Work Text:
Of course it's hard, you think, working for the Hero Commission. They only employ civilians, they require a lot of work and screening to even become part of it...it's no surprise that they're understaffed, employees being pushed way past the line of exhaustion and breaking. You sympathise with all of them, having been a former Hero Commission employee yourself, but there was one man you felt particularly worried about: Yokumiru Mera, your best friend.
You grew up together, went to school together, applied to work at the Commission together...even when you quit, choosing to start a little diner of your own, he'd stuck around and supported you, used the little time off he had to help you get the place ready all those months ago...it had ended up with you two moving in together as roommates in the apartment above your diner, a purely platonic thing in the beginning.
Lately, though, there's some tension, a bit of weirdness. Touches that last a little too long, feel a little too warm. Hugs that are a little too tight. Cheek kisses that are a little too tender. You want to call attention to it sometimes, tell him how you feel, but then he looks at you with that sleepy smile and you find yourself brushing the thought away. He's too busy for a relationship, you reason in your head. You're too doting, he'd find you annoying. You tell yourself all these little things even now, in your shared apartment, watching him hunched over a laptop. He's typing some report up, grumbling under his breath, yawning every so often. After the fifth yawn, you decide you've had enough watching, and you walk over to him and shut the laptop. He whines and looks up at you, brows furrowed.
"What's that about?" he asks, frowning.
"You've been erasing and retyping the same sentence for the last minute," you say, helping him out of the office chair in his little corner of the apartment. "You need to take a break, Yokumiru."
"Can't, this report's due tomorrow…" he tries to argue, but you give him a look, and he's giving in, letting you pull him along.
"Then you can do it in the morning," you say, pushing him onto the couch for a nap, "You'll crash and burn if you keep going."
He huffs, laying back on the couch, looking up at you. After a moment though, he shifts, and he's settling down to get comfortable. You smile, pleased, and turn around to leave him be. Or try to. He's got you by the wrist, touch warm, skin on yours. Something in your chest flutters around, and when you look down at him, the feeling sinks down to your stomach.
"What?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, trying to pretend his touch doesn't affect you. You're best friends, roommates...It'd be weird, it'd ruin your friendship if you let him know, you tell yourself.
He gives you that sleepy smile, the one you dream about kissing every damn minute of the day, and the fluttering turns into full on butterflies trying to get out.
"Lay down with me?" he asks, tugging on your wrist, moving to make space for you. "I sleep better when you do."
You sigh, make it seem like you're annoyed, like a fond best friend would instead of someone with a crush would, and you move to lay with him. His arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder...you can't help but press your face into the crook of his neck and breathe in the scent of him. Warm, intimate, the smell of clean skin and the cologne he wears to the office. You want to kiss his neck, but you hold yourself back, and just snuggle up to him like you do when he's being clingy.
"You're a grown man," you say, voice muffled against his skin, "you can't keep treating me like a teddy bear, you know."
He laughs, pulling you closer, the vibrations passing through from his chest to yours. "You're my best friend, who else would I treat like this?"
"Your significant other, maybe?"
"Don't have one," he says, then yawns, "gonna find me one?"
"I should, it'd make you move out and leave me alone, you big nerd."
"Mean... "
"You love me, though," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice, the closest you'd get to flirting with him.
"I do," he says, pressing his face into your hair, yawning again. "I can't get a girlfriend or anything anyway...I'd keep comparing them to you."
You have to pretend that that doesn't make you happy, have to hope that he can't feel how hard your heart is beating in your chest. Loud, wild, like an animal trying to break out of your ribcage. You try to answer him, keep the banter going, but no words come out.
"You've spoiled me," he continues even as he slowly drifts off to sleep, his grip around your waist loosening just a bit, "with your doting and your diner food and your cuddles. Aren't you going to take responsibility?"
While his hold on you relaxes as he dozes off, your hold on him tightens. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm saying I don't wanna be your friend anymore." he mumbles, half-asleep, voice soft.
The dim light in your apartment makes the scene a lot more intimate than it should be, all soft voices and slits of afternoon sunlight peeking through the curtains. Below you, you can hear the bustling of the diner, and it's all that keeps you grounded in reality.
Just before he falls asleep, he presses a kiss to your hair, then to your temple. "Do you know what I'm talking about now?"
Before you can answer though, he slumps against you, snoring softly. His breathing is slow and even, the exact opposite of the beating of your heart, and you can't help but laugh at what just happened. You press a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, trying not to wake him up.
"I don't want to be your friend anymore either," you say quietly, nuzzling into his sleeping form.