Work Text:
Aizawa Shouta, also known as the hero Eraserhead – well, not so known, considering that he was an underground – opened his eyes at midnight, ready to leave the coziness of his house to get down to business. Huffing, he glanced at his eyes, testing the mattress to check if anyone was there: of course, it was empty.
He snorted – his husband was late, again. Probably got lost during his job, trying to catch as many villains as possible.
Don’t get him wrong – he was used to this, very much so. Many times his shift didn’t match his husband’s – though, it was also true that it was almost impossible to spend more than a few hours with his husband on a daily basis. Free days had little to nothing of free, but he couldn’t blame anyone for their lack of intimacy.
He snorted and, finally, left the warmth of his covers and took his phone to head towards the kitchen – he couldn’t say that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into before the wedding…
When you’re married with the great All Might and you’re the not-so-known Eraserhead, well, there might be more difficulties than a wrong shift. That is, frequently, All Might was a guest of various talk-shows, meetings, and parties and he could attend them with him neither as Eraserhead nor as Aizawa Shouta due to privacy issues and All Might’s enemies always lurking in the dark.
Walking into the kitchen to get a pack of juice from the fridge, he yawned, e stared down to check on their cat, Nana, a little ball of black fur and untamed hunger. She was sleeping peacefully on her cushions, purring in her sleep, and, for a moment, Shouta felt envy growing inside his chest.
Would there ever be a moment of peace in their life that allowed him and his husband to sleep as peacefully as their cat, without worrying about what was happening outside? Shouta hoped to believe that, yes, that day would come, at a certain point, but until then? They had to wait…
His phone buzzed in his hand and as he looked at the screen to read the message, his lips curved upwards into a sly smile.
Toshi:
Let’s meet midway. I’ll wait for you at the store of young Tenko.
Oh, he had to get ready: he had a date, it seemed.
**
As much as Toshinori Yagi was a huge romantic and would do everything to organize the most soft, elegant date for him and his husband, fate liked to play against him.
Sneezing, he crunched himself in a dark alley, under the iron stairs of an emergency exit, trying to shield himself from the rain. And, if you were asking, yes, that was the place of their improvised date. A shady, stinky alley – oh, gosh, he was so ashamed!
He missed the years when he was free to spoil Shouta with a fancy dinner in the privacy of their dining room, cooking for him his favorite food, drinking a good wine to then dance a slow swing on the terrace… Oh, he missed it a lot, but after the marriage, everything became more and more difficult, absurdly.
All Might gained popularity days after day, while Eraserhead had had the luck to become a teacher at UA and work as an underground at the same time. Their schedule was a mess, obviously – most of the time, they had lunch or dinner alone, either because the other was away or because he was asleep on the sofa or in the bedroom.
It was frustrating at times but Toshinori was sure: he’d choose Shouta over and over again if he had a chance.
There were those little moments of privacy, whenever he came back home, tired and worn-out, and Shouta just woke up and, instead of leaving him there, alone, he started kissing him to sleep, placing his lips on Toshinori’s temples to ease his migraine. Or, on the contrary, when Shouta slept like a dead man on the carped, too sleepy to walk, and Toshinori carried him to the bedroom, changing him into his pajama and caressing each and every scar onto the man’s body.
That was love, Toshinori was sure about it.
There were those little gestures – those little actions they gifted to each other – that made Toshinori cherish his relationship with Shouta more than everything else.
But it could be better – when he’d find his successor, everything would be better, granting him his relaxing life at the side of his husband.
“Hey, big boy,” a voice startled him, coming from the top of the building.
Toshinori came out from his little hideout and glanced at the rooftop, smirking widely as a man wearing a dark jumpsuit slid down like a spider, body upside-down, with half face covered by big, flashy googles.
“And what do we have here,” Toshinori retorted, getting closer to the face of said man, “Eraserhead, it’s nice to see you.”
His husband scoffed, “god, I’m starting to hate my hero name.”
Cupping his husband’s face with both hands, Toshinori wheezed and got their noses so close to touch for an Eskimo kiss, “don’t tell me. It’s so hard for me not to call you Shou in front of everyone,” and he kissed him softly.
“One day, you’ll sleep and call me that in front of the camera, don’t you?” Shouta asked, chasing Toshinori’s lips for another touch, lingering and forcing himself back. He had to wait for it – they couldn’t afford getting caught in the middle of the night, Toshinori knew that much, but still grunted when his husband interrupted the contact to get back on the roof.
Toshinori left his husband free to go – he knew he had to let him go, it was for a good cause, after all.
“And you’ll call me Toshi,” Toshinori whispered, staring at his husband figure jumping from a building to another.
On day…
If they wanted that bright future of theirs to arrive, they had work hard for it.
A peaceful, relaxing future.
