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Higari had spent the last hour and a half marking his first year students’ preliminary project reports, and he was starting to get bored. Each year, he tried to keep it interesting by mixing up the theme, but there was only so much he could do before the sheer volume of it made it all feel the same. Sighing, he put his extra-thick-gripped red pen down on the coffee table next to him and flexed his fingers. At least he wasn’t marking at his desk in the teacher’s room, that would have made things even duller.
Instead, Higari had the joy of marking the reports on a soft couch, courtesy of Ectoplasm’s UA apartment. Technically, Higari had the exact same couch in his apartment, located only two floors above this one, but having the man himself sitting across from him made this couch far preferable.
“How’s marking going?” Higari asked.
“Slow. I’m struggling to tell the difference between this student’s 6’s and b’s, but the steps look alright so it’s probably fine as long as they can tell the difference.” Ectoplasm responded, not looking up from the worksheet.
“It’s always fine until someone else has to read their work. Ugh, I still remember that lecturer who would mark you down if he couldn’t read your writing, but also didn’t allow anyone to hand in typed work. Seriously, nothing’s stopping students copying down what they find online manually, and it’s so much easier to send it through a plagiarism checker if it’s digital! Why would you make life difficult for everyone?”
“Mmm…” Ectoplasm hummed into the back of his pen for a moment before circling something and writing a question mark next to it. “I’m surprised you’re still mad about that, it was like 20 years ago now, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but do you know how hard it is to write neatly when your pen keeps slipping out of your hand? It would have been so much easier for both of us if he just let me use something else! You see these fingers?” exclaimed Higari, lifting his hands and punctuating his point by clicking all the end caps together in Ectoplasm’s direction, “zero grip! Constant butterfingers unless I dip them in anti slip paint!”
“Technology has indeed come far.”
“I’m so glad I moved on from sticking chewed gum on my fingers. That was the worst.” He huffed, throwing his hands behind his head and leaning back to glance around the room. Honestly, there wasn’t that much to see. A couple of diplomas were framed and hung up on the wall above a moderately sized desk. The desk itself held a pen pot, a calculator, a notebook, a laptop, a mostly-made Rubik’s cube, and a spider plant that was expelling plantlets like an illegal rave expels party-goers after the police show up. All this was contrasted heavily by a brightly coloured Daft Punk poster that spanned the depth of the desk, hanging on the adjacent wall. In the corner by the door was a wheelchair, but otherwise the rest of the room was exactly the same as Higari’s was when he moved in.
Higari looked back at Ectoplasm, who was still engrossed in his papers and did not seem to be as interested in finding a distraction as Higari was. So instead, Higari decided to stare at Ectoplasm from across the couch as he was currently the most compelling thing in the room.
Running his eyes along the length of Ectoplasm's costume, he was once again struck by how much he enjoyed its construction. Higari loved the simplicity of it; the tan trench coat was demure and hid most of his body and support items, but more importantly it gave nothing to what Ectoplasm's quirk actually was. For all anyone knew, his quirk could have been 'no-limbs' or 'no-lips'. Most people found Ectoplasm’s look off-putting, but somehow the way the costume highlighted his large jaw and lack of nose made him look dangerous and compelling. Years ago, when they were more involved in hero work, Ectoplasm had frequently made it onto the list of heroes who looked like villains. Which, in Higari’s opinion, was really just a list of the best dressed pro-heroes with obvious mutations. The heroes on that list also tended to be scrutinised for any hint of un-hero-like behaviour, especially by certain groups of the public. Oddly enough, he'd noticed that the costumes that hid heroes’ bodies entirely were exempt from the treatment, such as the Laundry Hero: Wash. There, people were more focused on complaining that a washing machine was supposedly more powerful than a literal dragon. Higari just wondered if he'd picked the wrong metal contraption to strap himself into. Regardless, Higari loved the spooky, confident aura Ectoplasm exuded while in costume, which he thought was a priceless juxtaposition compared to the dorky math teacher he'd fallen in love with.
Despite having been stared at for the last five minutes, Ectoplasm still hadn’t moved from his marking. Boredom persisting, Higari pulled a leg up onto the couch to face Ectoplasm fully.
“Do you need something?” Ectoplasm asked, a quick turn of his head telling Higari he’d looked at him, at least.
“Nah. Just checking out your face.” He responded, wondering why Ectoplasm choses to speak without opening his jaw sometimes.
Ectoplasm hummed a response absentmindedly, attention already withdrawn from Higari, as his brows knitted at presumably some logic jump a student had taken while solving a problem. This wouldn’t do.
Higari, taking the noncommittal noise as permission, continued staring. The other man was still dressed in his hero costume because there was a meeting for the hero class’ combat training happening, which meant Higari was thankfully exempt. He didn’t quite understand why Ectoplasm always agreed to be a punching bag for the students, but he supposed he didn’t have to understand it if Ectoplasm enjoyed doing it. Maybe he was just a masochist, since Ectoplasm seemed to be enjoying marking papers for almost two hours straight. After being Hatsume’s teacher for half a year, Higari felt he had learnt the true value of taking breaks, as it meant less damage to the development studio. That said, math homework seemed pretty unlikely to explode. Then again, there was that explosion kid from 1-A...
After watching Ectoplasm switch out one stack of paper for another, Higari decided he was going to make Ectoplasm take a break.
Higari started his attack by leaning over and pretending to reach for his pen that had rolled over to the far side of the coffee table, then sitting himself back down closer to the middle of the couch. After a moment of pretending to read the paper he'd picked up in addition, he shuffled slightly further toward Ectoplasm under the guise of sliding sideways from the dip in the couch. Ectoplasm had still not acknowledged him at all, so Higari decided to invade his space even more by leaning his head against the side of Ectoplasm’s arm. He’d have gone for his shoulder, but his short stature meant that it was impossible without propping himself up somehow. Damn tall people.
Being this close meant Higari could also see what Ectoplasm had been reading. Brushing a piece of his hair behind his ear, he realised Ectoplasm had moved on from marking to some sort of lesson plan. Something about close combat strategies and flexibility. Dragging his face forward across the other man’s arm, he looked up at Ectoplasm. Most people would struggle to tell where he was looking since he didn’t have pupils, but after knowing him for three decades Higari had figured out the difference between his “I’m reading” and “I’m paying attention to you” expressions. And this one was not the fun one.
Debating between straightening up or letting his head fall directly into the lesson plan, Higari decided to not crumple his companion’s work and instead slid both of his feet under himself so he was at eye height to Ectoplasm. He noticed his eyes that had narrowed in concentration relaxed again as he moved away. But only for a moment, as Higari wasn't done yet.
Higari placed his hands, fingers interlocked, over Ectoplasm’s shoulder and flatted the ridiculously oversized popped collar he wore so he could see his face. One time, he'd heard a student call it Ectoplasm’s ‘cone of shame’, which he’d had to look up the meaning for before agreeing that yeah, it did kind of look like one. Higari then leant in towards the now-exposed neck area and nuzzled his head into the nook. Ectoplasm stiffened in surprise before leaning his head slightly towards Higari.
Finally, a reaction!
Pressing on, Higari decided to nose around under the hinged jaw of Ectoplasm’s helmet. He could faintly smell spearmint and clove, a scent he’d come to associate with Ectoplasm over the years. He took in a deeper breath and sighed, causing Ectoplasm to shudder as warm air ghosted over his neck. He briefly considered taking off the helmet but realised Ectoplasm’s glasses weren’t anywhere within reach, and he didn’t want either of them getting up to look for them. Instead, Higari decided to start unbuttoning the top four buttons of the sleeveless trench coat the man insisted on wearing all the time. Ectoplasm had already undone the bottom two so he could stick his arms out and write. Without spreading the coat open too much, Higari slid his arms through and around Ectoplasm’s torso, dragging himself into the warmth and burying his face into his chest so that Ectoplasm could still see over his head.
Higari, enjoying his new position very much, decided to up the ante by brushing his cold, hard fingertips up Ectoplasm’s sides, wiggling them up towards his armpits. He felt him jump and clamp his arms down in an attempt to stop Higari advancing. Unfortunately for him, Higari's hands were much stronger from years of loosening stubborn bolts, and he successfully reached his goal: tickling Ectoplasm.
Ectoplasm jolted upright as his fingers hit their mark, the sudden movement knocking Higari away from his chest and onto his lap.
“H-Higari! Wait— my papers!” exclaimed Ectoplasm with the most heed he’d payed Higari in the past hour. At last, the attention was on him!
“You don’t need those papers, you need a break!” Higari said, sweeping a strand of hair away from his eye and grinning in his usual crazed way from his position on the other teacher’s lap.
“I’m still using them tho—oH! Hey! Be careful with that!” Higari had snatched the papers away and placed them on the table behind as he moved to straddle Ectoplasm’s legs. Ectoplasm tried lifting Higari off of him, but his arms were tangled in the coat’s fabric and pinned down by Higari’s weight.
“I think you’re done with them for now,” Higari purred, sliding the trench coat off of Ectoplasm’s shoulders and revealing the rest of his striped turtleneck, “let me help you relax.”
“N-Now’s not really the best time, uh, maybe give me a few more minutes..?” Higari felt the words buzzing through Ectoplasm's throat as he mouthed at his Adam’s apple through the fabric.
“And,” Higari continued, running his hands up the slender torso (which, in his opinion, shouldn’t be covered with a coat most of the time when Higari himself rarely even wore a shirt), “how would that help you?”
Ectoplasm swallowed thickly. “Ha-h… I’d be finished with what I’m doi-NGH!” Higari had slid his now-warm fingers down to the waist of Ectoplasm’s baggy pants and untucked the turtleneck.
Higari wiggled lower so that he could kiss along the exposed skin of his stomach, which freed Ectoplasm’s arms out from under him. It wasn’t a big deal though, since Higari was sure he’d won him over.
Which is why he was surprised when long hands abruptly gripped his torso and pulled him away with more force than he was expecting, and he was left facing Ectoplasm’s toothy, ceaseless grin. For a moment, Higari was worried he’d pissed him off, since he was being held up like a cat that was being held accountable for its crimes. Ectoplasm’s gravelly voice sent shudders through him as he spoke, “You have no idea what you’ve done, do you?”
Higari, who was torn between concern and excitement by this turn of events, managed to shake his head twice before Ectoplasm dove forward, his wider body enveloping him and nibbling at the side of his neck. Higari grasped at the taller man to avoid falling backwards off the couch but only succeeded in sliding further under him. Ectoplasm growled low in his ear, “You little tyrant.”
By now, Higari was very much on the defensive as Ectoplasm peppered him with little nips and licks along his ears, jaw, neck, and whatever else was within range, leaving Higari feeling breathless. Nonetheless, Higari was determined to not be outdone and teased, “are you calling me a naughty boy, Ectoplasm-sensei?”
He felt a huff of breath against his collarbone as Ectoplasm snorted. “I mean, you definitely deserve some sort of punishment for this. Or maybe I should just get revenge somehow, I haven’t decided yet.”
Higari pulled back a little and looked at him quizzically. “Revenge? For what?”
Ectoplasm hummed cryptically before continuing their impromptu make-out session. Several minutes later (Higari wasn’t exactly paying attention to the time), Higari heard the tapping of quickened footsteps approaching outside the apartment and paused to listen.
He looked towards the door for a moment, trying to place the sound to its owner. “Wait, is that—”
The door was thrown open as the original Ectoplasm stomped in, yelling “Higari! I was in the middle of a meeting! Couldn’t you have waited another ten minutes?”
It was at this point that it dawned on him that Ectoplasm had told him the meeting was at ‘16:00’ and not ‘6:00’, and that he’d been making out with a clone and not the original. Whoops.
Still sitting in clone-Ectoplasm’s lap, Higari started, “In my defence, I thought the meeting was at a different time. Why didn’t you stop me if you were in the middle of something?”
“I tried!” Ectoplasm cried, walking into the living room after shucking his coat off, “You kept dismissing me!”
“You never mentioned a meeting! Not once! You— you know what, I’m sorry about all this, I should have listened better. Did the meeting go okay at least?”
“Yes. It went well.” Ectoplasm sat next to them on the couch and humphed melodramatically. “No thanks to you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a straight face when someone has their cold fingers under your shirt? I was in the middle of explaining the training plan for the first years when you suddenly decide to stick your ass through my notes. I think Nemuri might’ve suspected something was up…” Ectoplasm put his head in his hands and groaned, “tomorrow is going to be hell if she puts two and two together, at least you can hide in the development studio.”
Higari slid off of clone-Ectoplasm’s lap and into the space between them, putting a hand on original-Ectoplasm’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry about all this, I should have been paying more attention…”
“It’s alright,” Ectoplasm said, leaning his head back over the edge of the couch and letting his eyes fall shut. “I know how you can make it up to me.”
Higari was about to ask how, when he was suddenly scooped up by the clone behind him, causing him to squeak in an undignified way as he was lifted off the couch. One Ectoplasm would struggle to carry him, but two held him easily as he was carted off towards the bedroom.
“I hope you've finished your marking.” one of the Ectoplasms chuckled before closing the door behind them.