Date night: a night spent romancing one another and ultimately spending quality time with your romantic partner. You and Kenma, however, had a somewhat different version of date night. You sat on his lap as he played at his PC, occasionally rubbing his hand against your thigh. It was slightly unusual due to his standoff-ish demeanor when it came to physical affection. He loved it, yes, but his introverted personality held him back. It nearly took him three weeks, after the two of you started dating, to begin holding your hands. He tossed his mouse aside out of frustration— to no avail, of course— the mouse not making it far due to the mousepad. Once again, he lost the match, which led to him quietly cursing beneath his breath.

Kenma grabbed his headset, placing it on his desk with a sigh. After logging out of the game completely, he let his head fall down against your shoulder, still complaining about how his teammates had completely fumbled the match. “Stupids.” He mumbled quietly, his hand rubbing back and forth on your leg, his touches were soft and graceful. Of course, you laughed, both from the ticklish sensation of his fingertips gracing your skin and his whining. Kenma looked up at you, his eyebrows raised and his eyes containing a bewildered look. “What?” He asked, tilting his head curiously. It was almost as if you couldn’t have been laughing at his subtle tantrum, not that he had even realized he was acting as such. Kenma grabbed your hand, silently pleading you’d tell him whatever it was you were laughing at. His mind couldn’t stand not knowing.