Work Text:
On the Job
Occasionally, when Shouta was on patrol and Hizashi couldn’t sleep, he would sit on the couch and flip to channel 4, the only local news station that would provide late-night coverage in real time. Oftentimes, there was little worthy of report, but every so often there would be a crime bust exciting enough to be covered in the reporter’s effort to get it on tv before the morning stations did.
If he was extra lucky, sometimes he’d get to see a glimpse of his husband leaving the scene after saving the day.
Today was apparently one such day, for as he stared mindlessly at the tv screen, a glimpse of a long white scarf in the background caught his eye. He sat up, clutching a throw pillow and grinning stupidly.
The cameraman seemed to finally notice the underground hero and zoomed in on him, providing Hizashi a clear view of the young girl Shouta was kneeling beside.
She couldn’t have been older than six years old, and given the situation (a near kidnapping, according to the news), she should have been trembling with fear. And yet, she was nodding along to whatever Shouta was telling her, clutching one end of his scarf in her tiny fists.
By the tilt of her blonde head, she appeared to be asking him a question. There was no audio for Shouta’s response, but the smile he gave her was so tender and reassuring that Hizashi felt his heart leap in his chest. Just as he was considering pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the moment, it shattered as Shouta finally noticed the cameraman and abruptly stood, glaring harshly at the reporters. He turned to make his escape, but not before giving the young girl one last wave goodbye.
Hizashi ended up dozing on the couch, clutching the pillow to his full heart.
For a Friend
Shouta was of the mindset that laughter directed as Ms. Joke never counted because she was probably throwing a bit of her quirk in the punchline. Hizashi was inclined to agree. Although, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her as yet another one of her jokes fell flat. Shouta was a tough audience; he himself knew that better than anyone.
There was a sharp huff to his right, the beginnings of a laugh, but by the time he turned his head, Shouta’s expression was schooled back into a red eyed glare.
“Aww, you’re no fun,” Emi whined. Despite her complaint, she looked largely unruffled, broad grin still plastered on her face. Hizashi would never admit that he finds it a little unnerving.
“Don’t you have a show to put on?” Shouta said rather pointedly. He gestured to the empty stage of the comedy club, sparsely decorated with a stool and a lonely microphone. She waved off his concern.
“I still have some time. Will you two be staying to watch?”
Shouta and Hizashi briefly exchanged glances. The latter won their silent argument easily and turned to her in bright agreement.
“Of course we will, girl!” Hizashi hooted, winking at her. She pretended to swoon.
“I knew I could count on my husband, but this? The support is more than my little heart can take!” she sighed, turning dramatically away from them. She snuck a glance at Hizashi, a familiar question in her eyes. “I guess this makes you my husband’s husband? My husband in law? First husband, twice removed?”
Hizashi’s smile stiffened. “I’ve told you that just my name is fine.”
“Great! Well, anyway I’ll be testing out some new acts tonight, so let me know what you guys think, okay?”
Now that was an easy thing to agree to. Back in their U-A days, she and Hizashi had been part of the Theatre Club together. Though she preferred to audition for comedies, they both shared a flair for the dramatic that had made them great stage companions. They would spend hours after school practicing their lines together, and when Shouta eventually joined them in their second year in the form of stage crew, he became their test audience.
Fond memories and genuine encouragement warmed the blond’s tone when he told her, “Break a leg.”
Her grin was nearly blinding as she shot some finger guns back at him. “Bust a gut.”
It wasn’t until halfway through her routine, when the crowd was agreeable and her cheeks were flushed from the spotlight, that Hizashi noticed it. She was telling a story about a time she got chased down four city blocks by a lapdog. He heard a soft huff to his left.
There, in the dim lighting of the comedy club where it was impossible for anyone to see, Shouta was smiling, looking somehow both amused and tender at once as he gazed up at their old friend.
Hizashi’s heart twists, wrapping itself around the complicated emotions he’s always held towards Emi as redirects his gaze towards the stage.
Just Between Them
Shouta’s reasons for not liking Toshinori had always been a little hazy. He never really went into explicit detail about his distaste for the proclaimed Symbol of Peace, even with Hizashi, because he was never the type to speak ill of someone behind their back, but he said enough to imply that they had a fundamental disagreement in teaching styles.
Still, dangerous experiences brought people together; heroes were no exception. So it came as no surprise that Shouta warmed up to Toshinori after the USJ incident and even moreso after the learned of his true form.
What was surprising however was how well they seemed to get along now. Still not best friends by any stretch of the imagination, but Shouta went out of his way to invite the new teacher places, extending a welcome whenever some of the faculty went out for lunch. In return, Toshinori seemed to seek out Shouta for teaching advice and generally amiable conversation whenever Shouta seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood to tolerate idle chatter.
Hizashi was genuinely happy about this development. A strong advocate for teamwork and getting along with others, it pleased him to see his husband playing nice with other heroes, especially in such tumultuous times as U-A faced.
That didn’t quash the tendrils of jealousy rearing up from his gut when he saw them together.
During third period one day, Hizashi was planning on giving his class a pop quiz, but as he passed them out, he realized he was a few copies short. Giving his class a stern look, he made them promise to sit quietly while he ran to make more.
As he skidded into the teacher’s lounge, he overhead voices speaking in quiet tones. As he awakened the copy machine from sleep mode, he glanced up to see Shouta and Toshinori loitering by the coffee machine. They seemed to be deep in conversation, though about what he couldn’t tell from there.
A few button presses later and the copy machine was whirring to life. Figuring he had a minute until the copies were complete, he decided to say hello.
“Yo, Eraser! All Might,” he called, wiggling his fingers when they turned at the sound of his voice.
“Ah, good morning, Present Mic,” Toshinori replied with a polite nod of his head. His respectful mannerisms seemed so at odds with his larger than life hero persona, but it was a lot better than being obnoxiously rude like Endeavor.
“Morning, Mic.”
The copier begins to spit out at its usual slow, only sometimes reliable pace. Hizashi tapped his fingers impatiently against the machine.
“Sooo,” he drawled, eyeing their proximity. Shouta usually didn’t like standing so close to people if he could help it. “What were you two talking about over there?”
It was an innocent question, or at least it should have been, but then the strangest thing happened: the two pros shared a furtive glance. Toshinori seemed flustered the way he always did when trying to come up with a lie, and Shouta looked markedly amused, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile.
“Nothing really. Just discussing a few of my students,” Shouta told him easily, waving off the inquiry.
Logically, Hizashi knew that it probably involved Toshinori’s obvious favorite, Midoriya. Jealousy wasn’t rational though, so he turned away to hide the ugly twist to his lips.
“Ah, of course!” He replied neutrally, snatching up his still warm quizzes. “Well, I have a class to return to, so gotta jet. See ya guys later!”
If he slammed the door behind him on the way out, well, then it couldn’t be helped.
Love and Laughter
“What’s wrong?”
Hizashi looked down to find Shouta staring at him, head resting comfortably on his chest as they lay in bed, legs tangled together.
“What makes you think something’s wrong, babe?”
Shouta released a huff of frustration. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been tense all week.”
Hizashi grimaced. In hindsight, he should have known better than to expect to hide something from his partner, but he was still ashamed of himself for being so obvious about it. A small part of it recognized Shouta’s perception as a show of affection, a sign that he knew him well and cared enough to notice when something was wrong. The thought soothed him.
“It’s just… I’ve been thinking, right?” He started, speaking slowly to stall for time while he chose his next words. “When we first met, I used to make you laugh all the time. In fact, sometimes it felt like no one else in the world could make you smile as much as I did.”
There was a curiosity to Shouta’s answering hum, but all he said was, “That’s not how I remember it, but sure.”
“Maybe not,” Hizashi conceded. “But that’s how it felt to me. I considered it a huge success whenever I got you to crack a smile.”
“Where are you going with this?”
Hizashi blew out a puff of air and ran his fingers over his lover’s scalp. He spent a minute carefully picking out the words he wanted to use before deeming them all useless; he blurted out instead, “I’m a little jealous at how you’ve been smiling at literally everyone but me lately.”
Shouta stared at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
He sat up, adjusting himself so that he was seated comfortably on his partner’s lap. “Seriously, Hizashi?” he repeated, lips twitching.
“I already said it once, Shouta. Please don’t make me repeat myself,” he grumbled, twisting his face into a pout even as his arms wrap around Shouta’s waist. “You just don’t get how valuable your smiles are.”
“Apparently not.” The muscles in his cheeks jumped as he tried his damnedest to suppress his laughter. Even if it was at his own expense, Hizashi couldn’t help but admire the expression.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you get along with other people because it just proves to the world that you’re really the big softie I know you to be-”
A snort escaped Shouta. “Tell that to the kids at school.”
Hizashi huffed. “That’s different. That’s just… strategic meanness. Tough love is still a kind of love.”
“Perhaps, but we’re getting a little off-topic now, ‘Zashi. Quit stalling.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He sighed, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck.
“I don’t mean to get jealous,” he mumbled in the warm skin beneath his lips. “I know it isn’t logical and I know you hate irrational things, but I can’t help that I feel it sometimes. Your smile means a lot to me, and I just feel like I haven’t gotten to see it as much as I used to. I want to be the one who puts it back on your face. I want to know that I’m making you happy.”
Shouta body shuddered in his lap, but Hizashi barely had time to feel confused when he heard a hearty burst of laughter escape his husband’s chest.
“Wha-?”
He pulled back just enough to stare in wonder as Shouta laughed hysterically, rare tears appearing as specks at the corner of his eyes as he shook with mirth. Hizashi wanted to feel offended, to ask what was so funny, but he couldn’t find any anger in him when the love of his life had such pure… joy on his face.
Eventually, Shouta calmed enough to speak, gently cradling Hizashi’s face in his hands as he spoke. “You idiot,” he said fondly. “How can you ever doubt that you make me happy?”
Hizashi felt his cheeks flush under Shouta’s unwavering gaze.
“Next time you feel those irrational feelings, I want you to remember this moment, so that you can fight those doubts. I love you, Hizashi. You make me happy, and you always have. I may not always show it externally because well, that just isn’t me. The idea that other people make me happier than you is laughable. Don’t you ever forget that, got it?”
He punctuated his statement with a firm press of their lips, as though he could push all his love and reassurance through to his husband’s thick skull. Hizashi’s hand came to rest at the back of his head to deepen the kiss.
By the time they pulled away, both men were beaming.