HONEY CULTURE, haikyuu

( prey ) sunarin & kozuken

suna rintarō and kozume kenma

𝖄ou were very much aware of their gazes on you; one pair like burning constellations, the calm beneath the wave of fury, while the other could be described as fleeting dandelion stones, a collision of emotions brewing in those sharp almond eyes. you help yourself with a glass of wine, letting the remedy of people's voices in the ballroom tug your attention away from your current dilemma.

your free hand clutch fabrics upon fabrics of your dainty, puff outfit. you lift the drink as your lips shape around the edge of the glass, tilting your head back as tongue and teeth taste burning velvet running down your throat. you pull away with a heavy sigh, heart racing and cheeks flushed like strawberry s'mores smudged on canvas. the world beyond your sight start spinning out of control that you had not notice the click of shoes against the marble floor, or the warm breath tickling behind your neck.

your bones flinch when a hand much larger than yours wraps around your own that holds the glass, pushing your arm to set the drink on the table.

"milady." you turn your head and kenma kozume's lemon hair tickles your lashes. his face is dangerously close to your own, you could feel your own heart being trampled by tambourine notes. his lazy eyes are like saturn's wisteria holding you hostage, and the bright yellow chandeliers that contrast to his were not helping you one bit.

"sir kozume." you allow your voice to spill, his hand had not let go of yours. "good eve."

    "lady (y/n),"

    "y,yes?"

    he takes your hand and bows a little, "would you do the honours of being my first dance partner in this fine evening?" his words make you stutter, your gaze was steady against his and your cheeks suddenly burn. kenma smiles at your reaction, then, he gently tugs you with him at the center of the room. your heart was pounding, body flushed with his as he wraps a hand on your waist, the other holding your other hand steadily. his entire body guides you through the marble floor, his subtle movements look like gracious nectar leaf twirling along the mesmeric surface of a lake, you admit that kenma had always been good at dancing.

    another round and for a split moment, your eyes lands on someone else. standing at the sidelines, he stood there watching with calculated narrow eyes. even from a distance, you can tell suna rintarou was not happy with the sight, and kenma seems to be dangerously aware of it as well, then the song ended in a soft piano tune.

    "thank you for accompanying me," he says, you shake your head with a soft friendly smile. "wouldn't it be rude to refuse your request, sir kozume?"

    "kenma." you blink up at him, and he shapes his words a little more. "please address me as kenma, no need for formalities between us. we know each other well enough so you can talk freely as you please."

    "right." you're antsy for kenma to finally let go off you. after awhile, you watch silently as kenma parts his melon soft lips, lifting his hand - he presses his lips over the back of your hand, it was fluttering and soft and so simple yet it made your heart quicken, made the skin on your hand electrify, burst with a galaxy, cold and pulsing. the air inside your lungs collapse and rapture and you feel the smile on kenma's lips when he gazes at you beneath his lashes, bright yellow eyes steady with yours, 

    "oi." another hand pulls you away from kenma, then you're tugged towards another warm body, as the familiar stranger holds you close.

    "suna rintaro." kenma acknowledges, however the candle in his eyes had disappeared, and it was instead replaced with a cold breeze. suna holds you closer, eyes narrowing only slightly.

    "sir kozume," he tilts his head with a nod, you peak up at the dark-haired boy as he quickly excuses the both of you, embracing your frame close to his. kenma watches with sharp yellow eyes as the both of you disappear on a corridor, away from the ball.

"sir suna–"

"do you prefer men like that?" his tone was ice dripping from his tongue.

"what?"

"the princely bastard types." he says. "are you that insatiable over guys that are pristine and perfect, asking you to dance, kissing your hands, manipulating you with sweet talk?" you couldn't answer him, not when his long strides make it difficult for you to keep up with your heels. the light from the ball slowly dwindles the farther suna drags you away and you take a sharp intake of breath when you stumbled, and that's when suna stops.

you wince and suna freezes. he lets your hand go, yellow eyes fleeting from side to side before lifting you up and settling you on a nearby chair. suna lifts the edge of your dress, and the skin on your feet screams in red at the marks your heels had bitten into.

"sorry," his expression softens and his eyes had dimmed, the atmosphere settles down slowly. you exhaled, watching as the dark-haired boy tentatively brushing his thumb against your ankle, the look on his face was one of a puppy that had been kicked on the streets. he looked cute.

you unconsciously lift your hand and ran it down suna's cheek. the boy was caught frozen for a moment before he melted under your touch. he cupped your hand that had been resting on his face and cuddled it closely. "sorry, milady. forgive this foolish person for being incompetent."

you let out a small chuckle, smiling down at the boy before you, "i forgive you, sir."

end.