kweho writes a lot

A nod from you gave him permission to keep talking, and, although he didn't need it, it was still appreciated.

"Zero conditional. It's for general truths or facts, the formula is if with a simple present and then another simple present. Got it?"

He didn't feel too confident with the nervous nod you'd given him as an answer. Saiki took one hand off of the book he was holding to rest it upon yours, turning it and pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to your palm. "You can do this. I know you can, and I'm not saying it to pressure you or make you more nervous. You're smart."

A smile, a genuine one, graced his face when you nodded much more confidently and muttered an 'I can do this' to yourself. He liked it when you believed in yourself, as corny as it may sound, since he knew you could do anything you set your mind. Jesus, what did you turn him into, a Barbie ad? Eugh.

"First conditional, it's for real possibilities in the future. If, simple present, will and infinitive. Like.. If it rains, you'll stay with me."

He really can't seem to stop smiling when he talks to you. You've seeped into every conversation he has (although he has little), and he boasts about you, or simply talks about you, any time he can. Same as his mother, who's as proud of you as he is.

"Second conditional, hypotheticals or unreal situations. Like you failing this test. Hm? If, simple past, would and infinitive. If you failed the test, you would go crazy." Then, after a pause, he adds "Unreal situation.", as if to get your mind off of it.

"Third conditional, unreal past hypotheticals. If, past perfect, would have, past participle."

Saiki didn't say anything for a bit, simply looked at you, trying to gauge if you'd understood or not. He reckoned you did, by the wobbly smile on your face (the one you always used to get when you understood something - when had he ever gotten so observant?).

The exam, of course, had gone splendidly. In fact, after finishing it and hearing the bell ring, you sprung up out of your seat, walking to meet Saiki outside and give him a hug without much thought. Unbothered by the people (Teruhashi) staring (and maybe seething), he held you with equal affection, if not more, patting your head slightly.

Without knowing how, it smelled slightly like your perfume - vanilla and a little citrusy, meaning it was amazingly comfy. You wondered if he had done it on purpouse to make you feel more welcomed. Probably not. He had. It was incredible the impact you had on him, according to his mother. He didn't want to admit it, but he had been very changed by you. You were bright, and kind, and just a breath of fresh air. Like a cool drink in summer, you were refreshing. Not to say his friends weren't kind or bright - they were! It was just differetnt. Somehow. He didn't even know that himself, although his mother would say 'young love'.

It'd been an amazing evening, resting from exams and hanging out with friends, until you spotted a cockroach, and so subtly, as you knew he was deathly afraid, caught it between your hands, trying to take it out of the room. Unfortunately, the gods had apparently rolled a nat 1 on your action, since you stumbled, and the cockroach went flying. Flying until it landed on Saiki's hand, of course. Your reaction was instantaneous.

"...Motherfucker." You hissed, silently cursing yourself for letting it fall, analysing your boyfriends face, which, normally calm, was now showing such obvious disgust it was almost laughable.

Well, not really, especially since he yelped, actually yelped, a sound you didn't think he could make, and shot up. The controller went through the air to land on his bed. As quick as you could manage, you took it off of him, though the damage was already done. Nothing was broken or floating or anything, which was good enough for you to catalogue it as a 'mission accomplished' (the mission being keep Saiki calm), but he was staring at you with a funny look.

The cockroach made it out of the house safely, as you didn't have the heart to kill it, simply throwing it to a bush with impeccable aim. When you looked back at him, he was still staring at you, at your hair. You didn't have time to think of why he was looking at you that way, just standing in front of him to cup his face and ask him if he was okay. When there was no answer, you frowned, squishing his cheeks and forcing him to move his face to the right and then the left, checking that he was responsive.

He was, based on the fact that he scrunched his face up and grabbed your hands to stop them moving his face, gently holding them in his own. Saiki's hands weren't calloused, but soft. That was mainly because you used a sakura hand cream that he loved, and once you'd notice, you'd bought him a few little tubes. He, being the devoted boyfriend that he is, didn't want to disappoint you by not using them.

"Don't freak out." His voice, as always, smooth. Didn't help with the fact that he was making you overthink with three single words. Your mind was seriously in shambles right now.

"What." He can't just say that and expect you not to freak out - ohmygod what happened?! Did the cockroach, like, shit on you or something? I mean, that couldn't be it, he was staring at your hair- what was wrong with your hair.

A hand instictively went up to smooth it out, or twirl with it, just fiddle with it as you always did when you were nervous, but he tugged it back down, saying nothing and taking you to the bathroom. You really had no clue what he was doing until you both got to the mirror, where you could see that you had puppy ears. With a quick turn, you were met with the sight of a blonde fluffy tail. Your reaction to that was a squeak, and a quick closing of eyes. You really didn't think you could handle this right now.

Your boyfriend, gentle as always, tilted your head up, and spoke. Genuinely. Not telepathically. Spoke. It always threw you off when he did that - but in a good way, you supposed.

"We can fix this, m'kay? Just calm down."

You seriously doubted you could do that, but you still felt yourself melting into his embrace when he led you out of the bathroom, flicking off the light, and sat on the bed, simply holding you. His hand went to your hair, gently running his fingers through it as you had done before, aiming to soothe. He was so sweet.

The book you were reading was not being read. You'd just been eyeing over the same sentence every few seconds, trying to concentrate, but failing. Normally, reading would be your favourite pasttime, and it still was, you were just in the mood to watch a film or play a game or something! Of course, you wouldn't communicate this to your boyfriend, your loving, sweet boyfriend who was probably just as bored as you were. A huff escaped your lips, and Saiki watched as your face scrunched up with determination, pushing yourself off of the bed to grab the TV remote. You looked as nice as always, and, even though he didn't say it much, he hoped you knew how much he admired you - not just for beauty, but for everything. You had changed him, you were bright and kind, a breath of fresh air in a world full of pollution. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but he couldn't help but be grand in everything he said about you, since you yourself were so big. So all-encompassing. He genuinely thought that you took up all the space in his heart (his parents, his friends, and his beloved coffee jelly were also there, but it didn't really add up to how he felt with you).

You were the first person (person? puppy?) who'd made him feel normal, liked. He knew he was loved by his parents (maybe by his brother? he didn't really think so, though), but he was liked by you, and that was much more important than anything else. He'd taken a liking to your perfume, vanilla and a little citrusy, it was comforting to him, since it made him think of you.

Not as much as you were, duh, although it was hard for anyone to care as much as you did, he just…didn’t care. He wore the uniform and whenever he went out with his friends, he’d wear a jumper, maybe a light brown to go with the pink of his hair, any trousers he’d found lying around his room. Anything, really, since his parents didn’t care much either. 

You, however, treated every outing like a possibility for a fashion show. You were aware people would stare, so you decided to give them a show. A black blouse with some black trousers was the basic layer that you were wearing, with a brown leather jacket on top, and a dark brown messenger bag that held your things (phone, book, notebook, wallet…). No special occasion was going on, just the fact that  you were going out with your boyfriend (although he might argue it was a special occasion, if he was hit by a truth serum) to a café. 

No extravagant makeup on, just some simple eyeliner and some dark pink eyeshadow to compliment Saiki’s colours. It was a choice you hadn’t really thought about, honestly. He’d ordered a coffee jelly for himself and another for you, even though you’d suggested you could share it. He was quite picky with his food, you’d learnt, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise. 

Though he didn’t talk much, you did more than enough for both of you, chatting about anything and everything; the book you were reading, what you’d been writing lately, a nice park you saw the other day that could serve as a lovely picnic date spot (you could swear he was jotting it down in his mind)… Any good vibes, though, were cut short by some girls from your same school giggling and staring at you. He noticed, a fact that was soon obvious to the whole cafe with how hard he gripped his iced coffee (yes, he had bought an iced coffee as well as coffee jelly), making the coffee shoot up from the plastic cup and dribble down his hand and wrist. You could swear his eyes were glowing a dark purple, looking creepy as fuck.

…Yeah, no, you had to get him out of there before he did something. As nonchalant as he was, he was overprotective, specifically with you, which made your heart warm slightly. However, you knew that if you stayed there long, his powers would probably go haywire, and you reckoned neither of you wanted that.

After a few minutes walking, and a stubborn hand hold from you, he calmed down. He didn't voice his concerns about those girls clearly talking about you, since he knew that it might make you feel bad about yourself (it was silly, but he'd learnt he'd rather let the volcano blow up rather than make you feel bad. Call him sentimental). Both of you were now in his room, and, now that his mind was off those girls, he envied the fact that you lived so close to that lovely café. He hadn't really been paying attention to what you were saying (a thing he later felt a bit bad about, honestly) until you were crouched in front of him and looking at him expectantly, chunky boots making you more or less his height, even with you crouched and him sitting.

"Huh?"

A roll of your eyes accompanied your next sentence. "I asked if you wanted some new clothes."

Saiki stared at you, figuring out your body language. You were unknowingly wearing a geranium ring you'd found in a cool shop, so he couldn't read you properly. To him, it was devestating how hopeless he was when he didn't use his powers. However, you did looked determined. He wasn't getting out of you dressing him up, was he?

That's pretty much how he'd ended up in front of your mirror, you giving him some privacy by turning your back whilst he changed into the clothes you'd given him. You'd tried a few different styles, seemingly liking him as a model (he thought he was being used as a doll, though). Now he wasn't sure what style you'd given him. It was a sort of black tank top with a turn-down collar with a black mesh shirt on top of it, as well as a red jacket that hung under his shoulders.he was also wearing black high-waisted trousers, adorned by different chains, with a chunky black belt, more for decor than anything else. He wordlessly put on some necklaces that you'd given him, a gothic style chain and a pentagram, as well as some rings - a black spider adorned with a red gem (probably fake), a silver heart with a black gem as the filling (that one wasn't fake, he'd assured himself so), and a simple star. The whole outfit was quite put together, and he was determined to try and like it.

He had been enjoying the process of trying on new clothes (as much as he was partial to it normally, it was fun when he was your model), but all that stopped when you took a few pictures after he'd told you he'd finished changing. Saiki pretended to roll his eyes and huff, but he was smiling underneath all that tough demeanor. He definitely liked it, no use hiding it.

When he spoke, actually spoke, using his mouth instead of just telepathy, his voice was slightly gravelly, having just woken up from a nap. Normally, Saiki wouldn't show the kind of weakness it's necessary to when sleeping in front of someone, but it was you, so it didn't matter. It was a cold winter evening, December break, and you were determined to make the most of it. This obviously meant movie night with him, both bundled up in jumpers and blankets and pillows, having made a kind of pillow fort. The only thing that was missing was some hot chocolate, although you didn't want to tell him this, since he'd teleport out to get some, and you'd be left all alone in the cold of the bed, without him amping up his body temperature to warm you up (you weren't sure if he actually did that, but it made you melt nonetheless, he was so sweet).

"You stole my hoodie." If you looked up at him then, which you did, you'd see that he was pouting. Actually pouting. Mr. Cold-bored-nonchalant was pouting. Because you had stolen his hoodie.

"Well, " you pushed yourself up slightly, hands on his chest as you stretched your back, arching like a cat "it smells like you."

"Is that supposed to be an explanation?" His expression changed just slightly at that, from a pout to a sort of amused smile.

You squinted up at the ceiling, as if it would magically give you the answer, and then nodded decisively. "…Yes."

"And how, exactly?" Saiki cupped your face, squishing your cheeks the slightest bit.

"Oh, that was easy, you left it in my room and I just didn't give it back." A giggle escaped from your lips, cocking your head to the side just slightly, watching him with a clueless look in your eyes (a very fake one) and a smile.

He raised an eyebrow. You were smarter than that, it made no sense for you to think he meant that. It dawned on him that you were acting dumb.

"Your solution to getting out of your inevitable fate is to act dumb?"

Your heart dropped when you realised what he was talking about. "No- Sai, c'mon, it was a hoodie, it's really nothing- Please don't?"

When your best puppy eyes didn't work on him, you knew your fate was sealed. You sighed and put your arms up, defeated, and failed to keep a straight face once he started to tickle you. The laughs coming out of you were music to his ears, giggles and snorts you were terribly embarrassed about.

“ ‘Kay. C’mon, baby bird.”

He walked off onto the sofa, with you trailing behind like a duckling, which he thought was adorable. Everything in the manor was relatively new to you - the rooms were all big and there were so many, it was a ginormous house, so big that you hadn’t explored half of it! Of course, most of your days simply consisted of going to school and then staying in your bedroom. You still hadn’t really meshed with the rest of the family, Bruce was scary, and Jason was one (if not your only) solace. Even though he looked a bit scary, you were delighted to find out he was anything but! 

“I assume you’ve read it.”

You just nodded as a response.

“Good. So you just need to answer a few questions for an exam?”

You, again, nodded.

“Do you have the questions?” 

It seemed like you did nothing but nod. You passed him a slip of paper with the questions scribbled out, given to you by a classmate in the other class that had clearly taken a liking to you. With all the non-verbal responses, Jason assumed it was a no-talking day. Which was fine! It just made it the slightest bit harder to communicate. Not that he’d show it and risk scaring you off, of course.

“Mmmmright.” He read what was written.

“Number one: Explain who these characters are,” he emphasized ‘these’ by pointing at the characters “what they represent, what they do or what happens to them. Can you do that?”

You nodded, and he passed you a piece of paper to write on. You jotted down some key points with a slightly shaky hand (Napoleon was a pig who represented the dictator of the farm, he was the leader of all the committees and he made himself look great so the other animals wouldn’t lose faith in him, Moses was a crow…blah blah blah, it was all pretty boring to you). Jason looked over your shoulder whilst you did so, making some ‘hmmmm’ sounds, which was quite uncharacteristic of him, from what little information you had on him. Then again, he was trying to be a good brother. Not to say he wasn’t a good brother to the rest of them, he probably was, you just hadn’t seen them interact much. When it got too loud you always retreated to your room (your reaction could go either way with that - either it being too big and dark and scary or cozy and nice) and read. You quite liked reading, honestly, but ‘Animal Farm’ just wasn’t it. You were sure you’d like it if it weren’t an assigned reading for class. Alas, it was, so you had no choice but to reject it. 

That’s how it goes, he gives you questions, and you jot the answers down (at least, what you think the answers are, you aren’t really sure about anything). When you’re finally done writing, Jason reads it and simply gives you an approving nod. You aren’t sure how to feel about that, so you squirm for a bit, trying to read his expression but coming up empty (he was probably taught to be expressionless since he was a kid, being raised by Batman and all), until he verbally tells you you’ve done well.

Eventually, even that felt like too much effort. With a tired sigh, he closed his eyes and slung an arm over them for good measure, pressing down lightly as if that might keep his head from splitting open. He shifted on the bed, blankets rustling, until he found a position that hurt marginally less.

In all truth, Rory wasn’t getting better. Not really. He hadn’t been for at least a few weeks—days, if he was lucky—but he knew better than to hope. Whatever this was, it liked to linger. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway. Lying here, drifting in and out of half-consciousness, felt inevitable. So why should he care?

He was already half-dozed off when the door creaked open.

With a low groan, Rory pulled his arm away from his eyes and tried to sit up on instinct alone. His body immediately betrayed him. He barely got his shoulders off the mattress before gravity dragged him back down, and he landed with a soft thud, breath knocked out of him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, barely louder than a whisper.

That was enough trying for one day.

He shut his eyes again and decided not to move. Every inch of him hurt now—sharp, stabbing pain that bloomed everywhere at once, like his nerves were short-circuiting. Even breathing felt like work.

Footsteps crossed the room, slow and careful.

To his great pleasure, it was his boyfriend.

Rory could smell it before he registered anything else: warm, salty, familiar. Some sort of holy remedy, clearly. Soup. He relaxed almost immediately, the tight muscles in his face loosening for the first time in hours. He shifted just slightly on the bed, angling himself closer to the sound of Mars moving around, suddenly feeling… safe. Actually rested.

Mars hovered at his side, watching him with a fond, worried smile. Rory’s hand came up blindly, fingers curling around Mars’ sleeve in a weak little claw, tugging once—twice—asking for soup without actually asking. He didn’t trust his voice. It probably wouldn’t come out right anyway.

Mars huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I got you.”

He figured Rory couldn’t speak, not properly, probably from the pain. So he didn’t ask questions. Just set the bowl down, slid a few pillows behind Rory’s head, and carefully propped him up just enough so he wouldn’t choke.

“There we go,” he murmured.

He brushed the hair out of Rory’s face, fingers lingering for a second too long when he felt how warm his skin was. Hotter by the minute. With a quiet tsk, Mars grabbed a damp cloth from the bedside table and gently laid it over Rory’s forehead.

Rory hissed at the cold, flinching before melting into it a second later, a quiet, pitiful sound leaving his throat.

“I know, I know,” Mars said softly. “Bear with me.”

He scooped up a spoonful of soup and held it to Rory’s lips. Rory opened his mouth obediently, sipping slowly like he was told. Still, some of it dribbled down his chin.

Mars smiled despite himself.

“You’re making a mess, darling. Sip slowly, okay?”

Rory attempted to roll his eyes in response, only to immediately regret it. Pain flared behind them, white-hot, and he let out a horrible little whine—high and pathetic, like a puppy denied a treat.

“Oh, hey—hey.” Mars set the spoon down at once, concern replacing the teasing. His hand—thankfully cold—cupped Rory’s cheek, thumb brushing gently over his skin. Rory leaned into it instinctively, breathing out a shaky sigh.

Mars moved his hand so it rested against Rory’s forehead instead, pressing lightly. Rory visibly relaxed, shoulders sinking back into the mattress. Another spoonful of soup followed.

“Didja… make it y’rself?” Rory slurred, words sticking together.

“Mhm.” Mars nodded. “Remembered you said you liked homemade soups. You said so, didn’t you?”

Rory couldn’t manage a nod. He just made a small, affirmative sound instead and let his eyes flutter shut again. Talking hurt too much. Thinking did, too. Silence felt easier.

Honestly, it was probably better for Mars. He could talk without interruption.

And talk he did.

He didn’t try to kiss Rory again—not after being stopped the first time and getting all pouty about it—but he stayed close, voice low and steady as he rambled. He told Rory about his day, about the annoying customer at work, about the song that had gotten stuck in his head. He told him about his sister, too—how she’d somehow managed to stick a carrot up her nose that morning and cried until someone laughed, which only made it worse.

Rory listened, half-asleep, clinging weakly to Mars’ sleeve. The words washed over him like warm water, grounding him. Every so often, Mars would pause to feed him another spoonful of soup or adjust the cloth on his forehead, fingers careful and reverent, like Rory might break if handled too roughly.

He wasn’t really aware that the only reason why you were looking at it with such attention was to not look at him and maybe mess up the plaits. Which were, by the way, going as wrong as they could. Your hair was all over the place, strands of it sticking out, and you didn’t want to admit it, but the hairbands were hurting you slightly. Him, being a detective first and a man second thanks to his time with his father, had noticed, and very carefully pulled out the hairbands, brushing your hair out of the plait and making it sting a bit less. Without thinking much, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, tipping it back to look at him through hair strands. With a soft smile, one reserved only for you, Jason looked back. He brushed the hair strands blocking your view away from your face, hands warm and acting like a siren song to bring you to slumber. Really, any touch from this man, however simple, was all-encompassing. You felt it in your veins, in your bones, in your everything. He was everything.

As if he knew what you were thinking, he turned off the TV, ignoring your huff and weak protests. With a strong arm, he lifted you up to the sofa, where he was currently sitting, above the floor, where you’d insisted to sit to make it easier for him to braid your hair. The cushions were soft, and he’d kept the ‘Fatson Todd’ you’d given him, even with all the grumbles and eye-rolls he’d given you once you’d bought it for him. 

“C’mon, dove.”

“Hm?” You were so gone, let it be from sleep or love for him, you were barely listening.

“Sleep over tonight. M’kay?”

You didn’t do anything but nod, and he saw that adorable smile of yours again.

“I’ll let you have the bed.” Jason watched as your face crumpled up, frowning. With a gentle brush of his thumb to the space between your eyebrows, you relaxed.

“Either take the bed with me or let me crash on the sofa.” You were quite aware that he wouldn’t take the bed alone, not wanting you to be on the sofa, which really wasn’t that uncomfortable, but still..

With his signature eye roll and a grin that was all teeth, he gave in. “Fine. Bed. C’mon, up.” 

He got up from the sofa with a groan and a hand at his lower back - patrol must’ve really hurt him last night - and helped you up. You clung to him like a koala, unable to do much of anything else, still too caught up in the essence of him. You were well aware that you were acting (and were) an idiot, but you didn’t really mind. Especially not when Jason swooped you up off your feet, taking you to his bedroom in a princess-style hold. 

You were both already in your pajamas, his being a T-shirt and some long pants, thanks to the Gotham cold, yours being the same, but borrowed from him. The descent to the bed was gentle, and you loved that, so sleepy that your eyes had started to hurt from keeping them open. 

“Go to sleep, lovely.”

“Mmh?” You opened your half-lidded eyes to make them appear slightly wider, trying to see anything but a blur of darkness.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be beside you, y’know I won’t leave.” In an instant, he was under the covers with you, gently holding your wrist and pressing a kiss to your pulse point. You couldn’t avoid a smile at that, and he saw how it completed you, as if you were a person meant to smile, how your hair framed your face and just how lovely you were.