Chapter Text
Something was going on. Hizashi paced outside Shouta’s bedroom door, distraught that he had neither the thumbs to open the door nor the hearing to eavesdrop. But Shouta had been talking about him. He had been asking after him. He had noticed something was wrong with Hizashi, and whilst it was unlikely he would immediately jump to the conclusion that his new cat was secretly his best friend, it would have been the perfect opportunity for Hizashi to try and communicate that fact to him! But he shut the door. Because of course he would – the cat starts yowling at you when you’re on the phone, you go somewhere else to have the conversation in private. It was so frustrating! What was he supposed to do? Hero training had covered a lot of potential situations, but not one like this (should Hizashi change his curriculum? He should talk to Nedzu when he next gets the chance). In a last-ditch effort to beg his way into the room, Mic started shoving his paws under the door and yowling as pitifully as possible.
He didn’t expect it to work, but then again Shouta was such a softy for animals that maybe he should have because the door opened promptly and he was scooped up with one hand.
“What colour is he?” he saw Shouta say. There was no way Mic could hear what was being said at the other end, even this close to the phone.
“Does he have any markings?”
Another pause and Hizashi was suddenly turned this way and that as Shouta had a quick inventory of his fluffy form. When he was facing Shouta again, he noticed his friend let out a subtle sigh of relief:
“I don’t have your cat,” he said.
There was another pause.
“No, I definitely don’t, this one has no markings whatsoever. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
Hizashi couldn’t help but think that he didn’t look very sorry.
“I hope you find your cat, goodbye.”
Shouta hung up and then Hizashi was suddenly crushed against his chest in a tight hug, Shouta burying his face in his fur and letting out another tense sigh. I wish you hugged me like this as a human, he couldn’t help but think and then admonished himself for being so demanding, especially since Shouta had never been the most tactile person. He was clearly stressed and wanted a cuddle from his cat Noodle (but not his friend Yamada Hizashi, he thought). With a shuddering breath, Shouta pulled back, gently stroking behind Hizashi’s ears and leaning down to kiss his forehead before placing him on the sofa. Hizashi stayed on the sofa whilst Shouta returned to his room. He would have followed, but he was very busy as every atom in his body worked overdrive to commit the sensation of Shouta giving him a loving kiss on the forehead to memory in as much detail as possible. In a perfect world, he’d experience a few more, to ensure the most accurate results, however, the thought of that pushed him a little closer to hyperventilating than he liked so he quickly shut it down. Maybe they could return to it when he had bigger lungs again.
When Shouta came back out he was wearing his capture scarf and his nicest hoodie (no holes, no bloodstains) and he went straight over to the genkan to put his shoes on. Hizashi trotted over to him, his tail raised in curiosity.
“Where are you off to?”
“I’m going to go and check on my friend Hizashi, I’ll be back in two hours, or so,”
“I’m right here, Shouta!”
“I won’t be long; you’ve already eaten and there’s plenty of water in your fountain.”
“You’re going to find an empty flat and panic!” Hizashi yowled up at him. At least they’d figure out that he’d been missing, but he’d rather Shouta figured he was the cat he had rescued rather than just finding out he’d been missing for days.
“Shouta!” He yowled, “I’m right here! I’m just a cat!”
“I’ll see you later.”
“SHOUTA!”
A foot blocked him from following as the door shut.
Hizashi let out a howl of frustration and turned around to start pacing around the flat, his tail lashing. Shouta would lose his mind when he got there and found an empty flat. Although they would immediately raise the alarm about his disappearance and hopefully someone would start piecing together what had happened to him he’d prefer that all happened without giving his friend an aneurysm! Hizashi believed that Shouta would look very fetching when he got grey hairs, but he’d rather not be the source of them.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of personal autonomy to be found as a cat – well, none that included leaving the flat. This meant that Hizashi was going to be stuck trying to entertain himself when he really didn’t feel like being entertained; he felt like doing something proactive and helpful.
He spent the better half of an hour being none of those things when suddenly, with a wave of nearly indescribable vertigo, Hizashi found himself much, much taller. A quick spin around the room (not helping the vertigo) revealed he was on two legs again.
“YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” He cried, the windows rattling in their frames.
Looking down, however, did reveal that he was wearing the same amount of clothing as when he was a cat – none.
Well, a quick rummage through Shouta’s wardrobe solved that! Even if he was wearing exponentially fewer colours than normal (Shouta’s wardrobe consisted of black, grey and charcoal), and the trousers were a tad short. There was also a tangle of hairbands on his bedside table that Hizashi also helped himself to. There were even a few blonde ones in with the black ones from where Hizashi had lent some to him. His own bedside table had a similar tangle (with matching black ones in the mix for Shouta). He still didn’t have his glasses or hearing aids, but at the very least he could talk and use JSL.
Now that he was dressed the next thing to do would be to try and contact Shouta. He’d have his phone on him, but Hizashi didn’t have his own, and Shouta didn’t own a landline for him to use. He could go out and meet Shouta at his house, but that was plan C. Plan B was booting up Shouta’s laptop, which he did confidently typing in the password without his glasses since he’d had it memorised for years, and going into the settings to change the formatting to the “HIZASHI SETTING” as Shouta had labelled it – it was a program designed to help anyone with a visual impairment navigate the laptop, so all the text was large, in an easy-to-read font, same with any buttons and the cursor icon (he’d downloaded in their third year of high school; Hizashi had been so touched he had to hold back tears as Shouta had showed him where on his laptop to find it, and put the title in capital letters so it’d be easier to locate).
Logging into his emails he quickly wrote up a report of what had happened over the last few days, along with his current location in Shouta’s flat and general lack of injury. He sent it off to his agency, before crafting a similar but less formal email to Shouta and hoping he saw it before he freaked out. Admittedly, someone had stolen his phone and had been contacting Shouta under the guise of being him (he really hoped they hadn’t brought up any sensitive information) so he might be cautious of an email from Hizashi. But at the worst, he’d stake out his own place and realise it was Hizashi there and not some imposter. Besides, judging from when he left, Shouta should be at Hizashi’s flat now - it wouldn’t be long until he started investigating and would no doubt find the email. It was probably best that Hizashi stayed in the same place rather than risk heading after Shouta and missing each other – especially since he didn’t currently have a phone or any other way to be contacted. He'd had enough of wandering the streets looking for help as a cat, he didn't feel like doing it again as a human.
This also meant that Hizashi could sit tight in Shouta’s flat and make himself something to eat since his now much larger stomach and metabolism had burnt through the small dish of tuna he’d had earlier and was now quite ravenous. He could also make enough for Shouta and try and get some real food in him to supplement whatever jelly pouch he’d tried to pass off as a meal earlier.
Unfortunately, hunting through the fridge and cupboards revealed that Shouta didn’t own vegetables. Not fresh ones at least. The freezer contained a sad-looking bag of frozen veg mix which had about a cupful left, (silver lining: proof that Shouta has eaten vegetables at some point) so Hizashi decided to do the best he could with that, some noodles and extra stuff in the cupboard to make a simple ramen and broth. When he was done he set a portion aside for Shouta and went back to the laptop to check his emails; his agency had replied expressing relief at his contact and asking if he was available for a proper debrief at their offices tomorrow, which he agreed to, but nothing from Shouta yet.
He briefly considered having a shower, but he wanted to be able to respond immediately if there was an email from Shouta, also he didn’t particularly feel like using the atrocious-looking 18-in-one shampoo-conditioner-bodywash-facewash-engine-oil or whatever it was he had seen in the bathroom. At one point Shouta had kept spares of Hizashi’s preferred products in the bathroom but he distinctly remembered using the last of them a few weeks ago when he crashed here after a particularly gruelling patrol, and he hadn’t remembered to buy replacements yet. He did brush his teeth though, since he hadn’t been able to as a cat and had a toothbrush here anyway.
With nothing better to do, he also started going around the flat and tidying up – he wasn’t used to too much spare time and normally he’d be able to do something for his hero work, or teaching, or radio show, but he didn’t have any of the necessary equipment with him. It was just him, alone in Shouta’s flat, with a borrowed laptop. He was too keyed up to stream anything and even if he wasn’t, without his glasses or hearing aids it would be harder to keep up with whatever was going on. Besides, after housing him as a stray cat for the last couple of days a home-cooked meal and doing the laundry seemed like a decent way to start expressing his appreciation.
It was whilst he was putting away the clean laundry he’d found in the dryer that the tell-tale impact of a slamming door vibrated through the walls of the flat.
“SHOUTA!” He yelled with a grin, rushing out of the bedroom, swinging himself around on the doorframe to look at where his best friend was standing in the genkan. Shouta’s chest was heaving, and his eyes were wide in surprise, the door still open behind him.
“Hizashi?” he asked, expression morphing first into confusion and then suspicion, eyes glowing red as his quirk activated. Hizashi didn’t take it personally.
“What’s my favourite jelly flavour?” Shouta asked.
“In general? Grape. But if you’re talking about those awful jelly pouches that you insist count as a meal, the limited-edition pomegranate flavour they did a couple of years ago,” Hizashi answered without pause.
Shouta dropped his quirk immediately and suddenly Hizashi was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. He retaliated with equal force, burying his face in Shouta’s neck. There was a rumble against his chest, and he realised Shouta was speaking.
“I don’t have my hearing aids,” he said into his friend’s hair, unwilling to be the one to break the hug.
Shouta pulled back to look at his face, “I said I was so worried,” he then looked Hizashi up and down, “are you injured at all?”
Hizashi shook his head, already mourning the loss of contact, “nope. I’ve been stuck as a cat but a well-cared-for one, so it wasn’t that bad,” he said with a smile.
A slight redness coloured Shouta’s cheeks, “yes, I gathered that you were Noodle about half an hour ago.”
“Really?” Hizashi asked, thinking back on the last half hour. They hadn’t even been in the same building. “What gave it away?”
With a start Shouta turned to where he had left his bag, opening it he pulled out something small and dark and held it up for Hizashi to see. It meowed at him. Hizashi stared at it, trying to figure out why it looked so familiar…
“NEMURI?!”
She yowled at him again, tail swishing in annoyance.
“When we got to your flat some people were waiting,” Shouta explained, placing Nemuri gently down onto his sofa, “we think they were hoping you would try and head home so they could catch you. But when we got there a fight broke out. It wasn’t much of a fight but Nemuri got hit with a quirk and the pieces weren’t difficult to put together after that.”
“Oh, they must only be able to change one person at a time,” Hizashi realised.
“We weren’t sure about that but seeing you now, it seems likely,” Shouta said, looking for all the world as if he wanted to crush Hizashi to his chest again, “I’m sorry we didn’t realise sooner.”
Hizashi waved him off, “it would’ve been quite the jump to assume the stray cat you picked up was your best friend under the influence of a quirk. Besides, you took great care of me anyway.”
Shouta still looked a little guilty, so Hizashi decided to change the subject, “what are we going to do about Nemuri?”
The little black cat in question yowled up at him, flicking her tail impatiently.
“Well, the police are taking care of the villains right now. When I realised you were probably at my flat as a cat, and with Nemuri in the same situation, I passed the arrest off to them so I could take care of you both. I said I’d give my statement in the morning, and you two when you were able,” Shouta said. “Hopefully, they’ll find a way to stop the effects of the quirk from the station.”
Hizashi had a sudden thought, “when would they get to the station?”
Shouta paused to think before saying, “probably sometime around now, why?”
Instead of answering, Hizashi rushed back into Shouta’s room and grabbed some sweatpants and a shirt from the laundry he’d been putting away before returning to throw them onto the sofa next to Nemuri. She gave him a very unimpressed look.
“Sorry,” Hizashi said, rubbing the back of his head, “I thought it would be best to have them ready – when I turned back, I was completely naked,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some stuff.”
“It’s fine,” Shouta said, staring at the wall his face steadily getting more and more red.
Hizashi wondered if the thought of a naked Nemuri popping up was really that flustering to Shouta before deciding he didn’t want to know, “I made food, by the way!”
That got Shouta to look at him – “What?”
“Food,” Hizashi repeated, “I was kinda hungry when I turned back so I made some ramen and put some aside for you. You’re out of frozen veggies now, by the way,” he said, wandering into the kitchen without looking back to see if Shouta was following, “I can’t see if you’re saying anything, but if it’s about those jelly-pouches being meals you’re wrong.”
He picked up the bowl he’d left to stay warm in the oven and turned around to see Shouta still looking quite red and a little put out – “they are a meal,” he muttered.
“EH-UH,” Hizashi replied with an impression of an incorrect buzzer, handing the bowl to his friend and fishing his favourite chopsticks out of the drawer.
Shouta was still red when he handed them over. Was he getting sick?
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked.
Shouta looked up from his food, “what? Yes, I’m fine, I just…” he looked back down at the bowl for a moment and then back up at Hizashi, avoiding his gaze as he said, “I’m very glad you’re not hurt.”
Hizashi’s face crumpled into a soft smile, “aw, you big softie!”
Shouta tsk-ed and turned away to eat his food on the sofa, Hizashi following after and continued pestering him as Shouta did his best to ignore him and focus on eating his food. The blush on his face showed he wasn’t as successful as he would have liked.
“Oh, what happened to my stuff, do you know?” Hizashi asked.
Shouta paused in his eating, “what do you mean?”
“When I was transformed all my stuff got left behind: keys, phone, wallet, clothes, hearing aids, glasses, ya know?”
“Oh,” Shouta said, “well, I never heard anything about your stuff turning up, or I would have been suspicious earlier, so I assume the villains took it.”
“Damn, I hope the police find out where they left them. Til then I guess I’ll have to use the spare key I gave you, if that’s okay.”
The food paused on its way to Shouta’s mouth, “why would you need to use your spare key tonight?”
“To…get into my place?”
“Why?” Shouta said, looking back in confusion.
“Because I’m human again, and I should go home?” It came out like a question.
Shouta put his food on the coffee table, “you’re recovering from the effects of a quirk we know very little about, you should stay here tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll go over to your place again to collect your laptop, spare hearing aids and glasses and anything else you want me to grab. But I don’t think you should be left unattended,” Shouta said, resolutely not looking at Hizashi the whole time he was talking.
“Oh,” Hizashi said, and he really hoped his voice hadn’t cracked, but it certainly felt like it had, “okay.”
Shouta went back to his food and Hizashi curled his feet up underneath himself on the sofa and turned to look at Nemuri, who was looking back at him with just as much judgement in her eyes as normal. He reached out a hand and scratched behind her ears. She was a small cat with long dark fur and delicate features, and her eyes still held that slightly smug, cunning expression they often had.
“You still look like yourself, you know?” He said to her, she tilted her head to stare questioningly at him, “I mean, I recognised you immediately. You look exactly like yourself, just as a cat.”
Nemuri snorted and shook her head before leaping off the sofa to go and wander around the flat.
Hizashi turned to Shouta, “did I look like myself?”
“As a cat, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes. Looking back, it seems obvious that it was you.”
Hizashi hummed in thought, “I never really saw myself. There aren’t really any mirrors at ground level.”
“I…have some pictures if you want to see them.”
Hizashi whipped his head around to look at Shouta, “I didn’t notice you taking any pictures of me.”
Shouta flushed red again, but instead of explaining, he just fished his phone out of his pocket and opened up what seemed to be an entire folder dedicated to a cat he had had for less than a week. As he flicked through the pictures, Hizashi couldn’t help but think that he had made a very pretty cat. His fur was long and silky-looking, a pale cream colour with elegant whiskers. His ears had been large and almost bat-like but looked completely in proportion to the rest of him. His eyes were an even more vibrant green than as a human and set in an angular face above a small pink nose. He had been a big cat too – on the photos Shouta had of him on the sofa he took up the majority of both cushions when he was stretched out, his tail blurred slightly in the picture where he had been flicking it in his sleep. He could see why Shouta had been so taken with him as a cat. He couldn’t help but wish he’d be that taken with his as a human as well, but that was probably asking for too much.
“You were right when you called me a pretty kitty,” he said, trying to distract himself.
Instead of rolling his eyes or joking back, however, Shouta turned beet red and stared at him like a deer in headlights.
“Shouta?”
His friend stood abruptly, motioning to the now empty bowl in his hands, “I’m going to wash up.”
Huh. Maybe he was embarrassed about baby-talking Hizashi as a cat. Or giving him compliments that he would never have given him as a human. Hizashi tried not to feel hurt at that particular thought. Instead, he stood up and stretched, the slightly too-small sweatshirt riding up over his stomach if the sudden breeze was anything to go by.
“Well, I’ve already brushed my teeth, so I might just go wash my face and get ready for bed if that’s okay,” he said looking at Shouta, who seemed to have frozen in the kitchen, staring at him intently. Had he said something that Hizashi had missed?
“Shouta?”
His friend snapped to attention, his cheeks turning pink again (they were doing that a lot tonight), “you don’t want a shower? You’ve been a cat for the past couple of days.”
“Oh, well, I used up the last of my stuff here a few weeks back, so…”
“I got you some more,” Shouta said.
“You what?”
“I bought more of your bathroom stuff,” Shouta said, enunciating his words more so they were easier to lip-read, “shampoo, conditioner, body wash. They’re under the bathroom sink.”
Hizashi felt his own face flush as he tried not to overreact to what was probably just his friend being attentive. But his shower products were on the more expensive side, and he’d never said or done anything that implied he expected Shouta to buy them.
“Thanks, Shouta,” he said, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“Whatever,” Shouta said, still a little red in the face.
Hizashi shot him a grateful smile before wandering into the bathroom. There, underneath the sink were all the products he used (not including the ones to put his hair into his signature updo, because they took up a heinous amount of room and Hizashi would never subject anyone’s bathroom but his own to the affair). He felt tears prickle at his eye and dabbed them away with the sleeve of Shouta’s sweatshirt. He wouldn’t normally react so strongly but after the week he’d had, the small act of care seemed enough to tip him over the edge. He let out a shaky breath and decided to get on with his shower.
Hizashi was fine, Hizashi was safe, Hizashi was fine, Hizashi was safe, Shouta kept reminding himself as he washed up. The realisation that Hizashi’s flat hadn't been lived in for days when he arrived there had done more to terrify him than the ensuing fight with the villains ever could. The knowledge that the first 24 hours were crucial in a missing person's case and the knowledge that that time limit had already been reached was a double blow that had his stomach dropping to his feet. He almost felt bad for the villains: attacking him when he was digesting that information meant that the ensuing fight was far more brutal than usual. It wasn't because he was vindictive, it was because every moment he was fighting them was a moment that he wasn't looking for Hizashi.
But it was fine. Hizashi was here. Hizashi had been here the whole time. Safe. Cared for. By Shouta. Oh god, he could feel his face flushing again.
He was really trying not to think about the past few days and his actions: he didn't feel like dying from embarrassment in his thirties. He called Hizashi pretty. To his face. Shouta had been aware that Hizashi was pretty for years but he had always managed to keep it to himself. Where it couldn't bother his friend. He hoped he could play it off as him baby-talking his most recent stray cat. He could salvage this and ensure he didn't make his friend uncomfortable.
But fuck, if coming home worried out of his mind to find Hizashi safe and sound, dressed in his clothes hadn't sent his brain into a spiral. It was a very pleasant spiral as well. He had cooked for him. He had put on a load of laundry. Shouta could see on his laptop that the HIZASHI SETTING had been activated, and now he was in the shower, the steam escaping from under the door carrying the smell of his shampoo. It felt an awful lot like how things might go if he lived here.
And Shouta needed to shut that thought down before it got out of control. Hizashi did not live here. He did not live with him. They were friends, nothing more. And that was enough. At least, that's what he told himself. It wasn't working. His pining had gotten the bit between its teeth after the fear of losing him had set it, and Shouta was struggling to rein it in.
The sound of the shower shut off and was closely followed by the sound of the hair dryer. Shouta moved to the cupboards to start searching for something that would make an appropriate breakfast – since Hizashi was never going to accept a jelly pouch on its own as a meal, Shouta was going to have to supplement it. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much, and what he did have went into the ramen.
Shouta wasn’t much of a breakfast person anyway, so it had been a long shot. Still, he reckoned if he got up with his first alarm instead of the third one, he’d be able to get down to the bakery a few streets over and get something from there. Besides, Hizashi only gave him grief about the jelly pouches when he ate them instead of a meal, if he had them as a snack, or with a meal he was very supportive. When he found out that the pomegranate flavour Shouta had become enamoured with was limited-edition, he’d bulk bought enough for Shouta to have a small hoard that lasted almost a year after they stopped being produced (thank goodness for their long shelf-life).
The hair dryer shut off, which was all the warning Shouta got to get a handle on his pining before Hizashi opened the door and wandered back into the living area. Shouta had been right to call him pretty. Maybe he wouldn’t have to make up for it. It was a fact. You don’t often need to make up for stating a fact. The sun rises in the east, it’s snowing in Antarctica, and Hizashi Yamada is pretty. Maybe he could even start saying it. Only when it was relevant, of course. Same way he wouldn’t bring up that it was snowing in Antarctica unless it was on topic.
No. No. Shouta couldn’t do that. If he started thinking it was okay to call Hizashi pretty, it would only be a matter of time before he started thinking it was okay to hold his hand – just while crossing the road. Just in crowded areas so they didn’t lose each other. And then it would only be a matter of time before he started thinking it was okay to fall asleep with his head in his lap. Just when he was tired, just when there wasn’t a bed. And it would keep spiralling and spiralling until he was telling himself that it was okay for him and Hizashi to commit to a marriage of convenience and adopt three cats and move in together, and by that point, there would be no way Hizashi hadn’t noticed Shouta’s massive crush and let him down so gently and Shouta would have to face the fact that Hizashi didn’t love him the way he loved Hizashi and he never would.
Oh great, now he was sad. He sighed, frustrated more with himself than anything else: he could avoid that train of thought normally, but they hadn’t had a normal week and it was bringing things to the surface that he’d rather remain below.
“What’s up?” Hizashi asked.
“Nothing,” Shouta said, staring at the ceiling. It was definitely his chronic dry-eye making his eyes water, nothing else. “It’s just been an intense week.”
“You can say that again!” Hizashi said, “the world’s pretty scary when you’re only a foot tall and can’t see or hear very well.”
God, here Shouta was lamenting that he couldn’t call Hizashi pretty, and poor Hizashi had been through the wringer this week.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said, “that must have been very distressing.”
“It stopped being distressing when you found me.”
Fuck, if Shouta didn’t do something quick he was going to end up holding Hizashi’s hand and stroking his hair, which sounded lovely but wouldn’t be easy to explain.
“We should head to bed,” he said. Then he realised the wording, oh no, it was just like if they lived together. In a non-platonic way. The kind that involved being married. And kissing.
“Sure thing,” Hizashi said, unaware of Shouta’s plight, “where am I sleeping?”
“Well, there’s the sofa-” Shouta started, only to be hissed at.
He turned around to see Nemuri having stretched herself out quite comfortably on said sofa glaring up at him and seeming to take up as much space on the cushions as possible. He turned back to Hizashi.
“Guess we’re sharing!” Hizashi said as Shouta bid goodbye to his sanity: he was going to share a bed with his crush, yes, but also, he was going to share a bed with his crush.
He had no idea how he felt about that (lie: the feeling was ‘conflicted’) and he didn’t feel like finding out.
“Okay, I’ll message Nedzu and say neither you nor Nemuri will be at work tomorrow since you don’t have your phone.”
“Why wouldn’t I be in work tomorrow?”
Shouta stared at Hizashi as if he was an idiot because he was starting to have suspicions of just that – “You’ve been a cat for the last few days, and you still need to give your statement to the police as well as your agency.”
“I mean, I could probably make that work around the school day, right?” Hizashi wheedled.
“No,” Shouta said, with as much finality as he could manage, “now which side of the bed do you want?”
Maybe if he changed the subject Hizashi would forget about his personal goal to overwork himself at any given moment.
“Oh, uh,” Hizashi replied, cheeks going pink, “well, since I won’t be able to hear your alarm, can I take the side with the window? That way the light should be able to wake me up, at least.”
Shouta nodded. Excellent, that also meant that he wouldn’t hear Shouta sneaking out to get their breakfast – he didn’t need Hizashi sneaking off to work when he wasn’t looking. He should also message the station manager to say Hizashi wouldn’t be in work tomorrow either; before the blonde menace managed to find his way back to his radio show when he was supposed to be under supervision for quirk recovery.
“I’m going to brush my teeth,” Shouta said, moving to the bathroom.
The bathroom still smelt like Hizashi’s shampoo, which was lovely but not helping. The best plan that Shouta could come up with for this scenario is to fall asleep as quickly as possible before he can do anything embarrassing. Thankfully, Shouta was incredibly good at falling asleep quickly; sometimes he even managed it without trying. And he didn’t have to worry about saying anything incriminating in his sleep since Hizashi was deaf! The only way he could possibly reveal his crush would be if he ended up cuddling Hizashi and if he turned the thermostat down, he could just blame it on being cold. He was a genius.
There was a knock on the door, and he turned to see Hizashi leaning into the bathroom; “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but it was a bit chilly, so I’ve turned the thermostat up a bit.”
Shouta gave him a thumbs up whilst mourning his cunning plan. Now what was he going to do? Cuddle Hizashi.
Brushing his teeth had given him just about enough time to gather himself for what was going to be quite the challenge (not cuddling Hizashi). The lights were already off when he got there and he collapsed onto his side of the bed, burying his face into his pillow and willing his fast-sleep ability to kick in.
“Good night,” he heard from the darkness.
“Good night,” he replied, eyes already heavy with sleep.
Wait, Hizashi won’t have heard him say good night. Shouta could already feel himself drifting off so did the first thing he thought of – he reached out his hand and when he found Hizashi’s body, he reached for his hand and entwined them. Hizashi would know what it meant – good night.
Now, you might think that the next morning, when Shouta was woken by his alarm and a bit more coherent, he would overthink that particular choice. And normally, you would be right; if it weren't for the much more pressing situation of Hizashi cuddling him. There was no other way to describe it - Shouta was lying on his back with his arms wrapped around Hizashi's shoulders, and Hizashi was fast asleep on top of him, his face buried in Shouta's chest with his arms wrapped around Shouta's middle. Shouta didn't think he'd be able to extricate himself if he wanted to (and he didn't). But it did bring up a new issue - how was Shouta supposed to sneak out to grab breakfast from the bakery and Hizashi's spare things? Could the bakery deliver?
Shouta reached for his phone to check. No, apparently not. He was going to have to come up with another plan. The first step, he decided, was to doze off in Hizashi's arms until he could come up with a better plan.
A gentle knock on the door woke him up from the excellent execution of that step, and he looked up to see Nemuri gently opening the door dressed in the spare clothes Hizashi had laid aside for her last night.
Nemuri already knew about his massive crush on Hizashi, but that still didn't mean that he wanted this particular moment of vulnerability to be seen. But seeing as how he was basically pinned by a sleeping 'Zashi, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about the situation beyond glare.
Nemuri was looking delighted, so the glare hadn't worked.
"Oh my God!" She said, pointing at them as if there were anything else in the room she could be excited about.
"Shut up!" Shouta hissed.
"Wait," she said, confused, "why are you whispering?"
"He'll be able to feel the vibrations in my chest if I talk," Shouta whispered back, scowling.
"Gross, you're so cute," she replied.
"Have you heard from the police or did you just turn back without warning?"
"Turned back without warning. Haven't heard from them yet, but I haven't checked my phone since it died in the night."
"Sorry," Shouta said, "I should have plugged it in for you."
"Yeah, yeah, you were too busy following your boyfriend around like a lost puppy."
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"Does he know that?" She said, motioning to where Hizashi was entwined around Shouta.
"Maybe he got cold?"
"He's kicked the covers off."
Shouta looked down and realised she was right. Hizashi had kicked the covers down so they barely covered their legs. He felt his face heat up.
"God you too are atrocious. You should kiss."
"NEMURI!" Shouta whisper-shouted.
She threw her hands up in exasperation, "Whatever, I want breakfast and you only own jelly pouches."
"There's a bakery down the street, but don't go until your phone's got some charge."
"Sure thing, you want anything?"
"Just pick up some pastries. Get something for 'Zashi as well, but not too sugary."
"Just marry him already," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Shut up," Shouta murmured, face burning.
Nemuri walked up to him and started looking around his bedside table.
"What are you after?" he asked.
"Your wallet."
"I hate you. It's in the left pocket of my trousers, they're down there," he said, nodding to where he'd thrown his clothes in the direction of the laundry basket last night.
"Thanks," Nemuri said, securing his wallet and leaving the room with a wink.
"Don't forget your phone!" Shouta called out after her.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard. Well, at least that solved the problem of breakfast. He started stroking Hizashi's hair absentmindedly. This was nice. This was good. Nemuri was back to her human form, she was getting them breakfast but had her phone on her in case anything went wrong. They were all safe. And Hizashi was snuggled up against Shouta's chest like there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be.
Shouta wasn't sure how much time had passed as he ran his fingers through Hizashi's hair, but after a while, he began to stir, and soon a pair of sleepy green eyes were looking up at him.
"Good morning sleepyhead," he said, and couldn't help the grin.
Hizashi looked at him in confusion for a moment, and then down at where he had his arms wrapped securely around his middle and then back up at his face. A bright red flush slowly started to take over his cheeks.
"M-morning," he murmured into Shouta's chest.
When Hizashi made no move to break apart, Shouta went back to playing with his hair. If Hizashi didn't want to stop cuddling, like hell was Shouta going to.
"Nemuri's turned back. She's out getting us all breakfast from the bakery down the road."
Hizashi looked up at him in concern, "Is anyone with her?"
"She took her phone with her and if she isn't back in 20 minutes I'm gonna go after her," Shouta said.
"Why didn't you go with her in the first place?" Hizashi demanded, leaning up on his arms to stare at Shouta.
"I was otherwise engaged," Shouta said, looking pointedly down at Hizashi and feeling his cheeks flush.
Hizashi's accusing look dropped, being replaced by a much more self-conscious one as he dropped back down onto Shouta's chest.
"How are you feeling?" Shouta asked.
"Fine," Hizashi said, cheeks still pink.
"Are you sure?" Shouta asked, "No dizziness? Nausea?"
Hizashi shook his head: normally a mundane action, but when it was done pressed into Shouta's chest it was remarkably cute. Almost a nuzzle, really.
Shouta couldn't help but smile, "comfy?" He asked.
Hizashi went even redder and squeezed his eyes shut, "you don't mind?"
Shouta waited for his eyes to open to reply; "not at all."
Hizashi, miraculously, managed to get redder, "you can say if I'm being too needy," he said, not meeting Shouta's eye.
Too needy? He couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't want Hizashi to need him. It might be coming on a bit strong to say that aloud though. He settled for just wrapping his arms back around Hizashi's shoulders and holding him tight. Hizashi squeezed him back and Shouta let out a contented sigh. He was in danger of falling back asleep at this rate.
But Hizashi pulled back. Shouta tried not to pout as he looked at his friend questioningly.
"Are you sure this is okay? I know you're not the most touchy-feely person."
"Doesn't mean I don't like it," Shouta grumbled.
"O-okay," Hizashi said, laying his head back down on Shouta's chest, still watching his face. There was a pause and then he asked, "Promise?" with his big green eyes looking up at Shouta as if he could ever change his mind.
Why wasn't this getting through his thick skull? Shouta reached a hand down to entwine his fingers with Hizashi's, feeling his face flush again, "promise."
Hizashi looked at their intertwined fingers with a soft expression as he started rubbing comforting circles on his knuckles.
Shouta let out a sigh, "I missed you, you know?"
Hizashi looked up at him, "you did?" he asked with a smile.
"Of course I did," Shouta replied, "even when I thought you were just at home, sick. I missed you."
"You're so sweet, you know that?" Hizashi said.
It wasn't the first time he'd said that to Shouta but it was the first time that Shouta didn't argue the point. He'd always been worried about Hizashi thinking about his sweetness too long and realising where it came from. He was still worried about now, but he was starting to be more worried about Hizashi not knowing.
"Just...don't do it again," Shouta said, looking away.
"don't worry: I have no future plans to be turned into a cat, sorry to disappoint."
Shouta looked back, nose wrinkled in confusion, "why would I be disappointed?"
"Well, you love cats," Hizashi said, "and I'm sure I was more manageable."
"I don't want you to be more manageable."
"You don't?" Hizashi said, blinking up at him in confusion.
"Why would you think that?" Shouta asked, aghast.
"I mean, it would make your life easier, wouldn't it?"
"If I wanted my life to be easier I never would have gone into heroics, let alone teaching," Shouta pointed out, "Easier has never meant better."
Hizashi eyes were starting to become that certain kind of shiny that meant tears were imminent.
"Shit," Shouta said, trying to wipe at Hizashi's eyes with their hands still intertwined, "was that the wrong thing to say?"
Hizashi rubbed his face on Shouta's shirt, leaving little damp streaks.
"I just meant that I want you around even if it's difficult," Shouta tried, then winced, "wait, no, I don't mean that you're difficult!"
"It's fine, Shouta," Hizashi said, looking up at him, "I get it."
"Do you?" He replied, really not trusting that he'd gotten his point across.
"I make your life better, not easier?" Hizashi checked.
"Yes," Shouta said, "but I don't mean 'not easier' in a bad way!"
"You make my life better, not easier as well," Hizashi said.
Shouta paused, "I do?"
"Of course you do!" Hizashi said, "and I wouldn't change it for the world!"
Shouta let out a sigh of relief, he did understand.
"Why are you crying then?" Shouta asked.
"Because I understood!"
Hizashi understood how he felt and it made him cry? It was that bad?
Before the world could finish falling out from underneath him, Hizashi clarified - "I'm having a big feeling, not a bad one."
"Oh," Shouta said, remembering Hizashi explaining that a few times before; crying wasn't always because you felt bad. Right. "What..." Shouta started, "what kind of big feeling?"
Hizashi looked up at him, "when we say 'you make my life better, not easier', we mean 'I love you', right?"
"W-well," Shouta said, the world falling out from under him again, "I meant what I said, but, I-I did mean that as well, yes."
"Okay, good," Hizashi said, fully crying now, "because I know I did."
And there went the world for the third time in this conversation. Shouta let his head fall back onto the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. His other hand reached up to stroke Hizashi's back. After a moment Hizashi piped up again:
"Shouta?"
"Hmm?"
"What do we do now?"
Shouta thought for a brief moment, "I'd...like to stay like this a little longer," he said, squeezing Hizashi a little closer for emphasis.
There was a contented sigh from Hizashi, "me too," he said, nuzzling into Shouta's chest.
Shouta's head fell to the side to look at the bright sunshine falling through the blinds, his hand still running up and down Hizashi's back, the smell of his shampoo still clinging to the pillow next to him, despite his suspicions that it wasn't used much last night - it seemed his chest was Hizashi's favourite pillow, going by the available evidence. He wondered how many more mornings he'd get like this one. He turned away from the sunlight and closed his eyes, exhaling. He hoped they made up the majority.
The silence was shattered by the front door slamming open:
"I've got breakfast, dipshits!" Nemuri yelled out into the flat.
Shouta sighed. For fuck's sake.