disclaimer: I don't own Hiyokoi.
notes: Severely upset that there are only two fics in the archive. This is my first fic for this fandom, but I'm determined to fill it with Yuushin/Hiyori love.
Yuushin likes to carry Hiyori. He likes to pick her up beneath her arms and lift her until they're eye level. It's a privilege, he thinks, to be able to do what most struggle to do, because he's so tall and she's so small. His upper body is like a key hole that only this tiny, cute, wonderful, and oh-so-much-more girl with the hazel eyes can fill and he loves it and he loves her.
Sometimes, he spins her about, all smiles and laughter while she's a mixture of blush and blabber. It never lasts long - her blubber, he teases frequently - because he puts her down before she's given a chance to protest his display of affection, silently glad that he can leave that rosy, permanent stain on her cheeks that she tries too hard to hide behind her baby hands.
It hurts to kiss Yuushin. Hiyori has to bend her neck and stand on the very tip of her toes - which doesn't help at all - while this big, gigantic seemingly beautiful boy has to bend more than half his height to close the deal. It is incredibly embarrassing, if not a little disheartening, because in all the tear-jerking, "sap-filled" romance films she'd dragged Ritsuka to see with her, lovers meet half-way before they kissed.
The girl isn't supposed to meet a quarter of the way, while the boy fills the other grueling seventy-five percent.
Yuushin never minds. He says it isn't painful.
"And even if it was," he says, smoothing a hand over her bangs to bump heads with her, "it's a good kinda pain."
His gentle reassurance peels away her worries to make room for more oddly angled kisses and hugs and sweet corned lines that makes her toes curl and her ears burn.
Hiyori likes to hold hands, but she likes to, quite literally, stuff her hands in his pockets more, he notices one day. One could almost call the gesture a secret. She does it quietly, baby steps going unheard against the crunchy snow on the way to school as she sneaks up from behind, slipping her hand through the gap of his arm and into the folds of his pocket.
He never catches her in the act, always smiles down at her when she gives him her usual morning greeting with the upturned lips (returning it with one of his own, of course), and it isn't until moments later when he's pulling his hands out of his pockets that he feels and spots the curl of her pretty fingers filling the gaps of his wide digits.
Yuushin lifts it, eyebrows drawn low in curiosity as he gives their intertwined hands a gloss over with those expressive cinnamon eyes of his. "When did you do this?"
She never answers him, honey-brown irises twinkling with something akin to mischievousness and affection, as she giggles like the chime of the bell signalling class and shakes her head.
Hiyori has a habit of buying her boyfriend too-small things, knowing that he's tall, but not quite knowing just how tall he is. Her a million and one apologies go unheard when Yuushin's pulling on the hat she bought him for Christmas, large ears folding over like an elephant's and messy hair becoming even messier when he points to himself and say, "Does this make my head look big?"
His question makes her stop, forget, and laugh, just like everything he does. She thinks he's silly - never in a bad way and always in a good way - but she doesn't need to know that he does it purposely, if only to see her pretty smile and beaming eyes replace those heartbroken irises and downtrodden lips.
Yuushin doesn't like it when Hiyori cuts her hair. He doesn't mind the length either way, because his girlfriend looks cute no matter what she does to her hair. Be it pigtails, ponytails, braids, or buns - he's there to touch it and play in it (sometimes) and compliment it in a heartbeat.
But when she's in her bedroom marking off her calender with a sticky note as a reminder not to miss her appointment next week, he's there to tower over her with his own sticky note, jamming it above her own with his giant fingers. Hiyori isn't quite sure what to make of the picture - it looked like an egg with chicken feet and sausage lips - but she's blushing and ducking her head and curling the ends of her hair around her finger while Yuushin's hiding his own embarrassment in the back of her shirt in a half hug, half hold kinda thing.
"I like your hair."