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His eyes burned. Aizawa closed them. Placing his pen on the table, he pinched the bridge of his nose. These were the last of the midterms. After this, he had a relatively easy winter break planned. Maybe he and Yagi could actually find time to spend together.
Yagi, who wasn’t taking to semi-retirement very well, he noticed. Sure, he still taught on a very part time-basis and went to interviews once in a while, but since losing One For All, he all but dropped from the public eye. It was better that way, Yagi reasoned, because it was better for the people to remember him as All Might, not as a withered husk of a man. Aizawa was just happy he kept out of relative trouble now. Yagi still pushed his body too hard, still instinctively reacted to cries for help, but he was learning his limits. Trying to push and further them, but learning.
A text tone popped up from Aizawa’s phone. It was Midoriya, asking if he and Yagi wanted to meet up with him the next evening. Even though the boy was now a pro hero and All Might retired, Midoriya still turned to his former mentor and teachers for help. Tokoyami, Asui, and Yaoyorozu also kept in regular contact with Aizawa, citing their time in his class as the best training for remaining calm and level-headed during a crisis. He saw Todoroki, Uraraka, and Iida regularly on the local hero circuit, and they each greeted him brightly when their paths crossed. It was endearing, and a part of Aizawa was touched that his students held him in that sort of regard, but realistically that probably had more to do with the villains they faced during that year than anything Aizawa did.
“Did Midoriya text you, too?” Yagi stuck his head out of the bathroom. The wet weight of his hair combined with the ridiculous image of his pink toothbrush sticking out of his mouth made Aizawa smile. This was all terribly domestic.
“Yeah,” he answered curtly, pretending not to be affected.
“I’ll answer.” Yagi returned to the bathroom and Aizawa could hear him resume his nightly routine.
Aizawa put his phone to the side and continued grading. He really wanted to finish marking these tonight. He should have made all the exams into multiple choice; it would have been much quicker.
Yagi joined him on the couch a few minutes later. He placed his phone on the coffee table currently occupied by exams. When Aizawa didn’t show any discomfort at his proximity, he leaned closer until their shoulders touched. He was dressed in a faded blue T-shirt and a pair of ratty, pale orange sweatpants. All his clothes were worn out, much like the man himself. Aizawa thought they were comfortable, and in his infinite practicality, he favored comfort over style.
“What time are we meeting Midoriya?” Aizawa inquired, marking a student’s score on the top of their exam. These students seemed motivated, at least, but if Aizawa had to answer one more question about what the mighty Deku was like as a student, he would expel someone. His reputation was tarnished if his students found him approachable.
“Actually,” Yagi replied, “I declined.”
Aizawa had a hard time believing that. Yagi loved meeting with his old students and hearing how they fared. “Any reason in particular?”
Yagi shrugged and his face turned a hot red. “We haven’t had much time together, so I thought we might go out, just the two of us.” The back of his neck prickled. He rubbed at him nervously.
“A date.” Aizawa’s stomach fluttered. They hadn’t been on one in a while. He’d be lying if he said the prospect wasn’t appealing.
“Unless you had other plans?”
“I don’t,” he answered, perhaps too enthusiastically because Yagi grinned. His heart thudded deeply. “What did you have in mind?”
Yagi just hummed noncommittally in reply.
Aizawa stared at his lover, unamused by the furtive act. “Toshinori.”
The stern voice, which usually worked wonders on his misbehaving students, did nothing to deter Yagi. The taller man continued to grin without answering.
Setting his pen aside, Aizawa threw a long leg over Yagi’s lap. Straddling him, Aizawa held Yagi’s face in both his hands and leaned in teasingly close. He shifted just enough to grind his groin against Yagi’s. He felt a hardness growing beneath him and smirked. Lust coiled warmly like smoke in his own belly. Yagi’s large hands grabbed his hips and dragged him down harder against him. Aizawa’s black shorts felt entirely too restricting. The entire time he refused to break eye contact. “Toshinori,” he whispered against Yagi’s parted, expectant lips, “tell me.”
As Aizawa covered those last centimeters to nip at Yagi’s lower lip, he felt the blond’s mouth curl into another smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
Aizawa huffed and returned to the opposite end of the couch. He picked up the next exam—the pile was so small now—and began marking wrong answers.
Yagi sat in stunned silence for a few moments, perhaps a little disappointed that things hadn’t progressed further. His dick certainly wasn’t happy with the situation. But, he figured, he probably deserved it. Aizawa didn’t like being teased, but he was rarely ever surprised, and it might be worth a round of blue balls if Yagi got to surprise him. So he sighed and turned the television on to some period drama.
Aizawa was rightfully suspicious when Yagi disappeared the next morning. He left Aizawa in front of his computer with a quick kiss to the cheek and a wave. It bothered Aizawa, not knowing. But he also trusted Yagi. He was curious what Yagi had planned. He hoped it wasn’t some elaborate, expensive dinner. He didn’t need that—even a dinner at home would suffice. He really wanted a quiet evening with just the two of them.
When Yagi reappeared a few hours later with a satisfied smirk on his face, Aizawa affected indifference as he folded their laundry, but his brain raced. He hadn’t bought groceries, so they weren’t having a dinner at home.
“Are we going out for dinner?” he asked. He folded a green shirt and put it on Yagi’s stack of clean clothing. The next one, black, was obviously his. He added it to his own stack.
“Yeah,” Yagi called from their bedroom, “I thought we might go into Tokyo city centre.”
“The city,” Aizawa murmured.
“I figured we’d leave around seven,” Yagi continued as he reentered the room. “That okay with you?” He glanced at Aizawa for confirmation as he gathered his clean clothing to put away.
“That sounds fine.” After he finished folding the laundry, Aizawa stood and returned the bin to the bathroom. They had few hours to kill. He prowled their apartment and found Yagi loading clothes into the set of drawers.
Yagi looked good in properly-fitted clothes. Aizawa studied him as he finished. His lean muscles, much stronger than they appeared, stretched and contracted under his pale skin. The corner of Aizawa’s mouth lifted. He could think of a very nice way to spend some time.
Freshly showered and dressed in a buttoned shirt and pair of slacks, Aizawa waited for Yagi to finish a hushed phone call. He tried to listen in without being obvious, but to no avail.
Yagi ended the call and joined Aizawa in the doorway. He let his hand linger on Aizawa’s waist as he passed through the open door. Aizawa let him lead—this was Yagi’s night. They boarded the train at the nearest station and rode deep into Tokyo. The train was packed on a Friday evening. Mixed with everything else, Yagi could smell a slight hint of Aizawa’s aftershave. He hadn’t noticed it until they were pressed close in the crowds. He focused on it, enjoying the scent.
They transferred lines once reaching Tokyo proper. Yagi led them through the busy station. He wanted to hold Aizawa’s hand, just to make sure they didn’t get separated, but the other man hated public affection. Instead, he hoped his height and blond hair were enough of a beacon for Aizawa to follow. It wasn’t like they could move very quickly anyway.
On the local train, Yagi boxed Aizawa against the wall, sheltering him from the crowds. Aizawa leaned against the wall and glanced up at Yagi, thankful. He let himself doze, half-asleep but still alert, until Yagi tapped his arm.
“Shouta, our stop is next.”
Aizawa blinked blearily and nodded, exiting the train after Yagi.
Their first stop for the evening was a little tonkatsu restaurant not far from Tokyo Tower. They sat at a table in a dim corner. Aizawa appreciated how quiet and secluded it seemed. Only a few patrons sat scattered around the bar and tables. This was the opposite of where Aizawa was expecting Yagi to take him—this was more his kind of place. He slipped into a comfortable posture.
Aizawa ordered a large plate of pork katsu with egg and rice. He took a bite and savored the crunchy panko breading. He sipped his beer. This really was perfect for him. It reminded him of late nights with Hizashi, except… except he was in love with the man seated across from him, not hiding his face and pretending he didn’t know him.
Yagi picked at his own rice and side of miso soup. He started with these lighter foods before tasting the katsu on his plate. It was good, though a bit heavier than his body liked. Still, it was a date, and he could splurge. He ate a few more pieces with a smile on his face.
When they finished, Yagi paid and thanked the staff for the meal. By the time they left the restaurant, it was dark. Yagi took a chance and touched Aizawa’s hand. The younger man didn’t pull away, so Yagi laced their fingers together and shortened his stride to keep pace. They walked towards Tokyo Tower.
Fairy lights blinked in the park near the tower’s base. The tower itself glowed with lights. Yagi gently pulled Aizawa with him into the park. They passed an ancient gate and a Buddhist temple. No destination in mind, they explored the darkened park, talking about nothing important.
It was getting late when Yagi tightened his grip and guided Aizawa in the direction of the shining tower. He seemed to have a destination in mind.
Aizawa found himself at the foot of Tokyo Tower. Yagi let go of his hand to speak to an attendant, who nodded and opened the entrance door for them. Yagi beckoned for Aizawa to follow. The attendant led them past the ticket lines and directly to a set of elevators. She instructed them to board the elevator and they all rode up to the Main Deck.
When they arrived, she led them to a cordoned area labeled Top Deck Gate. Another elevator awaited them. The attendant bowed and ushered them into the Top Deck elevator but did not join them. The door closed and Aizawa watched the world drop from beneath them as the glass box rose. The elevator smoothly came to a stop at their destination and opened to the deck.
Twinkling lights reflected off the angled mirrors lining the interior wall, creating a personal galaxy within the confines of the room. The glow of the Tower’s light, orange for the winter months, bathed Aizawa in its warm radiance. Yagi stared, entranced, as Aizawa walked ahead and into the deck room. He paused for a moment to study the mirrors. The corners of his mouth lifted. His eyes were wide in wonderment. Yagi felt rooted to the entryway, fearful that if he moved, the moment would end.
Aizawa noticed a small table set up with a bottle of champagne on ice and two slender glasses. Shaking his head in amusement, he turned to Yagi. “How did you manage this?”
“I had to beg,” Yagi confessed. “But the manager recognized me, so they allowed me to rent out the deck for half an hour after closing.” When Aizawa’s eyes narrowed in response, Yagi pleaded, “Don’t be mad?” He smiled sheepishly.
Part of Aizawa wanted to be. It was always irksome to him when heroes used their privilege to their own advantages. But on the other hand, a sentimental part of him didn’t mind being romanced this way. So long as Yagi didn’t pull this kind of thing too often, he amended.
Instead, he touched a hand to the cool glass and stared out at lights of Tokyo. During the day, the city was all steel, glass, and hard angles. At night and from this high up, it almost looked organic, like swarms of fireflies stretching further than he could imagine. Aizawa could almost see a magic in the urban sprawl, in the day to day life of the city.
He noticed Yagi’s reflection as the other man came up behind him, so he wasn’t surprised when lean arms wrapped around his body. Yagi enjoyed touch; Aizawa could appreciate it, in this case. He leaned back, trusting that Yagi would support his weight. Yagi kissed his temple and then rested his chin on the top of Aizawa’s head. They both stared out in silence for several minutes.
“It’s beautiful,” Aizawa admitted quietly. He felt Yagi nod in reply. He sighed. “Thank you for doing this.”
Yagi moved his hands to Aizawa’s shoulders and gently turned him around. He lifted a hand to cup Aizawa’s face. Aizawa’s black eyes appeared soft and even Yagi couldn’t deny that there was love in them. His breath caught and his heart couldn’t decide whether to panic or stop, so he instead leaned down to kiss the gorgeous man in front of him. Aizawa’s arms crept around his neck, pulling him closer still. Aizawa’s lips parted and Yagi plundered his mouth, claiming this man he loved so dearly. Words would never do Aizawa justice, for everything he made Yagi feel. All Yagi could manage was an assured “I love you” as he pulled back to breathe. Yagi’s brilliant blue eyes no longer saw the sparkling lights, only Aizawa.
Aizawa chased his lips, following for another kiss. He pressed his body into Yagi’s, lost in the feeling of those arms wrapped around him. There were times when he couldn’t believe this glorious man, fawned over by the world, was his. But this wasn’t the perfect hero All Might holding him. This was quiet Yagi Toshinori, a man humbled and human in his imperfections.
Aizawa was relatively young. Despite his apparent detachment, he had been unsure upon entering this relationship with someone the world deemed so perfect. Yagi didn’t have to see him, not with all the spotlights shining down on him. And yet here they were. They learned one another and Yagi chose Aizawa. “I love you,” he whispered meekly in return. He still wasn’t used to intimacy. The vulnerability of opening himself so completely to someone terrified him, and yet Yagi still held him tight. He felt simultaneously captured and safe.
Slowly, Yagi let him go. He went to the table and popped open the champagne. He disposed of the cork before filling both the glasses halfway. When Aizawa was about to remind him to watch his alcohol consumption, he replied, “just a little, tonight.” He handed Aizawa one of the glasses.
Aizawa held the slender stem with his coarse fingers. He sniffed the glass and smelled the fruity aroma of the champagne. He normally drank harder liquors than this. Hesitantly, he took a sip. It wasn’t bad, he supposed, but not something he’d drink on a regular basis.
Yagi stood beside him and put an arm around his waist. “Oh, right, did I tell you about the dog I got to pet earlier? It was one of those little short ones without the tail.”
Aizawa smiled into his glass as Yagi regaled him with little stories about his day. He silently listened. He could see this, he thought. He could see a future listening to Yagi and being held by him like this. He could envision it so clearly when he closed his eyes.
Maybe, just maybe, he could see this for the rest of his life.