for the ask game: shoyo + childhood friends to lovers
weeee thank you for playing! this is kinda all over the place bc i have (shockingly) never thought about this trope w hinata 😭😭😭 i always slut him out in my head tee hee. not that i haven't slutted him out here too.
cw: childhood friends to lovers, sexual tension, making out, that's about it
hanging out with hinata at twenty is different than hanging out with him at thirteen. what used to be easy and childlike, now has a deeply rooted tension that places itself in between all of your actions and conversation.
since graduating high school, hinata has grown big. two years in brazil left him broad and tan, with defined thighs and calves, and smooth back muscles that you can see under the thin t-shirt he wears. his arm, muscled and defined, sits around you on the couch and you find yourself strangely aware of his proximity to you.
you'd been feeling it for a while, this new anxious feeling he brings with him. you've started noticing the way people look at him, how girls look at him. the definition of his muscles and the flirtatious way he carries himself has become impossible to ignore and you find that the fire in your belly is alight more often than it is calm. desire makes it's way up your throat, where it lodges itself as it threatens to have you spilling your want into his ear and down his throat.
if hinata notices the change, he's good at hiding it, even going so far as to pull you into his chest while you watch whatever is on the tv. his touches are the same and, while they linger, they've never overstepped. if he wants you the way you want him, you'd never be able to tell. still, desire bites at your stomach and you find it everywhere. it's in the way he looks at you, in the way he touches you, in the lingering glances and insinuating statements. all of it sends you syrupy and leaves you trying to push the familiar feeling of want away.
maybe you're just perverted. maybe you're just letting your mind run wild, thinking about his arm around your shoulder and the way his chest feels against the side of your head. maybe you're the one with the problem, imagining the way his hands would feel running up your sides and the sounds he'd make if you let him.
hinata offers you some of the snacks on the table and then, just before you grab it, he yanks it away. his laugh bubbles up from his chest and you pound it with your fist, rolling your eyes.
"the hell was that for?" you snort.
"dunno," he shrugs, looking at you. "you're being a little weird. i wanted to try and like... fix that?"
"weird how?" you stiffen, distracting yourself by trying to grab the snack which he's holding out of your reach.
he says your name and you ignore him, grasping again at the bag.
"___," he says, grabbing your wrist with his free hand. you turn to face him and he's staring directly at you, his expression serious. "you haven't looked at me once in the last hour."
you feel your face heat, stomach flipping from the tone of his voice and try to wiggle your wrist from his grasp.
"what are you talking about?" you laugh.
"that!" he exclaims, letting go of your hand. "im talking about that! you barely looked at me just now, dude. what's wrong?"
i thought too hard about your penis and now i'm a little embarrassed about it. "literally nothing, i didn't even realize i was doing that."
"liar," he says.
"m'not lying," you push back.
he looks at you for a second and you bite your tongue, glancing back at him and fighting yourself to keep your eyes focused on his. it's hard. hinata has eyes that look directly at you. they're genuine and his gaze, no matter the emotion, feels heavy.
"i like it when you look at me," he says, a little softer this time.
you don't really know what to say, furrowing your eyebrows as he leans forward a bit.
"especially lately," he adds, and you notice the red creeping up onto his face. "kinda like i make you nervous now. do i make you nervous, ___?"
"shoyo...?" you lean back, trying to calm the way your heart hammers in your chest. this is not the boy you knew at thirteen. this is a man.
"you've gotten really pretty," he says softly, desperately. he reaches for you, his fingers trembling slightly. you instantly reach out to steady them.
hinata's face is merely an inch from yours and your chin is tucked down to your chest. his weight is shifted forward against you and he has one hand secured around your wrist with his finger against your palm and the other gripped tightly in your grasp.
"am i about to fuck something up?" he asks softly, uncharacteristically so.
you pause and then shake your head. by the time you've registered your own answer, his mouth is on yours. hinata kisses you hungrily, moving his lips with yours and reaching to tilt your chin up towards him. when he does, you open your mouth and let his tongue in, screwing your eyes shut as he licks into your mouth.
you knot your hands into his shirt and pull him closer, a rush of desire flooding your lower stomach as he pulls himself up and on top of you. you pull at the fabric covering his back, sitting up further to push him back and onto his back. he groans into your mouth when you do and it sets you on fire.
his fingers streak across your back and hips and shoulders. they ignite you and burn, touching all of the places you'd always imagined him touching. you let yourself tilt his head up, biting at his bottom lip while he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass and eagerly gives whatever you've wanted to take from him.
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will there be more chapters for your potpurri au? no pressure, just curious!
hopefully one day!!! i did have a ginzura-themed draft set in the potpourri au (it's still there ahaha i just haven't added to it in a long while) which was titled something like actually the strawberry flavour in your strawberry milk is really just sugar and red dye. i only got so far as ginzura bullying haggard old man hasegawa-san before i lost the plot of it but i aim one day to finish it!!! actually here is a snippet ahaha
After a long day at work ferrying customers back and forth through the endless streams of urban traffic, Taizou slams shut the driver's door to his cab, rolls his shoulders back and his head up, and then nearly bursts into tears.
"Please stop sitting there," he begs to the demon perched on the wall outside his house. "Please. It gives me a heart attack."
Yoshida-san's devil child, the one that the man dotes on incessantly, the one that likes to wheedle snacks from Taizou's sweet, innocent wife, the one that has tormented Taizou relentlessly without him even lifting a finger at least three times a week ever since their paths had tragically crossed, stares down dolefully.
"Hatsu doesn't mind," says Gintoki. "Besides. What's it my fault if pathetic old men die early? An old man who dies from something as lame as a heart attack is like a piece of dog crap stinking things up on the boot of society. An old man who dies from a heart attack is probably dying from something else already anyway, like crappy convenience store cigarettes or the weight of their own failures or their sunglasses leeching out all of their braincells like a cursed object."
"That's Hatsu-san to you," says Taizou, for lack of anything else.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, old men like that are already like zombies anyway. Even if they die, they'll still get up and go back home and leech off Hatsu." Gintoki pinches around the outsides of his nostrils thoughtfully, probably in search of stray boogers.
Taizou drags his hands down his face. He heaves a large sigh. His blood pressure has been climbing upwards for years at this point. "Aren't you too old to be doing things like this? Don't you have to get home? Don't you have anything better to do? Don't you have too much homework to be bullying poor, working men just trying to get by? God help me."
"Pft," says Gintoki, twelve years old and mean as hell. "As if God would listen to dog crap like you."
ooo
The first thing to ask, obviously, is why Gintoki is here.
"It's because he's run away from home again," explains Katsura-kun, politely letting himself into the kitchen through the back door. He gestures over at Gintoki (rifling through Taizou's refridgerator shelves for sweet treats) and beams at Hatsu (heading out to the garden) when she pats him on the head, even though the kid's almost as tall as she is now.
"Yeah," says Gintoki. He settles down at the table with a cup of chocolate mousse.
Taizou gazes wearily at the scene.
"Don't just come into my house like that. Who even invited you? And you. I was going to eat that. I was going to have that for dessert tonight."
Gintoki's eyes go wide and he makes a noise of surprise. "Hm? Oh, this l'il thing? Sorry. It just looked so lonely in the back of your fridge. I thought I'd keep it company. Anyway, I'm a growing boy, so I need all the sugar I can get."
"I put it up at the front so I could take it out for dessert. I was really looking forward to that."
"It's probably better that you don't eat too much sugar anyway, old man," Gintoki adds. "I heard too much sweet stuff is bad for geezers."
"You know what. Fine. Go ahead," says Taizou.
"If you're hungry or peckish," says Katsura-kun, "then I'm not sure Hasegawa-san's pantry is the best place. It would really have been better for you to stay home and let Yoshida-san stuff you with, what's that he's been baking a lot recently? I think they were lemon rosemary cookies." He pauses and looks to his left, where Gintoki nods absently into his chocolate mousse.
"Yes, that's right. Lemon rosemary shortbread cookies. They were quite good actually. Yoshida-san gave me a container to take home. I stopped by their house after school, that's why," he says to Taizou, whose expression must be showing the confusion bouncing around his brain. "He even sat me down to discuss the symbolism of the ingredients he used. He said: half a cup of sugar for the sweetness of existence, half a teaspoon of vanilla extract, a quarter of a teaspoon of salt for the tears shed in existence, a cup of butter, smooth and slippery, like all the things that slip out of your grasp—"
"Hey, what do you mean my pantry's not the best place?," says Taizou after a moment of realisation. "I work hard to feed myself and my wife, you know that, you brats? This whole day I was driving around rude, shithead city people who smoke in my cab and spill disgusting sticky soft drinks on my seats, and this is what I come home to?"
"You're the shithead who smokes in your cab," says Gintoki. "If your car smells like smoke, then that's because you're stinking it up in the first place, so it's your own fault."
"Are you really a little kid?" says Taizou. "Why do you have such a crude mouth for a kid? Why is everything you say so mean?"
"Hey, you're the one who said 'shithead' in the first place. I'm just repeating what you said. I'm an impressionable young boy, so you should be watching your mouth, actually. You should be a good role model."
"Don't your neighbours smoke? I see Tatsugoro-san with his pipe around all the time, are you this mean to him? Are you this mean to Ayano-san? You aren't, are you? You're only this mean to me. I'm the only one you call a pathetic old man, aren't I? I'm the only one you unleash all of your insults on, aren't I? You only call me dog crap on the boot of society."
"—two cups of all-purpose flour, soft and bright, for all the things that are so delicate that they can be blown away in a single breath, rosemary for fidelity and remembrance, oh Gintoki, what have I done that I don't deserve your fidelity, oh Gintoki, remember me, won't you Gintoki, wherever you have gone to, away from me, preserve the memory of me in your soul, even when you so evidently can no longer stand to look at my face—"
"Shoyo has a dumb face," says Gintoki to Katsura-kun. "And I'm just going to stay at your house for a week or two. I go to your house all the time."
"Well, you forget that Yoshida-san is possessed by a thousand spirits of melodrama," says Katsura-kun. "Also, lastly, lemon for bitterness. That said, I have a container for you as well, Gintoki."
Gintoki wrinkles his nose. "I don't want it, thanks."
"I'll take it," says Taizou, having been demolished by a middle schooler. "I need a pick-me-up." The container is swiftly slid across to him. "Thanks."
He opens the lid to find resting on top of the pile of warm biscuits a small square note embossed with spiky leaves around the edge. It's covered with pen drawings of hearts and sad faces and reads: FOR MY STINKY LITTLE SWEETPEA WHO IS ALWAYS WELCOME TO COME BACK HOME AT ANYTIME HE DECIDES TO RETURN HOME MOST HOPEFULLY SOON. <3.
"I wonder what Hatsu's doing outside," says Taizou. If he arches his neck, he can glimpse through the window. She's tending to the flowerbeds, it looks like. She pulls out a couple of weeds. Katsura-kun looks as if he knows exactly what is contained in Gintoki's care package (kid probably watched the note be written) and is politely ignoring it. Gintoki's face is very bland.
"Looks like there's some paper in here. With some writing on it. And some little pictures." He takes a bite out of what really is a good biscuit, sweet and buttery and still warm. Yoshida-san seriously is a good baker. "So these are kind of like fortune cookies, yeah?"
"Huh, says Katsura-kun. "I didn't get anything in mine."
"Huh," says Taizou, with maximum discretion. "Weird. Maybe something happened at the fortune cookie factory and they had a mix-up. Welp, since I'm an old geezer and I've had enough of both sorts 'a fortune, good or bad, in my lifetime, I guess you kids can have mine."
Silently, he folds up the note. Gintoki's hand is already open and outreached, though he refuses to look at it. Underneath that note is another one, which is a mournfully calligraphed poem about the temporary nature of happiness and domestic bliss that has additionally been annotated. He passes that one over as well.
"Anyway, Katsura-kun," he continues, "what was that recipe? Can you say it again, or maybe write it down? Hatsu might like it. She's mentioned wanting to try her hand at baking these days."
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