vacation bible school

heavenly | nanami kento

"Because this is where I wanna be, where it's so sweet and heavenly, I'm giving you all my love."

warnings: none. just some nanami fluff.

—-

"HE'S LATER THAN USUAL." You think out loud, looking at the clock indicating that it was a little after 8pm hanging on the wall before you. You decided to get comfier on the couch you were seated on, resuming the task of reading a book you had left on your shelf for way longer than you should have. You had wanted to surprise your long term boyfriend with a visit to his place. You knew he sometimes finished work much later than his usual time, which was 6pm, but he often worked hard to be clocking out of his space as soon as the big hand hit 12. He loathed working overtime, after all.

Your relationship with Nanami Kento was an unexpected surprise, having not been attracted to him in the slightest at first. Sure, you acknowledged that he was physically attractive, but his stiff and inflexible personality was something you didn't quite vibe with. You met him a few times when you worked morning shifts at a coffee shop he frequented. He would always answer your 'how are you?' with the same one word, fine, monotonous and barely sparing you a glance. Then you began working at a local bar that often had karaoke nights and your superiors would always put you in charge with setting up for the half-drunken 'singers'.

One day you decided to (you were forced to by a colleague) sing yourself, and it seemed to have grabbed the attention of a guest who had visited the bar for the first time. You knew that because his high cheek-boned, sharp jawed, pointed nose and stiff posture made him stand out like a sore thumb. He came every night in case you sang again. On the days you didn't sing, he'd make sure you were the one to serve him, and although he wasn't as interactive with small talk, you very quickly figured out how to interact with him. Then he began to stay long enough to be able to walk you to the nearest taxi pick up spot. Then he began to take you straight home to your doorstep.

And now you're sitting on the small couch in his living room, reading a book to entertain yourself until he comes home - something you did a minimum of three times a week.

It wasn't long after the acknowledgment of the time that you heard the familiar sound of keys slotting into the lock of the front door, followed by the sound of the door opening. A smile played on your lips as you listened to the sound of shoes being taken off, a bag hitting the floor and then the sound of sliders dragging across the floor - all sounds that you knew like the back of your hand.

You mark your page in your book and look up to the man who just entered, a tired expression etched onto his sharp features, head of blonde hair dishevelled and goggles still comfortably sitting on the bridge of his nose. Before you could greet him, he came right over to you, taking a seat next to you then dropped his head into your lap. You were quick to raise your arms as soon as you saw what he was doing, a startled 'oof' leaving your lips when his head landed onto your thighs.

"Good evening to you, too, Kento." You muttered, letting him get comfortable as he took off his goggles and then crossed his arms over his chest. You watched him exhale, closing his eyes and remaining silent for a short while.

"Sorry," he grumbled, sighing again then opening his eyes and looking up to meet your amused gaze. "It's been a long day."

"I can tell." You replied, placing your book on the empty space beside you then bringing a hand up to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You smell gross." He shut his eyes in response and huffed.

"You smell nice." He retorted, and you smiled when you saw a hint of amusement playing at the corner of his lips.

"You must be hungry." You comment, moving some strands of his hair out of the space on his forehead. You leaned down and planted a soft kiss in the spot between his brows then straightened up and gently tapped the crown of his head. "If you go shower, I'll be finished making something for you to eat . How does that sound?"

"Are you on the menu?" He asked, tone as serious as ever but it made you laugh, tapping the crown of head again.

"Not tonight, you're already worn out," you hummed, letting your fingers play with his hair again momentarily. "Up you get, then."

He nodded his head, opening his eyes and sitting up in one swift movement. Though he was never one to talk about how he felt, he appreciated your very existence. He appreciated that you never probed about his work-life any more than he was comfortable. He appreciated that you read him like an open book and accepted him and all his stiffness. He appreciated that you would always randomly smother him with soft kisses all over his face for no reason. He hoped he'd be able to tell you one day, but for now, he knew that you felt it.

And that you did, which is why you were happy to do things for him as you were doing now, preparing a small snack for him to eat whilst he showered and changed into more comfortable clothing. He was in and out in a flash, which you assumed was either because he didn't want to be without you for a second or he was incredibly hungry.

You had set up his food on the small kitchen table he had, and watched him take a seat and thank you for the meal. You remembered that there were some pears that hadn't been touched since the day you brought them to him two days ago, deciding to cut them up for him and see if he would eat them.

Although the both of you sat in a comfortable silence, you couldn't help but think about how much you loved doing the mundane things for him. Sure, it was nice when you were cuddling on the couch or embraced in all sorts of positions in the bedroom, but there was something about the smaller things that filled your heart with joy.

You looked up from the pear in your hands to see that he had stopped eating, his head resting on a balled fist that was propped up onto the table abs his eyes were on you. His hair was still damp from his shower and pulled back so that his whole face was visible. His expression was hard to read but it didn't intimidate you, instead, you scoffed and continued to cut the pair in your hands into four.

"What?" You asked, looking down at the piece of pear you were cutting the seeds out of and got rid of the stalk, placing the piece into a bowl before doing the same to the remaining three pieces.

"Should we get married?" He asked, the question catching you off-guard but you remained calm. Your eyes flickered up to him, trying to scan his face for any sign of amusement and finding nothing. He was being serious.

"Why are you asking right now?"

"Because I like the way you cut pears for me." His answer had you confused and it took all you had inside not to laugh. You slowly nodded your head, putting the rest of his pear slices into the bowl and pushing it towards him.

"So, what? You want me to cut your pears everyday until the end of time?" You teased with a light laugh, wiping your wet hands with a drying cloth that was next to you.

"Yes." He answered, taking the bowl of pear slices and digging into them right away. "You haven't answered my question."

You smiled at him, propping your elbows onto the table and resting your chin in your hands whilst you watched him eat.  "Okay. But on one condition." He didn't say anything but the speed at which he looked at you indicated he didn't expect you to agree so easily. "You have to spoil me with gifts everyday. I cut you pear slices, you buy me expensive shiny things."

His lips pulled into a humoured smile that you rarely saw when you were not in his home. "If that's what I need to keep you by my side everyday."