(no subject)
haikyuu!
kenma/hinata
n: honestly i've no idea why this happened. i'm a weak woman.
hinata remembers their first conversations. kenma would take around ten to twenty minutes to text him back. hinata would reply as soon as he felt his phone vibrate. he’d pretend he wasn’t always expecting a message and leave it on the table next to his juice, but the glances he’d leave upon the phone were merely seconds apart. a grin would always overcome his thin lips, because he read those short, consistent replies in kenma’s quiet, breathy voice and it would melt him from his insides.
now’s a bit different, and kenma always pauses his games to text back. kenma laughs at his touchscreen and sometimes his faces gets all red. he knows no one’s watching, but he stills feel the need to cover his face whenever hinata pulls at the corners of his mouth and turns his cheeks into cotton candy. although things started pretty slow, hinata has always been a quick kid. he learnt that if he worked hard enough, he’d always reach his goals.
when they met, his goal was to befriend kenma. to get to know him better, until he could read the nervous flickering in his sharp eyes. he knew there was more of the boy than the nervous glances and distant expressions. distance made it slightly difficult, but then again, hinata could find the way to make things happen; and so he did. kenma shakily fell under his spell. he was trapped from the very first moment he heard hinata’s lively voice ring in his ears, although he fought it back. when they started texting, kenma would read his responses over and over. what if i say something i shouldn’t? what if he stops liking me? he’d take much longer to reply and yet he was scared hinata would think he wasn’t interested in their friendship as much as he was.
hinata, on the other hand, was pretty straightforward. his hands were always sweaty, nerves always over the edge, too. when he read his responses, what he thought sounded pretty cool, fresh and absolutely not overly interested in a romantic way, in his mind it sounded like a three year old trying to get some attention. still, he hit send all the time. there’s no need for useless hesitation, he thought. besides, it was always best to stay true to one self, even if one self couldn’t properly construct coherent sentences. kenma chuckled at hinata’s words. he could read them with hinata’s quick pace, and his high pitched voice was deeply engraved in his memory.
kenma remembers how hard it was to keep a conversation going without it turning into a dull circle of the same questions and answers. hinata felt the struggle, too, and it was too real. even to someone as chatty as him. he’d often been obliged to use the awkward what are you doing strategy more than once. also, question games. that one didn’t turn out right, and he’d figured it was a no-no game for them. kenma was too smart, and he was too easy to beat. however, their texting began going smoothly, and they didn’t realize when they started to spend all day texting, non-stop, never running out of things to talk about.
kenma would play less and less videogames, and he’d spend more hours in chat rooms with hinata than beating his own records in his psp. when he was in training hours, he’d get his water bottle and his phone during breaks. he’d hydrate with one hand and text back with the other. hinata would rush back to the bench where he put his phone as soon as he heard daichi call a break. the others would always mock him, but he didn’t care. the only one who knew what was up was kageyama, and probably suga, since he was the most intuitive and sensible out of them.
what started as a long distance friendship, slowly but steadily turned into something else. during weekends, they’d stay up late just to chat. kenma hunched over his laptop, already warm on his bed, and hinata sitting on his chair, trying to hit the keys quietly so his mom wouldn’t send him to sleep. sometimes, during weekdays, hinata would stay up later than usual just to chat some more with kenma, who rarely went to bed before 1AM. those were the times when hinata had to pedal as fast as his legs allowed him to to get in time to class. hinata’s breath would hitch whenever kenma said something too cute, or too nice, or too personal.
when kenma was finally confident enough to be quirky and sarcastic with him, just enough to make him furiously blush, hinata’s heartbeats would speed up, and his thoughts would begin piling up, crumbling down and making a mess up in his brain. hinata wouldn’t hold back any words now, and he was pretty sincere with kenma: i like you a lot. i like like you. kenma would hold his phone closer, press it up against his crimson colored cheek and grin like a madman. to read those few words, to imagine hinata’s bright, moon like eyes, it made his body feel completely weightless. i like you more.
he wouldn’t hesitate now. he’d hit send as soon as he finished typing that up. he’d smile to himself, enjoying the bubbly, tingly sensation sprawling all over his skin.
the station is heavily crowded. he squeezes himself through huge masses of people until he finds a spot where he can actually breathe. it’s slightly humid, and the temperature rises as people congregate all around him. he almost forgets how nervous he is. it’s ridiculous. he’s nervous and excited and overwhelmed with joy.
he wishes he was in a vast meadow so he could run, arms spread wide, until he could no longer stand up straight. he wishes he could scream his lungs out, too, but instead he slides closer to one of the walls, in order to avoid a large body of people. he just got off the train, but he feels like he’s been stuck in here for hours.
he looks down at his phone, re-reads the message he just sent and sighs. kenma hasn’t read it. he must be busy, he figures. or maybe he’s on his way here. it’s not safe to walk and text at the same time, he thinks to himself. that makes him feel better. he wants kenma to be always safe.
“hey- hina.”
you know that feeling when you haven’t your favourite song in a long time, and then it starts playing out of nowhere. you don’t know where it comes from, but you hear it loud and clear and it vibrates through every pore of yours. you start feeling complete, like you’ve finally caught the rhythm your were looking for, and now you can finally move and swirl and you just feel so right doing so.
kenma’s voice might be his new favourite song.
he looks up quick, his enchanted eyes glistening bright, and a huge smile graces his face. kenma’s cheeks are like petals, a faded pink runs beneath them, and his eyes are big and full of wonder. his lips are pressed together, but there’s a curve on them that hides a toothy grin and hinata knows well, kenma’s just as happy as he is. before kenma could say anything else, hinata jumps onto him and circles his neck with both arms. he takes it all in, the warmth, the smell, the soft texture, everything.
he buries his face into kenma’s neck and mutters a choked hi there. kenma is so happy he doesn’t know what else to do besides wrapping his arms around hinata’s tiny body and embracing him tight. it’s been years since he was been this close to someone, and it feels a lot better than he remembers. hinata jumps like a spring and flashes a radiant smile at him, his eyes crinkling like a little child’s, unbothered with the people around them.
hinata remembers the first time he saw kenma: holding his phone close to his face, quickly scrolling through endless sentences, and his knees bumping each other. his red suit was like a fire alarm, he couldn’t get his eyes away from him. everything from that boy was new, and it was oddly relaxing. he was so different from him that it felt like it was some sort of magnetic attraction that led him up to the blonde boy. the boy barely talked, but his words stayed with him for so long that hinata couldn’t think of anything else: it was just him and volleyball. and now, now they’re together. they don’t have to play against each other, no one has to be defeated here.
“i’m so happy to see you!” he says, grasping his hand. kenma knows there are people staring, but right know he doesn’t care at all what people think of him- of them.
“i’m happy, too. i’ve been waiting for this.” he says, and his words trip over each other, his voice a little higher than normal. he’s all flustered in no time, and hinata giggles quietly, looking at him with loving eyes.
“i can tell.” hinata tells him, tightening his grip on his hand. it feels safe and strong, too strong for such small hands, but he’s okay with it. kenma starts walking towards the exit of the station and calmly leads hinata outside. he’s been waiting for this.
kenma/hinata
n: honestly i've no idea why this happened. i'm a weak woman.
hinata remembers their first conversations. kenma would take around ten to twenty minutes to text him back. hinata would reply as soon as he felt his phone vibrate. he’d pretend he wasn’t always expecting a message and leave it on the table next to his juice, but the glances he’d leave upon the phone were merely seconds apart. a grin would always overcome his thin lips, because he read those short, consistent replies in kenma’s quiet, breathy voice and it would melt him from his insides.
now’s a bit different, and kenma always pauses his games to text back. kenma laughs at his touchscreen and sometimes his faces gets all red. he knows no one’s watching, but he stills feel the need to cover his face whenever hinata pulls at the corners of his mouth and turns his cheeks into cotton candy. although things started pretty slow, hinata has always been a quick kid. he learnt that if he worked hard enough, he’d always reach his goals.
when they met, his goal was to befriend kenma. to get to know him better, until he could read the nervous flickering in his sharp eyes. he knew there was more of the boy than the nervous glances and distant expressions. distance made it slightly difficult, but then again, hinata could find the way to make things happen; and so he did. kenma shakily fell under his spell. he was trapped from the very first moment he heard hinata’s lively voice ring in his ears, although he fought it back. when they started texting, kenma would read his responses over and over. what if i say something i shouldn’t? what if he stops liking me? he’d take much longer to reply and yet he was scared hinata would think he wasn’t interested in their friendship as much as he was.
hinata, on the other hand, was pretty straightforward. his hands were always sweaty, nerves always over the edge, too. when he read his responses, what he thought sounded pretty cool, fresh and absolutely not overly interested in a romantic way, in his mind it sounded like a three year old trying to get some attention. still, he hit send all the time. there’s no need for useless hesitation, he thought. besides, it was always best to stay true to one self, even if one self couldn’t properly construct coherent sentences. kenma chuckled at hinata’s words. he could read them with hinata’s quick pace, and his high pitched voice was deeply engraved in his memory.
kenma remembers how hard it was to keep a conversation going without it turning into a dull circle of the same questions and answers. hinata felt the struggle, too, and it was too real. even to someone as chatty as him. he’d often been obliged to use the awkward what are you doing strategy more than once. also, question games. that one didn’t turn out right, and he’d figured it was a no-no game for them. kenma was too smart, and he was too easy to beat. however, their texting began going smoothly, and they didn’t realize when they started to spend all day texting, non-stop, never running out of things to talk about.
kenma would play less and less videogames, and he’d spend more hours in chat rooms with hinata than beating his own records in his psp. when he was in training hours, he’d get his water bottle and his phone during breaks. he’d hydrate with one hand and text back with the other. hinata would rush back to the bench where he put his phone as soon as he heard daichi call a break. the others would always mock him, but he didn’t care. the only one who knew what was up was kageyama, and probably suga, since he was the most intuitive and sensible out of them.
what started as a long distance friendship, slowly but steadily turned into something else. during weekends, they’d stay up late just to chat. kenma hunched over his laptop, already warm on his bed, and hinata sitting on his chair, trying to hit the keys quietly so his mom wouldn’t send him to sleep. sometimes, during weekdays, hinata would stay up later than usual just to chat some more with kenma, who rarely went to bed before 1AM. those were the times when hinata had to pedal as fast as his legs allowed him to to get in time to class. hinata’s breath would hitch whenever kenma said something too cute, or too nice, or too personal.
when kenma was finally confident enough to be quirky and sarcastic with him, just enough to make him furiously blush, hinata’s heartbeats would speed up, and his thoughts would begin piling up, crumbling down and making a mess up in his brain. hinata wouldn’t hold back any words now, and he was pretty sincere with kenma: i like you a lot. i like like you. kenma would hold his phone closer, press it up against his crimson colored cheek and grin like a madman. to read those few words, to imagine hinata’s bright, moon like eyes, it made his body feel completely weightless. i like you more.
he wouldn’t hesitate now. he’d hit send as soon as he finished typing that up. he’d smile to himself, enjoying the bubbly, tingly sensation sprawling all over his skin.
the station is heavily crowded. he squeezes himself through huge masses of people until he finds a spot where he can actually breathe. it’s slightly humid, and the temperature rises as people congregate all around him. he almost forgets how nervous he is. it’s ridiculous. he’s nervous and excited and overwhelmed with joy.
he wishes he was in a vast meadow so he could run, arms spread wide, until he could no longer stand up straight. he wishes he could scream his lungs out, too, but instead he slides closer to one of the walls, in order to avoid a large body of people. he just got off the train, but he feels like he’s been stuck in here for hours.
he looks down at his phone, re-reads the message he just sent and sighs. kenma hasn’t read it. he must be busy, he figures. or maybe he’s on his way here. it’s not safe to walk and text at the same time, he thinks to himself. that makes him feel better. he wants kenma to be always safe.
“hey- hina.”
you know that feeling when you haven’t your favourite song in a long time, and then it starts playing out of nowhere. you don’t know where it comes from, but you hear it loud and clear and it vibrates through every pore of yours. you start feeling complete, like you’ve finally caught the rhythm your were looking for, and now you can finally move and swirl and you just feel so right doing so.
kenma’s voice might be his new favourite song.
he looks up quick, his enchanted eyes glistening bright, and a huge smile graces his face. kenma’s cheeks are like petals, a faded pink runs beneath them, and his eyes are big and full of wonder. his lips are pressed together, but there’s a curve on them that hides a toothy grin and hinata knows well, kenma’s just as happy as he is. before kenma could say anything else, hinata jumps onto him and circles his neck with both arms. he takes it all in, the warmth, the smell, the soft texture, everything.
he buries his face into kenma’s neck and mutters a choked hi there. kenma is so happy he doesn’t know what else to do besides wrapping his arms around hinata’s tiny body and embracing him tight. it’s been years since he was been this close to someone, and it feels a lot better than he remembers. hinata jumps like a spring and flashes a radiant smile at him, his eyes crinkling like a little child’s, unbothered with the people around them.
hinata remembers the first time he saw kenma: holding his phone close to his face, quickly scrolling through endless sentences, and his knees bumping each other. his red suit was like a fire alarm, he couldn’t get his eyes away from him. everything from that boy was new, and it was oddly relaxing. he was so different from him that it felt like it was some sort of magnetic attraction that led him up to the blonde boy. the boy barely talked, but his words stayed with him for so long that hinata couldn’t think of anything else: it was just him and volleyball. and now, now they’re together. they don’t have to play against each other, no one has to be defeated here.
“i’m so happy to see you!” he says, grasping his hand. kenma knows there are people staring, but right know he doesn’t care at all what people think of him- of them.
“i’m happy, too. i’ve been waiting for this.” he says, and his words trip over each other, his voice a little higher than normal. he’s all flustered in no time, and hinata giggles quietly, looking at him with loving eyes.
“i can tell.” hinata tells him, tightening his grip on his hand. it feels safe and strong, too strong for such small hands, but he’s okay with it. kenma starts walking towards the exit of the station and calmly leads hinata outside. he’s been waiting for this.