Chapter Text
“So since my kids are all he talks about, what do your kids think about ‘Present Mic’?” Nemuri asked Shouta upon his entrance to the teacher’s lounge with a devilish grin.
Shouta’s lips twisted with distaste, “They think he’s... ‘woke’.”
He put air quotes on the last word that had Nemuri barking out a laugh. The other teachers in the lounge, currently only Toshinori and Sekijiro, looked up in interest.
“Seriously?” Nemuri’s eyes gleamed with delight but there was a gentleness to her smile, “Wait till he hears that one.”
“Wait, are you guys talking about that new podcast that all the kids are talking about? On the Mic with Present Mic?” Sekijiro asked as he turned in his desk.
“Mhmm,” Nemuri hummed as Shouta made a noncommittal noise and focused on refilling his coffee mug.
“One of the study groups made me listen to an episode in their free period, Midoriya and his friends,” Toshinori piped up from his desk next to Shouta’s, “I can see why the kids like him. The guy is relatable.”
“And pretty funny,” Sekijiro agreed with a shrug, “Do you guys not like him?”
“He’s loud.” Shouta deadpanned with a glare as he shuffled through the files on his desk trying to find his blank tests and ignored Nemuri’s giggle, “The kids want me to put it on when they have free periods. It’s... distracting.”
He’s not going to say a damn word about the fact that hearing that honey smooth voice drift around his classroom is distracting in some not so innocent ways.
And also some very innocent ways in that it really makes him just want to pack up and go home.
“But his enthusiasm is good for the kids! He covers current news and sometimes he does deep dives into some pretty heavily researched science topics.” Sekijiro argued with a frown.
“Careful, you sound like a fan.” Nemuri teased.
Shouta rolled his eyes; she was enjoying this too much.
“I’m just saying, Present Mic seems like an okay guy.” Sekijiro shrugged nonchalantly.
“Oh!” Fukukado made a noise from the entrance to the lounge as she pushed the door open, “Your students won’t stop talking about that guy either? How in the world are all the students in the school listening to the same show!?”
“One of the students must have recommended his podcast to one of the classes and it spread from there.” Toshinori observed thoughtfully as he tapped his bony chin.
“It was Jirou,” Nemuri supplied as she sauntered over to her desk with a fresh cup of tea, “Her parents work at the same studio that produces On the Mic so she heard about it before the show blew up.”
“I mean, I like his humor,” Fukukado continued as she walked behind Shouta’s desk to get to her own, “And this doesn’t leave this room, but that guy has a seriously sexy voice.”
Shouta’s eyebrow twitched and he took a steadying breath.
He ignored the feeling of Nemuri’s gaze boring into the back of his head.
"You don't say?" Nemuri asked teasingly with a laugh.
"Oh yeah," Fukukado grinned suggestively, "What I wouldn't give to hear that guy's pillow talk."
“Isn’t he gay though?” Toshinori asked as he stroked his chin thoughtfully, “In the episode that Midoriya and the others were listening to he was talking about coming out in high school because he started dating another boy.”
“Yeah sorry to crush any dreams, but he’s also definitely taken,” Sekijiro piped in as Shouta flipped through his fifth folder, “He did an episode on the legalization of gay marriage and he mentioned marrying his high school sweetheart.”
Fukukado's eyes sparkled, “I know, I know! Have you guys heard what he calls his husband? ‘His kitten’ - ah! So cute, I bet he’s like, a super awesome spouse. I mean, seriously-“
“Stop!” Shouta finally slammed the folder on his desk shut with an exasperated groan, internally wincing when the loud sound sparked his growing headache, “Enough. If I hear one more word about Present Mic or his show, I’m gonna lose it.”
“Alright, alright, grumpy pants.” Fukukado eased as she waved her hands, “We’ll change the subject. Or do you need quiet?”
The other teachers were well-accustomed to Shouta’s harsh exterior, having worked with him for over a year at this point, going on two.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to silence them when the teacher’s lounge got too boisterous for his liking.
Nemuri was watching him with a devilish, knowing grin.
Shouta glared at her.
“Just be quieter,” He said finally as he snatched his eye drops from the corner of his desk and marched off toward the bathroom.
He checked his phone on the way and felt the tiniest bit of tension bleed out of him when he saw a text waiting there.
‘Hi love, hope your day is going well! Can we order in tonight? I can already tell I’m gonna be too tired to cook and I know you’re staying late for parent-teacher confs...’
The words were followed by a series of emojis including the drooling face, the puppy dog eyes face, and a series of yellow hearts. Shouta shook his head.
‘Sure. Text me where you order from and I’ll pick it up on my way home.’ He responded before pocketing his phone.
Notes:
For context, my timeline is a bit weird here. Shouta and Hizashi are meant to have started dating their senior year, then attended college together, married right out of college and (as of this fic) been married and working for ~2 years. So they're roughly 25/26.
Chapter Text
Shouta lasted another month before hearing about Present Mic again, but this time he was expecting it.
There was now an official Instagram and Twitter page for the podcast called “on_the_mic_pod” where Present Mic could post pictures that went along with his weekly episode topic, informative links for when he didn’t have time to give as much detail as he wanted, and overall have more fan interaction.
And along with that account, which had debuted around the same day as the discussion in the teacher’s lounge, finally came a photo of Present Mic himself.
Fans of the show had speculated hard about what Present Mic would look like.
Most people rationalized that he wouldn’t look the way they expected, like a public radio host when the voice didn’t match the person.
Shouta had gotten a whole night’s discussion about it and a text in warning before the picture was posted, but looking at the comments still made his blood boil.
It was a photo taken in what was clearly a home studio, a selfie taken by one slender extended arm.
In the photo, Present Mic was reclined in his office chair, his long, long legs propped on the dark wooden desk in front of himself and a small calico cat curled happily in his lap.
He had his long golden-blonde hair done up in a vaguely messy bun, his jade green eyes peeking out from behind tinted glasses with a playful wink. His lips were upturned in a smirk.
He was wearing simple dark skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that left the half-sleeve tattoo on his left arm peeking out, showing off his pale bicep. His left hand rested on the sleeping cat’s head, adorned with a plethora of rings and bracelets.
His pierced ears and eyebrow were plainly visible, the silver jewelry sparkling in what must have been afternoon sun streaming into the studio.
‘If this week’s episode is posted late, it’s because I’ve been turned into an impromptu napping spot for Jellybean!’ The caption on the photo read followed by a series of hashtags promoting the show.
All in all, it was a good photo. A really good photo. It stirred up warmth in Shouta’s chest and made his lips curve into an involuntary smile.
And now everyone in school was talking about Present Mic differently.
Because everyone had come to same conclusion.
Present Mic was HOT.
The commenters raved about ‘how could Present Mic get a job in podcasting when he clearly had the body and face of a model?!’
Shouta huffed jealously and pocketed his phone as he leaned forward to rest his head on his desk.
And before he could even prep himself mentally, Fukukado was bursting into the staff room, which was packed full of all the teachers since the bell had yet to ring for homeroom.
“Guys!” She shouted over the chatter, “Have you seen it?!”
“Seen what?” Nemuri was the first to speak up from the shocked silence that the teal-haired woman shout had caused.
“Present Mic posted a selfie!” She flipped her phone around to show off the photo, and showing that she clearly followed the podcast account.
“Oh, did he now?” Nemuri was the only one who didn’t crowd in to look at the picture or check her own Instagram feed, instead raising an eyebrow at Shouta who had turned his head sideways to peak at the commotion.
He rolled his eyes causing her to giggle and turned his face back into the wood of his desk.
“He... doesn’t look how I imagined.” Sekijiro said evenly as the other teachers nodded.
“Uhm, you mean hot as fuck?!” Fukukado asked loudly, jamming her finger at the photo that was still displayed on her phone.
“There could be students outside!” Shouta chastised, slightly muffled by his desk, but he went entirely ignored.
“He looks so young!” Toshinori commented as he eyed Fukukado's phone, “Or at least, closer to your age than mine!”
He chuckled at his own joke and Fukukado laughed along with him obnoxiously.
Shouta sighed.
“And all the tattoos and piercings... surprising.” Sekijiro commented, “He sounded like an intellectual that wouldn’t go for that image.”
Nemuri huffed defensively, “Hey! I have tattoos and piercings! Are you saying I don’t come across as an intellectual? And Shouta has tattoos!”
Shouta raised his head to glare at her and tugged self-consciously at his button down’s long sleeves, “I don’t want any part of this discussion.”
“Not that it’s bad thing!” Sekijiro said quickly, “He looks... uhm... hip?”
“He loooooks,” Fukukado waved her phone around again as she drew out the word, “Good enough to eat!”
“Jesus,” Shouta breathed wondering if it was too early in the morning to be getting a migraine already.
His phone chimed in his pocket and he cracked an eye open to pull it out and read the text on the screen.
‘Did you like the picture of me and Jelly belly? (;’
He took a breath and rested his chin on the table, arms outstretched in front of himself to type his response.
‘You look good.’ He responded, feeling a bit pressured to add an emoji or two to get his appreciation across as he listened to Fukukado wax poetic about Present Mic’s biceps, but that wasn’t his style.
He huffed and sent the message.
What he received in response was another series of emojis, yellow hearts and an all caps ‘thank yoouuuu, kitten!!’
He felt himself relax. His husband knew his love language; compliments have never been his strong suit.
“Can we have him as a guest speaker? Anything to get me closer to this man?” Fukukado was complaining loudly.
“I’m just gonna remind you that he’s very, very married, girly~” Nemuri sing-songed as she passed Shouta’s desk and ran her manicured nails across his shoulders in a comforting gesture.
He hummed appreciatively and turned his phone over, finally sitting up at his desk. He stretched until his back popped satisfyingly.
“I knooooow.” Fukukado answered as she slinked over to plop down at her desk, “Check out his wedding ring, it’s kind of goals.”
“Goals...” Toshinori repeated to himself as he frowned down at his own phone.
Shouta peeked over at the neighboring desk where the older man sat and blanched when he saw the older teacher had now also followed ‘on_the_mic_pod’ on Instagram.
Present Mic’s wedding ring was in fact very visible, nestled alone on his ring finger among the several other rings on his other fingers.
It was a black tungsten band with a golden engraving on the outside that, upon closer inspection, appeared to be the tiny, minimalist rendering of sheet music.
Shouta had the ring custom made before their college graduation and he knew that there was an inscription on the inside of the ring that read, ‘My sun and my sky.’
It matched the inscription of the simple black ring that he wore on a chain around his own neck beneath his clothes that bore the corresponding inscription, ‘My moon and my stars.’
Shouta shook his head and tried to ignore the ongoing discussion about how pretty Present Mic’s green eyes were and instead started grading the essays he’d gotten halfway through last night.
Chapter Text
“And now I’m going to read a few lovely listeners’ emails,” Present Mic’s calming titter floated through the doorway as Shouta entered the teacher’s lounge, begrudging the fact that he couldn’t immediately turn around and walk back out.
Sekijiro noticed his sour expression and made a placating gesture, “We’re just listening to this little snippet, I promise! Fukukado said he took a question from a UA student this week and we wanna hear his answer.”
Shouta sighed and waved a hand, knowing he didn’t look as nonchalant as he tried. As soon as he sat in his desk Nemuri slipped over and hopped up on the corner, facing him partly, “Ooooo, wonder what the question was! Do you know who sent it?”
“No,” Shouta answered quietly so that only the dark haired woman could hear him and kept his eyes on his desk as he rifled through his bag to pull out his laptop, “The person used a nickname to remain anonymous.”
“Hmm,” Nemuri gave a disappointed pout as she tuned back into the podcast playing from Fukukado's phone speakers.
“This question is from ‘Deku, a student at UA High School’ - Plus Ultra, am I right?” Present Mic had an uncanny ability to even sound like he waggling his eyebrows, “And it reads ‘What is you favorite high school memory?’”
“He knows our school motto!” Toshinori said in delighted surprise as Fukukado nodded excitedly.
Shouta resisted the urge to point out that was because not only did Present Mic’s husband teach at UA, but also that was where Present Mic himself had attended high school.
Present Mic gave a gentle laugh, “Well, I’m sure this will come as a surprise to no one, but my favorite memory from high school involves my amazing hubby.”
He laughed sheepishly, knowing that his listeners often teased about how many times Present Mic could mention his ‘*insert positive/affectionate adjective* husband’ per episode.
“But hear me out!” Present Mic said quickly, “In this memory we actually weren’t even dating yet. See, pre-boyfriend period my Kitten and I were best friends for almost two years - with what our friends now tell us were very poorly concealed crushes.”
“Anyway, we took a very poorly planned weekend trip to the beach in my very crappy car.” Present Mic continued, his voice dropping into a reminiscent tone, “That we ended up sleeping in for two nights because the only motel with an opening had a bug infestation.”
He laughed warmly, “I had made four - count 'em, listeners - FOUR mixtapes for our trip full of our favorite songs which was way too many for such a short trip.”
“It was probably the most imperfect trip I have ever taken in my entire life. And that was before we got caught by a very kind police officer who found us drinking on the beach at 2AM.” He paused for a long moment as his voice lilted with laughter, “He let us off with a warning, but he took the alcohol that we had spent all of our money on instead of buying sunscreen!”
“Ah, jeez, listen to me - to all my young listeners please be responsible,” Present Mic tried for a serious tone, but he chuckled again, "Do as I say, not as I do!"
Shouta found himself lost in the memory, remembering being sixteen years old and sleeping pressed flush against his best friend turned massive crush in the backseat of a too warm car that smelled like a mixture of the two of them and crisp saltwater.
He remembered waking up before Hizashi and trailing hesitant fingers through his best friend’s loose blonde hair, much shorter at the time, as he tried not to disturb the other boy from his somehow peaceful slumber.
He remembered staring down at Hizashi’s slack lips and wondering what it would be like to kiss the other boy awake.
“It would have been a lot more romantic if we didn’t spend half the time sunburnt as hell with enough sand in our shorts to build a castle in the car.” Present Mic joked lightly, “In fact that’s probably why I didn’t confess right then and there on that trip, but...”
“It was the happiest and most free that I have ever felt in my entire life. It felt like we were the only two people on the planet for those few days.” He finished, his voice soft and warm as he trailed off into thought.
Shouta’s entire body felt like it was too warm. His heart pounded in his chest and he had a nearly irresistible urge to drop everything, call his husband, and demand that they go back to that beach.
He shook himself as Nemuri snapped her fingers in his face, realizing that he was grinning stupidly at his desk.
“Woooow, how are you two so sickening even after six years.” Nemuri smirked at him as Shouta tried to will away the blush that had bloomed across his cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shouta grumbled as he rubbed his hands on his slacks and bit the inside of his cheek, “And it’s about to be seven.”
On the podcast audio Present Mic was apologizing profusely for talking about his husband so much.
“Ah, sorry, sorry,” He sputtered in nervous English, a habit that he had for switching into the other language when he was trying to explain things away. He’d done it since they were in high school and Shouta would never admit that he thought it was goddamn adorable.
“I didn’t mean to go on about my Kitten for so long!” Present Mic exclaimed, “I suppose I’m especially sentimental around this time, since our wedding anniversary is coming up!”
“Those two are lucky,” Thirteen said quietly with a soft smile, “They sound so happy together. I think Present Mic’s husband sounds amazing.”
“I know right!” Fukukado grinned, “He sounds so sweet!”
“It does sound like quite a healthy marriage,” Toshinori agreed, “The way Present Mic talks on the show it makes it sound like he’s spoiled by his husband.”
Now Shouta’s face felt hot for an entirely different reason.
He swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling crawling across his skin, “Ch, you just think that because Mic has nothing bad to say about him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fukukado pointed an angry finger at him.
“It means he’s probably some ass who doesn’t deserve Mic in the first place.” He said with a shrug, letting out a yelp when he was swatted in the back of the head.
“Aizawa Shouta!” Nemuri scolded him, clutching a bent folder in her hand, “What would your husband say if he heard you talking like that?”
It was long and ongoing that Shouta had bouts of insecurity, when he struggled with his self-worth.
It had gotten to the point that he couldn’t even make a self-degrading joke without getting scolded by his friends.
Perhaps because even if he was joking, he did feel a constant undercurrent of truth.
He did have days where he doubted being worthy of Hizashi’s unconditional adoration. It was easy to feel that way when the blonde loved so easily and wholeheartedly. Even after almost nine years of knowing each other, Shouta had a hard time accepting the affection.
Shouta rolled his eyes and shot her a meaningful look, but suddenly his and Nemuri’s familiar banter was the least of his worries.
Because he found himself with a desk full of Fukukado.
“Aizawa, you’re married?!” She practically shouted the question and ignored the way the dark-haired man flinched.
Ah, shit.
Nemuri shot him an apologetic glance but Shouta raised a finger in her direction. It was fine, with everyone’s obsession with Present Mic, his marriage wasn’t likely to stay secret much longer anyways.
He had kept his marriage under wraps since starting his job at UA over a year ago, not because he was ashamed of it, but because in the beginning he liked to keep his private life private.
He wanted to know his coworkers better before letting them have a peek at the person that Shouta was outside of school hours. The person that he was with Hizashi, the man who completed him.
God, that blonde had the ability to make him sappy in a way that Shouta both despised and reveled in.
He gave a tired groan, “Yes, I’m married.”
The podcast and any discussion of Present Mic had been entirely forgotten by the occupants of the teacher’s lounge.
“For how long?! Why didn’t you tell us?!” Fukukado demanded as she jammed a finger at the dark haired man’s chest.
“Well, married for going on two years and because it wasn’t relevant.” He answered calmly as he opened his laptop and typed in his password.
“Oh? Well it might be late, but congratulations!” Toshinori commented with a gentle smile.
Curse that man’s good nature.
“Two years! But you’ve almost been working here for two years! You got married right before you got your new job?” Fukukado asked nosily as she eyed his left hand, “And where’s your ring?”
“Too many questions,” Shouta deadpanned but he met her enthusiastic gaze for less a minute before he sighed defeatedly, “Yes, I got married while I was still in my first year of teaching at Shiketsu High before starting at UA and I don’t wear a ring because I don’t want the kids asking questions.”
“Doesn’t your husband get... well, jealous?” Toshinori asked hesitantly as he waved his hands innocently, “I just mean, if I was married I’d want everyone to know that my spouse was taken!”
Nemuri laughed at that, “Oh, he’s not worried about Shouta being seduced by some home wrecker. I think he’s the only person on the planet who is capable of wooing Aizawa Shouta into feeling an emotion other than ‘tired.’ “
“Oh, so you know his husband?” Thirteen asked before they seemed to think for moment, “Although you two knew each other before Aizawa started at UA, didn’t you? You wrote his recommendation to Nezu.”
Nemuri nodded and patted Shouta on both of his shoulders, “We were all friends in high school! Us and Tensei, Iida Tenya’s older brother. We still hang out.”
Shouta wasn’t sure where he’d be in life if their ragtag group of high school friends hadn’t gone to same college and ended up sticking together. He was happy for it and he actually enjoyed seeing Nemuri every day at work.
As he thought about it, a more clever person might have put it together by now.
With how Nemuri teased him whenever anyone played Present Mic’s podcast in his presence, the fact that Present Mic said he’d married his high school sweetheart and Nemuri had admitted they all attended high school together, and the glaringly obvious fact that Shouta had just mentioned that he was married for ‘almost’ two years right after they’d heard Present Mic mention that his wedding anniversary was approaching.
But apparently, his coworkers were surprisingly unobservant and bad at connecting the dots.
“Only person 'capable'? What’s that supposed to mean?” Fukukado was asking as he snapped back to reality.
“It means that Shouta is wrapped around his husband’s pinky finger.” Nemuri answered as she pushed off of the corner of Shouta’a desk and made a ‘wh-tsh’ noise as she mimicked the cracking of a whip.
If looks could kill then Shouta was sure that he would have reduced his friend to a pile of ash by now.
He glared at her even as his coworkers made shocked noises and Fukukado giggled.
“Say, I wanna meet this hotshot husband of yours!” Fukukado said in delight, “Anyone who can tame Aizawa is someone worth my time, I never imagined you to be the whipped husband type!”
Toshinori smiled as he watched his younger colleagues’ banter, but Shouta could see the curiosity in his eyes as well, “If you don’t mind me asking, Aizawa, why didn’t you bring him to the cultural festival last year?”
Shouta shrugged, “He was busy.”
It wasn’t a lie, the festival had lined up with the period of time when Hizashi had been negotiating his deal with the studio to begin making On the Mic with Present Mic.
“Well, why haven’t you ever invited him when we go out for drinks after work?” Fukukado pushed.
“Because he works a lot.” Shouta answered with another shrug, which was also true.
Thankfully Hizashi worked from home so he got to see his energetic husband plenty, but between researching, hosting, editing, and producing his own podcast along with negotiating advertisement deals for profit and making time to hang out with Nemuri and Tensei, Hizashi didn’t have a lot of free time.
And any free time he usually got in the evenings was spent with the two of them getting *ahem* reacquainted with each other.
“Well, then it’s settled.” Fukukado gave him a dramatically stern look, “You’ll just have to make sure that he’s free this year for the cultural festival and that he comes and that you introduce to the entire staff!”
Shouta gave her a disinterested half-lidded stare before he made a noncommittal noise that was neither in agreement nor disagreement and shoved her off of his desk.
Notes:
Definitely considering writing a spin-off or two of Hizashi answering more listeners' questions or maybe a flashback/prequel fic.
Chapter Text
When Shouta suggested a weekend optional P.E. lesson focusing on self-defense he wasn’t counting on three things:
1. For the entirety of Class 1-A to opt in.
He had thought at least some of them, like the aptly dubbed Bakusquad or even Sato or Jirou, to already have weekend plans, but instead his entire class had shown up.
Nemuri was right, Class 1-A really was smitten over him. It wasn't a bad thing, and since Shouta had only been teaching for a few years now he couldn't say for sure what was special about the group, but he felt there was something special about the students of Class 1-A.
Then the second thing.
2. For Fukukado, Toshinori, and Nemuri to volunteer to join in case he had his hands full.
Of course, seeing how full the class was he was glad that they had, but it was still a lot to deal with their energy, especially Fukukado's, on a Saturday when he usually would be sleeping in or quietly grading at his kitchen table while Hizashi made breakfast right about now.
Which brought him to his last point. He had forgotten to tell Hizashi about this event at the beginning of the week.
And thus he’d woken up to Hizashi thinking they were about to have a lazy Saturday morning together with no outstanding appointments.
More aptly, he’d woken up to find his incredibly attractive husband nibbling at the sensitive spot under his ear and grinding his morning wood against Shouta’s ass suggestively.
He’d forgotten for a moment what day it was and had laid there as he let it happen, let the blonde dip his fingers under the waistband of his boxer-briefs and tease the dip in his hip bones.
He had listened to Hizashi let out a throaty whine as he’d then cupped Shouta’s sleep-warm, half-hard dick in his hand and massaged gently as his hips ground against Shouta’s ass, “Shouta~ so sexy, baby~”
Then he’d remember what day it was and promptly shoved Hizashi off of the bed, only feeling a little guilty when the blonde let out a loud, surprised yelp.
“What the hell, Shou!” Hizashi groaned from his spot on the floor and Shouta snatched his phone from under his pillow to check the time.
He’d slept through his alarm and now needed to be at the meeting place, which was 15 minutes away, in 5 minutes.
Shit.
He spared his husband a glance and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Hizashi was sprawled on the floor in lazy defeat having landed in a half sitting up/half laying on his side position.
His blonde hair was sleep tousled adorably and his vibrant green eyes were still tiredly half-lidded as he stared up at the dark haired man in confusion.
But that wasn’t what had Shouta’s breath catching in his throat.
What did that was the rest of the blonde’s lithe body.
Hizashi had either come to bed naked last night or already kicked off his sleeping clothes before he’d woken Shouta up with his pleasant surprise.
His pierced nipples were pointy in the exposed chill of the bedroom air, the sheets tangled in his long, hairless legs and still connecting him to the bed where they were tucked into Shouta’s side.
The white fabric was shifted just so to allow a peek of the blonde’s stiff erection, the pretty pink head of his cock already wet with a pearl of pre-cum from when he’d been grinding against Shouta’s ass moments ago.
Shouta felt his mouth water and blinked distractedly even as Hizashi gave him a lewd grin, "Wanna join me down here?"
“I have a thing- voluntary training- at school- class.“ He sounded like a skipping record, unable to look away from the smooth expanses of his husband’s pale skin.
Realization clicked in Hizashi’s face and he grimaced in disappointment, “Aw, shit baby.”
“Yeah.” Shouta couldn’t resist sliding out of their bed slowly and lowering himself to the floor next to his lover, letting his fingers trail over the dark ink of Hizashi’s chest tattoos and catching the blonde in a kiss that was supposed to be chaste.
Supposed to be.
Instead they melted into each other, Hizashi’s hands rising to pull Shouta closer by his waist as he opened his mouth and groaned around the gentle, probing tongue there.
Hizashi let out an answering whimper against his lips that made his now fully erect cock twitch in his briefs and Shouta ripped himself away.
“Crap, sorry,” He ran a hand through his hair to try and soothe his bed head, “I really want to, Zashi, god I want to, but I have to go.”
Hizashi had smiled at him, eyes warm with understanding as he’d shooed him to their bathroom where Shouta had splashed cold water on his flushed cheeks.
He threw on his lounge clothes that could double as exercise clothes and rushed out the door after snatching his travel mug from Hizashi’s waiting hands. Bless that man.
“I’ll be waiting!” Hizashi, dressed in a pair of low-hanging sweatpants that showed off his hip bones, called out from the front door to him in a teasing tone as he revved the engine to his motorcycle and blanched at his husband before pulling on his helmet and speeding away.
And so... the last thing he hadn’t counted on...
3. For Shouta himself to be showing up feeling irritable, maddeningly sexually frustrated, and unable to think of anything other than how goddamn delectable Hizashi had looked this morning.
He was almost certain that Nemuri could tell what was up if the smirk on her face was any indication when he came stalking into UA's indoor training grounds.
The students were already gathered into small groups, talking amongst themselves and looking relieved when Shouta finally showed up, only 15 minute late. His class had a tendency to worry when he wasn't punctual, he blamed it on their overactive imaginations.
“Aizawa, is everything alright? It’s not like you to be tardy.” Toshinori asked as he turned to watch the dark-haired man approach them.
“Did your alarm not go off?” Nemuri asked as she tilted her head to take in the furrow of his brow and the tenseness of his shoulders, "Or did you not hear it because you were busy?"
Shouta narrowed his eyes at her, "Nemuri, there are children present."
He couldn't stifle the faint blush that rose on his cheeks and he cursed inwardly as Fukukado's eyes widened.
"Oh my god, that is such a guilty face!" She crowed as she giggled in delight and he rolled his eyes.
Toshinori smiled awkwardly, but didn't join in on the ribbing as Shouta glared at the two women. He huffed and turned his attention to the students instead.
Since the students were already organized into groups it was easy to split them up. It wasn't the first time that Shouta had decided to do self-defense training with Class 1-A (the students found it way more fun than regular P.E. drills so it was easier to get them engaged) so it was easy to walk them through a few exercises before turning them off to practice on their own.
He was content to observe them for a while, ignoring the thrumming energy under his skin as he listened to the chatter of his colleagues next to him.
"Aizawa-Sensei?" A croaky voice piped up from his side and he turned to see Asui and Uraraka, "Is it alright if we play something in the background while we all practice?"
Shouta pursed his lips, "Sure. As long as you all can agree on what to listen to."
He certainly didn't need Bakugo losing his temper over his classmates' taste in music or Jirou teasing Kaminari about his disorganized playlist. It had happened in the past.
To his surprise, when the bluetooth speaker was hooked up and Uraraka pressed play on her phone there was no music, instead the intro to On the Mic with Present Mic began playing and Shouta felt his fingers twitch.
No way.
No way could he spend the next few hours listening to his husband's deep, warm host voice when a mere 30 minutes ago he'd had the man's cock up against his ass.
"A podcast for working out?" Nemuri was the one to pipe up thankfully as Shouta dug his hands into his pockets, "Wouldn't music be better?"
"It's the only thing we can agree to listen to since it's something we all like," Sero said from where he'd been sparring with Ashido, "Plus it helps pass the time!"
"And this episode is about physical fitness so it's on topic!" Ashido said as she caught Sero off-guard and swept his feet out from under him.
Shouta had a moment where he let himself enjoy the pride that swelled in his chest as Ashido, seemingly shocked by her own skill, crowed triumphantly as Sero grinned sheepishly from the ground.
They were only fifteen minutes into the episode and Shouta was certain that this was what torture was like.
True, the episode of On the Mic was about physical fitness, but that meant that Present Mic was rambling on about 'bodies' and 'muscles' and 'flexibility'. Shouta flushed as he tried to block out mental images of his husband using all of those things in very naughty ways.
The worst part was that Present Mic was spending an exceptional amount of time talking about ways that he and his husband stayed fit so he was continuously making references to 'his Kitten'.
He couldn’t bear to hear Hizashi use that nickname whenever he was as wound up as he was right now.
Hizashi used that nickname during sex. And right now that was all Shouta could think about.
“Just a moment, listeners, I have a surprise coffee delivery!” Present Mic was saying in the episode audio as there were shuffling sounds in the background, “Ah, my Kitten is so good to me!”
Hizashi insisted on leaving little moments like that in his podcast episodes instead of cutting them out to make the episodes more seamless and professional, because he said it made him more relatable and realistic to his listeners.
Shouta tended to agree with him, moments like that or when Jellybean would meow in the background made him smile when he was listening to On the Mic, but now he cursed it.
Hearing Hizashi purr out the nickname like that, his voice bordering on sultry even in just a joking way as he'd sipped his coffee and thanked his husband again, was Shouta's breaking point.
His dick twitched in his pants, already getting hard, and he bit his lip.
He interrupted his colleagues conversation to spit out a quick, "I need to make a call." before he was pushing out of the doors to the indoor training grounds and rushing to the stairway.
He took the stairs two at a time, up two floors just to make sure that no one from the training grounds would risk coming into the same bathroom that he slipped into. He had barely shoved the waistband of his joggers down before he was fishing his phone out of his pocket and clicking a familiar contact photo.
As it began ringing he slowly stroked his hardening member, the flesh warm beneath his palm as he closed his eyes and waited impatiently.
"Hey, baby!" Hizashi's voice cut through on the third ring and Shouta nearly groaned in relief.
“Sorry,” Shouta moaned brokenly as soon as his husband answered the phone and he knew that it was obvious in his voice what he was doing, “I wanted to wait till I got home, but I can’t focus, Zashi, they’re playing On the Mic and I need to- I need-“
“Oh, Kitten,” Hizashi’s tone was low and rough in a way that sent shivers up Shouta’s spine and made his dick jump in his hand.
God, Hizashi always knew exactly what he needed.
“Can’t move around without getting your dick hard because you’re so desperate for me, Shou?” Hizashi asked smoothly and, not for the first time, Shouta was awed at how easily it was for his husband to spill utter filth, “Do you need to cum so that you can focus, love?”
“Yes,” He breathed out as he felt his cheeks flush, “Talk me through it?”
“Do me a favor, baby, and hold the phone between your ear and your shoulder, Kay? I want you to use your other hand.” Hizashi instructed him firmly and Shouta almost whined aloud when the brief fumble meant he had to let go of his, now fully erect, cock.
“Okay, okay,” He breathed as he got his hand back on his dick and began to stroke again slowly, waiting for further instructions.
Hizashi was never one to disappoint, “I want you to use your other hand to tease your hole, Shou. Use two fingers to rub the outside. Press hard, baby, but not hard enough to go in, okay?”
“O-okay.” Shouta did as he was asked and shoved his other hand down lower into his boxer briefs, past his heavy, warm balls to press the pads of his fingers against his hole which spasmed at his touch.
He couldn’t hold back his bitten off gasp and Hizashi let out a chuckle from the other end of the line, “Feels good doesn’t it, Kitten?”
“Nnn, yeah-“ Shouta moaned as he pressed harder just to feel the give of the furled muscle there, an indescribable heat gathering under his fingers as he started to feel almost dizzy with want.
“Makes you realize how badly you want to be filled, doesn’t it, baby? You want to fuck yourself with your fingers so bad right now, don’t you?” Hizashi was smirking, he could hear it in the other man’s voice.
“N-no-“ Shouta let out a quiet groan as he rubbed at his entrance harder and his cock leaked more precum into his hand.
He was panting now, the skin under his shirt getting sticky with sweat as he chased his release.
“No?” Hizashi’s voice changed immediately, the teasing lilt gone as he took on an edge of concern at the unexpected response, “What-“
“I don’t want my fingers, I want you in me.” Shouta cut him off as he pressed harder, rubbing his hole firmly, and sped up the pace of his other hand that was busy jerking himself steadily.
“Shit, baby,” Hizashi’s voice was breathy as he shifted the phone, “I wasn’t going to touch myself, but if you start talking like that...”
Shouta huffed out a laugh that morphed into a breathy whine as he twisted his hand over the head of his cock and pressed his thumb against the slit, “Please... keep talking...”
“You wanna ride me when you get home, Shou?” Hizashi’s voice turned raspy around the edges, the way it did when he was desperately aroused, “I’m doing such a service for you that I think you owe me that much.”
“Yes, anything,” He could feel his balls beginning to draw up as his erection twitched in his hand.
God, he was so close.
“Mmm when you get home I’ll be waiting for you in bed, you can just come right in and sink that gorgeous ass of yours onto my cock, baby. I'm already hard for you. Does thinking about that make you wanna cum, Shou? That I'm laying here in our bed with my cock hard and ready for you to ride?” Hizashi was practically purring now, his voice sending shivers through Shouta’s body.
“Y-yeah-“ He was barely able to choke the word out as he tightened his grip on his cock, his rhythm going sloppy as he pictured lowering himself down into his husband’s perfect dick. His fingers twitched against his hole and he rubbed firmly, drawing another needy moan from his own throat.
“Mmm, would you like that, Kitten? Would my cock feel good filling you up?" Hizashi crooned through the phone.
“Yes, yes, yes,” He chanted as quietly as he could, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him.
Hizashi’s dirty talk had a way of reducing Shouta to single words and syllables, agreeing blindly to anything his husband was offering him.
“Zashi, ‘m so close, I-“ He wanted to beg for anything more, he needed something more, he wanted-
“Cum for me, Kitten.” Hizashi’s command cut through his haze of lust and his hips jolted forward.
“Fuuuuck, Zashi!” He let out a quiet, choked cry as he shuddered and came into his hand, cock pulsing out thick ropes of cum across his fingers.
There was moment of silence as he panted through the aftershocks, his cock twitching in his hand as he stared down at the mess and awkwardly extracted his other hand from his underwear while trying not to let the phone slip when his muscles all suddenly felt faint and shaky.
“Messy?” Hizashi’s teasing voice filtered through his phone’s speakers again and Shouta gave a defeated hum.
“Gotta say, that was a pleasant surprise.” Hizashi chuckled as there was a muffled shuffling sound and he let out a satisfied groan like he did when he was stretching.
Shouta blanched at the now sticky bunched up toilet paper in his hand that he used to wipe away any evidence as he tossed it into the toilet, “Did you go back to bed after I left?”
“Mmmm maybe,” Hizashi sighed, sounding way to comfortable and cheeky.
Shouta huffed and ignored the yearning that pulled at his chest at thought Hizashi sprawled across their comfy, sleep-warm bed, “Lazy.”
His tone was light and joking, knowing that Hizashi deserved a morning to sleep in as much as he did.
“Hey, hey, hey now!” Hizashi protested in English before switching back, “If I hadn’t gone back to bed I probably would have gone to the store and then you would’ve been left high and dry, handsome!”
Shouta rolled his eyes and scoffed sarcastically, “My hero.”
“You bet your ass, literally,” Hizashi laughed at his own cheesy joke, “Wanna talk to me for a few minutes while you calm down?”
Shouta cast a disdainful look at his cock, still half-hard as it softened slowly and twitched occasionally, “Yeah, I can’t go back out there yet.”
He was usually quiet post-orgasm anyways, happy to listen to Hizashi chatter on about what he was planning to get from the store and asking Shouta what their evening plans were.
“It sounded like you have evening plans for me already.” Shouta joked as he slapped his cheeks with cold water and felt a sense of satisfaction with how much his flush had faded.
Hizashi hummed into the phone, “Oh, you have no idea, Kitten."
"Mmm," Shouta inspected himself in the mirror deciding that he looked mostly normal, "I should probably get back out there. It's been too long already."
"Of course, love." Hizashi only sounded a bit disappointed and Shouta felt a tug in his chest.
"I'll text you when I'm on my way home okay?" Shouta adjusted the waistband of his pants again and licked his lips, "I'll make up for missing half of our free day."
Instead of protesting or shifting blame like he normally would, Hizashi was quiet for a moment before muttering a quick, "I'd like that."
They exchanged goodbyes as Shouta made his way back down the stairs, hanging up just as he was walking back into the training grounds and trying to ignore the buzz of embarressment he felt when his colleagues eyes turned to him. Luckily, the students were distracted enough with their sparring practice to have noticed his absence.
He nodded a greeting to them as he sauntered back up to their sides and pointedly ignored Nemuri's calculating gaze.
"Sorry about that." He said to Toshinori and Fukukado as he shifted in his shirt again and tamped down on the self-conscious feeling that somehow they knew what he'd just done on the phone with his husband.
"No problem! That's why we're here, is to help!" Toshinori reassured him with a smile.
'Yeah, but you're not here so that I can go jerk off in a bathroom because I can't just deal with the sound of my own husband's voice,' He thought, instead choosing to simply force a thankful half-smile.
Then he realized that aside from the sounds of everyone gathered in the training grounds, the background noise from On the Mic had disappeared.
"Uh," He blinked and looked over to where the bluetooth speaker was still perched on a bench to the side, "Did the speaker die?"
"Hm?" Fukukado followed his gaze and then waved a hand, "Oh no, we thought that you were getting annoyed with the podcast so we asked the students to either switch to music or turn it off."
"Annoyed?" He repeated as he gave them a confused stare.
"Well you've mentioned that you aren't exactly a fan of Present Mic," Toshinori said gently, "And you were getting fidgety so we thought it was bothering you."
Fidgety.
Dear god, he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.
At least his colleagues thinking that he was annoyed was marginally better than them knowing that he was just hopelessly turned on.
"Right... thanks..." He said awkwardly, finally looking over to meet Nemuri's gaze and grimacing when she tilted her head knowingly with an evil smirk.
Notes:
I love erasermic as a swap couple, but I do really love top!Hizashi; the combo of him being super bubbly and sweet mixed with him being a very dominant, attentive lover reeaalllyyy gets me.
Chapter Text
The one time that anyone from UA almost found out that he was, in fact, married to THE Present Mic is two weeks later.
When he gets hit by a car on his way home from work.
Shouta drives a motorcycle, has ever since college when he couldn’t afford to buy a car to get around, and so in the equation of car vs. Shouta, well... the car wins.
It was the other driver’s fault anyways, an ugly purple hatchback with a decal that says “The League” on the side driven by a creep with light blue hair and his gang of high school drop outs.
Shouta was surprised when, in the hospital, the police say that they stuck around to give a statement even though the accident had been their fault.
“We came as soon as we heard!” Fukukado exclaimed as she burst in the door, Toshinori by her side with a worried expression.
Shouta is grateful to have coworkers who care about him.
Or friends, for that matter.
Aside from Nemuri, he was probably the closest to Fukukado and Toshinori out of all of his coworkers, though he’d never admit that aloud.
It came with the territory that they both worked very closely with his homeroom, Class 1-A.
Nemuri was already seated by his side, having driven home from work the same route as he had and passed as he was being carted into the ambulance.
She had followed them to the hospital and dutifully sat by his side as they waited for the real show to start.
Hizashi was probably going to hurt him worse than the car had.
But even knowing how worried and, subsequently, angry his husband was going to be, Shouta wanted nothing more than to see that face walk through the door.
“Ah,” Shouta raised his good hand, the one that wasn’t already in a cast, and rubbed the back of his neck, “You didn’t have to stop by.”
“Nonsense,” Toshinori stepped closer to his bedside, “We saw Kayama’s text message as we were leaving UA so we were still close by!”
“Are you alright? Will you be able to teach like that? What happened?” Fukukado was rambling off questions one after another and she only quieted when Nemuri clicked her tongue in warning.
Shouta blinked blearily, trying to sort his thoughts out as he looked at them through the haze of pain meds that he’d been given, “A car happened.”
“Someone ran a red light and hit him on his motorcycle.” Nemuri supplied evenly without looking up from her phone; texting Hizashi no doubt.
Shouta pointed at her with his good hand, “That.”
“What a reckless driver!” Toshinori said angrily, “Was it a hit and run?”
“Nah,” Shouta wondered if Hizashi was going draw on his cast since it was dreary, plain white and Hizashi almost certainly would declare that it needed more color.
Fukukado sighed, “Well, at least there’s that.”
“What about your injuries?” Toshinori asked as he eyed the cast in sympathy.
“Mmm, not bad.” Shouta hummed almost absentmindedly.
“His arm is only fractured,” Nemuri gestured to his other injuries, a bandage around his forehead, one on his cheek, and a neck brace, “The brace is precautionary, they’ll take it off when he’s discharged, and the head wound wasn’t serious thanks to his helmet. Aside from bruised ribs, everything else is superficial.”
The two other teachers nodded as they took in the information with relieved expressions, but just as Fukukado opened her mouth to say something more they heard commotion from down hallway through the closed door.
Shouting.
Loud shouting.
Shouta grinned at the white hospital sheets and didn’t care if he looked high out of his mind.
He’d know that shout anywhere.
“I don’t care if there’s a damn visitor limit!” The man’s voice carried down the hallway, “I’m his husband and I’m going in there to kick. his. stupid. ass!!”
There was the mumbling of nurses, sounding like they were trying be placating before drifting into a tone that could only be described as exasperated.
He could picture it in his head, Hizashi would be frazzled.
His hair was likely messy, either thrown into a ponytail or not tied up at all. It was late in the evening since before leaving UA Shouta had been staying late to grade tests, so Hizashi was probably wearing comfy clothes; maybe even dressed in one of Shouta’s old band t-shirts that he liked to sleep in.
“Woah, whoever’s out there sounds pissed.” Fukukado commented with her eyebrows raised.
Toshinori looked vaguely worried, always trying to be the Good Samaritan, “Should we go see if we can help? He sounds... distressed.”
Nemuri was hiding a smile behind her hand as she raised her eyebrows sympathetically at Shouta.
It had gotten quieter, likely Hizashi was apologizing profusely for his outburst and then begging the nurses to let him in despite Shouta apparently being at capacity for visitors.
They would give in.
People always gave in to Hizashi.
It was hard not to when you could tell that the man was looking at you with his heart on his sleeve.
Sure enough a few seconds later there was a muffled chant of harried ‘thank yous’ drifting through the closed door before another shout.
“AIZAWA SHOUTA!”
Both Fukukado and Toshinori’s eyes went wide as they stared at the dark-haired man whose name had just been practically screamed in the hallway.
“Oh dear,” Nemuri sighed as she stood from the chair by his bedside and clamped a hand on either of their colleagues’ shoulders, “Well, that’s our cue. I’ll get someone to cover your class until you’re back, just text me how many days you’ll need. Good luck with that one.”
She jutted her chin at the door as she pushed a spluttering Fukukado and a befuddled looking Toshinori out of the door on the other side of Shouta’s hospital room, opposite to the hallway with all the shouting.
No sooner had the door clicked shut behind them that the other door was slamming open with enough force to hit the wall.
His husband looked like a force to be reckoned with.
Shouta had been right, Hizashi was in fact sporting a low pony tail, his prescription glasses, one of Shouta’s old shirts, and a pair of black joggers riddled with cat hair.
His face was flushed with fury and his swirling green eyes wild with emotion.
Shouta could see it all - he always could with Hizashi - the fear, the worry, the relief when their eyes met.
“I don’t care how goddamn sexy you look on that motorcycle, you are getting a car! A padded car! No, you know what, fuck that, you’ll be lucky if I even let you leave the house from now on!” Hizashi rattled off heatedly as he stalked across the room.
If Shouta had a clearer mind he would’ve been more anxious about knowing that his colleagues were probably still close enough to the other door to hear every word his husband spouted loudly.
But as it was the pain killers were making his stomach feel queasy and they must’ve been wearing off because his arm and head were beginning to throb unpleasantly.
That and the thought that Hizashi would make a very attractive vengeful spirit were the only thoughts in his mind at the moment.
“- it would be easier if no one was allowed to have a license! You know what, no one should be allowed to drive anything! It’s too dangerous! Why did we even invent cars in the first place?! They kill people! We have legs; legs don’t kill people!” Hizashi was rambling on nonsensically, a nervous tick of his when he needed to fill the silence with anything other than his thoughts.
But the exterior was cracking.
His voice was getting thinner and higher pitched. Shouta knew all it would take was one well-aimed blow.
“Zashi,” He cut him off in calm, quiet tone.
He remembered Nemuri and Tensei being constantly shocked that Shouta was able to interrupt Hizashi’s shouting rants with a voice that was barely above a mumble.
But Shouta knew better.
When Hizashi was spewing loud word vomit like this he was fine-tuned to interruptions, poised to the point that the slightest noise from Shouta would make his jaw snap shut.
And it did.
They stared at each other for moment in silence before Shouta patted the bed with his good hand, “I’m okay.”
And just like that the blonde’s face crumpled. He darted to Shouta’s bedside, sitting down gently despite the speed he’d moved at and biting his lip as tears welled in his eyes.
“Are you?” He rasped quietly, reaching up with a hesitant hand that he ran through the tangled, dark hair after he’d brushed his fingers over the other man’s bandaged forehead.
“Mhmm,” Shouta leaned into the touch and ignored that it hurt his back to lean forward as he wrapped an arm around his husband’s slender waist and pulled the other back into the pillows with him.
Hizashi sniffled quietly and rested the hand that had been in Shouta’s hair on his chest instead. He could feel that the taller man was shifting his weight, holding it uncomfortably off to the side to avoid putting too much onto Shouta’s bruised ribs and avoid contact with his arm cast.
“God,” Hizashi’s voice was thick with emotion, jamming up his words and clogging his throat.
He swallowed thickly, took a breath and tried again, “When the hospital called and- and said you’d been in an accident I- I-“
Shouta felt wetness spilling through the thin hospital gown as Hizashi’s shoulders began to shake.
“I was so scared!” Hizashi choked out, breaking off into a sob that wracked his frame.
Shouta felt his heart ache as his husband broke, weeping against his chest as Shouta ignored the dull ache throughout his body and rubbed the blonde’s shoulders with his good hand, occasionally reaching up to run it through the spill of long, blonde hair that he’d released from the elastic.
He knew Hizashi was worried for his safety. Hizashi was, at his core, a worrier. Always going out of his way to take care of others and always worrying that it wasn’t going to be enough.
Shouta also knew that there were some outlying factors.
Hizashi’s mothers had died in a car accident caused by a bad storm during their first year at college, a mere five years ago.
The two of them were both insanely cautious drivers because of it and Shouta had always hoped that he’d never see another hospital related to a car accident for rest of his life.
Alas, the accident had been out of his control.
But he was here and he was safe and for now, he just needed to reassure his husband of that.
He cooed quiet reassurances against the crown of Hizashi’s head as the gut-wrenching sobs eventually tapered off into quiet, shuddering gasps.
His hospital gown was a mess of tears and snot, Hizashi sitting up and looking down at Shouta with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. He pulled his glasses off and pressed his fingertips into his eyes as he groaned and sniffled.
Shouta traced his jawline gently before pulling him down and aiming for a chaste kiss.
Hizashi resisted vehemently, his voice hoarse and croaky from his crying, “Shou, d-don’t I- oh god, ‘m so gross-“
Shouta ignored him completely and kissed his salty lips anyways, reveling in the feeling.
This was all he’d wanted when he’d been sitting in the teacher’s lounge grading papers.
Just this.
After a moment of hesitation, Hizashi kissed back almost shyly as he rested his glasses on the bed.
They pulled apart only to press their noses together and look at each other for moment.
“I’m okay.” Shouta said again and this time Hizashi’s lips quirked into a soft, relieved smile.
Hizashi’s fingertips ghosted over the bandage that was under Shouta’s right eye and Shouta tried to ignore the thought that the way the blonde’s eyelashes were clumped together from his tears looked strangely pretty, almost like he was wearing mascara.
“Doc said that one will scar pretty badly.” Shouta muttered softly, afraid to break the peaceful quiet that had settled between them.
Instead of upsetting Hizashi further though, the other simply stared for a moment before winking even though his smile didn’t fully reach his lips, “Mm, I like a man with marks on him. It’s kinda sexy.”
Relief flooded Shouta’s chest at the weak attempt at a joke and he let go of the breath he’d been holding, smiling softly at his husband as Hizashi wiped his cheeks sheepishly.
When Present Mic didn’t post his weekly episode that week his listeners were extremely concerned.
But Hizashi had posted to the Instagram and Twitter page with reassurances that next week’s episode would be on schedule.
‘Taking some much needed personal time off, listeners. Thank you for understanding. Next week #onthemic will resume regular release.’ The caption stated.
The picture was taken from their bed, showing only Shouta’s feet peeking out from the bottom of their white comforter and Jellybean curled up on the back of his thighs. Hizashi’s hand, outstretched and scratching under the contented cat’s chin, was also visible.
Shouta didn’t get to hear his coworkers’ reaction to that image, but he didn’t really care to either.
Notes:
Here's my cheeky way of giving Shouta his cheek scar *shrugs* idk, it was the only drama I could think to add!
Chapter 6
Notes:
The end is nigh! How will the UA staff find out that Shouta is actually married to Present Mic?!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Shouta felt obligated to point out that he did in fact make sure that his husband was at this year’s cultural festival.
And that he did in fact try to introduce him to the staff before the festivities started.
It just got out of hand.
He and Hizashi had decided that Present Mic could announce that he was an alum of UA and participate in the school festival by holding a fundraiser in the form of a short, ticketed Q&A for festival attendees.
Hizashi was excited that the event would be beneficial to the school and was an opportunity to interact with more fans, which he always loved.
So they’d arrived on campus early that Saturday morning, Shouta not even needing to guide his husband around since the school grounds hadn’t changed much over the years.
Shouta had his hair pulled into a half-bun and was wearing his usual black slacks and plain grey button down, where Hizashi had opted for an outfit with a bit more ‘pizzazz’ as he’d called it.
His golden blonde hair was down, brushed neatly and tamed with product that made it look soft and shiny. He wore a pair of tight grey slacks, a stylish burgundy button down, and a pair of heavy black boots to match the black leather jacket he’d thrown on that hugged his shoulders seductively.
Shouta watched him with unabashed appreciation, feeling a strange flutter of excitement in his chest at the idea of introducing this man as his husband.
”Is our tree still here?” Hizashi asked eagerly as he bounced on the balls of his feet and turned to Shouta.
The dark haired man didn’t pause as he looked through the crowd of students prepping for the festival searching for Nemuri, who was supposed to guide them to the staff area once they’d arrived, “Our tree?”
”Yeah the tree we had lunch under when we ate outside and sometimes when you napped under it you’d put your head in my lap! That was our tree!” Hizashi exclaimed in mock offense.
”We didn’t carve our initials into it or anything.” Shouta answered, finally catching sight of their friend and tugging the edge of the blonde’s shirt to get him to follow.
”Ugh, you’re right... We should do that today!” Hizashi grinned at him cheekily.
“Absolutely not.” Shouta droned as they caught up with their friend and he tapped Nemuri on the shoulder to get her attention.
”Absolutely not what?” She asked as she turned around.
Hizashi opened his mouth, but Shouta beat him to it, “Hizashi wants to vandalize school property.”
Nemuri let out a faux scandalized gasp as Hizashi let out an indignant squawk, “Present Mic! Whatever would Principal Nezu say if he knew you were planning on disrespecting this flawless campus?!”
”Not vandalize!” Hizashi protested as he laughed at Nemuri’s tone, “Just... leave a mark that would be a forever lasting commemoration of our love for one another.”
He batted his eyelashes at his husband coyly.
Shouta fixed him with an unimpressed look, “We are legally married to one another, you took my last name, and we just bought a house together. You don’t need to stab a tree trunk to commemorate our love.”
Hizashi slipped past Shouta to slip an arm around Nemuri’s shoulders as he stuck his tongue out at the other man, “Party pooper.”
”You knew that before you married me.” Shouta responded easily as he shoved the two of them forward toward the staff only tent.
Nemuri entered first, saying that she wanted to see the reactions of their colleagues when they realized who this year’s special guest was, with Hizashi and Shouta following after.
As soon as they ducked through the entrance the chattering inside tapered off as the teachers already inside of the tent noticed who had entered.
Shouta cleared his throat, subtly placed a hand on Hizashi’s lower back and gestured to the blonde, “Everyone, this is-“
”PRESENT MIC?!” Fukukado cut him off from his introduction as she bounced forward, eyes sparkling with excitement.
Hizashi gave her a friendly smile, the tension in the room breaking as a few of the other teachers stepped forward behind the teal-haired woman who was smiling excitedly, “You’re this year’s special guest for the festival?!”
Normally Shouta didn’t mind Fukukado, actually kind of liked her in an annoying little sister way.
But right now the heart eyes she was making at his husband made him want to pull her orange bandana over her eyes and drape himself over the blonde’s neck like a possessive sloth.
He shook the thoughts from his head and blanched as he let his hand fall back to his side. Hizashi shot him a quick apologetic look before he was roped into the chaos of the UA teachers excitedly introducing themselves and talking over each other to ask him questions.
“Green isn’t a good color on you.” Nemuri murmured from over his shoulder, giggling when he jumped at how close she’d gotten without him noticing.
”I didn’t think you were at the age of needing to get your eyes checked, but I’m wearing grey.” Shouta answered as he gave her a bored look, only to flinch when she flicked him in the forehead with one perfectly manicured nail.
”Don’t give me an attitude, dweeb,” She said, turning her gaze back to Hizashi who looked all too comfortable being the center of attention, “Green is the color of envy. And I think a certain someone was hoping to be the center of their husband’s attention today.”
She had sniffed out the truth, and she knew it, too good as reading the subtle shifts in Shouta’s expressions after years of friendship.
He grunted, “It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it. He’s here as Present Mic. This is... work.”
”True,” Nemuri said, “But you wanted them to be excited about meeting Aizawa Hizashi, not Present Mic.”
He felt himself deflate slightly before he gave a defeated hum that was as close to an agreement as she was going to get out of him.
”I just need people to stop treating him like he’s a Calvin Klein model who gave mankind fire.” Shouta said, partially intending for it to be a joke, but it came out sounding embarrassingly pouty.
From the middle of the group, Hizashi was begging away from the attention. He side-stepped away from questions with his trademark Present Mic smile, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, “Ah, I’m sorry to leave you all so early, but I need to prep for the show!”
He nearly ran into Shouta as he backed away, comfortably pressing their sides together as his fingers snuck out to tap against Shouta’s side.
Shouta took the cue with ease and led them out of the tent without bothering to say goodbye to his colleagues while Hizashi smiled politely and thanked them until they were well out of sight.
Nemuri followed them out of the tent entrance and waved her hand to get their attention, “If I don’t see you backstage at least 15 minutes before the Q&A, I’m going to have to come find you two!”
Shouta didn’t even bother turning back as Hizashi shot her a double thumbs up and a reassuring grin.
They got a few yards away before Hizashi huffed out soft laugh, “I can see why you like them!”
”They’re intense.” Shouta answered as he nudged the other man’s shoulder to guide him into one of the side entrances to the main building.
“You’ve always liked the ones that dominate conversations. It means less work for you.” Hizashi shot his husband a knowing grin.
”Is that what you’ve been telling yourself all these years?” Shouta joked dryly, barely hastening his step and catching the stairway door to hold it open for the blonde.
Hizashi raised an eyebrow, “That’s what I’ve known all these years.”
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, the concrete walls creating a barrier of silence around them for a brief moment, “I know you better than you’d like to admit, Aizawa Shouta.”
He winked and hopped up the stairs, swaying his hips teasingly as he let the conversation taper off.
Shouta stood at the first step for a second too long, his eyebrows arched as he watched the other man shoot him another glance over his shoulder.
”Well, there’s something we agree on...” He muttered before pushing himself into motion and following after the blonde.
As the festival got started outside, the booming sound of music and the crowd drifting in through the hallway windows, the two men wandered the hallways quietly.
Occasionally one or the other would reminisce softly about their own high school days, pointing out things that hadn’t changed or constants that they were surprised to still be around.
After a while Hizashi pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, spinning in the middle of the hallway to face his dark-haired husband, “Sooooo are you gonna show me your classroom?”
”Why would you wanna see that?” Shouta asked, shuffling his feet and shoving his hands into his pockets.
Hizashi watched him for a long moment before he tilted his head to the side, long blonde hair spilling over his shoulder, “Because you worked hard to get a job teaching at UA. I see how much time you put into your students and their growth. I’m proud of you and you should be proud too. So I want you to show off for once!”
They held each other’s gaze comfortably, Hizashi’s effervescent green eyes sparkling with determination and Shouta’s own stormy grey orbs swimming with hesitation.
”Besides, you’ve seen where I work so it’s only fair.” Hizashi placed his hands on his hips huffily.
Shouta shifted on his feet, “You work in our home office.”
Hizashi raised his eyebrows expectantly and shrugged in a ‘when life gives you lemons’ manner.
Finally Shouta sighed, “Fine. It’s on this floor and it’s on the way out anyways.”
”Aw yeah!” Hizashi exclaimed in excited English as he fist pumped and snatched Shouta’s hand.
The dark haired man led him down the hallway and paused outside of his classroom, squeezing the blonde’s hand softly, “Thank you... for...”
He shot a glance sideways and was met with a bright smile. Hizashi’s eyes sparkled, “I know. You’re welcome.”
Shouta took a short breath and swept the door to his classroom open, torn between watching his husband’s face for a reaction and wanting to look anywhere else.
“So this is where the magic happens!” Hizashi gestured enthusiastically to Shouta’s classroom with an eager grin.
“Please don’t refer to my teaching as ‘magic’, that makes it sound way easier than it actually is.” Shouta answered.
He smiled as he watched his husband take a few steps and twirl to take in the entire room.
“Hmm,” Hizashi pouted and tapped his fingers on Shouta’s large wooden desk at the front of the room, “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you... Sensei.”
His tone was entirely too coy as he ducked his head and peered at the dark haired man through his lashes, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh no you don’t,” Shouta wagged a finger at him and scowled, “No way, do not start with me right now.”
Hizashi practically giggled as he hopped up to sit on the desk, swinging his feet innocently, “Aw, you’re no fun, Sensei!”
Shouta paused for a moment, listening to the dead silent hallways and the hustle and bustle of the festival outside of the windows.
“That’s Aizawa-Sensei to you.” He joked as he gave in to the teasing and began walking toward the desk with a challenging eyebrow raised, “Are you trying to be disrespectful?”
“Of course not, Aizawa-Sensei,” Hizashi repeated in a sing song voice, drawing out the title as he wriggled his hips on the desk, “I wouldn’t risk detention.”
The words were barely above a whisper as Hizashi fluttered his lashes and pulled his lower lip into his mouth between his teeth.
Shouta huffed; unfair tactics.
“And what should I call you then, hm? Got a name other than Present Mic?” Shouta asked as he reached out to tug at the name tag that was clipped over the left side of Hizashi’s breastbone.
“Mmm, just Mic is fine by me, Sensei,” Hizashi teased as Shouta grew close enough for the blonde to pull him in by his tie.
The way the blonde dragged out his title was making his clothes feel hot and uncomfortable, Hizashi’s long fingers tracing over his chest teasingly before ghosting over his exposed collarbone at the neckline of his shirt.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Shouta warned, his breath ghosting over his husband’s lips as mischievous jade green eyes winked at him and he tried to imagine how he’d ever be able to look at this desk the same way again.
Hizashi squeezed his knees on either side of Shouta’s hips and let his fingers tangle into the loose strands of dark hair at the nape of Shouta’s neck.
The blonde’s lips spread into a lavish grin, “Well, if you keep it down no one has to find out, gorgeous.”
Their lips brushed together in the tease of a kiss, breath mingling as Shouta finally pressed flush against his husband and let the world around them bleed away in a way that it only did when he was in Hizashi’s embrace.
Their lips met, finally, and they both moaned softly as they melted into the kiss; exchanging soft nips as their hands began to wander.
Hizashi gave a quiet whine into his mouth that sent a spark of lust through Shouta so fast that his hips twitched involuntarily.
A little make out session wouldn’t hurt anything, Shouta reasoned, and they’d be back in time for-
“Aizawa, I can’t believe you!”
They both nearly jumped out of their skins when the classroom door slammed open with enough force to shake the walls around them to reveal an infuriated Fukukado.
Behind her was an equally angry looking Toshinori.
“How dare you! How dare either of you! You’re fooling around in a high school classroom?!” Fukukado exploded as she marched over to the two men and jabbed her finger at their faces.
Toshinori was fixing Shouta with a look that could only be described as astonished disappointment and the dark haired man took a placating step back from the desk to separate his and Hizashi’s bodies.
“I-I’m sorry, it was my idea! We weren’t going to actually-“ Hizashi was in full damage control mode, his hands raised innocently as he began to stutter out an explanation, but Shouta’s colleagues didn’t let him get that far.
“You adore your husband, Present Mic-San, how could you do something like this behind his back?!” Fukukado fumed as she waved her hands.
That stopped Hizashi in his tracks and his eye twitched as he went from looking panicked to looking vaguely confused.
Fukukado then turned on Shouta and frowned at him, “And you were supposed to introduce your husband to us today, Aizawa! Is he here, at the festival? While you’re getting handsy with some podcast celebrity in your classroom?!”
Understanding was beginning dawn on Shouta and he could tell that it was getting to Hizashi too as the blonde suddenly made a small noise in the back of his throat and placed his hands in his lap.
To an outsider, who didn’t know that the man known as Present Mic was Shouta’s husband, their little role play banter had sounded an awful lot like two strangers...
... about to hook up...
... in secret.
Shouta felt his cheeks go aflame as he realized that also meant that his two colleagues had just heard him and Hizashi teasing each other.
“They don’t know?” Hizashi asked as he turned an accusatory gaze to Shouta who stared back at him evenly.
“They were fawning over you!” He said defensively, “There was no easy way to just slip it into conversation. That’s why I was going to do it today.”
“What are you two talking about?” Toshinori asked as he looked between the two and watched Hizashi give the dark haired man an incredulous look.
“Hey, I didn’t find Shouta in the teacher’s lounge so I thought-“ Nemuri emerged from the hallway and paused at the scene before her, “Oh! You found both of them!”
“Damn right we did!” Fukukado whirled on the other woman and pointed at Shouta, “We found them about to cheat on their spouses!”
Hizashi gave Nemuri a pointed look while Shouta avoided her gaze and mentally tried to prepare himself for the endless teasing he was soon to receive.
Nemuri was going to have way too much fun telling this story to Tensei, Shouta could already feel it.
“Uhm, what?” Nemuri’s hands fell to her hips as she let her gaze wander over them.
“Look, this is a misunderstanding-“ Shouta tried to start explaining, only to be cut off by the teal-haired woman again.
“Oh no you don’t! We heard you!” She pointed between herself and Toshinori before pitching her voice lower to mimic Shouta’s low tone, “You were calling him ‘Mic’ and saying shit like ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’.”
“And then he,” She turned her point toward Hizashi who was beginning to look vaguely amused at this point as she mimicked his voice by trying to make her voice sound smooth and seductive, “He said ‘if you keep it down, no one has to find out’!”
Nemuri was now full on laughing out loud as Hizashi blushed sheepishly.
He turned his gaze to Shouta, “I don’t really sound that lame, right?”
“We are not talking about this right now.” Shouta answered as he secretly wondered what it would be like for a hole to swallow him into the floor.
“Oh. My. God.” Nemuri said finally as her lips split into a shit-eating grin, “Oh my god, only the two of you- seriously, only the two of you could find yourselves in this situation.”
“Please just kill me.” Shouta groaned as he reached up to tug at his loose strands of hair and willed away the blush on his cheeks.
“Is there something we’re not getting?” Toshinori asked as he looked to Nemuri who was giggling maniacally to herself.
She sauntered past him and Fukukado, coming to stand between the two groups as she gestured to Hizashi “This is Present Mic, the host of the popular podcast On the Mic.”
“Kayama, we were already introduced earlier when he arrived.” Toshinori was beginning to sound exasperated as he and Fukukado watched the three of them intently.
Nemuri held up a finger to stave off any other interruptions, “His real name is Aizawa Hizashi, we’ve been friends since high school when we attended UA together, and he’s been married to this bumbling idiot,” She jerked her thumb at Shouta, “for two years now.”
The two other teachers were silent as their jaws dropped.
“You’re Kitten?!” Toshinori practically screeched with an affronted look as though someone had just told him that water was not, in fact, wet, “N-no way-“
”You would maul someone before letting them nickname you ‘kitten’!” Fukukado said, her tone incredulous.
”Oh, he was resistant in the beginning.” Hizashi chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair, “But even Shouta can be worn down.”
”There’s a difference between being worn down over time like waves on the beach and being completely overtaken by a tsunami.” Shouta rolled his eyes and shot his husband a reproachful look.
Hizashi let out a dramatic gasp and clutched his chest as though he’d been given a fantastic compliment, “Babe, are you calling me a force of nature?”
”I think he’s calling you a mechanism of mass destruction.” Nemuri grinned as Hizashi let out an indignant noise and Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Wait, wait,” Fukukado's eyes were glittering with a delight that was making Shouta uncomfortable, “So what we heard was you two role-playing?!”
She burst into a fit of laughter that Nemuri joined in on, the two women cackling with glee as Toshinori began to look vaguely embarrassed.
Shouta groaned and gave up on trying to look uncaring, instead burying his face into both of his hands and ignoring the heat of the blush on his cheeks.
He felt a familiar pair of slim arms snake around his waist and he instinctively pressed back against the solid chest behind him, “Put me out of my misery.”
“No can do, love.” Hizashi mumbled against his hair as he pressed a kiss there and chuckled softly, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“S’not your fault,” Shouta cut him off as he let his hands slide away from his face only to cross them over his chest, “And I don’t regret it.”
The last part was mumble-whispered, for Hizashi’s ears only, and the blonde grinned wickedly, “Oh, you are killin’ me, Shou~”
“This is so crazy!” They were torn from their private moment to find Shouta’s colleagues watching them and Shouta resisted the urge to kick them out of his classroom.
Fukukado was, of course, the one who had spoken again, “I mean, you gotta admit, it’s a bit of a mind-fuck...”
She gestured to their embrace, to Hizashi’s bright grin and Shouta’s threatening scowl.
He supposed it would be an oxymoron to see the two of them together.
Where Hizashi was loud and social, Shouta was quiet and withdrawn.
Where Hizashi was confident and carefree, Shouta was hesitant and calculating.
Where Hizashi was friendly and optimistic, Shouta was stand-offish and cynical.
Shouta could never explain it, even after all these years.
But they just... fit.
”I stopped trying to figure out how they work so well together years ago,” Nemuri said with a shrug, but her eyes sparkled with fondness as she looked at her two friends.
“So you two have been together since high school?” Toshinori tilted his head at them, his eyes warm.
“Yep!” Hizashi exclaimed in enthusiastic English as he raised his left hand to show off his ring, “And now he can’t get rid of me!”
Shouta grunted as he watched his husband’s exuberant gestures out of the corner of his eye.
”Not to change the subject,” Nemuri glanced at her watch, “But Present Mic’s panel starts in 10 minutes.”
Hizashi let out a nearly ear-splitting squeak as he dipped away from Shouta, tumbling in his attempt to rush out the classroom door as he mumbled quiet curses.
The others watched him go, laughing softly and before they moved to follow him Fukukado turned, “So, we should all get drinks after the festival is over. And celebrate getting to know Aizawa’s husband! How’s that sound?”
Shouta would deny the warmth that flooded his chest at the words ‘Aizawa’s husband’ until the day he died.
But he let his lips twitch into a small smile and nodded faintly, “That sounds good.”
Notes:
DID YOU LOVE IT?! Srsly, did you love it? I'm gonna be writing more erasermic in the future, I can feel it. These two are just too fun to write about.
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