Archive of Our Own

Shouta didn’t have the most stellar childhood. It started out fine—his parents a little bit young but not too young—his dad having a steady job. His mother taking care of him. Neither of his parents had been particularly social, but Shouta’s dad was generally well-loved. He also heard many times, according to his mother (the words weren’t so kind anymore when she spoke them), he was a lot like his dad. From the general appearance to his personality, though his dad was a bit more open.

Not that it mattered. At age five, everything went crashing down. His dad was killed as a civilian during a villain hostage situation—he got crowned a hero for saving so many lives despite not being a licenced hero. Not that his mother cared about that. She suddenly was alone, with no source of money, with a kid who was every inch of her beloved husband. And then, of course, Shouta’s quirk had to kick in. His father’s quirk. After that, kind words were exchanged for insults. Her love for his dad turned into hatred, he had heard her scream at nothing, screaming that he had left her with a child. Not that she didn’t yell at him. She thought it was his fault that her life was miserable, that the beatings he got were what he deserved it.

Not that school brought him any peace. In school, people were scared of him. From his cheap clothes to his quirk—erasing other quirks. They told him to his face that he was made to become a villain. No father, a poor, grieving mother, unsocial and a villain-like quirk. And after hearing it for years, Shouta started to believe it. Because what good hero was hated by their own mother? Was considered a villain by both their peers and teachers? Heroes were heroic, with bright appearances, loads of fans and awesome quirks.

There was one thing that kept him going through all of it. His drive to prove them all wrong and become a hero, saving lives while leaving the rest in the dust. Because he couldn’t be a villain. Villains were always depicted as cruel and heartless, unable to love. Shouta wasn’t sure if he could love a human being. He didn’t love his mother, and the lack of love was mutual. He liked the memory of his father, but at some point in time, it started to fade. His classmates and teachers tried to stay away from, so that definitely couldn’t be classified as love, even in a platonic sense. But there was always someone in need, people Shouta had never met. They didn’t have an opinion of him. For them, he would be a hero who would save their life one day.

Also, no matter how silly his kid logic was, there were the stray cats. His mother didn’t like animals, so he never had pets, but there were always stray cats in the alleyway close to their home. They liked him. Because he wasn’t the bad son or the guy with the scary quirk. He was the one who gave them food, petted them, gave them blankets and boxes to sleep in.

They liked him, maybe loved him, and it gives Shouta the boost he needed to ignore all the pain and hurt around him. He had a reason to continue, to become a hero. The lives he could save, whenever as just being Shouta, the cat-loving kid, or the hero, with maybe the unconventional quirk, but he was a good guy. He still needed a hero name though—but first, he had to get into a hero course to get close to achieving his dreams.

~*~

U.A. High School is the school for teenagers to blossom into heroes. If you were lucky enough to get into the hero course, of course. Shouta, with his non-offensive quirk, didn’t stand a chance at getting in. So he was dumped into the general course. He had top grades, was physically fit and was at the top of the class. Yet he hadn’t proved himself enough to be transferred to the hero course. The opportunity hadn’t been there yet.

Yet.

The Sports Festival— a U. A.’s annual event—was the opportunity Shouta had been craving for. It turned out that the hero course had many amazing people, with amazing quirks, but their hand-to-hand combat was lousy. Shouta made it to the finals and was moved to hero class 1B. It wasn’t 1A—which had been more promising according to the gossip—but Shouta didn’t care. He could become a hero, even with his villain-like quirk and ‘heartless’ personality.

~*~

Becoming a hero hadn’t made him as happy as he had expected. He spent most hours working at night, trying to get a steady income. He didn’t even have a proper hero name. At some point, they had started to call him The Silver Fox, and it had stuck. A ‘small’ (Shouta wasn’t small) person, who snuck gracefully through the alleyways in the dark, pounces on its pray and finished the fight swiftly and quietly.

He was okay with the job—his agency kept quiet about his personal life, which was a relief. But in the end, he was mostly lonely. Daytime was spent sleeping and taking care of the stray cats, and night-time was working. He hadn’t made close friends in U.A., and the heroes in his agency didn’t bother with each other. It was a part of the agencies image.

The day a disaster was called in—collapsed buildings, hundreds of people buried underneath it—Shouta’s life was changed for the better.

His quirk wasn’t made for rescue work, but his agency was close-by to where the disaster had happened. He was young, physically fit, and they needed as many heroes as possible to dig out those people, save lives.

Saving lives. That’s why he became a hero. To save lives that needed to be saved. Just like he needed to be saved back when he was a kid, but nobody did. (Okay, it wasn’t exactly the same, but still, one hero could make the difference).

He was going to save people, even if it meant he was lifting up rubble and stone till his fingers bled.

~*~

On the site of the disaster, a whole array of heroes had assembled. Most of them were still young. They were the lower-ranked heroes; the ones the city could miss for a few days.

When the duos were announced—for safety reasons nobody was allowed to enter the disaster site alone—Shouta didn’t recognise hero he was teaming up with. Admittedly, Shouta was mostly familiar with the big names. Endeavor, All Might, Best Jeanist. Present Mic was completely and utterly unknown to him.

As the safety instructions were given and the heroes scrambled, trying to find their partner, Shouta lazily waited for the other guy—he supposed it was a guy—to show up.

It was times like these Shouta reflected on his childhood. He had learned to love a bit. Just a tiny bit. He loved animals the most, cats especially. But he didn’t hate all humans. His neighbour was kind, and there had been a few students at U.A. who had been kind to him. That was platonic love. But romantic love just never had been there for him. He never had seen a person and felt like he was a fairy-tale princess, swooning over his prince charming.

Present Mic apparently was his prince charming, and Shouta felt his heart give a sickening lurch.

The man was gorgeous. His blond hair was tied back into a man-bun, his eyes, which were a brilliant shade of green, were framed by glasses. A bright smile was plastered on his lips, a smile reflected in his eyes. He was loud, bright and obnoxious, and he successfully stole Shouta’s breath. And maybe, in a belated afterthought, his heart.

“You’re The Silver Fox? I thought you would be… older.”

“I don’t look that old,” Shouta muttered. He was twenty-two.

Present Mic let out a loud laugh. “Then why the hero name?”

Shouta shrugged. “People call me that sometimes. Because I work during the night?”

Present Mic stared at him owlishly, his bright gaze making Shouta nervous. This was going to be a long day.

“So you don’t have an actual hero name?” Present Mic asked, his voice loud but surprisingly kind. He wasn’t judgemental about the fact Shouta was some kind of unknown hero.

“What’s your quirk?” Present Mic asked without missing a beat. “I don’t think you have a mutation.”

Shouta was hesitant to give Present Mic the information about his quirk. That could be used against him. However, they were supposed to team up, and by the looks of it, Present Mic didn’t have a mutation quirk either. So in case of distress, he could erase Present Mic’s quirk (which was probably sound related—considering his name).

“Erasure of quirks,” Shouta muttered.

Present Mic’s eyes grew big. “Like, temporary or forever?”

“Temporary.”

This time, Present Mic’s eyes lit up with excitement. Shouta was fucked. He was so pretty.

 “That’s so useful. Like, you could just deactivate my quirk if it gets dangerous,” Present Mic paused. “Could you deactivate my quirk?”

Shouta really didn’t want to, but on the other hand, he knew that refusal probably would lead to whining.

Staring at Present Mic, he flicked the mental switch. His hair flies back, his capture weapon fluttered around him and his eyes starting to sting a little. The reason he was available in the first place was that he was on medical. Though, on the other hand, he wasn’t supposed to use his quirk here.

Present Mic tried to belt out a few notes, but he remained quiet, lips were forming words, but there was no noise.

Blinking to break his quirk, he winced at the high-pitched noise Present Mic emitted. Voice quirk, noted.

“That was awesome,” Present Mic said. “So it works with vision? You have to see them? Shouldn’t you wear goggles to hide your eyes? It would be to your advantage.”

That was actually pretty brilliant. In the dark, people couldn’t really see where he was looking. But in daylight, with a somewhat smart opponent, he eventually would be figured out. Goggles would make that much harder.

“That’s pretty smart, the goggles things,” Shouta admitted, fidgeting on the spot.

He wasn’t really comfortable. He wasn’t a people person, and he rarely had a proper conversation with people. Did this count as a conversation?

“Eraser Head,” Present Mic suggest. “That fits better than The Silver Fox—you aren’t old enough for that, yet.”

Shouta shrugged, “I will consider it,” he said, though he mentally had accepted the name. Somebody had been kind enough to give him a hero name. Somebody who barely knew him. And it was a decent name too.

“Time to go,” Present Mic almost shouted, eyes lingering on a spot behind Shouta. “People to save, rubbish to clean, trying to not get fired.”

Shouta’s heart leapt when Present Mic grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the rubbish. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a few of the organisers staring at them, some disapprovingly, others grinning. It must have looked like they have been flirting—Shouta actually had flirted with another human being, a human being way out of his league.

Now he understood why he worked during the night. Less sunlight, fewer people and less bright smiles that made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

~*~

Present Mic—or Yamada Hizashi as the hero had insisted—was an enigma. Shouta had spent three shifts with him working through the rubble, saving civilians, retrieving bodies (which was never fun), and cleaning up the disaster site. And yet, he was no closer to figure out who Yamada was.

On the surface, he seemed to be loud, oblivious and generally happy-go-lucky. He could be the picture-perfect ‘blonds have fun’. Till you talked with him. He was bright, clever and witty. He appreciated Shouta’s sense of humour, and he took his work awfully seriously. Soothing parents that their kids were safe, comforting kids, letting them ride on his back. And the pets, the pets.

Shouta knew that he was fucked the moment Yamada had dug up a cat. The poor thing looked a bit grey due to the debris and was meowing in distress. Understandably so, he wouldn’t have been happy either.  But instead of letting the cat go, which Shouta would have done despite the urge to cuddle it, Hizashi cooed at it, scratching its head and had cleaned off the debris of the cat. Yamada liked cats. That was like, the only criteria Shouta had. Like cats. That’s it.

Long story short, Shouta felt like he was a teenager again and he found a litter of kittens he fell he had fallen smack-dab in love with. Only loving kittens was easier than falling in love with a guy he knew, well, three days?

Yet, despite reasoning, knowing that it was ridiculous to fall for a guy in three days, there was no denying the attraction. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be lying awake after a late night patrol, wondering if he would ever meet Yamada again. Based on the numbers, the chance was unlikely. They didn’t have the same patrol schedules, and meeting each other as civilians were unlikely. And that was just based on the fact Shouta was a hermit and spent most of the daytime sleeping.

Probably, it would take time. Give him a week, and Yamada Hizashi will be a forgotten memory, and Shouta could move on with his life. His confusing feelings long forgotten and the entirety of his heart would belong to his cats. After all, cats were safe and didn’t steal his heart away, effortlessly. (The week needed to be over soon, as this was bad for his heart).

~*~

Two weeks later, Shouta knew he was royally fucked. Because he hadn’t forgotten about Yamada Hizashi. However, there was one sliver of hope for him. He could easily just be horny. Yamada was handsome, he was just twenty-two-years-old, and he hadn’t gotten laid in a year-and-a-half. Yamada’s pleasant personality was also a bonus, but still, it was just his body deciding that Yamada would be a good bedmate. (Though the idea of only seeing Yamada one night in his bed was slightly sickening—why did his heart want more?)

In the end, he was a moron and didn’t know himself as well as he had believed. (Or his heart was a good judge of character, and his denial game was too strong). Because if he stayed in denial, if it wasn’t there, it couldn’t hurt him. If he simply believed that he wasn’t meant for love, he wouldn’t have to fear for his heart to be stolen.

~*~

“Aizawa?”

Shouta was pretty sure it was 4 ‘o clock, in the morning, and that nobody in their right mind should be out of bed. Unless you had a garbage sleep schedule like him. Based on that logic, Yamada had a bad sleeping schedule.

Looking up from the cat-food he was browsing, he saw Yamada standing a dozen-or-so foot away. He was carrying a shopping basket, already filled with items but Shouta didn’t have it in him to categorise the items like he usually did. He spent more time staring at the pair of bright pink sweats Yamada was wearing, or the long, blond hair that fell well past his shoulders.

Shouta was officially, very, very gay.

“Aizawa?” Yamada repeated, voice surprisingly quiet. Somehow his mind had adjusted to the fact that Yamada was always loud, and that this the loudness was his normal. Quietness felt off.

“It’s Ya—”

“Yamada Hizashi, yes,” Shouta snapped, feeling guilt hitting him the moment he saw Yamada’s crestfallen expression.

Good job, Shouta thought, mentally patted himself on the shoulder. Now he thinks you hate him.

Shouta did hate him a little, but that was more blaming Yamada for how he felt. Yamada himself had done nothing wrong, he couldn’t know that Shouta fell for the faintest hint of kindness. (This was a lie. He had met plenty of nice people before, people he found physically attractive. He honestly had no idea what made Yamada special).

“Sorry,” he muttered, picking up the cat food he needed. “I just didn’t expect to ever see you again.”

Yamada cracked a smile, but it wasn’t quite there yet. It was sad to realise he had committed Yamada’s smile to memory after just three days.

“Me neither,” Yamada said.

The conversation lapsed into silence. Shouta wasn’t the one to keep a conversation going. He always had been socially awkward—though Yamada made him feel like he wasn’t. The rescue operation was probably the most time he had spent with another human being and talked with them.

“How is the cat?” Shouta blurted out, recalling Yamada had taken in the cat after her owners hadn’t made it out alive.

Yamada’s face lit up, the right smile formed on his lips. “She is doing great, got her litter a couple of days ago. Three little ones. Wait, I’ve got pictures.

Wait, the cat was pregnant? And Hizashi still took her in?

Shouta melted at the picture of three fluffy balls pressed against their mother. One was black like the mother, while the other two were a greyish colour. They probably would fit in the palm of his hands.

“They’re so small,” Shouta whispered, feeling himself grow flustered. He hadn’t seen kittens this young before. Usually, he discovered them when they were old enough to see and stumble around a bit, making their presence known with soft meowing.

“I know right,” Yamada said, excitement making his voice louder. They got a nasty glare from the cashier. “My friends are more dog people, so I can’t really share the excitement with them. I mean, you do like cats, right?”

“Yes?” Shouta said, a little unsure. “I have three myself. My neighbour tells me I’m gunning to become a cat lady if I keep this up.”

“You’re single?”

Wait, what?

He nodded, “Did you seriously think I had a boyfriend?”

“Of course I did,” Yamada said, sounding slightly offended. As if Shouta being single was a crime. “I’m not blind.”

Well, it was reassuring that Yamada at least found him attractive, though he wondered what was even attractive about him. His creepy smile? His tangled hair? His best ‘features’ were hidden behind a baggy layer of clothes.

“You’re the one wearing glasses.”

Yamada shrugged. “Yeah, well, they’re more practical than contact. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have known my eye-sight is shit. I didn’t choose for my eyes to go bad at such an early age.”

“How bad?”

“You aren’t getting my glasses.”

Shouta rolled his eyes.

“I was talking about ‘I need them to drive a car, but that’s it’ or ‘I can just read my phone without them’ kind of bad.”

He took his glasses out of his pocket, waving them in front of Yamada’s face. “For driving.”

For a while, Yamada just stared. Shouta imagined the gears turning in his head—though he wondered what was so special about glasses. With Shouta’s quirk, he was doomed to ruin his eyes eventually.

“They are… yellow?” Yamada said.

Shouta shrugged. “They picked the frame, I didn’t really care.”

He wasn’t going to mention the fact he was actually quite fond of them. They inspired his hero-goggles (he still had to thank Yamada for the idea). They had been quite useful, though there hadn’t been quite the life-and-dead situation where they had made the difference.

Shouta picked up the glare the cashier was sending them. He wasn’t surprised at her annoyance, they were having a conversation in a supermarket, at four-thirty in the morning.

“It’s four-thirty,” Shouta mentioned, not sure what to do with the conversation.

He didn’t want the conversation to end, he really enjoyed it. Yamada kept up with him, their banter was fun, and he liked cats. Apparently, cats were a deal breaker for him.

“Right,” Yamada grew a little flustered. “Uhm, you want to exchange numbers? To keep you updated on the kittens.”

He didn’t even hesitate. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Yamada. Maybe he didn’t quite have so innocent reasons—though his mind started to see the appeal of having Yamada as a permanent bed partner—but he also wanted to see the kittens. Guys who showed him pictures of cats were golden in his books.

“There you go,” Yamada said, handing Shouta his phone back.

Yamada had put himself under his civilian name. It wasn’t surprising, Shouta—or his hero persona Eraser Head—and Present Mic had little in common with one another, so it would be weird to find that name in his contacts. Plus, he liked Yamada more like this—without the crazy hairdo and tinted glasses (a quick internet search had given him a solid picture of the hero).

“Don’t forget to text me,” Yamada chirped, voice almost booming in the otherwise quiet supermarket. “Otherwise you’re missing out on the kitten pictures.”

It almost sounded like a code-word for something way dirtier, but Shouta was expecting nothing else but pictures of the three fluff-balls and their mother. If not, he was going to be incredibly disappointed with Yamada. (Well, he wouldn’t mind seeing Yamada naked, but kittens).

~*~

“Aizawa, I need a big, big favour.”

It was the first time they had talked in six weeks. They had texted a lot—something Shouta was more comfortable with than talking—but neither of them had bothered to make plans or call each other. The casual friendship had been fine for both of them, apparently.

Yamada’s call was a surprise, but Shouta wasn’t cruel enough to not pick up, even though his feelings for Yamada had settled in a more… solid form. A solid form called ‘crushing like a fucking teenager’. He could no longer sell his attraction as lust—not after the picture of Yamada being buried under kittens, fast asleep. The picture had been made by one of his friends—Tensei if Shouta recalled correctly. Nonetheless, he had looked adorable, and it had just clicked for Shouta. Feelings sucked.

It honestly was hard to believe that Yamada was actually single. He was the definition of a husband. (Or for Shouta, Yamada was husband material if he wasn’t so against marriage. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake his mother made and get married. Marriage wasn’t even required anymore nowadays. Only child-custody could get a bit nasty, but they were both guys, so they were safe from unplanned pregnancies).

“A favour your friends can’t help you with?” Shouta asked, not even bothering to stifle a yawn. He had returned from patrol only a few hours ago and had been fast asleep.

“Nemuri’s place doesn’t allow cats and Tensei has to babysit his little brother. I have to get out of town for work, and I don’t want to leave the kittens on their own.”

This was called a favour? Towards who? Because Shouta didn’t even have to hesitate. Babysitting kittens were the best favour anyone has ever asked him.

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Shouta answered, blessing whatever was watching over him to make sure his excitement wasn’t noticeable. “Unless my cats decide to be demons, but they generally have a good judgement.”

Exhibit A: Patches hissing at what would have been Shouta’s date/hook-up. Three days later the guy was arrested for theft and damage of public property.

Exhibit B: Freckles (don’t judge his naming skills), had a never-ending beef with his previous neighbour. Turned out she was cooking up some illegal quirk-enhancer.

When Yamada spoke again, it sounded he was close to tears of relief.

“I will be forever in your debt. I have to leave tonight, which is a bit of a short notice. Will it be okay?”

Instead of checking his non-existing agenda, he sent Yamada his address.

“I just send you my address,” he said as if Yamada didn’t notice the text popping up. “Drop by whenever you have time. Though I probably will take a while to answer—getting out bed is…difficult.”

Yamada straight up laughed and yeah, Shouta was fucked. Because it was loud, slightly annoying, but oh-so genuine. Especially the awkward snorts that followed, which were cut short with Yamada muting the phone.

He had issues. Yamada related issues. And Yamada effortlessly exploiting his love for cats.

“I’m back, sorry,” Yamada’s voice was a bit too loud—quirk control must be a drag with one like Yamada’s—but Shouta didn’t care. There was still a smile in his voice. “My voice can get a bit loud sometimes, didn’t want to blast out your eardrums.”

“It’s fine, wouldn’t be the worst that happened to me.”

He slipped, and noticing the silence that followed, Yamada had picked up on it too. His childhood was securely packed away in the back of his mind, memories that he refused to ever relive again.

“I will be there soon. How much space do you have?”

Relieved that Yamada let it slide, Shouta casts a look across his living room. There wasn’t much there, he never been the one to make a house extremely personal. He didn’t have many pictures, and the one of his dad and his graduation class were kept in his bedroom. The rest of the items was laundry, cat-toys, boxes the cats liked to sit in, and the big scratch post that was tucked away in the corner.

“Loads, though I have plenty of cat things myself. But we’ll sort things out once you get here.”

Yamada agreed with him and wished him goodbye.

Once the line fell flat, Shouta placed his phone on the coffee table and curled up in his bright-yellow (there seemed to be a theme) sleeping bag. He had been too tired to actually fall into bed, but his couch was fine. It was comfortable.

~*~

Shouta patted himself on the shoulder not doing anything stupid when Yamada arrived, and include cooing over the kittens who were awfully cute didn’t count.

The kittens were adorable, and Shouta almost adopted them on the spot. (He still had offhandedly mentioned it to Yamada that he was interested in adopting a kitten or two).

~*~

“Have you already found a home for these guys?” Shouta asked offhandedly as he helped Yamada pack up his stuff, though he spends more time playing with the kittens. They were about eight weeks old by now, ready for adoption.

Yamada had been away for two weeks for work. Shouta had updated him on the kittens and cats’ well-being almost daily, though his photography skills were average at best. Yamada had been overjoyed nonetheless with the pictures, often mentioning how cute the kittens looked, and how content his cats looked in Shouta’s apartment.

“Not really,” Yamada admitted sheepishly, scratching Bella behind her ear. It seemed Bella loved Yamada more than she loved Shouta, which was a slight betrayal. “I’m keeping one of them myself, together with Luna.” Luna was the mum of the litter. “But four extra cats are a bit too much at once.”

“I can take two.”

Yamada stopped mid-motion, thankfully setting the box back on the floor and not dropping it.

“Are you serious?” Yamada sounded as shocked as he looked. “I can find another home for them, you don’t have to—”

Shouta rolled his eyes. “Yamada,” he said. “I really want to adopt them. They’re cute. I would keep them all if I had the money and space for more.”

And if I didn’t want to look like a crazy cat lady—gent.

Yamada’s eyes were a bright green. His entire face was alive, framed by his messy, blond hair. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

“That would be great.” Yamada had abandoned his work, sitting down on the floor and trying to catch Patches’ attention. “I could sleep better if knew two of these guys were in a good home,” there was a pause in which Yamada was clearly weighing his options. “A home I might see them in sometimes.”

It was hopeful, and Shouta was weak for that hope. He wouldn’t mind seeing more of Yamada, even if it meant he would only fall harder for him.

“Of course you can visit, I—”

I what? I want to see more of you? I like your presence? I’m a masochist for letting you come this close to me. I don’t want to separate you from your children—err, kittens.

Shouta decided that remaining quiet was the best way to go. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, so silence was a given. Yamada did see it as a yes and blissfully didn’t push. It seemed Yamada was good at that, giving Shouta the space he needed.

Yamada filled the room with chatter as they packed the last thing. It was very soothing, listening to Yamada talking. Shouta recalled that Yamada had a radio show, so maybe he should look that one up. Even if he didn’t like the type of music that Yamada loved, he still would enjoy hearing him speak, even if it was exaggerated for the show.

Helping Yamada bringing the cages and boxes to his car, Shouta wondered how he would depart with Yamada. Would he be brave enough to kiss? Or just a hug? Though hugging somehow felt more imitate than kissing, because hugging was a lot more personal than kissing, for him at least.

By the time they had packed everything in Yamada’s car—which looked more like metal-on-wheels—Shouta had mentally set on a shoulder-part, and a hug if Yamada initiated it. No wonder he never had a proper date before, he sucked at flirting. Not that his parents were a role model for healthy relationships. Well, mostly his mother.

“Once again, I’m so grateful, for everything.” Yamada was leaning against his car, looking every inch of an American bad-boy, if it hadn’t been for the more subdued smile and bright eyes behind orange-stained sunglasses. “You babysitting the cats, adopting two of the kittens—make sure to drop by to make a pick. They will get another round of shots next week.”

Shouta shrugged, not sure how to react. He knew he was slightly flustered, but that could be blamed on the weather. It hadn’t even been a chore, baby-sitting Yamada’s cat and kittens. It was low-key paradise seeing so many cats in one place. (He had issues). Plus, he had an excuse to see Yamada more, as he rarely had the time to meet up nor the guts to ask Yamada to meet up.

“Like I said, it was no problem. I like cats.”

Yamada’s expression shifted, and he moved away from the thing he dares to call a car. “Just the cats?”

The insecurity and smallness of Yamada’s voice was a surprise. Shouta always had assumed Yamada was a fountain of confidence. On the other hand, that just showed how little he knew about Yamada. Most things were just assumptions, based on stereotypes and expectations.

Grinning, he shook his head. His grin looked like a wicked smirk, at least that was others had told him. He didn’t have a pretty smile. But he knew that showing a bit of emotion would probably ease Yamada. Or it would frighten him enough that he would turn around and jump into the car.

Yamada didn’t seem to mind his grin, just smiling in return and looking relieved. He apparently tried to hide it, but he did a poor job at it. However, Shouta noticed that it wasn’t just relief written over his face. There were nerves—as if he was trying to psych himself up for something. Maybe he wanted to tell Shouta that his smile was creepy? He wouldn’t blame him, though Yamada seemed almost too kind to tell him that.

“I’m sorry,” Yamada said suddenly. “But I really have to ask—it has been on my mind for too long.”

Yet there was no question. At least not for a while, not until Yamada had managed to psych himself up to keep on talking. Shouta wasn’t even sure what Yamada wanted to ask. Maybe it was about the kittens? Maybe Yamada wanted to keep two of them?

“You’re single, right?”

Shouta frowned but nodded nonetheless.

“And you like guys?”

Once again, Shouta nodded. There was hope, for a moment, but it was way more likely that Yamada knew someone who was looking for a date. The prospect of actually dating Yamada frightened him. He never had dated anyone, and he doubted he would ever let anyone else in after falling apart from Yamada (which would most likely happen—how often was a first relationship the end-game? This wasn’t a fairy-tale).

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Yamada blurted out, face scarlet. “You don’t have to. You can still get the kittens if you say no, so don’t feel like you’re forced. I just like you.”

Shouta was left jaw-dropped and not sure how to respond. Yamada had explicitly mentioned the ‘date’ part. It wasn’t just dinner as a thank-you, or a hook-up—Shouta had these offers before—but a god-honest date.

It took him awfully long to collect himself and his thoughts. Yamada had started to fidget, looking more nervous by each passing second.

Daring himself to be a bit brave—just a little bit—Shouta pulled Yamada in a hug. He was stiff, and Yamada’s hair tickled his nose and made him want to sneeze. But his muttered ‘yes’ was enough for Yamada, who whole-heartedly returned Shouta’s lousy attempt for a hug.

~*~

Their first date sort of didn’t happen. It was a dinner date. Nothing too fancy according to Yamada—eh, Hizashi. It was Hizashi now, just like he had become Shouta instead of Aizawa. Was it really only three months ago that they met? He wasn’t on first-name base with many people if any at all (his cats didn’t count, they just knew him as their food source and the one who gave them ear scratches).

Anyway, the reason the date didn’t happen was Hizashi’s fault (not that Shouta had tried to stop him). Hizashi, on the other hand, blamed Shouta for looking too good.

~*~

Shouta hated how much he tried. Hizashi had mentioned that it was a casual date. He knew that Hizashi had to like him for what he was, and not what he could be. But that didn’t mean he oozed confidences. Waking up somewhere late in the morning—his patrol schedule was only half-decent—Shouta had checked himself out in the mirror. He looked awful.

Tangled hair, a rough stubble, eyes bloodshot and droopy. The clothes he wore were baggy and so not flattering. Not that he exactly knew what was flattering. But it isn’t like he had anyone to call, his mother was out of the question, and his neighbour was a sweet, elderly lady who would just be happy that Shouta got a date. Unless…

It was one ‘o clock in the afternoon, on a Saturday. She must be awake, and free. If she didn’t have a date (which seemed likely, Shouta recalled she was a gorgeous woman. He’s gay, not blind).

Checking his phone, he looked up an old classmate’s number. Now it was hoping to the fact she hadn’t changed numbers over the years. How long has it been, four years?

Before he could change his mind—he really needed some advice, or he would have to open that door in a pair of baggy jeans and an old t-shirt because he was comfortable in those—he dialled the number of an old friend.

“Aizawa, is that really you?” Came Kayama Nemuri’s voice from the other side of the line. “It has been so long. I almost thought you were dead, you’re never on the news.”

Shouta was relieved that Kayama hadn’t changed her number, though the questions were less than favourable. Though he should have expected them. Kayama was the chattier type, and four years of radio silence must have made her curious.

“Yeah, it’s Aizawa,” he confirmed. “And you have seen me, probably. Eraser Head?”

Kayama remained surprisingly quiet, before snorting. This was nice. It was almost like they were back in high school, in which Shouta had been too gay to be physically into Kayama, which made their friendship purely platonically.

“An underground hero? Can’t say I’m surprised,” Kayama said. “The hero name fits you well. Who did come up with it?”

Shouta was honestly not even offended by Kayama. He was terrible with coming up names—just look at his poor cats.

Well, time to breach the reason why he called Kayama in the first place. “My date.”

“You have a date!” Kayawa was straight-up cackling. Calling her was a mistake. “A serious date, not a ‘hook-up with dinner’?”

“A serious date.”

“What happened to the Aizawa ‘I don’t date because I have too much baggage’ Shouta. Did he disappear?”

Honestly, Shouta wasn’t sure where that one was. He had decided after his parent’s failed marriage—well mostly his mother’s failed mothering—that nothing good could come out of dating, or caring about people. And he had been doing well, till Hizashi.

“No, just.” How to explain Hizashi? It was way more than just a pretty face, his personality, the way he kept up with Shouta’s wit, wasn’t afraid to call him out. He loved cats (why did the cats keep popping up?) “He’s special, he makes me happy, and feel loved.”

He hadn’t even realised that it was true until he said it out loud. The good-morning texts, the silly cat-pictures. He had caught himself smiling at his phone too often, and not just when there were cat pictures. Hizashi was naturally charming.

Kayawa cooed, which was a bit embarrassing. “So let me guess, you need dating advice?”

“I don’t know what to wear. I want to look like I at least put effort.”

“Sweetie, if he wants to go on a date with you, he probably has accepted you as you.”

He knew that. But still, he could try to look a bit acceptable.

“I could come over if you still live in the neighbourhood.”

Shouta sends Kayawa his address.

“That’s pretty close to where I live,” Kayawa said. “I will drop by in a bit. Shower, and don’t forget to use conditioner!”

~*~

Kayama had left after he had promised he would text her with the results.

Hizashi would drop by in five minutes, and Shouta wondered whenever this had been a good idea or not. He looked, well, different.

His hair was a glossy, untangled and done up in a messy bun. His face felt a bit naked without his stubble, but it would grow back. Thankfully he had refused to let her apply makeup. While his imperfections—especially his semi-permanent bags—could need some touch-ups, he would feel too much unlike himself. Clothes-wise, Kayama had put him in a white button up he had forgotten he owned and in a pair of nice jeans.

He cleaned up well, he supposed, though he probably looked like he was trying too hard. What if Hizashi thought he was desperate?

There was no turning back when Hizashi knocked on the door, so Shouta gave himself a mental kick under his arse and hoped that he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like slamming the door in Hizashi’s face.

Honestly, slamming the door right in Hizashi’s face seemed to be very tempting. Because that guy couldn’t do anything wrong concerning his appearance, could he? His hair was done in a braid, loose strands framing his face. Clothes-wise, he was wearing well-fitting jeans, a white shirt with a leather jacket. He looked effortlessly handsome, and Shouta had the urge to crawl into bed and act as if this never happened. Hizashi probably had spent fifteen minutes on his appearance, while Shouta had been tortured for hours.

“You look nice,” Shouta mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Nice didn’t even cover it, but it was safe.

It seemed that Shouta’s words didn’t even register with Hizashi, as he just stared at Shouta. Had he tried too hard? Was Hizashi judging him?

“I feel underdressed,” Hizashi blurted out, gesturing to his own clothes. “You look handsome.”

Shouta hated how he grew flustered, nails now digging into his neck.

“Thanks, a friend helped with, well, everything?”

Hizashi took off his shoes and slipped into a pair of slippers, inviting himself in. Shouta was unsure what to do next, as he had expected they would immediately leave. But maybe Hizashi wanted something to drink.

“Miss your stubble though.”

Shouta shivered as Hizashi cupped his jaw with one hand, thumb stroking his freshly shaved skin. Then the other hand tucked away a strand of hair behind Shouta’s hair and—

And they were kissing.

He was pretty sure that kissing was supposed to happen after a date, but Shouta honestly couldn’t care. Hizashi could finish the kiss, say goodbye for the night and Shouta would be content (though he would rather have him stay).

He melted into the kiss, placing his hands on Hizashi’s hips.

The kiss was long but was soft and kind. Shouta couldn’t recall being kissed that gently. His hook-ups, which ever so few, were scattered with quick, hard kisses that held no emotional attachment whatsoever.

When they parted ways, Shouta couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips. Hizashi was grinning back, his eyes bright with joy.

The best kiss he had, in, well, ever.

“Didn’t we have a date?” Shouta teased, not even bothered if they were going to be late.

“Shit, right.” Hizashi cussed in English. This was an interesting development. “Sorry for kissing you—I usually wait till after the first date.”

Shouta rolled his eyes. This guy was smart, and yet he was blaming himself for something Shouta wasn’t even mad about.

“Hizashi, I kissed back, remember.”

“Right.”

Hizashi still looked a tad bothered, and Shouta had to remind himself that this guy wasn’t as confident as he had imagined. It must be scary for him too.

“We can order take-out?” Shouta suggested.

He wasn’t sure if this was the right way to steer the conversation, but it seemed that going out was on neither of their minds right now.

Hizashi’s face lit up. “Thai?”

“Thai it is.”

~*~

Kayama: How was your date ;)

Aizawa: unusual

Kayama: It was a dinner date, right?

Aizawa: does take-out count as a dinner date

Kayama: He got you take-out for dinner?

Aizawa: i did, your styling power was too great

Kayama: He liked it?!? Did you get laid?

Aizawa: we made out on the couch for an hour before ordering take-out

Kayama: I don’t understand you. You refuse to use proper punctuation, but you write your words full-out. Like, commit or don’t, but don’t half-and-half it.

Aizawa: you sound like a teacher

Kayama: I hate you.

Aizawa: i hate myself too

Kayama: Aizawa, seriously.

Kayama: You have a boyfriend.

Kayama: I’m jealous.

Aizawa: wait

Aizawa: shit

Aizawa: i might have a boyfriend. i need to confirm this

Aizawa: bye

Kayama: Wait a second.

Kayama: You were texting me while he is there?

Kayama: Are you an idiot?

Kayama: Aizawa?

Kayama: Aizawa?

Kayama: Please update me on your relationship.

Kayama: You fell asleep, didn’t you?

Kayama: I swear, if I don’t get an update before Midnight, I will kick your door down and haunt you.

Aizawa: we’re boyfriends

Aizawa: i feel like a teenager again

Aizawa: how does being a boyfriend work

Kayama: It’s nearly Midnight, go to sleep.

Aizawa: your puns aren’t funny. and I am not the one who needs their beauty sleep

Kayama Your boyfriend is a godsend.

Aizawa: i know

~*~

Shouta had known that if he took on morning patrol, he would run in way more trouble. Like heroes, villains wanted to show themselves off, and doing that during night time wasn’t quite the right way to go. Hence Shouta initially patrolled during dark. But the extra effort and media attention were worth being able to spend more time with Hizashi, especially as they were ‘officially’ a thing. (Kayama never stopped teasing him about it).

The media attention was annoying, and his eyes didn’t appreciate the extra usage. Only last week he had to pick up eye-drops to make his eyes less dry. But some things were totally worth about it. Spending time with Hizashi, for starters, and the kids.

Turned out Shouta had a soft spot for kids.  And kids caused plenty of problems. Most of them weren’t quite able to control their quirk properly. Shouta always had been blessed with being able to control his quirk quite well. But there were kids like Hizashi, who had mentioned he really struggled as a kid to control his voice and not blow everyone’s eardrums out.

He more often than not he had to erase the kid’s quirk. Actually, that’s why he had spent most of his patrol in family-friendly places, like parks, playgrounds, close to schools. He received mixed reactions from parents—some were grateful for Shouta somehow managing to stop their kid's quirk. Others were a bit more sceptical, often berating him for possibly harming their kid, or completely erasing their quirk.  Still, it more often it was worth interacting with kids.

So saving a kid from their own quirk was nothing new. Though it was the first time, one of the kids accidentally launched themselves off a bridge and towards a pond. The ducks already had scattered. The most common quirk incidents were accidentally breaking things, setting something on fire or accidentally harming another human being.

The situation was far from ideal. The good part was that the kid was safely wrapped in Shouta’s capture weapon, dangling a foot-or-so above the water. The bad part was, well, the rest. Shouta was hanging over the railing, feeling the wood digging into his stomach. Due to the bad weather, the bridge was slippery. He had no foothold whatsoever. Hoisting the kid up was going to be hard if he only could use his upper strength.

“Tenya!”  a voice hollered—probably the dad.

Heavy footsteps came to a halt next to Shouta, panting loudly.

“You got him,” the same guy said, sounding awfully relieved. “Wait, let me help you.”

Shouta was against civilians helping. It was a hero’s job, plus his insurance would skin him alive if he let a civilian get harmed.

“Can’t, hero work,” he grunted, trying to make some progress with hauling up the kid called Tenya.

“Licensed,” the guy said.

This was the sign for Shouta that he should let the guy do whatever he wanted. He had his own insurance.

The guy joined Shouta almost at the hip—they were about the same height—and got his hands on Shouta’s capture weapon, helping him haul Tenya up.

Shouta finally could get back on his feet, breathing in deeply. He was sure he was one of the more physically fit heroes out there, but today made him wonder whenever he should go on a jog more-often.

“Hand me your capture-weapon, my quirk can help,” the dad offered, and Shouta finally managed to look at him.

The guy was Shouta’s age, which made it unlikely that he was Tenya’s father. Probably brother, maybe a cousin? He was broader than Shouta, with short, blue-ish black hair and light eyes. And then Shouta noticed the engines poking out of his forearms. Oh.

Letting go of his capture weapon with one hand, he unwrapped it from his neck and threw it over the brother’s arm.

“Finished,” Shouta said.

The brother hummed. “You can let go, just make sure to catch him,” he said, offering Shouta a pat on the shoulder.

The brother’s engines must be strong because Tenya was pretty much launched up in the air. Shouta’s capture weapon, thankfully, managed to pull through (Kayama’s pun-game was rubbing off on him, this was bad) and didn’t rip when it was pulled with a lot of force.

The poor kid was flying through the air, though the shrieks were probably of joy, so he wasn’t too bad off.

Shouta caught Tenya as if he was as light as a feather (okay, maybe the jogging wasn’t necessary. On the other hand, Hizashi still needed to improve his stamina, so he always could add the extra jogging and work-out hours to his schedule).

“I like your goggles,” Tenya said.

Shouta had honestly forgotten he was wearing his goggles.

“Thanks, I like your glasses.”

The kid beamed at him.

“Nice catch,” the brother complimented

He jogging towards them, Shouta’s capture weapon was neatly draped over his arm. Shouta appreciated it, as untangling it was an absolute pain.

“Wasn’t too hard,” Shouta waved off, putting the kid on the ground. “Spend the last couple of weeks retrieving kids from trees. This was hardly a chore.”

Self-conscious that he was wearing a pair of bright yellow goggles for no reason whatsoever, Shouta slipped them off and let them hang around his neck. As the brother handed him his capture weapon, he wrapped it around his neck as if it was an oversized scarf. This was better, he was geared up again and could save another idiot (kid) from falling out of trees.

“Wait, now I know why you looked familiar,” the brother said suddenly, eyes bright with recognition. “You beat my ass during my first year Sport’s Festival—weren’t you in general studies?”

That could be possible. Shouta recalled that he had to fight a guy with an engine quirk in the semi-final in his first year. He won, and with that secured himself a spot in the hero course.

“Got transferred to 1B after the Sport’s Festival. It was Iida… something?”

“Iida Tensei—Aizawa Shouta, right?”

Shouta nodded. It was odd that anyone remembered him from high school, aside from the very few people he was somewhat friends with. And that was mostly Kayama.

“It was nice seeing you again. I should let you return to your duty, thank you from saving my brother,” Iida smiled sheepishly, holding tight on his brother’s scruff. Only now Shouta realised the kid had engines in his calves—that explained how he had managed to throw himself off the bridge so easily, and foremost, accidentally.

“Part of the job,” Shouta answered lamely. “He seems like a good kid.”

Iida’s entire face lit up. “He’s the best, he’s going to become an amazing hero one day.”

Tenya beamed at him, a few teeth were missing. “I’m going to be like big brother!”

Shouta crouched down and ruffled the kid’s hair. “He seems like a good guy,” he paused. “You probably would make him proud.”

~*~

“Hizashi,” Shouta complained, making a half-hearted attempt to break free from his hold. “This is sil—”

Shouta’s half-hearted attempt to protest was cut short when Hizashi dipped him—going to the gym together had been a good idea after all—and pulled him back up. Their noses were pretty much touching, and Hizashi didn’t hesitate to steal a kiss.

The poppy, English song kept on blaring in the back. Shouta had never heard it before and understood only little of it. But that didn’t deter Hizashi to put it on, or even sing along. Honestly, Shouta could listen to Hizashi’s voice till his dying day, singing was no exception.

Deep in his eyes.

Shouta was pulled in a clumsy spin. They were almost the same height, so not the best dance partners.

I think I see the future. I realise

And their chests were flush again, hips moving together as Hizashi whispered against his lips. They were horrible dancers—though mostly because of inexperience— but Shouta was enjoying every second of it.

this is my last chance.

Shouta wanted to ask what the text meant because it felt so sincere. But Hizashi swept him away to continue their utterly improvised dance-routine. Shouta just grinned.

The song ended, and the next upbeat pop song came up. But instead of Hizashi sweeping him up in another dance—which Shouta had expected—he just held Shouta, hands resting on his hips.

“I want to ask you something,” Hizashi said, sounding nervous.

Shouta hummed, waiting for Hizashi to ask what was on his mind. Honestly, Hizashi couldn’t do much wrong in his books.

“Will you move in with me?”

Move in?

Shouta felt himself growing flustered, realising that Hizashi had just asked him to move in with him. They knew each other for only seven months and dating for four.  It probably was way too soon, and yet…

He had spent an awful lot of time at Hizashi’s place. It was closer to his patrol route, so a more comfortable place to crash when he was tired. Also, Hizashi’s place was much nicer. It was more like home, cosier, more cluttered and personalised. The only reason he even came back to his apartment regularly were his cats.

So maybe it would be a bit early in their relationship, and he could imagine his mother clacking her tongue in disappointment. Though she would be more scandalised by the fact he was dating a guy than moving so quickly. But slow and steady didn’t always win the race, his parents spent four years dating before getting married, and look how that ended (or his mother was just a terrible human being). But early didn’t mean ‘too soon’.

Hizashi looked like he was ready to either vomit or bolt out of the room, despite that it was Hizashi’s apartment.

“Shit, I didn’t give you and tap-out option,” Hizashi muttered at record speed. “You can think about it, I mean, it’s a huge commitment and—”

“Yes, I will move in with you.”

Hizashi looked gobsmacked. “Are you serious?”

Shouta nodded. “I mean, if it weren’t for my cats, I would spend even more time here.  Also, it would be a waste of money if I only spend so much time at my place. My lease has to be renewed in a couple of weeks anyway, so that should be no issue.”

“I love you so much.” Hizashi beamed, hauling Shouta in a brain-numbing kiss. That guy could really, really kiss.

I love you too

~*~

“A friend of mine is a huge fan of you.”

Shouta didn’t look at Iida—he was still on patrol—but he was interested. He didn’t have many fans if any at all.

“Really?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah,” Iida was most definitely grinning. “He thinks you’re hot, but he denies that because he has a boyfriend. Nonetheless, he talks a little too much about you.”

It was… flattering? Slightly creepy, but on the other hand, it isn’t like Shouta had never looked at other pro-heroes and think they were hot.

“Even if he weren’t dating I wouldn’t be interested,” Shouta said.

“Not into guys?”

Shouta sniggered. “Definitely into guys,” he answered. “But not interested in cheating.”

Iida let out a deep sigh, probably thinking Shouta was insufferable. He was a little bit. “You wanted to say that, didn’t you?”

Iida wasn’t wrong. He was basically basking in the fact he had a boyfriend who somehow very much loved him. Shouta never expected to end up here, being ecstatic to talk about a boyfriend.

“Maybe.”

~*~

“Hey Hizashi,” Shouta started, stopping mid-bite. It must look ridiculous, having noodles hang mid-air.

“Hmm?” Hizashi responded, mouth full with dinner.

“Love you.”

Hizashi chocked on his noodles and Shouta wasn’t sure whenever to laugh or worry about his boyfriend dying.

“You’re cruel,” Hizashi said, wheezing while trying to regain his breath. “Springing that on me.”

Shouta shrugged. “You did it first; I’m just returning the favour.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

Hizashi’s expression softened. “Love you too, too.”

~*~

Shouta honestly had never expected that this would be his life.

For starters, he woke up many mornings sharing a bed with a guy who was stunning, completely out of his league and brought him so much joy that Shouta wasn’t sure if he had ever been happy before.

Then there were Kayama and Iida. He didn’t see Kayama a lot, but they were regular texting buddies. The banter between them was comfortable, like a warm blanket. It didn’t make his heart flutter like with Hizashi, but it felt like Kayama was the sister he never had and never knew he wanted. (Though too often, he had the urge to strangle her. Maybe it was a good thing they texted).

Iida was another story. It seemed that he and his baby brother showed up a lot in the park. Tenya, who was eight, was often released to run havoc on the other visitors. While keeping an eye on his brother, Iida walked alongside him during patrol, sometimes talking, sometimes just basking in the quietness (as far as a park could be quiet). It was a different kind of friendship, but it was nice. Between the two chatterboxes that were Kayama and Hizashi, Iida was a blessing.

Though by now he should call them Nemuri and Tensei respectively. While Tensei mostly addressed him by his hero name—privacy—Nemuri was dead set on calling him Shouta. That was fine, it wasn’t just exclusive to Hizashi (and it was nice to hear his name come from someone that wasn’t his mother. It meant he had people who he was close with, close enough to be one first-name base).

It almost started to feel like he had crashed smack-dab into a fairy-tale, and Shouta wondered when he would wake up and see his world on fire.

~*~

He loved Hizashi? Yes. Would he do a lot for Hizashi? Yes. So he agreed to meet Hizashi’s friends. Even if he wanted to vomit because of nerves.

Shouta generally wasn’t a nervous person. He didn’t like plenty of things, but they never made him feel ill. Well, unless they were directly linked to Hizashi. He loved Hizashi dearly and tried his utter and foremost best to no screw anything up.

It was a bit silly, to change himself for another person. Though he wasn’t exactly ‘changing’ himself, it was more like he was trying a bit harder. They both did. Hizashi had the habit to overwork, so to make their relationship work, he cut down on hours, despite that he absolutely loved his jobs. Shouta, in return, tried to be a bit more open. While couch dates were terrific, sometimes Hizashi wanted to go out and do something fun.

Now they were going to a bar. That wasn’t too bad if it wasn’t for the reason why they were here. He was going to meet Hizashi’s friends. The people he always talked oh-so fondly about.

What if they didn’t like Shouta? He wouldn’t blame them, Hizashi could do so much better. And what if Shouta didn’t like them? He would try his hardest, Hizashi was worth that.

“Don’t worry, they will like you,” Hizashi reassured as he basically dragged Shouta through the bar.

Hizashi would never introduce him to people he would hate, but what if there wasn’t a click? What if they hated each other right from the get-go? What if they were villains and Hizashi had just never realised it. After all, that guy was too trusting.

Keeping his eyes downcast, staring at Hizashi’s calves—he had very lovely calves—he let his boyfriend do all the introductions. It was less scary if someone started the conversation first.

“Hey guys,” Hizashi greeted, and Shouta noticed they were standing by a booth. They could sit down, that was good. “This is Aizawa Shouta, my boyfriend and the guy I couldn’t shut up about. Shouta.” Hizashi tugged his arm, but he didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t want to meet their gazes.

“Shouta, these are my friends, Kayama Nemuri and Iida Tensei.”

It was awfully quiet, and Shouta finally had the guts to look up. Or more like, the moment he heard those names, he had to look up. Was someone playing a practical joke? He never had told Hizashi the names of his friend. So it’s just a coincidence? Maybe there were people with the same names?

It wasn’t a coincidence. Sitting in the booth, on one side, were Nemuri and Tensei. Nemuri looked shell-shocked, mouthing words along the lines of ‘wait’, ‘what’ and ‘rewind please’. Tensei looked a bit calmer, though his eyes were bright with knowing. Tensei knew a scary amount of things, or he was very good at reading people.

Then, Shouta just started to laugh. And Nemuri shrieked. And Tensei reaction was exactly why Shouta liked him a lot.

“Shouta is your boyfriend!” Nemuri shrieked. “How? You two are, like, polar opposites.”

“That explains your sudden fascination with Eraser Head though,” Tensei said dryly. “I thought were growing obsessed with him. Turned out you were just dating him.”

“Shouta?” Hizashi asked in confusion. “Eraser Head? You two know Shouta?”

To be fair, Shouta was thinking the same thing—it was so weird that his only two friends knew his boyfriend by the first name—but he wasn’t in the fire-line of questions. He was safe so he could kick back and enjoy. While Nemuri and Tensei were preparing their answers, Hizashi slid into the booth, and Shouta followed suit.

“Yeah, someone has to give him style advice,” Nemuri said, flipping her hair. “We know each other from high school.”

“We met in the park,” Tensei said. “Though he kicked my ass during our first year Sports Festival, so we sort of met before?”

Hizashi had, surprisingly, grown a dark shade of red in the face, worrying his bottom lip. Shouta realised he was missing the clue, something Nemuri did too consider her curious expression. Tensei, on the other hand, looked gleeful.

“Spit it out,” Shouta said.

“I, well, I know you went to U.A., never met you because I would have remembered you,” Hizashi said slowly, trying to postpone future embarrassment. “But, uhm, there was this guy, from the general studies I think, and he was beating everyone during the Sports Festival, and I had my ‘bi-awakening’ because of him.”

Tensei let out a barking laughter. “I remember that!” he said. “You completely forgot about the guy, but was having your bi-crisis for weeks and wondered if your parents were going to disown you if you came out as bi.”

 Nemuri joined Tensei’s laughter. That confused Shouta, as he was sure Nemuri got to know Hizashi after high school, and this didn’t seem to be a story Hizashi had ever told her. In addition to that, she had listened to it with the same interest as he had.

Hizashi had forgotten about his embarrassment, opting to face-palm. “I’m a terrible boyfriend,” he moaned. “I never told you—the reason why it’s so funny is that I have two mums.” He was grinning.

He hadn’t known that Hizashi had two mothers. They didn’t talk an awful lot about their families. Shouta tried to avoid talking about it—still afraid to bring up his mother—and Hizashi had been observant enough to pick up on that and not open that can of worms.

Though, Hizashi having two mothers could explain how he actually knew how to do hair, and how to dress properly. Shouta never had been taught. (Hizashi was still tirelessly teaching him how to do his hair). Or Hizashi was an actual, functioning adult, unlike Shouta. That seemed more likely.

“They never disowned you, did they?”

Hizashi shook his head. “Nah, they weren’t even surprised.” Then his face lit up.

“They would want to meet you though,” he said. “They probably will love you.”

Shouta smiled nervously, not sure if Hizashi was genuine or not. He wasn’t particularly likeable, though seeing what kind of person Hizashi was, his mums must be kind.

Nemuri made a gagging noise.

“You two are so grossly in love, it makes me sick.”

“You love it,” Shouta countered quickly, growing flustered nonetheless. “You coo over me that I finally have a boyfriend.”

Nemuri scrunched up her face, though there was a smile there. “Yeah, but it’s Hizashi. It doesn’t… fit.”

Despite that it was well meant, Shouta felt his stomach drop. They didn’t fit. Of course, they didn’t. Hizashi was so brilliantly bright while Shouta was dull and dark.

Hizashi voiced Shouta’s concerns in a small voice. It was odd to think Hizashi had the same mindset as he had, only in reverse. But it seemed that this relationship was the first serious one for both of them.

“It doesn’t?”

“At first, it doesn’t,” Tensei said, probably trying to pull things right. “And honestly, I never imagined the two of you together, but seeing it, it fits.”

“Fits?” Shouta asked.

Tensei had the all-knowing glint in his eyes Shouta had grown to both love and dread. “The way you flutter around each other is so casual—as if you have been doing it for years. You talk about him as if he is everything.”

“Tensei!” Hizashi shrieked, the glasses on the table vibrating under the strain of Hizashi’s quirk. “Why—”

Familiar with the procedure (it almost sounded like something medical), Shouta activated his quirk. It took Hizashi a few seconds to realise his own quirk had vanished, and he clenched his jaw shut. Immediately, Shouta closed his eyes, blinking to fight against the dryness.

“Sorry,” Hizashi mumbled. “I swear I can—”

“Hizashi,” Shouta said, managing to not sound unkind. “It’s fine. Your quirk is sort-off always activated—it’s much harder to control than mine or Tensei’s.”

“I agree with Tensei though,” Nemuri piped in. “I mean sparing you,” she made a gesture to Hizashi. “So I’m embarrassing Shouta instead.”

Joy.

“He is an amazing drunk—really,” Nemuri started, eyes glittering. “And I had hoped to make use of it, pry all the steaming stuff about the two of you. Guy talked about you as if you have been married for years. No steamy stuff, only on how wonderful he was and how happy he made you and— ”

“I think that’s enough,” Shouta said curtly, hating how his voice wavered and was high-pitched. “We get it—I’m in love.”

But Shouta couldn’t stay mad, not when Hizashi was smiling so brightly.

“I make you happy?”

Shouta scoffed. “Of course you do.”

And Hizashi decided to think ‘fuck it’—at least Shouta assumed that—because he hauled Shouta into a kiss. It seemed that the ‘no kissing in public’ rule had been thrown out of the window. Though, to be fair, Shouta’s common sense followed because Shouta could only kiss him back. They were really, really, grossly in love with one-another.

~*~

Shouta had decided early on in his life that he was never going to get married. Look at what his parent’s marriage had resulted in. His father dying early (which might not be related), his mother being incredibly unhappy and Shouta spending most of his childhood living in an abusive household. This wasn’t really motivated to get married himself later on. He didn’t want to relive all that, he didn’t want to become his mother, bitter, spiteful and generally loathing the world because her husband let her life too early.

This belief on marriage, however, changed in a matter of seconds.

They were heroes. They got injured, sometimes ended up in the hospital. But rarely it was bad, like, really bad. And when it finally happened, when it became really bad, Shouta was on the verge of breaking down.

Hizashi had been out on patrol—hero work was still a thing, sadly enough—and there was a villain. Nothing new, really. Till, well, Hizashi didn’t return. Shouta tried to reach out to him, but nothing. He had tried Nemuri and Tensei, but neither knew where Hizashi was. It wasn’t like him to leave them in the dark.

Shouta had tried to call the local hospital, but they had nothing for him. They, however, also mentioned to give them a call back later. So for now, he hoped that Hizashi was in the hospital because that would rule out ‘killed’ and ‘kidnapped’.

~*~

Shouta woke up to a hand brushing through his hair. The feeling was familiar and made the discomfort of the hospital chair almost bearable.

“You’re awake,” Shouta mumbled, sitting upright in his chair and taking Hizashi’s hand in his.

Hizashi looked terrible, but that was to be expected. It was an unfair fight, and Hizashi being the selfless soul he was, had thrown himself in the line of fire to protect his fellow heroes. It had landed him in the hospital, requiring several medical procedures. He would make a fine recovery, he was still young and had been somewhat fortunate. But it still had taken days before he had been stable enough for a visit—family visit only. It had taken a week before the general public had been allowed to visit. To avoid stress.

“I’m sorry,” Hizashi mumbled, squeezing Shouta’s hand. He looked tired. “I know you must have been worried.”

“Everyone did, I never have seen Tensei worry so much—he was cussing at the hospital for not letting us in.”

Hizashi blinked in surprise. “They didn’t? Tensei is my medical proxy, he—”

“He is allowed to make decisions for you, but that didn’t make him family. They only allowed family, and they contacted your parents, but they were overseas. It had no use calling them back when you were still out of it. You only got cleared yesterday—a week later—for visitors.”

Somehow it was possible that Hizashi grew even paler.

“Was it that bad? An entire week?”

Shouta nodded.

“Oh God.”

“Don’t worry, they said you make a full recovery.” He squeezed Hizashi’s hand in reassurance.

Hizashi remained quiet though, looking so small that Shouta wondered if this was the same guy he was dating, whom he loved. Though, he should be allowed to look like this. To wake up and realise you might as well have been dead, that nobody you loved knew what exactly was going on. It must be a nightmare.

“Hizashi, I want to ask you something.”

Hizashi nodded.

“You know that this won’t be the last time that one of us end up in the hospital, right?”

With tears in his eyes—Shouta wanted to hug him, kiss him, everything to get him to smile—Hizashi nodded again.

“I—”

“I get it,” Hizashi said, sniffing and blinking away tears. “If you want to break up. I would have worried myself sick in your position, and it can happen again, and again, and maybe one day you wouldn’t be able to visit me because I—”

Shouta was horrified when Hizashi started to sob loudly, wincing with pain as his body moved. He should call in a nurse, trying to calm Hizashi down, but he couldn’t get himself to let go of Hizashi’s hand, which he now was clutching with both of his’.

This wasn’t what he had planned. He couldn’t break up with Hizashi, ever. It would make him feel terrible for the rest of his life. The feelings he had carried the last week or so would stick with him the rest of his life. The feeling of constant anxiety and a certain hollowness, the missing puzzle-piece that was Hizashi.

“Hizashi, I wasn’t planning on breaking up with you.”

Shouta swallowed nervously, wondering if this was the right to do. It was too early, they have been dating for just six months, but Shouta didn’t know when else would be the right time. Hizashi was it for him, and right now he gave him a bloody good excuse to finally go with it.

“You weren’t?” Hizashi sounded as small as he looked.

“I wanted to ask.” Shouta played with Hizashi’s fingers. “And I know I’m very unromantic, and you would be so much better at this than I, but.” he gathering all the nerves he could find. “Do you want to marry me? I don’t have rings yet, and not even met your parents, we didn’t even talk about it. I mean, we have only been dating for six months so you can say no, that’s totally fair. But so that you know, you’re it for me. You make me so happy.”

He could keep on talking about the benefits of marrying each other. They could share their medical policies—stable incomes helped a lot with the costs; they would have priority in seeing each other during a medical situation. They will be each other’s medical proxy. But Hizashi knew that he wasn’t dumb. A part of the reason Shouta asked now was that of the medical benefits. But it didn’t change the way he felt about Hizashi. Getting married wasn’t just for the benefits.

“I’m not sure yet,” Hizashi said. “Can I think about it?”

Shouta nodded, feeling a little ill. Of course, Hizashi had to think about it, they hadn’t discussed it before. Also, Hizashi seemed like someone who would have these big, elaborated proposal plans. He loved romantic gestures, though he often toned it down around Shouta. Maybe he would say no, for now, and propose in a year or two (if they were still together. Was a proposal enough to ruin their relationship? Maybe he should have thought more about it).

“I will call Tensei and Nemuri,” Shouta said, getting up from his chair. “Telling them you’re awake and… doing okay.”

Okay was the best way to describe Hizashi. He was awake, breathing and living, but he definitely wasn’t back to normal yet.

“’kay,” Hizashi mumbled. “Know that I love you.”

“I know,” he said, feeling his heart jump in his throat. “Love you too.”

~*~

“Hey Shouta,” Hizashi whispered.

Only half awake, Shouta let out a grunt and butted his head against Hizashi’s chest. Why was he still awake? It was late, and they had work tomorrow.

“Yes.”

“What?”

Hizashi laughed softly, nuzzling Shouta’s hair. “My answer.”

Shouta groaned. “For what?”

He couldn’t remember having unanswered questions. Actually, their general communication has gotten better. He hadn’t bickered with Hizashi since he had been fired from the hospital three weeks ago. At first, they had tip-toed around each other, and after that they had settled back in their normal lifestyle, trying not to worry too much over one-another. They both were adults; they both were heroes. They got hurt all the time.

“To marry you,” Hizashi whispered. “You are it for me too—though there are three things I want you to promise me beforehand.”

Suddenly Shouta felt awake. He had, honestly, completely forgotten about his proposal. Or more like, completely suppressed it. After the proposal, he had acted as if he had never asked it. He owned Hizashi that much while he was recovering, and once he was released from the hospital, Shouta had decided that the proposal had been stupid.

“Okay, what is it?”

“I want to pick out engagement rings, for both of us, and you will wear yours.”

Number one wasn’t too bad, aside from the fact Shouta didn’t wear jewellery, at all.

“Can I wear mine around a chain?” he asked timidly.

Hizashi god-honest giggled, and Shouta was going to die. “Of course.”

“Second one, I want to introduce you to my mums before marrying.”

“That’s do-able.”

“You’re going to hate the last one,” Hizashi said, his fingers running over Shouta’s bare back. “But you have to tell me about your family.”

Shouta felt his blood run cold as he realised Hizashi was tracing scars that he had ever since childhood, the ones his mother had inflicted on him—among many others—during her never-ending rage of Shouta reminding her too much of her passed away husband. He had discredited Hizashi’s intelligence because he always thought he had hidden it well, that he could just bottle it up and never release it to the full wide world.

“You knew?”

Hizashi pulled him closer, as far as that was possible. “I guessed. You always avoid talking about your family, and you’re very self-conscious about some of your scars, while you don’t care about others. I just added two and two together.”

Despite the topic—he really didn’t want to talk about it, even in the far future—Shouta managed to crack a small smile.

“More like you channelled your inner Sherlock Holmes, nobody ever guessed, she—”

“Nope, not tonight,” Hizashi said. “Tomorrow, or maybe even later. But I know what we can do tonight.”

To be honest, despite being awfully horny twenty-somethings, they didn’t have a lot of sex. More often than not, one of them was too tired for sex or—which was mostly on Shouta’s behalf, or they spent their time cuddling in front of the television and half-heartedly watch a movie. So considering they both were wide awake, and Shouta wouldn’t mind a distraction…

“Fine, you’re topping—and remember, work, tomorrow.”

Hizashi sniggered. “Yes sir. Make sure you don’t fall asleep during prep though.”

“That happened once,” Shouta protested, feeling himself grow flustered (partly because of embarrassment, and partly because of arousal).

“Which means that it can happen twice,” Hizashi pointed out.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

~*~

“Mama, I’m home!” Hizashi shouted as he barged into his family home, not even bothering to knock or ring the bell.

Shouta followed timidly, trying to recall all the sign language Hizashi had taught him. One of his mother’s—the one he called mama—had hearing aids and could just hear him fine. But she often talked with both her mouth and hands. Hizashi’s other mother—she was called mum—was deaf and solely could talk with sign language. Hizashi had promised he would translate for him, but that didn’t make him any less nervous to meet the parents.

A tall woman hurried into the hallway, sweeping Hizashi in a hug. She didn’t look anything like Hizashi, with black hair, dark eyes and a small posture. But she at least looked kind enough.

“Is mum home?” Hizashi asked as they parted from the hug.

Hizashi’s mother shook her head. “At work, but she will be here for dinner. Will you be staying that long?”

That’s when she finally caught sight of Shouta. He had been busy blending in with the wall, hoping that he wouldn’t be noticed. But alas, her face lit up when she spotted Shouta.

“Is that?” she made a hand gesture Hizashi hadn’t bothered to teach him.

Hizashi grinned. “Yeah.”

Hizashi’s mother pulled him in a hug, clearly not taking a no for an answer. Her personality reminded him a lot of Hizashi, despite that they weren’t actually blood-related.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she babbled. “Hizashi talks so much about you—you make him so happy.”

“Mama!” Hizashi protested, but his mother just continued.

“And my wife would love you, finally someone quiet—she always complains Hizashi, and I are loud.”

Shouta wondered how they could be loud if she were deaf, but he didn’t question it. That would be rude and uncalled for.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Shouta said, trying not to stumble over his words. The woman was so incredibly kind, and Shouta had been doing everything to avoid meeting her. “Sorry for delaying our meeting.”

She looked so soft and warm that Shouta seriously wondered whenever Hizashi wasn’t actually blood-related to her. They had the same air to them. “It’s fine. Hizashi told us a lot about you, and you shouldn’t feel obliged to meet us. We aren’t going anywhere.”

“Well,” Hizashi piped in. “He sort of was obliged to meet you two.”

Hizashi’s mother turned around and offered Hizashi a glare. At least Shouta assumed that, judging his slightly frightened expression.

“Hizashi, did you force your boyfriend to meet us?”

“Sort of,” Hizashi answered timidly. “I mean, he didn’t have to, but I didn’t want to get married before you guys met him, and as we want to get married before the end of the year, with hero work takes up so much time and—”

Hizashi’s mother shrieked, and Shouta couldn’t decide whenever it was a good or bad shriek. Hizashi shouldn’t have dropped the m-word.

“Married! You’re getting married!” she sounded like a twelve-year-old who got a kitten. “Oh dear, that’s such good news, I thought you would never settle down.”

And Hizashi’s mother was hugging Hizashi, though it looked more like she was strangling him.

This went better than expected.

“You haven’t been dating awfully long, have you?” Hizashi’s mother eventually asked, her voice surprisingly calm.

Both Hizashi and Shouta shook their head, though Hizashi vocally answered.

“We met a bit more than a year ago, and we have been dating for nine-and-a-half months. It isn’t a lot, I think. We know, but…”

Hizashi’s mother sighed, but it wasn’t a disappointed one. It felt more like resignation. “We will have a lot to catch up on,” she said. “I want to get to know my son-in-law before letting him marry my only son.”

Shouta felt so relieved he could cry. It frightened him a little, marry so soon into their relationship. But he didn’t regret his decision, and he hoped Hizashi didn’t either.

“Thank you, mama,” Hizashi said, giving her another hug. “It means a lot to me.”

“Us,” Shouta corrected, feeling his voice crack a little.

“Oh dearie,” she shot Shouta bright smile. “You make him happy like I said before. Also, me and my wife got married only after knowing each other for two years, and we’re still together. It seems Yamada’s know when they have found the right one.”

Hizashi laughed which warmed Shouta’s heart. Shouta had been nervous about meeting the parents, but Hizashi had been nervous too. After all, introducing your boyfriend was one thing, introducing him as your fiancé was something entirely else.

“Or Yamada’s have a type,” Hizashi pointed out. “Tall, with pretty black hair, a bit quiet and forever in love with cats.”

Hizashi’s mother nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he reminds you a lot of ma—has he poor naming skills too?”

“Yes!”

~*~

“Hey Hizashi,” Shouta asked, keeping an eye on the road. “What did you mother mean, when signing my name?”

Shouta was aware that signing names were hard, that it generally was either spelt out or that a short nickname was used to describe the person. It seemed that Hizashi had given Shouta one, though he had no idea what it meant.

“Oh,” Hizashi said, excitement in his voice. “You mean this one?”

He vaguely saw the motions Hizashi was making, and it seemed to match his mother’s. So he nodded.

“It means cat,”  Hizashi said gleefully.

It was adorable. Shouta was a twenty-three-year-old who thought his boyfriend was absolutely precious. It was a bit odd because neither of them had that particularly charming vibe. But it was true to him. Hizashi was cute, and the idea that he described Shouta as simply ‘cat’ was precious.

“It’s cute,” Shouta admitted, checking the road before pressing a swift kiss on Hizashi’s cheek.

He was going to marry this man and honestly, Shouta felt a bit giddy thinking about it. He was really, really running low on sleep because that was the only moment he was so irrationally giddy. Marriage wouldn’t change anything between them—they wouldn’t love each other differently, they wouldn’t suddenly adopt a kid, start a family and fall into domestic life. They wouldn’t be able to do that, not with their hero jobs. Nothing would really change, yet it felt like a lot would change once they would say their ‘I do’s’.

~*~

“What’s this?” Nemuri asked, waving the envelope in front of Shouta’s face. “Please don’t tell me it’s another envelope of cat-pictures.”

Shouta snorted, remembering that all too well. He had found it hilarious, Nemuri not so much. She didn’t quite love cats as much as Shouta loved them.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t.”

Nemuri held a healthy dose of scepticism, which he couldn’t blame her for. He wouldn’t trust it either. Though, the scepticism played in his favour, as she didn’t suspect a thing.

She carefully opened the envelope, as expecting something to jump out of it.

“It’s a card?” Nemuri mumbled, then she flipped it around and froze.

“You’re getting… married?” she said slowly, her eyes flickering over the wedding invitation.

It was a horrid thing, all bright colours and Shouta was pretty sure Hizashi had managed to put some puns into it—which was quite the accomplishment. But to be honest, the invitation had Hizashi written all over it, and Shouta loved that. It was personal, unlike the ones they could get from the internet or from a shop (plus it wasn’t so mushy. Shouta had lit the first suggestion on fire because it was way too lovey-dovey for him).

Shouta nodded. The original plans were to get married before the end of the year, but with Christmas in the way, he and Hizashi had decided that it would be better if they moved it to January. Once the holidays had ended, and everyone had a bit more time to do, well, things. Like getting married.

“Damn it,” Nemuri cussed. “Now I own Tensei money—I didn’t think the hospital incident was enough for the two of you to get hitched. Tensei knows Hizashi a lot better than I do, so I suppose he can figure out Hizashi better than I ever could.”

He hated how sad he felt by the fact Nemuri thought Hizashi was the one to pop the question. Though, Shouta had always assumed Hizashi would have been the one—thought it would be way further down the road in their relationship.

“I’m happy for you!” Nemuri added hurry, misreading Shouta’s expression. “I’m so happy you found your happiness, in a good person. Also, you didn’t get hitched in Las Vegas without telling me, so that’s a relief. I want to be there at your wedding and tell stories about your awkward teenage years.”

Shit. He hadn’t thought about that. Nemuri evidently wanted to spill all the good things about Shouta’s awkward teenage years. Though the text messages he had sent her were more worrying. He had sent her one too many drunken text messages.

“So you’re coming?” Shouta asked, trying to change the subject. He had to tell Hizashi that under no circumstances he was allowed to let Nemuri have a speech during their wedding.

Nemuri rolled her eyes—something she must have taken from him as a habit—and offered him a deadpanned look. “Of course I’m coming. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Seeing as his patrol shift started in fifteen minutes, Shouta gathered his things. He had picked the café because it was close-by where he began his patrol, but he still had to get changed and actually call in that he did start his patrol and wasn’t lying in bed and enjoying a day off fully paid. (Changing in alleyways wasn’t as glamorous as the movies made it out to be).

“Hey Shouta, before you leave,” Nemuri had gotten up too, smoothing out her dress. “Why did you personally hand me the invitation? You have my address.”

Grinning—he saw a few customers eyed him with fright—he offers Nemuri his best attempt at looking nonchalant. “Almost forgot. Tensei will be Hizashi’s best man—don’t tell him that—so I wanted to ask you if you would be my maid of honour.”

The first time Nemuri had frozen on the spot, it had been funny. Now it was straight-up hysterical. So Shouta just laughed. It drew in more attention, and a few disapproving glares, but this was golden. Catching Nemuri off guard was a task not many people succeeded in, and Shouta hadn’t expected him to be the one to crack the code (though this definitely would be a one-time thing. He wasn’t planning on re-marrying, ever).

“You jerk,” Nemuri shouted, unfreezing and opting for hitting Shouta’s chest. “Of course I want to be your maid of honour. Is there a colour-theme? What colour should my dress be? Or should it be a suit?”

Shouta blinked, overwhelmed by the response. Nemuri wasn’t even hitting him hard. But the wedding questions were a surprise, as they had barely anything planned. They had managed to find a place to get married—the house of Hizashi’s aunt, who had a large, beautiful garden and a spacious living room. And the date was pretty random. It was during a weekend, so most of them were off work. But that’s all there is to it.

“I don’t know,” he answered in honesty. “Hizashi will let you know; we’re still planning the majority of it.”

Nemuri slapped a kiss against his forehead. “Don’t you have work?”

Checking the time, he noticed he was started to run late. What had been fifteen minutes had turned into six minutes. He was going to be late, and while it wouldn’t be career ending, he rather avoided it.

He hiked up his bag with gear and uniform and bade Nemuri a quick goodbye. Though, before he left the café, he turned around, hating how he couldn’t keep his grin under control.

“Also, I was the one who asked, not Hizashi.”

~*~

Tensei Iida:  Shouta, I have two things to ask:

Tensei Iida: First of all, can Tenya come too? He loves you (don’t tell Hizashi that), and was excited to hear you were getting married.

Tensei Iida: And secondly: WHY DID U TELL NEMURI U PROPOSED??? MY MONEY TAT

Aizawa: what even is your texting style?

Aizawa: like, there is no consistency

Aizawa: but i will ask hizashi if tenya can come too

Aizawa: i think it’s fine though, hizashi has a couple of nephews and nieces of his age

Aizawa: because nemuri would murder me if i didn’t tell her

Aizawa: and be fair, she is perfectly capable of that

Tensei Iida: Hizashi has rubbed off on me.

Tensei Iida: His texting is awful.

Aizawa: agreed. hizashi’s texting is awful

Tensei Iida: And I agree, Nemuri could kill you, and probably would have if she found out you never told.

Tensei Iida: But I still haven’t given you your congratulations. Congratulations on getting married! Thanks for putting up with him, and loving him.

Aizawa: how do you write half essays on your phone

Aizawa: i survive on autocorrect alone

Aizawa: i am surprised that he is willing to put up with me

Aizawa: but i feel like that’s mutual

Tensei Iida: You wrote more than I did in the end, you just send multiple replies.

Tensei Iida: Practise, a lot of practise and even more practice.

Aizawa: hizashi said yes, tenya can come too

Aizawa: also he hates and loves you

Tensei Iida: Is he seriously reading along?

Aizawa: yes???

Tensei Iida: Now I know why I never text you.

Aizawa: you usually harass me during patrol

Tensei Iida: Fair point.

Aizawa: i’m always fair

Tensei Iida: Don’t push it.

Aizawa: fine

~*~

“So, anybody who was somewhat close to Hizashi when he was fifteen knew he had a sudden bi-awakening. It was pretty hilarious.” Tensei told the wedding guest, signing animatedly along his speech so that Hizashi’s mum could follow the story.

Nemuri, thankfully, already had her turn to embarrass Shouta in front in his future family-in-law. Though she had captured his teenage-angst perfectly. She also had talked about Hizashi, but not in the same depth as she had talked about Shouta. That was Tensei’s job, who happily talked about his friendship with Hizashi.

Though, Shouta did wonder where this story was going, because he had the feeling it was a well-known one among Hizashi’s family.

“Usually, something has to trigger such a thing, now I make it sound like a disease. Something has to make you realise you like something. My bi-awakening, as Hizashi likes to call it, wasn’t too bad. I woke up realising I both liked men and women and that was that, no crisis like Hizashi. Not that Hizashi had bothered with my minor crisis, he was too busy realising that he basically could date the entirety of the class.” There were a few chuckles among the guests. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t me who made him realise it. It was the husband.”  He gestured to Shouta, was wanted to sink further into his chair.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but snort. After the first time meeting as a group—which was the first one of many—Shouta had figured they were in the same high school for three years. It was likely they have been participating in three Sports Festivals together. Taking into account Hizashi had mentioned it was a guy from general studies, during their first year, it was pretty likely it had been Shouta. It was the only year he had been in general studies, and only two of them made it to the finals, the other being a girl whose name Shouta couldn’t recall to save his life.

“So last night, Hizashi texted me—for anyone who had the pleasure to never text him, know he is a terrible texter. So he texted me, in all caps and poor spelling, this: I AM GOING TO MARRY MY BI-AWAKENING. HOW DID I NEVER REALISE THIS?”

“To spell it out, Hizashi didn’t realise that back in high school, he had this tiny crush on Shouta. It isn’t even like Shouta has physically changed much. I recognised him immediately—probably because he kicked my butt during the Sports Festival, such thing leaves a guy traumatised.” Laughter followed. “Anyway, I recognised him when I first met him again. But Hizashi clearly hadn’t. He asked me if I knew about the whole ‘I’m marrying my bi-awakening thing’, so I answer that I did. You know, the expected thing to say.”

“Instead of going to sleep like a sensible human, or mule a bit more over it, the guy was considering calling quits on the wedding, because his fiancé deserved, and I will quote him: ‘someone who doesn’t forget the moment he fell in love with him, as clearly I wasn’t able to remember that.’ He wanted to call off the wedding, the wedding with the love of his life I might add. Because he had forgotten how his very first, tiny gay crush looked like. I can’t recall what I had for dinner last week.”

There was laughter and cooing over Hizashi, who had grown a bright shade of red. Not that Shouta was fairing much better, he too felt like his face was on fire, and his heart was going a tad too fast. The love of his life sounded so… cheesy? Was Shouta really the love of Hizashi’s life? Well, they were married (that would take time getting used to).

“I didn’t make that up. He is very lovey-dovey when it comes to Shouta, especially over text. To be fair, Shouta is equally as bad. The two of them act like they have been like this from the moment they were born—which is a bit ridiculous as they met about a year-and-a-half ago. Anyway, Hizashi was considering calling quiets on their wedding, and I panicked. Because I never have seen my best friend this in love, and I wasn’t allowed to let him ruin his life—”

Tensei paused to build suspense, and it worked. It was a bit silly, because they were here, sitting and listening to stories about Hizashi and Shouta before they were married. Though, any story that that took place more than two hours ago would fit that criteria. Before they got married.

“You know, being a best friend, it’s your job to laugh at your friend’s mistakes, but make sure they don’t make life-changing mistakes. Like, if they fall flat on their face on the ice? Laugh your arse off. But when they want to call off the wedding because they’re nervous—which is totally okay—it’s time that you jump in. And honestly, it was so easy to talk Hizashi out of it. I had expected to stay up all night reassuring Hizashi that Shouta wasn’t too good for him, that he was just a moron. But honestly, it was one question, and it all was over. If only asking out someone was that easy.”

Shouta was almost howling with laughter when he saw Tensei shoot a couple of Hizashi’s cousins a wink. A few of them were their age and single. They didn’t really look like Hizashi, he was the only blond at the wedding, but Shouta could see that they were likeable.

“I asked him one question—the first one that came to me at well past twelve at night. Kiddos, it isn’t quite as fun to stay up late as if you think it is. ‘Do you make him happy?’ I asked. This guy here wakes up his soon-to-be-husband. Waking Shouta up is quite a feat, and it’s daring. And I can only assume he asks Shouta this question because a few minutes later I get the answer. ‘He told me that no-one else had ever made him this happy’. And that was it because Hizashi stopped texting afterwards, but considering that we’re sitting here, it was enough. So, the moral of the story: love is hard, and communication is key. And Hizashi is a loveable idiot. Thanks for listening.”

Tensei bowed, and he was greeted by loud applause, chatter among the family members started to fill up the garden space.

“You’re an idiot,” Shouta whispered, pressing a kiss on Hizashi’s jaw. It was the only available surface, as the rest was covered with hands. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to marry you because you don’t remember seeing me for the first time? You had to do way worse than that. Like telling me you have secret lovechild somewhere.”

Shouta paused, feeling slightly nervous, nudged Hizashi’s legs. The contact made him feel a bit more secure, grounded into the realisation that this all was real. “You don’t have a secret lovechild somewhere, do you?”

Hizashi snorted and moved his hands away. He was flustered, lips chapped from biting and he looked tired.

“Not as far as I’m aware. Sorry for panicking, and for even thinking of calling off the wedding.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Shouta admitted. “I texted Nemuri this morning for the same reason. I didn’t think I deserved you, but I start to feel like this thing is getting old, don’t you think?”

Hizashi’s eyes were a vibrant green colour, a besotted grin was plastered on his lips. “I agree, so I want to propose something.”

“We’re married already, so it must be good.”

“We try to stop thinking about it,” Hizashi suggested. “We decided to get married. We are married. We’re both in for the long run. So from now on, we both should assume we are enough for the other, because as long as I make you happy—”

“And I make you happy,” Shouta added.

“Than it should be enough. Marriage is a mutual thing, and if our mutual goal is to make each other happy, well, that makes things easier.”