Work Text:
A lot of people say that once you’re truly comfortable with a person, you can find satisfaction in just being in the same room with them. It doesn’t matter what the two of you are doing– the idea is that you can both be sitting in silence and be perfectly content to bask in each other’s presence. You believed this too, at least, to an extent.
Sprawled out across the couch, you can’t help but feel a little neglected. You lean on Aizawa’s shoulder, your legs cracking as you extend them out across his lap. He doesn’t flinch, too engrossed in the whatever he’s looking at on his phone. Your husband is a quiet person– it’s no surprise that he just wants to relax when he gets home from a long day at U.A. Still, that doesn’t mean you don’t need some love every now and again.
“Shouta.” You try your very best to draw him away from the device in his hand, snaking your arms around his neck and pressing your weight into him. He doesn’t even look up, only giving you a small sound of acknowledgment. No, this wouldn’t work. “Look at me?”
He sighs and twists his head towards you. He says nothing, but you’ve known him long enough to know the look he’s giving you– this is his “this better be good” stare. When you make a pouty face and gesture at his phone, he rolls his eyes, placing it on the coffee table. “What is it?”
In a moment of brilliance, you get an idea. You can’t fight the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “You, me. Staring contest.” He just blinks at you, although you can’t tell if it’s done out of irritation or disbelief. Then, he nudges your ankle away, trying to get up.
“No!” You whine, tightening your embrace on his neck. You shimmy a leg in behind his back, crossing your ankles and thwarting his escape. “Just one round! I promise to leave you alone if you win.” He raises an eyebrow.
“If I win?”
“Yes,” You respond, glad to finally have his undivided attention, “If you win.”
“And if you win?” His voice might’ve sounded bored to any other person, but you knew better. That little rise at the end of the question told you everything you needed to know– he was interested.
“They say two people’s hearts sync up when they stare into each other’s eyes.” You intend for the words to sound sickly-sweet, but you can tell that Aizawa isn’t buying the act. “That’s all the prize I need.”
Your husband smirks, and you catch a glint of something competitive in his expression. “You understand that my job depends on my ability to not blink.” Oh, you’ve got him– hook, line, and sinker.
“Which will make my victory that much sweeter.”
When he twists his body to face you, you let your legs go slack. Then he lifts himself up an inch and the vice is back. He shoots you a look, then plops one of his knees onto the couch, fidgeting a bit until it finds a comfortable spot nestled between your side and the cushions. You loosen your grip again, but make no move to remove it completely. You tell yourself that it’s in case he tries to leave again, but the truth of the matter is you really like this position. You feel powerful.
“Ready? You stretch the word over a couple seconds, letting each consonant and vowel hang on your tongue. Aizawa leans forward.
“Set?” You shut your eyes. Sure, the game was only meant as a distraction– but hell if you weren’t even going to try to win.
“Go!”
Your eyes shoot open, and he’s there waiting for you. He’s wearing his normal, lazy expression– he isn’t stretching his eyes wide or showing any indication that he’s actually participating in your little competition. Like this is too easy for him– and the honest truth is that it probably is. Still, you endeavor to at least give him a challenge. After a couple seconds, your eyes are already starting to water.
“Giving up already?” The suddenness of the words breaks your focus, and your eyelids flutter.
“Not fair!” You give his shoulder a light shove. “You distracted me. Re-do.” He lets his jaw hang a bit, as if he wants to argue. He doesn’t though.
“Fine.”
You roll your neck, working out the tension before your next round. When you’re finished with that, you shoot your adversary a pointed look. “No talking this time.”
“Like that’ll change anything” You shush him, bringing yourself to his eye level. Then you shut your eyes and prepare yourself once again.
“Ready? Set?” You pause. “Go.”
Something is different this time. As you peer into Shouta’s eyes, you find yourself focusing less on your little contest, and more on him– the way his jaw shifts, the way he narrows his eyes in concentration. You smile a bit when the mushy feelings hit. Noticing when his lips tilt upward, you can’t help but wonder if he’s as hypnotized as you are. The way his expression seems to soften makes you think that might be the case.
You lose track of time. Aren’t your eyes supposed to be burning right now? You can’t remember how long you’ve been at this, but the bet seems secondary at this point. Slowly, you reach out with your hand, brushing your fingers against his. His eyes don’t leave yours, but he returns the gesture, feather-like touches skimming the edge of your palm. When his hand drifts up your arm, a shiver courses up your spine. How this man can completely unravel you with a single touch, you’ll never understand. You take a shallow breath when his nails brush the back of your neck, your eyes instinctively clamping shut.
His free arm coils around your waist, pulling you closer into him. You thank the heavens for your foresight, constricting your legs around his torso to eliminate what little space remains. You can practically hear Aizawa’s smug expression when he leans forward and mutters against your ear.
“I win.”
Really, you have to wonder if that’s the truth.