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The downpour outside was nice, Hizashi thought, as he watched it from the comfort of a warm classroom. It was the perfect backdrop to daydream to, just loud enough to drown out the teacher’s voice as he droned on and on about costume regulations. The perfect volume too to put Shouta right to sleep it seemed, as Hizashi glanced at him slumped over his desk, face nestled in his crossed arms as a makeshift pillow. It really was both a blessing and a curse that he was practically a narcoleptic– it made it difficult to hang out with him when all Shouta wanted to do in his time off was nap, but it also frequently provided Hizashi the opportunity to look at him without the fear of getting caught.
Shouta Aizawa, his classmate, best friend, and long-time holder of Hizashi’s heart was deceptively brusk when he was awake. His face, usually surly and hardened to dissuade would-be botherers from engaging in small talk with him, softened when he slept. The tension he seemed to carry with him in the day always eased when his tired eyes finally slid shut, usually around seventh period. Hizashi loved to watch him as he slept. He looked so content. The features he could admire for only brief moments through furtive glances when Shouta was awake were suddenly free for him to drink in for as long as he wanted. Or as long as his friend stayed asleep.
Hizashi’s gaze roved over Shouta’s face, trying to memorize every detail. The curve of his nose. His dark brows. The cascade of thick, messy black hair he had always longed to touch falling into his face. His gaze wandered down to Shouta’s cupid’s bow. It lingered on his lips, slightly parted in sleep. Hizashi guiltily tore his eyes away and returned to staring out the window. ‘Too good for daydreaming, apparently’ he thought.
Hizashi often mused whether he would ever take the leap to turn his daydreams into reality. Unfortunately, he always concluded that he just didn’t have the guts to tell Shouta how he felt about him. Shouta didn’t even know he was gay– it felt almost like a betrayal to keep such a big secret from his best friend, but Hizashi hated to admit to himself that he was afraid of what Aizawa might say or do if he found out. As much as he fantasized about what it might be like to hold Shouta’s hand or find out if his lips were really as soft as they looked, none of it would be worth the risk of losing their friendship. Hizashi bit his lip to imagine a world where Shouta didn’t speak to him. He would prefer to keep daydreaming forever than to chance Aizawa ignoring him.
The rain outside continued to fall in torrents as the lesson came to an end, along with the school day. Neither the bell nor the scraping of chairs and desks as their classmates packed and left was enough to rouse Shouta from his slumber. Hizashi laid a hand on the sleeping boy’s shoulder and shook him gently.
“Sho… Hey, Shouta! Class is over, it’s time to wake up”
“Hrrng?” Shouta mumbled as he raised his head off his arms without opening his eyes.
“Forget ‘Eraserhead’” Hizashi laughed. “Your name when you go pro should be ‘Sleepyhead’ instead. Come on, class just ended. You can sleep at home if you really want to”
After several more minutes of patient encouragement, the pair finally made their way to the shoe lockers. Aizawa gave his friend a sideways glance, watching as he slipped his school shoes off and replaced them with a pair of battered sneakers. Why was it so difficult to tell Hizashi when he was grateful for all the little things he did for him? Maybe he was afraid the words might reveal too much.
When they first met, Shouta had limited how much he spoke to his loud classmate in hopes that it might deter him from trying so damn hard to be his friend. It hadn’t worked. Slowly but surely, Hizashi Yamada had determinedly worked himself into a hole in Shouta’s heart like a stopper in a bottle, and brought his loud mouth, bad jokes, and obnoxious music with him. It had taken the blonde idiot being absent from school with the flu for a week for Shouta to realize just how much he missed having him around, how quiet it was without him. From there, rationality deteriorated. He went from missing Hizashi when he was gone to looking forward to seeing him, to anticipating his stupid jokes, to going to the arcade with him after school. To everyone watching, ‘ and’ he assumed ‘ to Hizashi’ , it became best-friendship; and to Aizawa’s terror, for him, it became more. The desire to reach for his hand as they walked down the hallway with Nemuri and Oboro bubbled up at the most inopportune times. The red tinge of heat that crept into his cheeks whenever Hizashi said his name was ridiculous and confusing and embarrassing. The insane urge to kiss him that struck Shouta whenever they sparred was almost overwhelming, and had cost him several matches.
It had all gone much much further than he had ever planned to let it, and that, he concluded, was why it was now so difficult to open up and say what he meant more often. Shouta was afraid of what he might accidentally admit if he wasn’t careful. ‘ But isn’t it normal to thank your friends? ’ he wondered to himself. ‘He should know I appreciate him. I’m lucky he wakes me up instead of leaving me to sleep at school ’ he opened his mouth to speak.
“Hiz-”
“DAMMIT!” Hizashi shouted, cutting him off.
“What’s up?” Aizawa ventured, half relieved for the excuse not to finish his thought.
“I can’t find my umbrella… I must have forgotten it at home.” Hizashi pressed his palm to his forehead. “How could I be so dumb? It’s pouring buckets out there!” He turned to look through the glass doors. The rain, if anything, had begun to fall harder. Gentle bellows of thunder rumbled in the distance. “Is there any chance you brought one?” Shouta frowned as he rummaged through his locker.
“No dice.”
“Dammit…” Hizashi repeated, glancing worriedly outside again. “I put my hair up today– the rain will wash it all out.” Indeed, the bright blonde mane was coiffed straight up, increasing his height by about half a foot.
“It might not be a bad look” Shouta replied. “Let’s just go.. It’s not getting any drier out there. Come on, we’re friends with Oboro- if anyone can handle a little rain, it’s us.” Seeing no better options, Hizashi did not argue. The pair gathered their things and made their way to the front doors.
“Well… Here goes-”
Within ten paces from the school, they were drenched. The rain was surprisingly cold for a downpour in early summer. Hizashi’s teeth began to chatter as they set off down the path. The droplets, as he had feared, did indeed deflate the style he had so meticulously crafted that morning. The storm served as an unwanted shower, washing out the half tub of gel that glued his look in place.
Hizashi squinted, trying to keep the product from running into his eyes. His blonde tresses now hung limp around his face. It was getting very difficult to see as they pressed onwards, between the chemicals trying to make their way into his corneas and the water splattered on his glasses. With a sigh, Hizashi removed them and hung them off the collar of his uniform. He pushed his hair back in a sort of slicking motion, trying to keep it from blocking his vision.
Shouta searched his chest for breath as tried not to watch the transformation. As much as he would never admit it to him, he really did like his best friend’s look. It was ridiculous, yes, and over the top certainly, but then, so was Hizashi. And he had come to love that about him.
Still, it was a rare treat to see him in his natural state, free from all the things he did for show or fashion layered on top. Without his glasses, Shouta could see the unfiltered green of the eyes that lived behind them. Droplets of rain clung to his thick lashes, clumping them together. His cheeks were flushed pink with cold and the effort of walking fast enough to keep himself warm. He looked… Shouta searched for the right word. Beautiful . Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if the goosebumps up his arms were actually from the chill of his wet uniform.
Shouta watched Hizashi rake his fingers through wet hair for a second time, pushing it from his face. He struggled not to wonder if this was what he looked like fresh from the shower. ‘ Probably warmer than this ’ he mused.
Only as his mind wandered to the thought of warm showers did Shouta realize how cold he really was. The shivers that had begun almost as soon as they left the safety of the school became violent. Hizashi glanced over at him and very suddenly stopped walking. Something changed behind his eyes as he looked him over. Shouta couldn’t place the expression.
“You ok, Sho?” he said with concern.
“I’m fi-ne.” his teeth ground through his reply. He hadn’t realized his jaw was gritted shut, as if holding it closed would keep out the chill setting into his joints. “Just cold.”
He sure looked it, Hizashi thought as he scanned his face. He tried to push away thoughts about what a pity it was that Shouta had to look quite so cute while he was miserable. A little frown tugged at the corner of his lips. His dark lashes were beaded with the water they were meant to keep out, but the downpour was so heavy that it kept leaking into his eyes, making him blink. The dampness saturating it formed his inky hair into loose waves. Little curls clung to his forehead and neck as baby hairs returned to their natural shape. Hizashi wondered if perhaps Aizawa had wavy hair, and just never bothered to style it. He took a step closer.
There was so much he had always wanted to know about Aizawa. Something about the way he looked in the deluge made him want to ask, to find out– If his hair was secretly curly. What his type was. How he felt about dramatic kisses in the rain. He wrestled with the insane urge to ask them all at once. “What’s your favorite warm drink?” he inquired instead, surprising himself. Shouta blinked up at him.
“Huh?”
“Your favorite hot drink– I’ll make it for you at my house. We’ll just go there, it's closer and I don’t want to send you home alone in weather like this.” he said, making it up on the fly.
“Are you s-sure?” Shouta asked, continuing to shiver. “I don’t want to impose”
“What?! At this point, you have to know you could never! My mom loves you! You’re always welcome at our house.” Hizashi slung his bag off his shoulders and rummaged around inside it. After a moment, he pulled out his prized possession– a leather jacket he had received for his most recent birthday. Shouta found it endearing that, despite not being permitted to wear it with his uniform, Hizashi still brought it with him to wear the moment the final bell rang. It meant everything to him.
He was shocked, therefore, when without a moment of hesitation, Hizashi threw the jacket over his head. The persistent dripping that had become a monotonous background sensation stopped suddenly. It was warmer by half a degree.
“What are you doing!?” He exclaimed. “The rain will ruin it!” Hizashi adjusted it to cover more of his head, waving his hand dismissively.
“Don’t worry about it– gotta keep you dry.” He gave Shouta a smile that made him feel as though the sun had suddenly emerged. “Come on! Faster we get there, faster we’ll warm up— lets run!”
Hizashi took off, spraying water as his feet splashed in the puddles on the sidewalk. Shouta scrambled to chase after him, clutching the jacket to his head.
They ran hard through the residential neighborhoods on the outskirts of Musutafu, cutting through backyards and side streets. When they finally arrived at the Yamada residence, both boys were breathing hard as they stumbled into the garage.
It was a relief to have refuge from a sky that was trying to drown them. When not being actively drenched in it, the rain was sort of peaceful. The pair turned to watch it as they stood, gasping for breath. As long minutes passed without an exchange of words, their breathing became less labored.
Shouta was acutely aware of how close Hizashi stood to him as they watched the sky weep, and leaned infinitesimally nearer to him, quietly seeking the warmth of his body. To his amazement, Hizashi did the same. It was an unfocused movement, unintentional, probably. They stood shoulder to shoulder, pressed gently against one another. Shouta closed his eyes, savoring the moment. And then it was over. Hizashi had seemed to realize all too soon what he was doing and jumped away, flustered. Shouta didn’t have time to feel sorry it had ended or consider the pink tinge that had crept into Hizashi’s cheeks before he was already hastening to the door.
“Crazy that we’re freezing and I somehow forgot about getting warm, haha, that rain is really mesmerizing huh?- anyways I have the key somewhere I’ll let you in don’t even worry about it it’s right here someplace” He rambled. Even though all Shouta could see of him was the back of his head, Hizashi’s exposed ears had turned a bright red.
He made his way to stand behind him as the blonde dumped the entire contents of his bag on the floor, watching him rummage through piles of soaked pages of homework, waterlogged Tamagotchis, tangled headphones, loose sticks of gum, and ruined notebooks in a desperate search for his keys.
“Gotta be in here…” he muttered fervently to himself.
Though the amount of junk was significant, it was spread out thinly enough over the cement floor that the metallic glint of keys would have been evident if they were there. Shouta laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Zashi. I don’t think they’re in there.” Hizashi slumped a little in defeat.
“I… I feel a little silly that I’m forgetting everything lately. An umbrella the one day it rains, and my keys on the one time I need to let you in so we can warm you up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Shouta said, bending down to help his friend collect the clutter. “Didn’t you say your mom was home? She could let us in–”
Hizashi brightened a little. “Yeah, we can give that a shot- she usually has the cooking channel on right now, but maybe if we’re loud, she’ll hear us.” He began pounding on the door. “Mom!” He called through it.
Shouta tried too, cupping his hands around his mouth as he shouted over the keyhole. “Ms.Yamada!!!” There was no reply. After a few seconds without a response, Hizashi smacked a hand to his forehead.
“God, I’m a fucking idiot. What good is a quirk if I don’t use it? Jesus.” Shouta barely had time to cover his ears as Hizashi drew in a deep breath, and screamed at the top of his voice “ MOOOOOOOOOOOM !” The walls of the garage shuddered, and the door rattled on its hinges.
As they had learned in fourth period the previous day, Hizashi’s quirk was capable of rupturing organs. Aizawa took a brief moment to be thankful that he and Hizashi were friends rather than enemies. Still, he’d appreciate more of a warning next time. Despite having covered his ears, a strange ringing still filled them as he moved his hands away.
This time, the call seemed to have worked. A light flicked on behind the door, and the duo could see a shadow approaching them beneath it. When the lock clicked open and the door swung inwards, a matronly-looking woman stepped out to greet them.
Her eyes, as vividly green as her son’s, took in the scene before her.
“Hizashi!!! Shouta?!?!” They must be a sorry sight indeed, judging by the look on her face. Like two waterlogged and bedraggled kittens that had been dumped on her porch.
Though his mother’s quirk was not voice related, Hizashi often joked that it should have something to do with talking, the way she scolded. Indeed, not a moment later, She started on him. “Hizashi you silly boy, how could you forget your raincoat, your umbrella?! For goodness sakes, the third musketeer in your little gang controls the weather and you can’t even bother to check it before you go to school?”
Hizashi scratched the back of his neck in shame. He knew she wasn’t really angry, he was more frustrated with himself than she could ever be about it– but he felt a little embarrassed to be chastised in front of Shouta. She was shaking her finger now.
“So foolish! I may as well have sent you in your swimsuit this morning the way you treat your uniform.” She took a deep breath through her nose. It seemed the lecture may be ending. “You poor cold dears had better come in and I’ll fix you something war-” her eyes fell on the leather jacket her son had used as a makeshift poncho for his friend, and her nostrils flared again. It had been she who squared away money for months to buy the garment, and she who presented it proudly to him on his 17th birthday. It was now soaked through.
“Hizashi Yamada!” she cried. “What on earth did you do to your jacket?!” His cheeks grew hot again.
“I’m sorry ma..” he said quietly. “Shouta was cold.” His eyes were as round as coins. He gazed pleadingly at her, willing her to understand. Comprehension seemed to wash over her, and her expression softened. She glanced over to the shivering boy-in-question, who was keeping politely silent.
“Well… I suppose.. Of course. Come in then, it doesn’t look like it helped much– seems a stiff breeze would take him out, the way you two look. Come in, come in!” Gratefully, they scurried in after her, shutting the door behind them.
“If you’re so concerned about Shouta being cold, go and get him a towel- I’ll bring you both something warm to drink up in a minute. You can grab the ones in the dryer.”
She gave him a knowing look. Hizashi mouthed a silent ‘ thank you ’ at his mother before dashing up the stairs. Shouta scuttled behind him, trying to keep from dripping all over the floor. Their shoes squeaked the entire way down the hall.
After a brief detour to the laundry, the boys made their way at long last into the warm, quiet sanctuary of Hizashi’s room. He closed the door and leaned against it, sighing theatrically in relief.
“Sorry about that…” he said awkwardly. “It’s her way of saying she cares about us… She is right– I should have checked the weather.”
“It’s ok.. She’s always really nice. I appreciate her letting us in. My dad would have locked me out if I showed up like this. Even if she was frustrated, it’s pretty obvious how much she loves you.”
Viridian eyes roved over Aizawa’s face. He didn’t know how right he was. With only a few words, his mother had gotten a clearer read on the situation than he realized.
Hizashi’s mother was the first person he had ever divulged his most closely guarded secret to. Countless nights spent talking on the couch with her son about his life, his friends, his crush– he had told Mrs.Yamada more than enough to understand exactly why Hizashi had been so careless with something so precious to him. It wasn’t carelessness at all. He just cared more about Shouta than he ever could about his jacket. And how could she chastise that?
Quietly, Hizashi was grateful that she had understood and let it go without another word. He felt extremely lucky to be so loved.
“Yeah…” he said, remembering the way she had hugged him the night he came out to her. “My mom is pretty great.” Shouta studied the wistful look, trying to read him.
After a moment, Hizashi realized he was dripping all over his rug, circular and shaped like a vinyl record. “Well… we’re not getting any warmer just standing here” he muttered.
Suddenly businesslike, He loosened his tie and unfastened the buttons of his grey uniform jacket, draping both over a hanger behind the door. In one swift motion, he reached down and pulled his shirt up and over his head.
Shouta blanched, then felt his face heat up as it filled with blood. He looked to be making a convincing impression of a beefsteak tomato. What was he doing ?! Shouta screamed mentally. Since when had the Yamada household become a strip club?
Hizashi’s head disappeared beneath an off-white towel, and he scrubbed vigorously. When he emerged again, his hair puffed out like a pomeranian in an electrical accident. He ran his hands through the mess, smoothing it down. Though still stringy in places, it was markedly drier than it had been two minutes before.
Shouta couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was incredible how quickly his face had changed from feeling the coldest he had ever been to uncomfortably warm. Hizashi looked up at him inquisitively.
“Oh! Shoot, you’re right, you need a towel–” he said, promptly misreading the look of shock on his face. He tossed Shouta a towel, which he caught deftly, and began to unbutton his pants. It looked like a difficult shimmy to peel off the soaked trousers.
Shouta didn’t think it was possible to turn a darker red than he already was, until he watched a pair of custom DJ Mic tighty-whities be revealed via strategic wiggling. Eventually, the bottoms moved past the thickest part of Hizashi’s admittedly scrawny legs and fell to the floor. He shook them off his ankles.
His whole body was lanky, though the hero course at UA had been working hard to put a thin layer of muscle on his bony frame. He had rather knobby knees. Hizashi was somehow both awkward, and graceful, and the most handsome boy Shouta had ever seen. He tried not to think about how much the custom “DJ Mic” underwear might have cost him.
“Zashi-” he tried, throat unexpectedly tight. “What— what are you doing?”
Hizashi tossed the damp trousers into the overflowing laundry hamper in the corner of his room.
“They’re soaking wet, Sho, and it’s freezing! Do you want a..change of… clothes…?” He trailed off as he looked back at Shouta, who hadn’t moved. He just stood there, a small puddle forming around his feet as he dripped onto the floor. He hadn’t even moved to dry his hair, still clutching the towel in a white fist. He looked painfully embarrassed. Hizashi wasn’t quite sure why. “Hey..What’s up..?” he said uncertainly. “Aren’t you chilly?”
Aizawa didn’t know what to say. Hizashi seemed so blasé about getting undressed in front of him. Was he really that unaware of how attractive he looked? Did he really not know what taking his things off was doing to him?
“I don’t-” he struggled to come up with words that might finish the sentence. “I don’t…look as good without my things on as you do.”
It took him a moment to realize how that sounded. He clapped a hand to his mouth. “I mean- I didn’t mean! I mean you do, but I- I’m not-” Hizashi interrupted him, his eyebrows furrowed seriously.
“Sho…why would it ever matter to me how you looked..?”
Hizashi looked at him with tender concern in his eyes. He seemed to have forgotten he was wearing only a pair of custom undies. He laid a hand hesitantly on Shouta’s shoulder– he didn’t think he was brave enough to bring it to his cheek. How could he think he wasn’t a sight to behold? How could he think that no matter how he looked under his uniform, his best friend in the world would mind?
Shouta bit his lip. He felt like an idiot for blurting out loud that he thought Yamada looked good. He knew he had been trying to be sweet, but it hurt a little all the same that it didn’t matter to Hizashi what he looked like, that he didn’t think about it. His heart gave a painful twinge.
There had been many nights where Aizawa lay awake, wondering about the body that might live under Hizashi’s day clothes, his uniform, his stupid ridiculous full leather hero costume. He had hoped his stomach scrunched up in cute rolls like this when he bent over or laughed. He hadn’t known about the freckle just below his belly button... Some small, hopeful part of him had always secretly wished that his friend was thinking about him in the same way.
“I guess– I guess it wouldn’t” he muttered. “Yeah, I’d like a change of clothes.”
“Sure I’ve got you” Hizashi said, a look of concern still etched on his face. He would let it go for now, Shouta seemed uncomfortable. He made a mental note to check in with him about it later.
He turned his back to Shouta, foraging through the closet for something warm and comfortable to wear. He found an enormous black t-shirt that was usually his sleepwear shoved to the far right of his closet. It read PARTY ROCKERS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT . Perfect. He turned around, ready to pridefully present his selection.
“Ok, here you g-HOLY SHIT!” Shouta was shirtless. Hizashi choked on his spit. He descended into a coughing fit, hands on his knees. The Party Rockers shirt lay forgotten on the ground.
“Are you ok?!” Aizawa asked nervously.
“Yeah! Yeah good I’m good it’s all good!” He said between coughs. Eventually, they subsided, and he was able to take in the view properly. Shouta was skinny, but strong. Hizashi knew that from the many times they had been paired against one another in training, but had never witnessed it visually firsthand like this. He was pale as a sheet of paper, and Hizashi wasn’t sure if that was simply how he looked, or if the cold had drained him of what little color was usually there.
“Sorry...” he said, under his breath. “I just- wasn’t expecting- wow.” His face felt hot. All feelings of regret about not having brought an umbrella faded into nothingness. He should forget an umbrella every day and beg Oboro to call up a storm if it meant he would get the chance to see Aizawa like this again.
Despite how hot he looked to Hizashi, it was evident that Shouta was still freezing. He trembled a little, and goosebumps crawled up his arms as he tucked them tight against his chest. The soaked fabric of his trousers clung chillingly to his legs, knees knocking together as he shook.
“You gotta take your pants off dude” Hizashi said once he felt recovered enough to speak. Instantly, he wished the power of speech would be permanently removed from him.
“I mean! You’re gonna catch your death of cold if you keep them on– come on, let me help, they’re tricky when they’re wet.”
He took a step closer to the shorter boy, and helped hold the waistband open as he began to step out. He blushed like a maniac, knowing he was making the situation and his choice of words more embarrassing with every move he made, somehow unable to stop. He crouched to help scrunch the bunched fabric past Shouta’s knees, and couldn’t help but grin when he came face to face with a pair of boxers that were absolutely covered in cats.
“Aww.. Sho” he teased. “I like your boxers.”
“Shut up , DJ Mic-” Shouta challenged hotly. He felt like he was going to pass out from the rush of blood to his head. He buried his face in his hands. His crush was making eye contact with a pictograph kitten sleeping on his crotch. How had he gotten himself into this?
Hizashi laughed softly. The sound sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t laugh at me!” he said, voice muffled by his palms over his mouth. “They’re the only thing I had that was clean!”
“I’m not laughing at you,” Hizashi said. Shouta was startled by how tender his voice sounded. “To be honest, I think it’s– well-” He half-whispered the last word under his breath. Aizawa didn’t think he could believe his ears– it sounded almost like he had said ‘cute’. But that couldn’t be right.
With a jingle of the belt buckle the pants finally came off, and Hizashi stood, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. They both stood nearly naked now, in equally stupid underwear. Neither could seem to make eye contact with the other. Instead, Hizashi took the towel Aizawa still clutched in his hands, and tentatively began to dry his hair for him.
Shouta couldn’t take it. It was an unbelievably tender gesture. He closed his eyes. “Thank you…” He could hear the smile in Hizashi’s voice as he replied.
“No problem”
It felt like the moment they had shared in the garage. Tentative. Gentle. Warm. Just as that comfortable space in the garage had, the moment ended, though less abruptly. The towel was removed from Shouta’s head, and he could see again. Hizashi tossed the towel into the hamper like a pro basketball player making a winning shot.
“Let me just put the rest of these wet things away, and I’ll get you something warm, ok?” he said as he squatted to the pile of soggy clothes at Shouta’s feet. Just as he lowered himself, there was a gentle knock at the door before it swung open.
Ms.Yamada was framed in the doorway, holding a tray with two steaming mugs on it. “Boys, I have your hot- HOLY SHIT! HIZASHI! YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME YOU WERE GOING TO– SORRY! SORRY TO INTERRUPT I’LL LEAVE THESE AT THE DOOR!”
Hizashi whipped his head around to see what she was shouting about as the door clicked hurriedly shut. For a moment, his mind was blank. Then, it dawned on him that his mother had walked in to find him in his underwear, crouched on his knees directly in front of an equally exposed Shouta.
“Oh my god” He stood up hurriedly, feeling as hot as if someone had rubbed ghost pepper all over his face.
“Holy fuck, oh my god” He buried his face in the bundle of wet clothes, which at least were cold against his flaming face. He turned and walked to the hamper, dumping the clothes in and then leaning his head against the wall.
“She thought– She thought we were—” He wanted to disappear. “Is there any chance your quirk works on memories???” he asked Aizawa. “Can you erase the last thirty seconds? Does it work on people? Can you erase me??? This is it, I can’t live another moment knowing my mom thinks she just walked in on us fucking. Not that– well–... FUCK that’s embarrassing”
Shouta had not said a word. The adrenaline that was pumping through him and usually pushed him towards either fight or flight had instead caused him to freeze. He thought briefly that they could probably replace the red circle on Japan’s flag with his face and it wouldn’t look different at all.
As waves of embarrassment washed over him, the idea flitted, half formed into his brain that he half wished they had been doing what Ms.Yamada thought she walked in on. It would be better than having the embarrassment without any positives- If he had to die of shame, at least it should be after head from Hizashi. Hurriedly, he flung the idea from his mind.
It had been an immodest late-night thought on the few occasions he had guiltily imagined it before. He usually pictured it happening after several months of chaste, romantic dating. He doubted he would ever get the chance to hold Hizashi’s hand, let alone kiss him- and all of that was a far cry from doing what Ms.Yamada had thought they were doing. ‘ Besides’ , he thought as he watched Hizashi cross to the door, his ears practically glowing red. ‘He’s clearly embarrassed about the idea.’
The blonde cracked the door open, and using the voice that had earned him admittance to the hero course at UA, shouted down the stairs. “ I SWEAR MOM, THAT WASN’T WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE! ”
After a moment of tense silence a reply that sounded as though perhaps it were coming from a closed door in the basement as far as possible from his room, his mother called back up at them. “Just be safe Honey!”
Hizashi groaned as he retreated back into the room, holding the tray. He set it on his desk, then crawled under his covers and shoved his head under the pillow.
“I can’t scream into my pillow or I’d literally kill you Shouta, but believe me, I want to” came his muffled voice from beneath the sheets.
“At this point, I’m so embarrassed I kind of want to die– scream away, go for it” He sat nervously on the edge of the bed next to the lump that was Hizashi, uncomfortably aware of how exposed his underwear cats were to the world. He hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak.
“I know we weren’t doing anything–I mean, we wouldn’t–but..your mom didn’t seem.. Uh.. surprised..?” He tried. “Or angry, or anything..? I mean she shouldn’t be, but– and we weren’t doing anything!!! But she didn’t seem shocked that you might… Be doing something… with another guy?” He didn’t think the question he was trying to ask was coming across clearly. And he definitely didn’t dare to hope.
Hizashi ruminated on his words for a moment. His cocoon had become rather warm as his body radiated the heat of humiliation. It had been such a conflicting day. He had forgotten his umbrella, nearly drowned in the rain and chill, and been chewed out by his mother in front of his best friend and crush. To top it all off, he had to live with the shame of his mother thinking she had walked in on him for the rest of his life.
On the other hand, he had gotten to spend more time than usual with Shouta. He had gotten a glimpse of his adorable cat underwear, which Hizashi knew he would make a point to tease him about for the rest of their lives. A mug of the best hot chocolate in the world was waiting on his desk. Was it a good day? The worst day ever? It was difficult to decide. And still, Aizawa sat just outside the covers, expecting a reply.
Shouta rubbed his goose-bumped thighs with his palms, trying to warm them as he sat waiting for an answer. He bit his lip, wondering if it would ever come. Should he have kept his mouth shut? What a stupid monologue that had been. Had it sounded too hopeful? Too eager? Whether or not Yamada was straight wasn’t any of his business, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.
Just as he had decided that he was probably being ignored, Hizashi slowly emerged from the covers. His cheeks were still flushed pink, and he looked tense.
“Um.. Well-” He started. “My parents are uh, cool with that sort of thing. My mom actually-” Unintentionally, he made eye contact with Shouta. He seemed to catch his gaze and hold it as he listened.
His expression was soft, patient. It was a different look than the one he usually wore when he fought, less blazing, but just as difficult to look away from. His eyes had more power over Hizashi than just to strip him of his quirk. He tried not to get lost, to drown in their dark depths as he continued. Something about them seemed to pull the truth from his lips.
“My mom actually knows I’m…..gay.” he gulped. Shouta didn’t say anything.
“And I-I didn’t mean for this to be– how I told you-. That I was, I mean.” Still, he did not reply. His expression was impossible to read.
“But..I am– and-...yeah. So–so that’s why–” It was hard to get his words out. His throat was so tight. He could feel his cheeks and ears burning. Why did he feel so afraid to admit it? Water stung the corners of his eyes, but the tears didn’t fall.
Across from him, Shouta’s mind felt temporarily blank. His heart was pounding so loudly, he was amazed Hizashi couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t believe it. He could not believe it. The boy he had crushed hopelessly on for years now actually had it within the realm of possibility to like him back– if he liked boys, there was a chance that maybe he could like Aizawa too. He couldn’t think of anything to say. The shock had wiped his mind of any and all words that he could use to respond.
“Oh” he said quietly. It was all he could get out. Mentality, he screamed at himself. ‘Oh?!’ He shrieked internally. ‘That’s all you can say?!’
Hizashi’s face fell. He felt so disheartened. It was terrifying not to know what Shouta was thinking behind those fathomless eyes. He had always been quiet, but usually had more to say when it came to the important things. And this was important; at least to Hizashi.
“I’m…sorry I had to tell you like that. I meant to announce it differently somehow.” If he had known Shouta would react like this, he might not have ever announced it all.
Aizawa seemed lost in reverie.
“No,” he said softly. “No, I’m glad you did.” Hizashi waited with bated breath, hoping he might say more, give some indication of what he was thinking. He didn’t say anything else. To Hizashi’s bitter disappointment, after a tense silence, the moment passed.
“Come on…” He said after several more seconds. “We look stupid sitting here in our underwear. Let’s get you some clothes.”
He crawled out of bed, half wishing to remain in the quiet sanctum of the covers. He paced to the fallen shirt he had picked out and handed it to Aizawa who still sat on the edge of the bed, gazing into space.
Hizashi made his way to the closet. How ironic that he wished he could climb back inside it and never have said anything. Would this be their last day as friends? Would Shouta tell people at school? He grabbed articles of clothing at random from their hangers, aimlessly hoping whatever he was throwing back at Shouta could serve as something warm and comfortable.
For himself, Hizashi selected a band t-shirt he liked to use as pajamas. He glanced at the logo printed on it. ‘SMASH MOUTH’ . He pulled it on. To cover up his personalized undergarments, Hizashi snatched a pair of basketball shorts from the floor of his closet. He didn’t even play basketball. Why did he own these? A bubbling sense of shame washed over him.
All at once, he felt like perhaps Aizawa was secretly judging every step he took. His stupid underwear, his stupid hair, his stupid messy closet, his stupid self for forgetting the umbrella. He felt so vulnerable. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He took a deep breath, preparing to face him again.
When he turned around, it felt like a vice had suddenly gripped his heart. Why did he have to choose now of all times to look as adorable as he possibly could?
Shouta had tugged on the clothes his friend had thrown at him. He was shorter than Hizashi by quite a bit, and all the clothes ran rather large on him. He had wormed his way into a massive hoodie and was struggling to roll up the sleeves as the hood mostly covered his eyes. Baggy sweatpants, cinched as tight as they could go around his waist, were still a little loose. One of the cats on his underwear peeked over the waistline.
Hizashi bit down hard on his lip, swearing to himself that he wouldn’t say a word about just how cute Shouta looked. He didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already seemed. Instead, he padded with as much confidence as he could muster over to where his friend stood struggling. Gently, he lifted the hood off his head and helped roll the sleeves up a few times with his free hands.
“There..” He said quietly. “Any better? You warming up?” He couldn’t bring himself to look Shouta in the eye again. He didn’t want to reveal anything by getting locked once more in such a captivating gaze. It was hard enough to be in the same room as a Shouta who was wearing his clothes and looking heart-wrenchingly sweet in them. Hard enough to be in a room with a Shouta who had seen him nearly naked, who he had made himself a fool in front of, to a Shouta who now knew his secret.
“Yeah, I’m getting there” Aizawa replied. At least he was no longer shaking.
“Here, the hot chocolate might help,” he said, still not looking at him as he crossed to the desk and picked up the mugs. They were the ones Ms.Yamada had hand-painted in a pottery class a few years back, and she had known they were Hizashi’s favorite ones to drink out of. Both mugs had sticky notes on them. The heat of the drinks had loosened the adhesive. He plucked off the note, and read it. “ I love you Shouta! ” The dot at the bottom of the exclamation point was drawn as a heart. Both notes were written in Ms.Yamada’s hand.
“This one’s for you-” he said, handing it over. Shouta accepted it gratefully with both hands, cupping them around the mug for warmth. He took a long sip, expression brightening as he did.
“This is really good! Your mom is the best.” Hizashi picked up his own mug, twisting it to read the note.
“ I love you Hizashi! ”
His eyes felt hot again. God , it was awful to be so close to the water.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, she really is”
He tried not to think about how he would probably go to her later that night, and seek the warmth of her arms like a little kid, telling her what had happened through tears.
She knew how much he liked Shouta, how much he meant to him. She knew how devastating it would be to him if things changed between them. He hoped she might have some good advice.
Hizashi gazed into his mug. It was loaded past the rim with marshmallows, whipped cream, and bright sprinkles. He knew the warm drink below was homemade. His mother was very handy, and great at making things. All Hizashi seemed to be good at was making mistakes.
It cheered him a bit to take a long sip from the cup. The drink seemed to defrost some of the bitter cold that had worked itself into Hizashi’s bones. It was sweet and rich and full of love. The sticky note had reminded him of that.
He glanced over at Shouta, who had remained silent save the enthusiastic slurping of his hot chocolate. He wished he would say something. It seemed he would have to bridge that gap himself.
“Hey, I could? Braid your hair if you want..? It’s still wet, but if we get it out of your face, it’ll keep you from staying cold-” He hoped it wasn’t a weird thing to offer, now that Aizawa knew the truth about him. He had always been comfortable with a brief friendly touch before— Hizashi didn’t want anything to change.
To his surprise, Shouta nodded, lifting the mug away from his lips. He had a whipped cream mustache.
“Sure, that’d be nice– thank you.” he said as he licked it away.
Hizashi sat tentatively behind him on the bed. Slowly, cautiously, he began to detangle the thick black hair with careful fingers. The rain pounding against the roof provided gentle ambient noise as they sat in unsure silence. It had also caused Shouta’s hair to form into some truly beautiful waves and curls.
Shouta closed his eyes, content as Hizashi’s warm fingers brushed against his scalp. It was incredible how comfortable he was. Cocooned in warmth wearing the clothes of the boy he liked, sipping the most delicious hot chocolate he had ever tasted as said boy messed gently with his hair.
Even better, that boy had also explicitly come out, removing the guesswork and meaning that maybe, some way, somehow, Shouta might have a chance with him.
He daydreamed about how he might ask Hizashi out sometime as his hair was gently tugged out of his face. It was just fanciful thinking, he didn’t want to jump the gun and ask him too soon for fear of overwhelming him. His stomach leaped. Or maybe Hizashi would ask him??? Aizawa took another sip of his drink, trying to banish his overeager imagination.
As his fingers worked deftly through the thick, shiny strands, Hizashi kept hoping the boy in front of him might say something. His nerves were all frayed. He couldn’t even enjoy getting to touch Shouta’s hair, which he had long dreamed of doing. It was so thick and shiny. He had wanted to run his fingers through it since he had first watched it defy gravity at the entrance exams.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Halfway through the braid, he stopped.
“Hey, Sho…?” he started nervously. Shouta was in the middle of a large sip of hot chocolate.
“Hmm?” Hizashi took a shaky breath.
“Are you..ok? With me being like this?” He paused. “I was nervous to tell you, I wasn’t sure– I wasn’t sure how you’d- well… I was afraid you might not like me anymore if you knew. And I’m scared of that right now. I know you’re usually quiet, but,” his voice caught. “you haven’t said much. And I’m nervous… I’m nervous to lose you”
Hizashi’s heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel it climbing into his throat, it felt too thick for any more words.
Aizawa sat up, the half-finished braid tumbling loose as he whipped around to face his friend. Hizashi had tears in his eyes and was trying desperately to blink them back.
“Zashi...? Hizashi!!!” he cried. “I would ne-Zashi, never— never ever turn you away for something like that!” He said with panic. He hadn’t realized his silence had caused him so much distress. He felt like an idiot.
“Don’t you know Nemuri is bi? She’s as queer as they come and I think she’s great! I’ve just– I’ve just been thinking, I didn’t mean to scare you by being quiet. I was just lost in thought. I’m so sorry Hizashi– I’m so so sorry.”
It was quiet for a moment. Then the silence popped like a bubble as Hizashi threw his arms around Shouta in a massive bear hug. The dam he had been trying to keep up inside himself broke, and he began to sob.
“You’re so important to me Shouta, I was so scared you were gonna walk out of my h-house today and never come back! And-and- and not talk to me at school?!” he said hysterically.
“Not be my friend? Change your hero name because a g-gay guy came up with it? You can’t do that Sho..” he sobbed. “You can’t do that- Eraserhead is the coolest name ever…” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. They had only just gotten dry from the rain, and already his face was drenched again.
Aizawa clutched him tightly to his chest, trying to convey as much comfort as he could through the embrace. His face was pressed against Hizashi’s neck, breathing in the faint smell of cologne that had been reactivated by the rain. He gave him a squeeze.
“Zashi… if I change my hero name, it’ll be because it’s a fucking stupid name. It sounds like I deep throat #2 pencils professionally.” Hizashi gave a weak laugh through the tears, letting himself be held.
“But something that I’ll never ever ever change is that you’re important to me and that I care about you” He pressed his face harder into his neck, as if he could physically squeeze love and belief into his friend.
Hizashi’s skin was warm against his face. The blonde only cried harder. Shouta hoped it was happy tears, or tears of relief- it broke his heart to have sent such a sunshiny person into such a miserable state. He was such an idiot.
“And you and I will be friends for as long as you still want to be friends. I hope we stay close forever.”
Hizashi pulled away to look at him. Aizawa had no idea that he didn’t want to be friends. He wanted so much more. Though he was no longer sobbing, he still had rivers flowing from his eyes. He searched Shouta’s face.
“You really mean it?” He had never seen him look so tender. “Of course I do” he replied softly. “Without a doubt. I’m so sorry I scared you. I was just thinking.”
Hizashi sniffled.
“If you know that I like guys and have opinions about how they look, you can know I think you’re a stupid stinking idiot for being nervous to have your shirt off.” he gave another hearty sniff.
“You look really nice– objectively” he hastily amended. Hizashi wiped his eyes with a sleeve. “I just had to get that off my chest” he quickly continued.
Aizawa’s heart thrummed. The corners of his mouth lifted into a knowing smile. “That’s so interesting…” he replied coyly. “That’s what I was thinking about whether or not I should say to you”
Hizashi turned scarlet, a look of shock painting his face. “Wait, what?! ” he exclaimed. Aizawa reached carefully forward, brushing a now dry strand of hair out of Hizashi’s face and tucking it behind his ear.
“You were so busy worrying about what I thought about YOU being gay that you didn’t even stop to think that- that-...well..” The boy before him seemed to tremble under his touch.
Hizashi leaned forward timidly, pressing his forehead to Shouta’s. “Shouta Aizawa, are you about to tell me that you’re queer too…? Between me, Nemuri, Oboro, Tensei– and now you if that’s what you’re saying— we’re about to have the whole stinking alphabet.” He held his breath. He could hardly believe what seemed to be happening.
Shouta didn’t know when he had become so bold. Something about this moment felt like his shot at telling the big blonde dummy how he felt. He leaned into the connection. Their noses bumped.
“Yeah, I am, actually.” Yamada’s eyes grew round and wide. That impossible green color had never looked so bright. The tenderness in his chest that Shouta so often felt when he looked at Hizashi returned. “And I have a type.”
“ What? ”
“For the guys I’m into.” His gaze flickered down over Hizashi, then back up into his eyes. Hizashi’s throat felt dry. His voice cracked when he spoke.
“O-oh?”
“Yeah…” he continued. “I’m really into guys who are… kind of goofy.. And the ones who are really sweet. Fun to be around. The kinds of guys who are excited to see you, even if all you do is grump at them.” He moved his hands, resting them where his fingers could brush against Hizashi’s. His heart fluttered when they connected.
“Is that– Is that so?” he replied.
“Mhm” Shouta said gently. “And I think I have a thing for musicians. And blondes”
His gaze locked with Hizashi’s, neither of them able or willing to look away. “I like guys with green eyes… ones that are hard not to get lost in, if I’m being honest.” His hand now rested on top of the slightly larger, warmer one. His nose slid down a little, until it was tilted against Yamada’s. Their foreheads were still pressed against one another.
“I guess that’s a pretty specific criteria though… I don’t know where I’m going to find a goofy blonde musician with green eyes who is so…so kind. But there it is– that’s my type.” He spoke softly. “I’m sorry I made you cry, Hizashi.”
Their fingers were fully intertwined. Shouta closed his eyes, and gently bumped his nose to Hizashi’s. “What kind of guys are you into..?” He asked.
The blonde closed his eyes and laughed under his breath. “Ones who wear cat underwear, I guess.”
Aizawa laughed too. He was a delightfully mushy mix of embarrassed and endeared. He wondered how long that little fun fact would be held over him for.
He could feel Hizashi’s breath, warm on his lips. Their fingers were tangled together. He was so warm.
“Shouta….Can I kiss you?”
Shouta smiled, eyes still closed. “To tell you the truth Hizashi… I’ve been hoping you’d ask me that for years now”
He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he closed the tiny gap still left between their faces, pressing his lips to Shouta’s with devastating tenderness. His kiss seemed to drive out the last of the rain’s chill. A bloom of warmth erupted in his chest, spreading throughout his body and into the tips of his fingers.
Hizashi was in heaven, and almost in disbelief. His stomach seemed to be doing a complicated acrobatics routine in his stomach. Shouta was warm and soft. He tasted like chocolate. He smelled like rain and fresh laundry. He was holding his hand, and sitting on his bed, wearing his clothes and kissing him. It was the most wonderful feeling he had ever experienced. Better than getting accepted into UA. Better than winning second place at the sports festival. Better than getting the call that he had been approved to host a late night slot radio show. His heart skipped rope in his chest.
After what felt like a blissful eternity, they broke apart. Hizashi’s expression was dazed. A positively goofy smile spread from ear to ear. He felt almost like he could cry again- joyfully, this time.
“That- that was even better than I imagined it would be.” he said weakly.
Shouta raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh~?” he said sneakily “You’ve been imagining it?
“No!” Hizashi yelped, cheeks coloring. “Well… yes, actually- I’ve- I’ve liked you for a really long time Shouta.” He brought a hand up to gently cup his cheek, and the black haired boy leaned into his touch. “I wish I had known how you felt sooner- we could have had so much more time”
Aizawa nudged his nose against the other’s. “It’s ok–” he said. “We have all the time in the world from now on.”
“I guess… since we know how we feel about each other now-” Hizashi started. “Should we- can I take you on a date?” Shouta considered him thoughtfully.
“You know, in retrospect, all the times we’ve hung out have kind of been dates. Getting to know each other- getting to like each other. Karaoke, Ramen, Movie Nights… I don’t need dates to figure out that I like you. Be my boyfriend, Zashi? You can take me out to dinner after that any time you want”
Hizashi grinned wildly, feeling as though his heart might burst out of his chest.
“I-yea– yes- yes I would– I would love that. I’d love to be your- your boyfriend” he said breathlessly. He leaned forward, planting a clumsy kiss on Aizawa’s nose.
The place where his lips had met Shouta’s skin tingled. He was just so sweet. He had never felt luckier in his whole life. What a fool he was, to have waited so long.
“How about that place downtown, the one with the black garlic tonkotsu?” he asked.
“Sure, that sounds great!” Hizashi replied, still grinning hugely. “But this might be the first and last kiss you get if you order that side of stinky kimchi.”
Shouta laughed softly. “Well we can’t have that-” he leaned forward again, giving him another brief, but equally tender kiss. He squeezed his hand as he did so, and Hizashi squeezed back. It felt so good, so right. It was only his second kiss ever- but Shouta was already sure that this was how he wanted to feel when he kissed Hizashi for as long as he would have him. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of the enormous smile that found its way onto the loud blonde’s face each time they broke apart.
He watched Yamada’s cheeks become tinged with pink as he looked away to pick up his mug of hot chocolate. The blonde took a sip, then pulled a face.
“Bah” he said. “It’s cold chocolate now— I’m gonna go heat this up– and apologize to my mom.” Shouta turned red. He had forgotten about that– some very distracting circumstances had arisen.
“You get comfy-” Hizashi said tenderly. “I’ll be right back.” After a brief moment of deliberation, he swooped and planted another swift kiss on his friend- no, his boyfriend’s cheek.
Shouta’s heart bubbled. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of that.
He watched as Hizashi hastily snatched up the half-full mug and his empty one, and scurried out of the room, forgetting to close the door completely behind him. He could hear his footfalls hurrying down the stairs, padded by high socks as he raced into the kitchen.
Shouta heard the beep of a microwave. A woman’s voice. What sounded like a profuse apology, followed by an explanation. His heart felt warm and mushy as he listened to the tone of what he knew to be Hizashi’s voice become excited. He knew that he must be recounting the daydream they had just lived together to his mother. A high-pitched squeal, and then a grunt that sounded as if perhaps his now-boyfriend had just gotten all of the air squeezed out of him.
Shouta closed his eyes, and relaxed back into the warm sheets of Hizashi’s bed. Rain beat comfortingly down on the window outside. It was nice not to be outside in it. A phrase that sounded an awful lot like “ I’m so happy for you ” leaked through the cracked door. The sound of dozens of kisses on cheeks. A smile spread across Aizawa’s lips. It was possible he had never been this content in his life. At long last, he heard the creak of the stairs as Hizashi made his way back up them, the sound of the door shutting gently behind him. A soft whisper of “I’m back ”
Shouta opened his eyes again. “I missed you.” He couldn’t help but smile. “That sounded like it went well-”
Hizashi laughed. “She’s my biggest supporter. I made her promise not to ever tell you all the things I’ve told her about how much I like you”
“Why not?” Shouta asked innocently. “What if I want to know?”
“Then you-” Hizashi said, sitting in the desk chair beside his bed. “Will just have to be patient and wait ‘till I tell you. I don’t think you’ll have to wait too much. I have so much I’ve wanted to say for so long”
Aizawa couldn’t resist a smile. He hadn’t recalled ever feeling quite so sunny as he did now. Was this what it was like to be Hizashi?
“And did you explain to her that what she walked in on wasn’t what she thought it was?”
The taller boy colored slightly in his cheeks. He laughed awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head.
“Yeah-” he said. “Honestly, she was more embarrassed about it than we were. She made you some more hot chocolate; to make up for it, I think”
He presented Shouta with his previously drained mug. It was full again, steaming with sweet chocolatey warmth, piled high with whipped cream and multicolored sprinkles. He reached for it eagerly.
“I wish your mom felt bad for me more often– this stuff rules.” His boyfriend made a mental note of how much he liked it. It seemed he had discovered the answer to his earlier question about Shouta’s favorite warm drink. Hizashi decided he would ask his mom to teach him how to make it the first chance he got.
“You can have as much as you want, whenever you want while you’re here-” Hizashi replied warmly. “Which will be a while longer. The weather channel said it won’t stop raining until tomorrow. And I don’t think I want to ask Oboro to shuttle you home under a cloud– to tell you the truth, I wish tonight could last forever.”
Aizawa nodded eagerly.
“Whaddya say?” Hizashi asked with a smile. “You wanna call home and let them know you’ll be staying the night?” Shouta grinned. He couldn’t wait.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shouta had slept over at Hizashi’s house many times– usually in a lumpy yellow sleeping bag on the floor, or if exhaustion claimed him sooner than that, curled up on the couch under a squishy old blanket. But never in his bed.
Shouta never had trouble getting comfy, nor was it difficult for him to fall asleep anywhere. Perpetually tired, it was almost like a second quirk the way he could pass out under any circumstances.
Even so, as he settled himself under the covers next to Hizashi for the first time, he was beyond certain that he had never been this comfortable before in his entire life. He was full of hot chocolate that had somehow continued to appear in front of the door, drunk on many many practice kisses they had shared after the first, and exhausted from laughing at a movie they had watched. The movie wasn’t even the funniest part- watching Hizashi’s reaction had been. Shouta grinned lazily remembering his snorts and giggles.
He felt poofy hair tickling his face as a kiss was pressed to his forehead, and knew it was Hizashi wishing him goodnight. As his now-boyfriend settled into the mattress next to him, the warmth of his body pressed against his sent Shouta into a placid slumber faster than flicking off a light switch.
No, this was not the first time they had ever had a sleepover, not by a long shot; but neither of them could have known as they drifted off to sleep that it was the first of what would become most nights for the rest of their lives that their sleepovers would be spent in the same bed. Shouta had been right. They had time. They had forever.
Extra Bonus Art!!!!!! Thank You Slight <333
