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bicsbec · 2 years

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Check Point

A brief kuroken one-shot (AO3 link)

Kenma was streaming again. Not that it was a problem. Tetsurou was only concerned with Kenma's lack of self preservation.

He would hole himself up in his office, streaming for hours on end, forgetting to eat or drink water or sleep. Tetsurou wasn't in the habit of interrupting his streams, but he had long since silently vowed to check on Kenma when he exceeded the twelve hour mark of not exiting the room. Check points, they called them.

This morning, Tetsurou was fairly certain Kenma had never made it to bed. He glanced at the timer on his watch in the mirror, his fingers stopping their work on his tie to focus on the numbers. 11:56:08.

Kenma sometimes did that, set the timer himself. Tetsurou smiled in the mirror.

He made his way over to Kenma's office, knocking first. No response.

"Kenma, check point."

He could hear faint chimes coming from inside, he recognized them as sounds the chat sometimes made.

"Kenma?"

Still nothing. Tetsurou risked a peek inside and his heart stuttered.

Kenma had fallen asleep on stream, their cat, Mikasa, was curled up on the back of his neck, lifting her head to sniff at the camera. It was honestly the cutest sight in the world.

The chat was flying past on screen, the stream had switched to a screen saver, the corner where Kenma's feed usually appeared was covered by a pink nose. Tetsurou smirked at the onslaught of hearts and coos shown on the screen as he picked up the calico.

Kenma stirred a little, but didn't wake.

"Kenma?" Tetsuro shook him gently. "Check point, pause the stream or something."

Mikasa squirmed in his arm, leaping to the floor. She circled his legs once and exited the office; it was time for breakfast.

Kenma blinked awake, looking disoriented. He sat up quickly and winced.

"Ow," he mumbled, rubbing at his neck. "Kuro, I'm streaming."

"No, you were sleeping." Tetsurou did a quick scan of the area, picking up empty wrappers and suspicious looking bottles. His wrist began to beep then. "And that's twelve hours."

"Got it," he sighed, rubbing at his eye. He signed off with an apology and a shake of his head.

He shuffled out of the room, looking dead on his feet. Tetsurou was close at his heels, picking up all the trash he could manage in one trip. Tetsurou threw it out in the kitchen, finally going to feed Mikasa as well.

When he turned, Kenma was sitting at the dining table, with his head down.

"Oi."

Kenma only grumbled.

"What were you shaking your head at, you don't close streams like that."

"The chat was asking questions."

"About what?"

Kenma looked up, his eyes squinting at Tetsurou's neck.

"Your tie is ridiculous."

Tetsurou laughed at that.

"They’re volleyballs, it’s great," he chuckled, looking down at his tie.

"Dork."

"Nerd."

Kenma smiled sleepily. "The chat was asking about your dorky tie. I refused to be held accountable for your questionable fashion sense."

Tetsurou shrugged. "I like what I like. I'm heading out, I've got a meeting with the Alders' PR manager."

"Have fun."

"Go to bed."

Kenma nodded, watching as Mikasa swished her tail back and forth as she ate.

Kuro had been overworking himself recently. He often forgot how to separate home from work. It was like he never left the office. He'd have spreadsheets laid out on the coffee table, calling sponsors and balancing budgets. Mikasa would often fall asleep on top of the sheets, that being the only reason Kuro stopped working at all.

One evening Kenma was laying on the couch, playing on his POP; he'd been feeling nostalgic. Kuro was sitting on the floor, leaned against the couch, running through some numbers. Kenma glanced over and nudged his head with his foot.

"Yeah?" Kuro leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

"Check point."

Kuro's head turned toward him, a smile spreading on his lips. "Yeah, okay."

He stood up and started to crawl on top of Kenma.

"Wait, no—that's not what I meant."

"Too late," Kuro sighed, burrowing under Kenma's chin. Kenma huffed, settling the handheld on top of Kuro's head.

It was easy to fall asleep like that, POP slipping from his hand, eyes drooping, Kuro's slow breaths lulling him to sleep as well. Life was hectic enough as it was, being a respite for each other only made sense. Easy check points to rest.

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #the cat is named after the volleball brand #it is kuroo's doing #FLUFF #domestic fluff #no plot here #ao3fic #writing #fanfiction #742 words #bicsbec

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hailsatanacab · 5 months

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Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."