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If I licked Your Eye Would You be Mad? If I Kissed Your Ass Would You Be Glad? Does Love Have A Name? Give Us A Name.

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Tadashi couldn’t say he hated his boyfriends' inhuman ability to not blink. He really couldn’t say he hated anything about his boyfriend (he loves Kenma, he really really does it isn't even funny it’s just gushy and soft and so sweet and—wow he loves his boyfriend) but if he were to hate something (hate is such a strong word. Such a strong, strong word. Again, Tadashi doesn’t really hate much of anything, let alone a feature of his darling boyfriend, so for the sake of the argument as a whole he defines ‘hate’ as: the really cool thing that I don’t understand but also wouldn’t ever change because that would be changing his boyfriend and Tadashi doesn’t ever want to do that, BUT to be fair this ability of his does constantly rear it's unnatural head anytime they have something petty to compete over or in those rare moments where Kenma would stare and Tadashi DIDN’T want him to. Again, rare. Anyway, it wasn’t cool. It was really cool but it wasn’t cool. Something like that probably)  it would be Kenma’s inhuman ability to have ever unblinking eyes. 

See, they had dishes piling up in the sink. Tadashi didn’t know if Kenma grew up rich and just never really did dishes or maybe Tadashi was the weird one in the relationship because the moment he saw dirty dishes he was prone to just… clean it. He usually didn't ask questions because it really wasn’t that big of a deal (Kenma did his fair share of work in the house and truthfully neither of them ate that much in the first place so it wasn’t like they had 10 pots and 20 plates to clean every time lunch was over. No big deal) but today just…wasn’t a cleaning day for Tadashi. 

 

He wanted to sit on his bed, or his couch, or his boyfriend and read or play a game or nap or literally do anything on earth that wasn’t dishes. 

 

“Hey Kenma.”

 

They were sitting together and aimlessly existing together. Once, long ago, Tadashi would worry about if this was too boring for them to do together (existing in the same space that is) but now he just wanted to scratch his ass and then give his boyfriend a kiss (because he can). Oh, how time heals all wounds and reassures against all insecurities.  So Tadashi does just that, pecking Kenma softly on the lips before leaning in more to smash his face on Kenma’s. He’s so close that he can’t see Kenma anymore, just the pores and dark perpetual eye bags on his face. Feels the heat of Kenma’s skin on his skin, smells the not-quite-wonderful-but-not-bad-enough-to-complain-about smell of stale sprite and millionaire boyfriend in the space between them. Tastes the spit of a guy who drank a sprite while stale, yes he does gag a bit. Yes, Kenma chuckles. (He drinks it stale. He purposefully gets the soda, opens it, waits like 30 minutes, and drinks it stale. It's fucked . Tadashi thinks they should have a summer wedding so he can see the setting sun illuminate Kenma’s beautiful face better). 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Go do the dishes.”

 

“Why.”

 

“Your turn.”

 

“We don’t have turns.”

They don’t. Damn.  

 

“I don’t want to do them” 

 

“Me neither.”

 

He doesn’t. Damn.

 

Kenma then pushes Tadashi’s face forward a bit so they can stare at each other. Tadashi knows that look. He hates (remember that previous definition we talked about?) that look. The game has already started. Kenma has already won. 

He… God , Tadashi can barely explain it but Kenma seemingly opens his eyes wider and suddenly they’re locked onto him and he knows that they aren’t closing anytime soon. Kenma truly does blink only by choice. Once he went 2 months without blinking (he would close his eyes to sleep and that's it. He doesn’t even fucking look at anything when he does it, he’s just staring perpetually. Once he thought about licking his eye or something just to see if that would make him do it. It wouldn’t. Didn’t. Tadashi slept terribly that night). 

Tadashi doesn’t even pretend to try. He sighs and ruffles Kenma’s hair, trying to drown out the winner’s snickers with his own inner radio (currently playing the newfound-American-yacht-rock-classic Copacabana). 


‘At the Copa don't fall in love’  He hums as he washes the dishes. God he hated Kenma.