Ship: Yahaba/kyoutani Fandom: Haikyuu Major tags: Minor body horror? Other tags: Shape shifting, near death experience, mention of drowning Word count: 674
***
"Why did you do it?" Yahaba asks, pulling the quilt tight around himself and wondering how bad an idea sitting right on top of the fire would be right now.
The man, the monster, the wolf and the dog in one shrugs. Yahaba would think he couldn't talk if he hadn't yelled at him to stop fighting! as he pulled him out of the frozen water.
Yahaba goes back to watching the flames. "Whatever. Thanks. I guess."
The man with nightmares in his skin snorts, and hands over a pot filled with stew. Yahaba doesn't scoop it up to eat with his bare hands, but it's a close thing. He places it over the fire, and makes his brain work enough that he can find a wooden spoon to stir it with.
His host grunts in approval and takes the form of an ordinary looking, if large, dog and leans against his side. Yahaba adjusts the quilt so he only has a single layer of cloth between him and the warm not-animal. He adjusts until he's giving Yahaba as much contact and heat as possible. The chill that's sat close to Yahaba's bones since he plunged through the ice slowly, so slowly, begins to lift.
"I was pretty sure you were going to eat me," he comments, mildly. He's replaying how it went down in his mind, stabbing himself with the sound of the ice splintering. The creature he doesn't have anything close to a name for looks at him with a single eye until he goes back to stirring the pot. "Thanks for that bit, too. Not eating me."
The dog wuffs, but doesn't offer further input. He smells like the hunting dogs that live on the castle grounds after rain, but Yahaba is having to hold himself back from lying full length on the dog and inhaling. It's the best scent in the world. It lets him remember that he's alive, so much more than the smell of the stew as it grows warmer.
They eat together. The dog remains as a dog, lapping up and slurping down his half of the stew. Yahaba might call that rude, except he thinks it has to be so he can keep pressed to Yahaba's side and keep sharing that warmth.
They sleep after that. The dog pulling his nest of bedding close to the fire and using his nose and a glare to direct Yahaba into it, where he then climbed on top — a warm animal cap to the cosy bed.
Yahaba sleeps the sleep of the dead, with only a passing thought in the morning that he could have really been sleeping that sleep and never woken up from it.
When he wakes fully, he realises that the dog isn't a dog anymore. Yahaba's movement wakes him, and he grubles and sits up to free Yahaba from his weight.
Even half dead and exhausted to his core, one of the few parts of Yahaba's mind working at full capacity sees fit to inform him that the man's body is exactly the type he wants to have sex with. He has muscles that shift smoothly under his skin whenever they grow taught but are otherwise invisible under his solid padding.
"Sorry," the man again grunts, and goes to shift back to dog. Yahaba catches him half way, pulling his oddly stretched mouth to his own and kissing him with a sloppy insistence, because if he's going to do something he's going to do it right. The man-dog's form wavers, but he settles on something like human, though his ears are a dog's and his face has more of a muzzle. The effect is fairly hideous, but Yahaba imagines this is where his senses are at their best while also letting him speak.
"Do you have a name?" Yahaba asks, erring on the side of caution and considering that perhaps he doesnt need one. "I'm Yahaba."
The man nods. "Kyoutani," he replies.
Somehow, this is the most comfortable Yahaba has ever been with anyone.
FILL: team miyuki kazuya/oikawa tooru, T
Fandom: Haikyuu
Major tags: Minor body horror?
Other tags: Shape shifting, near death experience, mention of drowning
Word count: 674
***
"Why did you do it?" Yahaba asks, pulling the quilt tight around himself and wondering how bad an idea sitting right on top of the fire would be right now.
The man, the monster, the wolf and the dog in one shrugs. Yahaba would think he couldn't talk if he hadn't yelled at him to stop fighting! as he pulled him out of the frozen water.
Yahaba goes back to watching the flames. "Whatever. Thanks. I guess."
The man with nightmares in his skin snorts, and hands over a pot filled with stew. Yahaba doesn't scoop it up to eat with his bare hands, but it's a close thing. He places it over the fire, and makes his brain work enough that he can find a wooden spoon to stir it with.
His host grunts in approval and takes the form of an ordinary looking, if large, dog and leans against his side. Yahaba adjusts the quilt so he only has a single layer of cloth between him and the warm not-animal. He adjusts until he's giving Yahaba as much contact and heat as possible. The chill that's sat close to Yahaba's bones since he plunged through the ice slowly, so slowly, begins to lift.
"I was pretty sure you were going to eat me," he comments, mildly. He's replaying how it went down in his mind, stabbing himself with the sound of the ice splintering. The creature he doesn't have anything close to a name for looks at him with a single eye until he goes back to stirring the pot. "Thanks for that bit, too. Not eating me."
The dog wuffs, but doesn't offer further input. He smells like the hunting dogs that live on the castle grounds after rain, but Yahaba is having to hold himself back from lying full length on the dog and inhaling. It's the best scent in the world. It lets him remember that he's alive, so much more than the smell of the stew as it grows warmer.
They eat together. The dog remains as a dog, lapping up and slurping down his half of the stew. Yahaba might call that rude, except he thinks it has to be so he can keep pressed to Yahaba's side and keep sharing that warmth.
They sleep after that. The dog pulling his nest of bedding close to the fire and using his nose and a glare to direct Yahaba into it, where he then climbed on top — a warm animal cap to the cosy bed.
Yahaba sleeps the sleep of the dead, with only a passing thought in the morning that he could have really been sleeping that sleep and never woken up from it.
When he wakes fully, he realises that the dog isn't a dog anymore. Yahaba's movement wakes him, and he grubles and sits up to free Yahaba from his weight.
Even half dead and exhausted to his core, one of the few parts of Yahaba's mind working at full capacity sees fit to inform him that the man's body is exactly the type he wants to have sex with. He has muscles that shift smoothly under his skin whenever they grow taught but are otherwise invisible under his solid padding.
"Sorry," the man again grunts, and goes to shift back to dog. Yahaba catches him half way, pulling his oddly stretched mouth to his own and kissing him with a sloppy insistence, because if he's going to do something he's going to do it right. The man-dog's form wavers, but he settles on something like human, though his ears are a dog's and his face has more of a muzzle. The effect is fairly hideous, but Yahaba imagines this is where his senses are at their best while also letting him speak.
"Do you have a name?" Yahaba asks, erring on the side of caution and considering that perhaps he doesnt need one. "I'm Yahaba."
The man nods. "Kyoutani," he replies.
Somehow, this is the most comfortable Yahaba has ever been with anyone.