AN: to the anon, and I suppose anyone unfamiliar with The Boys, Kimiko is not hearing impaired but is non-verbal, which is why Frenchie may go between speaking and signing. Thanks for the prompt, anon :)
You know you can just ask, right? Kimiko signs, a soft smile on her face as she looks over to Frenchie.
I don’t know what you’re talking about, Frenchie signs back, his face already turning pink. He shifts his eyes over to his hands, attempting to avoid Kimiko’s knowing stare.
She reaches out and runs a single finger from the tip of his middle finger to where his palm meets his wrist and a huff of air leaves his nose, his blush going all the way up to his ears.
Frenchie doesn’t move other than a twitch of his fingers, eyes still glued to his hands.
Kimiko puts a single teasing finger under Frenchie’s chin, forcing him to look at her.
All you have to do is ask, Kimiko signs, leaning in to kiss the corner of Frenchie’s mouth.
He pulls away, nose scrunching as Kimiko’s finger leaves his chin with a light scratch.
Kimiko rolls her eyes, leaning away from Frenchie so she can stand up from where they had been cuddling on the couch. Before she can fully stand, Frenchie grabs her arm, sending her the best puppy-dog eyes that he can.
If you’re not going to ask for it, she begins to sign, then I guess I’m just gonna go get some food.
Frenchie lets out a groan— totally not a whine, he’s a scary assassin, he would never whine— before pulling Kimiko back into him.
“It’s embarrassing,” he says, throwing an arm over his face.
Kimiko pokes him in his side, which is now exposed, and Frenchie jumps, his arm shooting back down. His eyes look hopeful, but he goes back to his look of frustration when he sees the lopsided smirk on Kimiko’s face.
Alright then, guess I’m gonna go ask Annie if she wants to go for dinner, Kimiko shrugs as she signs to Frenchie.
“Fine!” He exclaims, “I’ll try.”
Kimiko grins from ear-to-ear, sending Frenchie a thumbs-up.
“Can- Will- Please-,” Frenchie stammers out before groaning, frustrated by his own embarrassment. “Please?”
Kimiko pretends to consider it for a moment before responding, jokingly stroking her chin, you’re so cute when you get like this.
Her fingers dive down to Frenchie’s stomach, and somehow the anticipation has made his ticklishness so much worse, because he is in stitches within seconds of it.
“Plehehease! Ihihit tihihickles!” He giggles, shaking his head back and forth. Kimiko can’t help but smile at the sound of his laughter, grinning a childish, toothy grin when she notices that he is just holding her wrists as if to make sure her hands can’t leave his body.
She goes down to his sides and his laughter jumps and octave, snorts peppered in. “NOHOHO!”
He grips her wrists ever-so-slightly tighter, and she decides to try something new, something softer. She twists their hands so her fingers can ghost along his palms, and his laughter dissolves into soft, airy chuckles. She hums a sound akin to cooing and his face goes from pink to bright red, but he can’t find it in himself to try to get away.
With one hand Kimiko starts to spell out a sentence on his palm, being interrupted every few letters by Frenchie’s twitching.
“Ihihi-“ he giggles, “Ihihi lohohove yohou tohoho.”
