Haikyuu x Reader

Kozume Kenma - Brownie Beat-Down

"Did you find the flour yet?"

"No, but did you know that you have a can of carrots that expired two years ago in here?" You responded, standing on a chair to get a better view of all the wonders the pantry had to hold.

"You're supposed to be looking for flour, not harassing me about my pantry," your boyfriend uttered. Kenma was sat at the kitchen table, all the needed ingredients to make brownies surrounding him in an unorganized disaster, all except the bag of flour. His phone was propped up against the carton of eggs, eyes trained on a gameplay video. "Have you checked the cabinet over the fridge?"

"I can't believe you don't know where you keep the flour." You hop down, dragging the chair over to the spot he suggested. You pull the cabinet open, leaning up on your toes, because despite the chair, you still failed to have a clear view.

"I think it's in a big tupperware, if that helps," Kenma states, glancing briefly in your direction, warily eyeing your precarious perch, partially ready to rush over in case you fell.

But, there all in the way on the back of the shelf was a container, just like he had told you, partially filled with the missing ingredient that had been the subject of your quest for the past thirty minutes. You had suggested just going to the store to buy more after not being able to find it after a five minute search, but Kenma assured you that there was flour somewhere. Besides the two of you were dressed in pajamas, ready for long hours of running Link across the fields of Hyrule, wrecking some 12 year olds in various Minecraft games, and inevitably watching your relationship end over a blue turtle shell.

You take the container and hop down, setting it down among the other ingredients. "Okay, ready?"

"Why are we baking brownies again? I could've just bought some when I was at the store yesterday," Kenma mutters, locking his phone and slipping it into his pocket as he stands up.

"Because, I couldn't do this if we just bought them!" You giggle, flicking sprinkles of flour all over his hair, letting it settle in his hair like snow.

"You're really asking for me to dump this on your head," he teases, holding up the little container of cocoa powder.

"No! If you do that, we can't make brownies!"

Kenma raises the box, tilting it ever so slightly to make you flinch as you readied yourself for the powder to coat your head, but it never did. You slowly look up into your boyfriend's face, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

The website that held the recipe that you were using had a prep time of approximately 20 minutes, but with all of your kitchen shenanigans and having to fish out one or ten eggshells out of the batter, it was closer to an hour before Kenma was sliding the pan into the oven. The two of you washed your hands, putting the ingredients back in their places, leaving the mixing bowls in the sink to soak away all of the remnants of the unbaked brownies.

"Okay, I set a timer for 40 minutes," you say, pressing the start button on your phone screen, watching the timer start to tick down.

"Does that mean we have time for Mario Kart?" Kenma asks, his voice calm, but there was no masking that excited twinkle in his eyes. It was one of his favorite games to play with you, the perfect mix of casual gaming and fighting the urge to rage quit as Bowser overtook both of you for the third race that day. It lead to a lot of playful smack talk, lightly bumping shoulders to try to mess the other up, and giggles as you waged a war to create the dumbest kart possible.

"I think we have more than enough time for some Mario Kart," you smile, reaching up to push a piece of hair from his eyes.

That was all it took for Kenma. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, pulling up the game as you set drinks down on the coffee table. There's a soft tug on your wrist, bringing you down so that you were sitting firmly in his lap, hair tickling your cheek ever so slightly as he rested his chin against your shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist so he could hold both you and the controller. "I'm so going to kick your ass," Kenma snorts, selecting his character.

"In your dreams, maybe," you retort, the smirk evident in your voice.

While the scene may have appeared cute in the beginning, it didn't take long for Kenma to be pushing you from his lap so he could lean forward in intense concentration, not that you minded of course. You tended to move around way too much, so you were better suited to having your own spot next to him on the floor where sabotaging his first place was infinitely harder, but the extra challenge made it all the more fun. It turned eerily silent as the races came to a close and the points ticked higher and higher. Controllers had been knocked from hands more than once. He had found himself standing in front of you to block your view, but you simply pushed yourself between his legs to combat his attempt at foul play.

The screams and shouts that followed a blue shell that ended up spinning both of you into the lower ranks must have drowned out the beeping of the timer on your phone as it sang and vibrated violently against the kitchen counter. But, Mario Kart has taken your attention, brownies long forgotten. Beating Kenma was more important! You were only trailing him by seven points! You couldn't just let him take this win!

"So, what do I get when I win?" Kenma asks, the small teasing smirk on his lips as he leans over to you to lightly bump you.

"I think I should be asking you the same thing."

"Nice try, shit head, but you're not going to beat me."

"Shit head? Look who's talking, pudding headass."

There's a bewildered expression on his face as he tears his gaze away from the screen to look at you. "You've really gotta stop hanging out with Kuroo so much."

You say nothing, but you do stick your tongue out at him, taking the opportunity to pull ahead of him. "I will be expecting one chocolate frosty and a side of fries at your earliest convenience," you sigh, leaning back in victory as you make your way across the finish line.

There's a few short sniffs from your boyfriend as he sits up straighter. "Do you smell that?"

"Yeah, it smells like victory."

"No, it smells like smoke."

The two of you slowly turn to look at each other, eyes wide with realization.

"The brownies!"