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“Ah, Aizawa-san would you mind helping with this essay? Their handwriting is a little harder to read,” Yagi Toshinori sat on the couch beside the brunet.
His joints groaned as he sat down with his boyfriend. Aizawa looked up from his own papers and nodded softly before taking the essay from Yagi. With his own pen he marked up the paper making sure to take off points for the illegible handwriting. Yagi shifted a bit as he hunched over to work on the other essays. The moments turned to minutes which turned to an hour. Their shoulders were pressed together and their knees bumped if either of them shifted.
Aizawa huffed, Yagi’s shoulder was pressing into his uncomfortably so. It was boney, a reminder of just how much weight the other had lost. Aizawa wouldn’t say that outloud because he enjoyed moments like this: when their bodies barely touched. When it wasn’t a conscious effort. When they simply drifted together as if it was the will of the fates. Suddenly Yagi perked up and reached down into his bag.
“I’m so sorry I almost forgot--I got you something for Saint Valentine’s day!”, he smiled sheepishly as he turned to the other small box in hand.
“I didn’t get you anything,” Aizawa replied simply. He wouldn’t look down at the box. He couldn’t look at the box--
“It’s no matter. I got you this because I wanted to and not because I expected something in return,” Yagi smiled brightly. It was brighter than the sun, brighter than anything Aizawa had ever seen before. It almost blinded him. He wouldn’t mind if it did.
“It’s not fair to you. I always forget to get gifts. I forgot your birthday--I can never return your affection the way I should. I’m not that great of a boyfriend,” the brunet looked away from the other.
Yagi laughed softly. It was a warm sound that juxtaposed from the cold hands that were still holding the boxes.
“I don’t care Aizawa-san. I’m content with only holding hands or sitting two feet away from each other in the cat cafe. I love spending time with you, and maybe our relationship is a little unorthodox but I love it nonetheless. I love you because you’re you,” Yagi looked as serious as death.
Aizawa was looking at a point just behind Yagi’s left bang. He was stock still save for his trembling hands. Yagi’s hands stayed calmly on the box. Yagi would always be there for him; calm, waiting, his pillar. Yagi could almost hear the gears turning in Aizawa’s head. The air felt heavy as Yagi waited with baited breath to see what the other would say, or do, or if anything would happen at all. And something did.
With awkward and stiff movements Aizawa wrapped his arms around Yagi. Aizawa’s hands were shaking as he firmly patted the older man’s back. It hurt. But Yagi wouldn’t say that outloud. He loved every moment of it. The feeling of Aizawa’s tangled hair on his face, the feeling of Aizawa’s breath on his neck, and just the feeling of Aizawa. Having Aizawa there, now, here this close. In his arms--everything he wanted. Yagi sat down the box and wrapped his arms slowly around his boyfriend. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare Aizawa off.
Aizawa relaxed enough to stop shaking, but he was still stiff. Yagi smiled as he gently patted the brunet’s back. They sat there for a few minutes before Yagi pulled back.
“Would you open your gift now?”, he picked up the box and held it out for the other.
Aizawa nodded softly and took the box. He opened it carefully; patiently opening undoing the knotted bow, gently separating the gift wrap, and lovingly opening the top. Aizawa pulled out the golden locket and smiled. The smile was soft, softer than the jagged fronts and walls that Aizawa placed around him. Smaller than the lengths the brunet would go for those he loved. That smiled held secrets, and love, and warmth. Something that Yagi would always cherish.