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Aizawa was late, like so incredibly late, he would be surprised if he wasn’t fired for real this time. Nezu had started to use his own expulsion and re-enrollment privileges against him, and he had been fired then reinstated twice already for being late to work. 

Hizashi had already left, and Aizawa vaguely remembered the night before when his husband reminded him that he had to go in early, so he would have to take the train if he wanted to sleep in. Fuck.

He grabbed stacks of papers off every possible surface and shoved them into his bag, looking around frantically for the paperwork Recovery Girl had forced him to fill out after Kirishima accidentally punched Midoriya a bit too hard and sent him flying into the wall at their last training session. It was something about liabilities and school policies, so when he saw the faded manila folder, hidden almost completely behind his nightstand, with the word IMPORTANT scribbled on the front in big block letters, he grabbed it and shoved it into his bag. 

He glanced at his phone and groaned when he saw the time, fuck, he was going to be so late.

Hizashi giggled when he saw his husband stumble into the staff room shortly before lunch ended. He filled up his own mug, sliding it over to Aizawa without a word. Aizawa groaned and drank it down quickly, lips quirking up into what Hizashi called his ‘thankful for caffeine smile.’

“Did you get fired again, Sho?” he asked, wiping imaginary dust off of his husband’s shoulders, really just wanting an excuse to touch him without being too openly affectionate. He wouldn’t mind a little PDA at work, but he knew his husband was a bit warier of it than he was. Aizawa glared at him, and Hizashi knew there was no real malice behind the look, but it might seem scary to anyone who didn’t know Shota as well as he did.

“Of course not, I made it here just in time. I even remembered to get that paperwork back to Midoriya so he could give it back to Recovery Girl,” he grumbled, leaning back against the counter. There were around ten minutes before lunch was over and he could already tell his husband was fighting the urge to pull out his sleeping bag and nap right through the rest of his classes for the day.

“She was really serious about him having to handle quirk related injuries on his own?” Hizashi asked. Aizawa nodded, leaning his head against Hizashi’s shoulder. He let him stay there for a moment, petting his hair gently. He was glad for quiet moments like this, where it was just the two of them.

And being that this was UA, their quiet moment didn’t last very long at all.

There were several sudden, loud, insistent knocks on the staff room door. Any teacher would have walked right in, but students usually waited until they were told to enter. This particular student did not wait, instead, they barged right in just as Aizawa managed to pull his head off of Hizashi’s shoulder.

It was Midoriya, blushing furiously and holding out a folder with the word IMPORTANT scribbled on the front.

“Aizawa-sensei,” he started the blush still creeping up his ears. “I think you gave me the wrong folder. I didn’t mean to look, but I saw what was in there. Please, forgive me for prying and for overstepping, but congratulations on your marriage,” he finished quickly, dropping into a low bow. 

That got Aizawa’s attention. And Hizashi’s too.

“What are you talking about, problem child?” Aizawa asked, walking forward to grab the folder from his student. He flipped it open, Hizashi still too busy staring at Midoriya incredulously to walk over and look at it with him.

“Oh,” he said, snapping it shut quickly. His voice sounded strained, incredibly so. Hizashi finally looked at his husband. He was pale and he looked like he was going to pass out. Midoriya was looking at the floor like he hoped it would swallow him up.

“Sh- Aizawa, what is it?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded light and teasing instead of incredibly concerned.

“Midoriya, thank you, and thank you for your well wishes, you can go,” Aizawa finally spoke, motioning at the still-open door. He had never seen someone exit a room so fast, all but slamming the door quickly behind him as he left. Hizashi laughed a little at Midoriya’s speed walking before he turned back to his husband.

Aizawa was clutching the folder to his chest, eyes panicked. 

“Sho,” Hizashi said softly, “it’s okay that he knows, he won’t tell anyone about us. He was too embarrassed to even look us in the eye when he congratulated us. I’m more confused about how you accidentally gave him something that said we’re married. Did you hand him our marriage certificate or something?” he joked. Aizawa finally looked up at him, then.

“You should probably sit down,” Aizawa said, all but shoving him down into the closest chair at the large coffee table. Now Hizashi was really concerned.

“What…?” he said, still confused.

“It turns out that the folder I gave Midoriya was not the paperwork for Recovery Girl, but the paperwork for our marriage license.” 

Hizashi laughed, all the panic flooding out of him in one quick motion. He giggled for a few seconds, holding his stomach. When he finally felt like he could breathe again, he looked back at his husband, wiping the tears off his face.

“Oh my god, you scared me for a second, but Sho, that isn’t possible. You turned that into the courthouse before we got married,” he said, fighting off a few leftover giggles. Aizawa didn’t laugh, still staring at him with that same panicked look in his eyes, clutching the folder tightly against his chest. Hizashi felt the color drain from his face.

“Shota, give me the folder,” he said, voice serious. Aizawa handed it over before burying his face in his capture weapon, hand pressed tightly over his mouth. He looked a little green, now.

Hizashi flipped it open and felt his stomach drop into his feet. Sitting at the very top of the stack of papers was the paperwork for their marriage certificate, signed by both of them, but undated and definitely not filed away in the courthouse where it should have been ten years ago.

“AIZAWA-YAMADA SHOTA! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TELLING ME WE AREN’T LEGALLY MARRIED?” he shouted, unable to stop his quirk from activating. The windows started to rattle and dust fell down from the ceiling as he yelled. His husband’s hair flew up, dancing around his face madly, eyes glowing red as he erased his quirk. He kept it activated as Hizashi continued, clearly feeling a little guilty.

“SHOTA WE HAVE BEEN FILING JOINT TAXES FOR TEN YEARS, WE ARE GOING TO GO TO JAIL FOR TAX FRAUD!” he yelled, voice loud enough even without his quirk.

“You’re concerned about that and not about the fact that we aren’t technically husbands?” Aizawa asked the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. Now was one of the few times that Hizashi was glad Nedzu had fought to have the staff-room made completely soundproof. No one needed to know how big of an idiot his husband was, and that his husband apparently wasn’t even his husband, officially at least. He threw his hands in the air. He wanted to punch something. Or get drunk. Maybe both.

“Of course I care about that you idiot, fuck,” he swore, turning back to his husband, who looked (rightfully so) a little afraid, quirk still activated. 

“I’m so sorry,” Aizawa said. Hizashi looked at his husband, all his anger leaving him all at once when he saw Aizawa’s face. He looked so hurt and sad and Hizashi wanted to cry a little. 

“I know it sucks, but it’s okay, Zashi, we can get an accountant to look at everything and file a claim or something, and I can take this to the courthouse after school and explain everything,” Aizawa said, finally letting his quirk go, hair falling in a heap around him. 

“Oh Sho, I’m not mad, please don’t freak out,” he grabbed the loose end of Aizawa’s capture weapon and pulled him close. “I’m a little annoyed, yeah, but not mad,” he said. Aizawa smiled a little too, now that he could tell Hizashi wasn’t actively pissed at him.

“You’re really not angry? I’ll do whatever you want, hell I’ll even let you feed me instead of just eating protein bars all day,” he said, smiling a little as Hizashi pressed a tiny kiss against his lips. Hizashi pulled back and rested their foreheads together. Suddenly, he had a light-bulb moment and couldn’t help but giggle.

“I’m really not angry. Like, of course, this shit would happen to us, I swear to god, but maybe this is a good thing. I’m definitely taking you up on the protein bar fiasco, but I have another idea ,” he said in the sing-song voice he often used to tease him. “We can always have another wedding,” he said, batting his eyelashes innocently at Aizawa, who visibly paled, again.

“No,” he whispered. Hizashi laughed, just this side of too loud, causing the coffee cup on the table to rattle violently.

“Don’t even think about it Sho, you got your small, family and close friends only wedding, now it’s my turn. I want my big, horribly loud wedding and you,” he poked his husband in the chest and pulled him closer, “owe me this,” he said, pressing a small kiss against Aizawa’s horrified face. After peppering him with kisses until Aizawa smacked him,  he let his husband pull away, still grumbling about PDA and weddings and courthouses. Hizashi headed back to his classroom, still laughing at Aizawa's horrified reaction.

He had a million thoughts running through his head, still slightly annoyed at the fact that his husband (fiance?) forgot to file their fucking marriage license, ten entire years ago. Mainly, though, he was excited. He had a (second) wedding to plan.

Aizawa had, understandably, let Hizashi handle the wedding preparations for the second time around. He knew literally nothing about weddings, other than his apparently didn’t fucking count (thanks to his own stupidity). He knew that Hizashi had wanted a big wedding the first time around, but he understood that it wasn’t at all what Aizawa had wanted and he settled. This time, though, there wasn’t even a hint of settling. Hizashi was pulling out every stop imaginable.

“Hey Sho?” he had asked, joining Aizawa on the couch, clutching his laptop in one hand and a stack of magazines in the other. Aizawa glanced at his laptop and winced. He was on some website for a venue and the price per hour made him want to throw up. He looked away.

“Yes?” he asked, looking back towards his paperwork. 

He noted that Kaminari and Kirishima finally seemed to be doing better in math now that they were being tutored by Yaoyorozu, who understood how to walk them through the concepts in a way that they could understand despite their dyscalculia. 

Mina was still struggling a bit with her dyslexia, but she was also improving. He couldn’t help but be proud of his students. When Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari had all come to him talking about their learning disabilities, he’d felt like he failed them by not realizing it sooner. He’d never gotten tutoring and lesson help set up so quickly, even Nedzu was a bit surprised at his quick turnaround on their paperwork. 

“Sho, I asked how you feel about karaoke?” Hizashi said, plopping his head dramatically down onto Aizawa’s stack of papers. Aizawa made a show about grumbling and complaining, but finally moved his papers onto the coffee table in favor of carding his fingers through Hizashi’s soft hair. He loved the way it curled slightly at the ends and was always so soft despite the ridiculous amount of product he used each day.

“Are you asking me because you want to know how I really feel, or are you asking me because you’re letting me know in advance that there will be a karaoke machine?” Hizashi at least had the decency to smile sheepishly at him.

“I wouldn’t force you to sing, obviously, but I think it would be fun! Some of the little listeners suggested it to me, actually and I -” Aizawa choked, coughing and sputtering. Hizashi just stared at him, unimpressed at his melodrama.

“You told them?” he asked. Hizashi rolled his eyes and started scrolling on his phone, still not moving from his place in Aizawa’s lap.

“Of course I told them, I had to get a headcount for invitations. Apparently your class loves you more than you think, I’m almost positive the entirety of class 1-A said they would be there. Even Bakugou, but he may have been forced to say yes by his friends,” he said. Aizawa groaned.

“Just how many people have you told, Zashi?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. As much as he didn’t want an insanely huge wedding, he still wanted Hizashi to be happy and have his dream day. He’d been guilty about it ten years ago, so he really wanted Hizashi to get what he wanted this time. He just didn't want to deal with insane amounts of people.

“Just class 1-A and 1-B. And the faculty obviously, and a few of my radio friends. Obviously our parents, but I didn’t tell them that we never officially got married and that we wanted to renew our vows for our ten-year anniversary,” he said, still scrolling. Aizawa peaked at his phone and saw him looking at wedding Pinterest boards. He smiled fondly down at his husband. He could put up with a karaoke machine and a crowd if it meant making him happy. 

He leaned down, tilting his head a bit to press a kiss against Hizashi’s mouth. He moved to pull away, after a moment, and go back to grading, but Hizashi followed him, moving until he was seated in Aizawa’s lap. They stayed there for a moment, pressed against each other, mouths moving in sync. Finally, Hizashi pulled away.

“As ridiculous as this situation is, like I am positive this would only happen to us, I am really excited I get to marry you all over again,” he said, staring fondly at Aizawa. 

“You’re such a sap, Zashi,” he said, and his soon-to-be-official husband just laughed and pulled him in for another kiss.

Yeah, he could deal with it. For Hizashi.

“So basically, Shota and I are flat out broke. We have enough money in our savings to cover the small stuff, invitations, and food, but we absolutely can’t afford to buy out an entire venue like we did for our first wedding,” Hizashi said, pausing to sip at his chamomile tea. 

“And this is where UA comes in, I assume?” Nedzu asked from his seat across the table. He was also drinking tea, in a much smaller glass. Hizashi made finger guns at him and grinned.

“Exactly. I don’t know what I need to do to convince you to let us use the gymnasium as our venue, hopefully for free” he said that last bit a tad quieter before he continued, “but I’ll do it. It also just makes sense since so many little listeners and teachers want to attend!” he finished, hoping that would spur Nedzu into loaning them the gym for a day. 

He had been a little surprised to walk into school that morning and see everyone positively buzzing about the upcoming wedding. Rumors floated down the halls, whether they were about how long he and Aizawa had been together, if they were doing it for some undercover mission, how Hizashi managed to put up with Aizawa and vice versa. Normally, the incessant chatter about his personal life would be a bit annoying, but he couldn’t help but be excited. It was actually a student, Tsuyu Asui, that gave him the idea about using the gym. 

He’d been preparing for English to start when he overheard them talking. He wasn’t eavesdropping, but his hearing aids were specifically designed to enhance his hearing and if Hatsume Mei, who had insisted she work on his hearing aids instead of Power Loader, had gone a bit overboard and given him really enhanced hearing, he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Tsu had mentioned that it would be “super cool” if the wedding was held on campus, that way they wouldn’t have to find an escort to the venue. And damn it, Hizashi hadn’t thought of that himself. He had almost forgotten that the entire student body lived in dorms now and that leaving to go to a wedding might be impossible for some, if not most of them. 

Which is what brought him to Nedzu’s office, long after classes were over, to beg for permission to use the gymnasium for their wedding, which was now, if he got permission, just a few short weeks away. 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t allow the both of you to use the gymnasium for your wedding,” Hizashi perked up at that, “but I will obviously have to insist that you furnish the decorations, food and drink, and clean up afterward,” Nezu said. Hizashi nodded, already thinking of how to decorate, would a balloon arch be too cheesy? It would be, but Shota would hate it, which kind of made him want it even more.

“I also wouldn’t say no to a tea bar, since alcohol is obviously prohibited on school grounds,” Nedzu said, that same knowing smile on his face. Hizashi grimaced. Nemuri was going to kill him.

Just a few days after he got the confirmation from Nedzu, Hizashi was given another good idea, this time from Tenya Iida. He had stopped by Aizawa’s homeroom to deliver his bento box for lunch, he’d taken Aizawa’s promise to heart and had him eating lunch and dinner now.

When he handed off his bento box, he was stopped at the door by Iida, who flapped his arms about as he usually did to get his attention.

“Present Mic-Sensei! We were talking, and respectfully, we would like to offer our assistance and help in any way we can with your wedding!” he said, bowing low. Hizashi smiled at him.

“That’s very sweet, Iida, but -” he started to say, quickly cut off by a flurry of voices all speaking at once. 

“Oh my gosh yes,” Hagakure squealed, “we can totally help decorate or something!” 

“And I can help with music,” Jirou spoke up, blushing, “I know you obviously know about music, sensei, but if I can help in any way please let me know!”

“And me and Bakubro can help with the heavy lifting!” Kirishima said, throwing an arm over the loud blonde’s shoulder, which he growled at, but didn’t shrug off.

“But -”

“Oh! I’ve been working on a rescue move that could totally be useful, sensei!” Kaminari spoke, standing up excitedly. “I can help charge and power any generators you might need!”

“Why would he need a generator, you extra, it’s obviously going to be inside somewhere! Buildings have their own power!”

“I know that, Kacchan -”

“I told you not to call me that!”

“ALL RIGHT LITTLE LISTENERS, LISTEN UP!” Hizashi yelled, activating his quirk at the lowest possible volume. It was still loud enough to make the desks rattle and students hurry to cover their ears. Aizawa didn’t bother activating his quirk, just sat back, face buried in his capture weapon. Hizashi knew he was smiling underneath, though he would never actually admit it.

“You all seriously want to help?” he asked. He was met with a chorus of enthusiastic yes’ from the students of 1-A. 

“What do you think, Sh - Eraserhead?” Aizawa looked up at him, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“First, you can call me Shota. They literally know we’re getting married. You invited them to our wedding. Second, I don’t care, if they want to help, that's fine with me, but we really should start class. And you have your own homeroom to get to, if I’m not mistaken,” he said smirking at Hizashi from his podium. Hizashi swore and walked towards the door again.

Iida and a few of the other students were still talking about ways they could contribute.

“I appreciate the offers, little listeners! Aizawa-sensei, can you make a signup sheet for classes 1-A and 1-B? For whoever signs up, can you ask them to write down a few things they want to help with?” he asked, already walking out the door.

So he had a venue, and he had volunteers to help get everything set up. Now he needed to think about what the hell they were going to wear. 

“Wait hold on, we already have over fifty volunteers?” Hizashi asked, staring at the, he counted quickly, five-page long sign up sheet that Shota had thrust at him as soon as he had gotten home from work.

“Yep, every student from Class 1-A and 1-B. Even the two transfers signed up, Shinsou Hitoshi and the transfer student with the water quirk, I think she said her name is Tobe Hoshiko. She spends most of her time with Recovery Girl since she has a healing quirk, so you may not have met her yet,” he explained, bending down to pat Sushi on the head.

“I don’t think I’ve met most of these kids, did you offer extra credit or something?” he asked, still poring over the massive list of names.

“No, I think they’re just genuinely excited to help, babe.”

“I guess I’m just surprised,” he said, leaning back into the couch. Aizawa joined him and leaned against his side, attention already back on his own stack of papers. After Shinsou had joined class 1-A a few days prior, he’d been up to his elbows in extra paperwork and grading, not to mention the extra training sessions they had started doing. Hizashi pretended not to notice how quickly Aizawa had taken the purple-haired boy under his wing.

“Oh, by the way, we have to go see Best Jeanist on Saturday, he needs to get our measurements again,” Hizashi said as he opened his laptop. He needed to make a spreadsheet or something. He had no idea how to divide up the tasks.

“Ugh, fine. Also, you don’t need to worry about any of that,” Aizawa said, motioning at his furrowed brow and the way he was staring intently at the signup sheet. 

“Iida and Mina all but forced me to let them handle the volunteers and their jobs. Apparently Mina is meant to be a wedding designer because she had a few choice words with Iida when he said he could handle it on his own. Yaoyorozu is also helping keep everything organized and she offered to be in charge of making the decorations. You just have to tell her what you want,” he said, still scribbling down notes.

“Where was all this help ten years ago?!” Hizashi squawked. Aizawa just looked at him, a deadpan look on his face.

“You threatened me with bodily harm if I even thought about hiring a wedding planner ten years ago,” he reminded him. Hizashi managed to look indignant for about thirty seconds until he dissolved into laughter, leaning back into the couch again, this time pulling up his Pinterest boards again. He still had to have at least somewhat of an idea to give to Jeanist so the hero could create their outfits.

When Saturday rolled around, Hizashi all but dragged Aizawa into Best Jeanist’s agency. They were both off duty, so Hizashi hadn’t bothered to do his hair or put on his leather hero costume. He was instead wearing his favorite jeans and a comfy pink sweater, his glasses perched on top of his hair, which he wore in a simple braid. Aizawa was in the same jumpsuit he usually wore, just without his capture weapon. 

Part of the reason why Hizashi chose such a flamboyant hero costume, other than the obvious reason of how insanely cool he looked, was that when he wasn’t Present Mic, he was almost unrecognizable from the pro-hero persona he’d cultivated over the years. Being recognized as a pro-hero happened often enough, but with the added success of his radio show, he was stopped constantly when he was out and about as Present Mic, so the days where he didn’t have to embody his persona were some of his favorites.

It didn’t seem to matter this time, though, because it wasn’t even Hizashi that got recognized, it was Aizawa. They’d walked up to the secretary at Jeanist’s agency to let them know they had arrived when a loud voice called out:

“As I live and breathe, Aizawa Shota! Fancy running into you here!” Aizawa stiffened beside him as they both turned. Hizashi had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor. Hawks, as in the number two pro hero Hawks, was walking towards them, loud crimson wings spread wide.

“I haven’t seen you in ages! You get decently good at guitar and you stop coming around,” he joked, slapping Aizawa on the shoulder as he did. He turned to Hizashi, then, and held out a hand. He didn’t seem to recognize him at least.

“Hi, you must be Aizawa’s husband! I’m Takami Keigo, but you can just call me Hawks,” he said. Hizashi clasped his hand and managed to shake himself out of his stupor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hawks, I’m Hizashi,” he said, leaving out his own surname in hopes of staying unrecognizable. The pro hero might not know who Present Mic was, but he didn’t want to risk it. He turned back towards Aizawa. “You good, babe?” he asked, fighting back a smirk as Aizawa glared at him.

“So what brings you to see Jeanist, Eraser?” he asked, leaning against the counter. Aizawa looked like he wanted to run out of the building, so Hizashi finally took pity on him.

“We’re renewing our vows in a few weeks, you should definitely come by the way, and Jeanist is going to help us out with our outfits,” he said. Hawks smiled broadly at that, wings fluttering a bit behind him.

“I’d love to come! I can get the details out of old Eraserhead here. He never did tell me, what do you do for work, Hizashi?” he asked. Now it was Hizashi’s turn to panic, but luckily fate seemed to be on their sides, as Best Jeanist finally appeared to let them know he was ready to see them.

“It was nice talking to you, Hawks!” Hizashi called over his shoulder as they followed Jeanist into his studio.

“You could’ve told him who you were, Zashi, he’s apparently a huge fan of yours,” Aizawa said, smirking at Hizashi’s discomfort. Hizashi scoffed.

“Yeah, and I’m a fan of Endeavor,” he teased, walking over to greet Jeanist properly. Aizawa just laughed but didn't comment further. 

“All right, where do you want us?”

There was less than a week left to go until the wedding, and Hizashi was so incredibly grateful for all the support he’d received so far. With patrols, his radio show, and teaching, he had realized quickly that if it wasn’t for the help of his students and friends, he never would have gotten everything planned in time.

Thinking back, he wasn’t sure how he managed it the first time, either. Sure, the wedding itself had been a lot smaller, so there had been less to plan for, but still. With the few responsibilities he had managed to steal away from Iida, Yaoyorozu, and Mina, he was still a little in over his head.

Which led him to his current debacle. He had been in his classroom during lunch, on the phone with the catering company he’d hired, for over an hour at this point. Somehow, someway, they had misplaced his order and they were, as they put it, “very sorry, but we can’t possibly fulfill your order in time” and he was seconds away from losing control of his quirk and shouting the poor woman to death.

“Listen, I understand that mistakes happen, but this is my wedding. Mistakes can’t happen, not this time, ” he hissed into the receiver, pinching the bridge of his nose firmly. Again, the woman spouted off a bunch of apologies, assuring him that he’d receive a full refund plus a gift card for his troubles, but they really couldn’t cater to his wedding at such short notice.

With a frustrated sigh, he finally hung up as the first students after lunch began trickling into class.

“Present Mic-sensei?” a voice asked. He took a deep breath, trying to force his anger out of him. He would not take his frustrations out on the little listeners, not with all the help they’d given him so far.

“Yes?” he asked, finally looking up. Sato was standing in front of his desk, a sheepish grin on his face.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation when I walked in, and maybe I can help!” he offered. Hizashi smiled at him.

“That’s very sweet of you, little listener,” he started, feeling a little guilty at the way Sato straightened up, obviously excited. “But unless you know a catering company that is willing to make all of the food and the cake with just a week's notice, I’m not sure how you can really help,” he said, standing to start writing today’s notes on the board.

“I can make your cake!” Sato exclaimed. Hizashi turned, staring at the boy incredulously.

“Sato, I can’t ask -”

“No, seriously, I can do it! I’ve made them before, not actually for a wedding but for fun! Look!” Sato was holding out his phone for him to grab. He did and saw it was open to an Instagram page called Sato’s Sweet Treats. He tried not to squeal openly at how cute that was, and instead looked at some of the photos.

They were impressive. There were countless photos of wedding cakes, some small and some huge, over six tiers tall. He had just about every dessert imaginable on his page, and Hizashi wasn’t surprised to see he had a huge following.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Sato? I already accepted so much help from you little listeners as it is,” he said, worrying his lip between his teeth. Sato nodded enthusiastically and Hizashi blinked when Bakugou appeared beside him.

“Not to be rude, sensei, but if you don’t let Sato make your cake then I’m not coming to your shitty wedding, no one makes better cake than him,” he said. Hizashi didn’t blink at Bakugou’s harsh language, and just nodded and gave Sato the okay to go ahead with making the cake. He clapped Bakugou on the shoulder excitedly, asking him if he wanted to help. Hizashi half expected Bakugou to blast him through the wall of the classroom, but instead, he just nodded before turning to go to his seat.

Okay, so the cake was taken care of. What the hell were they going to do for food? He paled, suddenly. He’d already promised Nedzu a tea bar. Fuck.

“Sho, we are officially screwed,” Hizashi said, flopping face-first onto the bed. Aizawa was almost asleep, he’d left Hizashi in the living room after his fifteenth call to random catering companies. 

Hizashi had hoped that just needing food and drinks would make them an easier client to take on, but no, a week was still cutting it way too close. At this point, he would have to order fucking KFC for his wedding.

“Why?” Aizawa said, rolling over to lay directly across Hizashi’s back. He tried not to laugh when Aizawa’s hair tickled his neck. 

“I can’t find anyone to make food for the wedding,” he said, words muffled against the pillow he had his face pressed against. 

“What?”

Hizashi groaned and wiggled until he was turned around and Aizawa was laid across his chest.

“I can’t find a caterer. We’re going to have to eat KFC at our wedding,” he said, sighing dramatically. Aizawa snorted.

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said. Hizashi smacked him.

“I don’t want everyone’s hard work to be ruined because I couldn’t find a single person in Japan willing to cater,” Hizashi finally said, voice wobbling a bit. Aizawa looked up him and he tried to subtly wipe his eyes.

“Zashi, no one cares about the food. They care about you, us,” he said, running his hand reassuringly down Hizashi’s chest.

“Well I care, this was supposed to be our perfect day all over again and I feel like I ruined it already,” he said. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the tears pooling in his eyes. Suddenly, all the air was knocked out of him as Aizawa sat up, straddling his hips.

“Hizashi, I love you so much, but you are so stupid.”

“Hey!”

“We could get married in an alley beside a dumpster and it would still be perfect because it’s you I’m marrying. I don’t care where it is or what we eat, I only care about you,” he said, wiping away the tears that spilled over onto his husband’s face.

“Sho, if you keep this up I will be telling everyone you’re a hopeless romantic,” he giggled. “First you write me a love song and then you say all this,” he smiled, pulling him down to pepper his face with kisses.

“As if they’d ever believe you,” Aizawa smirked, moving to kiss down Hizashi’s neck. He shivered when he spoke again, words low and rough. “I worked hard to cultivate my reputation. Can’t have you ruining it, now can I?” he said, lips ghosting over the shell of Hizashi’s ear.

“Ah, Shota, as much as I appreciate the distraction,” he said, clutching at his husband’s arms, “I still have to figure out the whole catering thing.”

Aizawa sighed.

“You’re impossible,” he said, pressing his lips against Hizashi’s again, kissing him deeply. He pulled away after a moment and moved to lay beside him, quickly grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Hizashi asked, glancing at his phone.

“I’m going to see if Fat Gum would be willing to help cook the food for us, he’s made dinner for us before when I went on that stakeout for Tsukauchi. Speaking of, you better remember to invite him or he might kill me,” he said, tapping out a quick message to the pro hero.

“Sho, you’re a lifesaver, tell him if he says yes I will never sing about him on the radio again,” he said.

“Please, if that’s all it takes I’ll cook everything myself,” Aizawa said, still tapping on his phone. 

“Hey! I never mention you by name,” he argued.

“Yeah but you talk constantly about your ‘darling husband’ and now everyone knows it's me. Wait, speaking of, how did you explain to your radio show that we are only just now getting married but you’ve called me your husband for years?” he asked.

“I just said that we are renewing our vows, same story I told the kiddos. For all intents and purposes, we’ve been married for years and wanted to do something special for our anniversary,” he explained. Aizawa hummed in response before flashing his phone screen at Hizashi.

“Fat Gum wants to know how you feel about Korean Barbeque, and he also said you better not stop singing about him,” Aizawa said, quickly covering his ears as Hizashi squealed loudly, quirk activating in his excitement. Aizawa snorted as a picture frame fell off their bedside table, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. Hizashi picked it up and put it back in its place, smiling sheepishly.

Hizashi could finally breathe now that he knew the food was covered. He could figure out the stupid tea bar Nedzu wanted himself, all he needed was a few automatic kettles and some fancy-ass luxury tea the little rat man would enjoy.

He was so excited, it seemed like everything was going to work out after all.

They’d planned for the wedding to be on a Saturday, so all the students who had signed up to help get everything together would have the day to prepare. Nemuri had commandeered each of their homeroom classes as their own designated space to get ready, and she absolutely refused to let them see each other before they were walking down the aisle. 

“Nemuri, you act like we haven’t already done this,” Hizashi complained, wanting desperately to go check on Aizawa, who was currently being looked after by Tensei Iida and Thirteen.

“I don’t care, a wedding is a wedding and I love all the stupid traditions that go along with them, plus as your maid of honor -”

“Self-appointed,” Hizashi pointed out. She smacked him with the hairbrush she was running through his hair. 

“As your maid of honor, I get to decide when you see your husband, so shut it,” she said, a warning in her voice. Hizashi mimed zipping his mouth and throwing away the key, choosing instead to talk about the little listeners currently wreaking havoc on the gymnasium. Every now and again he could hear Bakugou screaming and the sound of explosions, which did absolutely nothing to reassure him.

“Well can you at least hurry it up so I can go check on the little listeners? It sounds like Bakugou is trying to kill someone,” he half-joked. Nemuri smacked him again and he yelped.

“I told you to let them handle it, stop being such a control freak. You showed Yaoyorozu your ideas, you told Sato about what you wanted for the cake, everything is going to be fine. Now there, what do you think?” she asked, finally letting go of his hair and holding out a mirror.

He sucked in a sharp gasp when he saw his reflection. She’d left his hair natural for the most part, choosing to do a half-up, half-down look. His hair was connected by two large braids that she had twisted into an elegant bun. She’d tied everything together with a soft, yellow ribbon that was the same material as his shirt.

“Wow, fabulous job, Nemuri! Oh, you’re welcome, Hizashi,” she teased, poorly mimicking his voice. He smiled at her, pulling her into a grateful hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling against her hair. 

“Of course, babe,” she patted him on the back gently. “Now, I need to go check on Aizawa, as his maid of honor, don’t give me that look, I need to make sure he looks just as sexy as you do. You’ve got about an hour, so don’t get all dressed up yet. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done with the insomniac,” she said, leaving the room with a swish of her navy blue dress.

Hizashi groaned. An hour. What the hell was he supposed to do while he waited?

Aizawa may or may not have been a second away from jumping out the window and running to Hizashi’s classroom. Somehow, he was more nervous now than he’d been ten years ago. Maybe it was the fact that he had actually gotten their paperwork turned in on time. Hizashi had come with him when he went to the courthouse, and they’d explained the entire situation. The clerk had laughed at them for a solid thirty minutes, much to Aizawa’s embarrassment, before promising them that she would update their records to show they’d been married this entire time, which he was extremely grateful for.

Still, though, he was extremely nervous. He had no idea what to expect. He knew Hizashi was going to go all out, he had said himself that he wanted a big, loud, obnoxious wedding. Aizawa wanted him to have it, too, but he couldn’t help but be a little freaked.

He’d always hated crowds, not even because he was antisocial, okay that was part of it, but he just didn’t do well around lots of people. There was always so much going on that he would inevitably shut down and find somewhere quiet to hide until it was over.

He didn’t want to do that, today, though, so he was trying to calm down. It didn’t help that Nemuri kept smacking him with her hairbrush when he didn’t answer her questions.

“Aizawa, if you don’t respond I’m just going to shave all your hair off. I asked if you had a preference for your hair being up or down?” she asked again, still brushing through the leftover tangles.

“I don’t care, Nemuri, just do something. Hizashi would kill me if I left it like I normally do,” he grumbled, sinking further down into his seat. 

“I think up, then,” she said, hands already twisting his hair into some sort of braid, “he’s going to want everyone to see your face,” she said, smirking down at him. Aizawa couldn’t stop his hand from going to his face, running a finger over the scar just underneath his eye.

His stomach churned. He wanted to cover it up. He knew Hizashi didn’t care about it, but he didn’t have this scar ten years ago, and they had planned to take more photos. He didn’t want them to be ruined because he had this scar now. 

He dropped his hands down to his lap, clenching his fists tightly. Nemuri caught the action and her hands stilled in his hair.

“Shota,” she started, voice trailing off. She walked around to crouch in front of him, grabbing his hand and bringing it back up to his face.

“You know this scar means you survived, right? You lived through something so horrific, you fought like tooth and nail to save those kids, and you did, ” she said. Aizawa curled in on himself a bit. He did not want to talk about the USJ.

“We don’t have to talk about it, but I promise, no one thinks less of you because of it, certainly not Hizashi. I can leave your hair down if you want,” she said, going back to undo her braid.

“No, it’s fine,” he said, voice a little strained. He cleared his throat. “I know you’re right. I don’t care about the scar. I’m just…” he trailed off. He was worried about fucking up Hizashi’s big day.

“I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about,” Nemuri said, carefully twisting his hair. “Have a little faith in your husband, Aizawa,” she said. After a few more moments, she was finished and held out a mirror for him to see what she’d done.

She’d forgone a braid, and instead pulled his hair back into a low bun, the same way he usually did when he pulled his own hair out of his face, but better somehow. He looked nice, he thought.

“All right, enough gawking, you need to get dressed. Thirteen, can you help him with his clothes, I need to go make sure Hizashi isn’t dead,” she said, already halfway out the door.

Thirteen walked over and Aizawa smiled softly at them. 

“You know she’s right, Shota,” they said, handing over his shirt.

"Don't tell her I said this, but she usually is," he said, laughing along with Thirteen's quiet giggles. He pulled on his shirt and started to do up the buttons.

The shirt was white and soft against his skin. It fit loosely but didn’t hang off of him. He was instructed by Best Jeanist to leave the top two buttons undone and to do something called a french tuck, which Thirteen helped him with. His pants were black, fitted, and skinny at the ankle.

Hizashi hadn’t wanted to wear anything too fancy, said it was hard to dance in a stuffy suit, so they’d gone with flowy shirts and easy to move in pants. He didn’t know what Hizashi was wearing, but he knew it would be interesting, to say the least. 

Hizashi was just pulling on his own shirt, a pale yellow shirt in the same style as Shota’s, just with a few more frills. It had some lace stitching down the back and lace bow in the front. He was wearing the same pants as Aizawa. He had finally finished buttoning up his shirt when Nemuri stormed in, Tensei following behind her in his wheelchair.

“You look great, buddy,” Tensei said, wheeling over to clap him on the arm. Hizashi smiled at him, spinning dramatically to show off the full ensemble.

“Jeanist did a great job,” Nemuri purred, running her perfectly manicured hands down his arms. “Just wait til you see Aizawa, you’re gonna lose it,” she smirked. Hizashi’s hands twitched, the sudden anticipation making his stomach rollover.

“Is it time?” he asked, fiddling with his sleeves nervously.

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p.’ “The kiddos figured everything out, so you don’t have to worry about a thing. Just follow us,” she said, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the room. He tried to sneak a glance in Aizawa’s classroom, but apparently Nemuri had thought of that and had blocked out the tiny window so he couldn’t see in at all.

“You’ll see him in a second, stop panicking,” she said. He grumbled a bit but stayed silent as he followed her towards the gymnasium. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his hearing aids already picking up the excited chatter coming from the gymnasium.

Nemuri stopped him at the door, Tensei rolling to a stop beside them. She pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him tight enough to knock the breath out of him.

“We have to go in first, ‘kay? When the song starts, all you have to do is follow the lights,” she said cryptically, opening the door just wide enough for Tensei and herself to squeeze through. She gave him a thumbs-up before she disappeared through the double doors.

Hizashi waited for about a minute until a soft song began to play. It was familiar, a soft, simple acoustic number he couldn’t quite place. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. With a deep breath, he opened the door.

He took one look at the gymnasium, and all he could do was gasp.

Several hours earlier.

“All right everyone, listen up! You have all been informed of your assignments, but I want to go over everything again just to be safe! Kirishima, Tetsutetsu, Kendo, and Koda, oh and you too Midoriya, you guys are in charge of getting all the seats and tables brought in! We already laid down the tarp, so you just have to grab them from over there,” Yaoyorozu gestured towards the farthest wall of the gymnasium, where there were several tables and chairs set aside.

“Sato, Bakugo, and Fat Gum are working on food, so we need to be ready to bring that in as soon as it’s ready.”

“Kaminari, Sero, and Mina, you guys are in charge of the lanterns. Kaminari, you just need a small voltage to go inside the lantern, then they can be sealed and Mina can use her acid to make sure they stay sealed and stuck to the posts we set up,” she gestured towards the two archways leading that snaked down each entrance to the gym. Aizawa would be walking down one, and Present Mic down the other.

“Hoshiko, Tsu, Uraraka, you guys are in charge of the water feature Mina told me about!,” she continued speaking, dishing out jobs for a few more minutes until everyone knew where they should be located. Kaminari walked over to the pile of lanterns Yaoyorozu had created with her quirk.

“Okay, so I think a really small spark should work,” Kaminari said, holding one of the lanterns in his hand as he inspected it closely. Hatsume had designed them specifically to run on Kaminari’s quirk, so they were perfectly capable of holding his electricity. He hoped.

He created a small spark in the palm of his hand, pushing it gently into the tiny ball that he then shoved inside the lanterns. They were made of some kind of kinetic material that Hatsume had assured him wouldn’t catch on fire if his electricity were to escape. Once he had the lanterns set up, he sent them over to Mina and Sero who got to work hanging them from each post. 

He set a few aside to give to Uraraka so they could go on top of Hoshiko’s water feature. As they worked, Uraraka, Hoshiko, and Tsu got to work on their part.

“Hey, Hoshiko! I’m so glad we get to work together on this,” Uraraka said, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as the three girls walked towards the center of the gym. She was wearing a pale pink dress with tiny bows all over it, and it swished as she walked.

Hizashi had given them a few ideas based on his Pinterest boards, but Mina had taken them and ran. She had approached Hoshiko and Uraraka a few days ago to talk about a really cool floating fountain idea she had, and Uraraka had been so excited.

“Me too! This is seriously so cool, we never did anything like this at Shiketsu! And I finally get to spend some time with my classmates, which is awesome,” Hoshiko said, smiling widely at Uraraka and Tsu.

“That’s right, kero,” Tsu said, her finger against her chin. “You spend most of your time with Recovery Girl, right?” Tsu was wearing her hair up in an intricate bow, and a forest green jumpsuit that matched her hair.

“I do, since my quirk is healing based, and I want to be a healer like her, I got special permission to spend most of my hero classes with her! I still train with 1-B, but usually, I’m practicing or on the sidelines, in case someone’s quirk goes haywire,” she said. She was wearing a pale blue skirt with a flowery white top that sparkled a bit under the lights.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Hoshiko said, gesturing at the ceiling above them. “With my quirk, I can control water. Usually I use that for healing, but I can also just control it normally, kind of like telekinesis! So I can create these streams of water that can stay pretty much suspended around me as long as I need them to. We can use your quirk, Uraraka, to make them float! If I can be pretty precise with it, I should be able to make some pretty cool shapes. I’ve been practicing a lot, so I’m pretty confident,” she finished.

“That’s so cool!” Uraraka squealed. Tsu nodding her head in excitement too.

The three got to work quickly. Hoshiko held out her hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she began to create jets of water. It was almost like she was painting, weaving the strands in and out of each other until she had created an intricate pattern. Once she was ready, Uraraka touched the water gently, floating it up until it covered the ceiling. Once she was satisfied with how high up it was, she called Kaminari over.

“Don’t let any of that fall on me, or we will all die,” he joked, skin still crackling with leftover lightning from using his quirk. He had a handful of extra lanterns, which he handed to Ururaka and Tsu.

“Don’t worry,” Hoshiko reassured him, “I have complete control over it, ance once I’m finished with it, I just have to call it back to me,” she said, shooting his signature finger guns back at him. He laughed, pointing his own back at her as he walked back to Mina.

Uraraka quickly touched Tsu so she could float up to the ceiling and place the lanterns on different points of the water sculpture. As she did so, the gym became lit up with sparkling, flickering lights from Kaminari’s stored electricity. It was breathtaking to look at.

Tsu pushed off the ceiling and floated back down to Uraraka, who released her from her quirk. Hoshiko and Tsu went off to see if Mina needed them for anything else, and Uraraka went to lend her quirk to the students setting up tables. 

Meanwhile, in the 1-A Dorm kitchens, Bakugo and Sato were in a heated debate about the cake decoration.

“I’m telling you, Bakugou, I’ve made dozens of wedding cakes, and fondant is disgusting. No one wants to eat it,” Sato said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bakugou scoffed, still scowling.

“So? Who cares about what it tastes like, it’s just supposed to be pretty or some shit,” he growled. Sato gasped like Bakugou had personally offended him.

“I did not spend all day making these so they could get ruined by waxy sugar,” he argued, “just help me ice them like this, it will still look amazing,” Sato said firmly, already beginning to ice the largest tier.

The cake was pretty traditional, as far as looks went. The inside, though, is what Sato was extremely proud of. He’d layered each tier perfectly so it was a mixture of golden yellow and black, carefully swirling the two so they created a marbled effect that wouldn’t be seen until they actually sliced it. He really hoped Present Mic-sensei would like it.

“All right, you’re lucky that you know more about this than me, or I’d blast your head off for disagreeing,” Bakugou said. Sato just laughed, used to Bakugou’s attitude, and showed him how to start spreading around the icing smoothly. Once they were iced, Sato started shoving in decorative flowers and pearls until he was satisfied.

Fat Gum, on the opposite side of the 1-A dorm kitchen, was slaving away over the stove, attempting to make around a dozen different sauces and sides to go along with the Korean Barbeque he’d planned. He had already sliced the meat and had it marinating in the fridge, ready to be served to each table so they could grill it to their liking.

Pretty soon, the three of them were finished with their preparations, and Fat Gum sent Bakugou to the gym to let Mina and the others know they were ready to bring everything out.

“Hey, pinky! Cake and food’s ready, you guys better have the tables and grills set up or I’ll kill every one of you!” he shouted, letting off a few small explosions as he entered.

“Perfect, Bakubro! We just finished getting the tables ready!” Mina said, skipping over to him, Uraraka in tow.

“Uraraka is going to come to help you guys bring in the cake, it’ll be easiest if we use her quirk to bring it in so it doesn’t get jostled by someone carrying it,” Mina said, following Bakugou and Uraraka back to the kitchen.

They quickly loaded themselves down with food, dishes, and drinks and hurried back to the gym. Fat Gum managed to carry in all the platters of meat, and once he had them set back down on the table, he started to portion everything out so it could be set at each table.

“Todoroki! You’re up!” Mina shouted, grabbing the boy from where he was lurking near Midoriya.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, following Mina back to the front of the gym, where they had set up the tables. 

They’d basically split the gym in two, with the front half being where the ceremony would take place, with the back half being where the reception would be. The tables were spread out in a large circle, leaving plenty of room in the middle for a dancefloor. Jirou was there, in a purple dress and bow, getting her DJ equipment setup, practicing for when she had to start the entrance song.

“Basically we need you to create a bunch of ice chunks, as cold as you can get them. We have some bowls on each table that need to be filled that way the meat can stay cold until everyone gets ready to eat,” she finished, showing him the large, silver bowls located at the center of each table, next to the grill. He nodded and got to work, carefully creating large chunks of ice, shaving them down to fit inside the bowls. He was done relatively quickly, wiping the residual frost off his cheeks and signaled to Mina that they could start setting the food at each table.

They finished with thirty minutes to spare, and Fatgum and Nezu congratulated the students on their hard work and told everyone to go freshen up before the ceremony. They all rushed off to do that, leaving the crowded gym suddenly empty. 

When Hizashi walked through the double doors, he almost stopped breathing. He walked slowly along, trying to keep in time with the song, in awe of his surroundings. 

He was walking underneath a delicate archway, a structure made of vines and white roses, decorated with dozens sparkling lanterns. The floor was covered in a simple, smooth tarp that muffled his footsteps. He could hear the excited chatter from his students and friends as he walked, and he tried to push down the nerves in his stomach, resisting the urge to wipe his sweaty palms on his shirt.

He continued walking, still, in awe of how above and beyond, plus ultra , he thought, giggling a bit, his students had gone. He couldn’t have imagined something so beautiful, even in his wildest dreams. 

Before he knew it, he was at the center of the archway, where it suddenly stopped in front of a podium, where Nemuri was stood, smiling softly down at him. He grinned back at her, craning his head down the other archway, where he assumed Shota would be walking in. He took a second to look around while he waited for his, even on their (second) wedding day, husband was a little behind.

He had to hold in another gasp as he saw the rest of the gym. There was an incredibly intricate water feature, suspended in midair and sparkling with paper lanterns, high above their heads. It cast the entire gym in a golden light that made everything seem ethereal.

There were several rows of simple, white chairs, each with his closest friends and students. He could see class 1-A and 1-B, all grinning and waving at him and he shot them a subtle thumbs up. He saw Tensei sat beside Thirteen and Toshinori, Nedzu on the opposite of him, along with the rest of his coworkers and friends. Tsukauchi and his sister waved happily at him from their seats in the third row. He even saw Hawks standing towards the back of the room, wings spread wide around him, as always.

He quickly turned back towards the archway when he heard footsteps approaching. And this time he did gasp. Shota was walking towards him, slightly quicker now that he realized he was behind the song.

He couldn’t help but hold a hand to his mouth as he stared at his husband. He looked so beautiful. Hizashi could feel the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, not even bothering to blink them away as Shota finally joined him. He was staring at him like he’d never seen him before, this expression of awe and wonder across his face.

When he reached him, Hizashi held out his hands, which Shota took quickly, pressing his lips against his knuckles softly. They continued to stare at each other as Nemuri began to speak.

“Students, teachers, friends, we are here today to watch these two idiots,” the crowd giggled a bit at her, “marry each other, for the second time. I was beyond honored to be at their first wedding, and I am so incredibly happy to be here today.”

“I don’t want to take too long, since I know they’d rather I skip all the jokes and just get on with it ,” she purred, “So I’ll keep it short and sweet. I’ve never met a couple as in love as Hizashi and Shota. I have never met two people who are so perfect for each other. I only wish Shirakumo could see us today, see where we all ended up. But I know he is with us in spirit, and I know he would want me to say that he, along with the rest of us, are so proud of how the two of you ended up,” she said, pausing to collect herself a bit.

“Screw it, let’s just do the vows, shall we?” she said, unable to keep the tears out of her voice. 

Aizawa looked at him, clearly signaling for him to go first. Hizashi nodded, and he pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket. He’d been working on these for weeks, trying to find the right words.

He stared at the piece of paper in his hand before balling it up in his fist, shoving it roughly into his pocket.

“Shota,” he started, his voice already rough with tears. “When we got married ten years ago, I didn’t think it would be possible to be more in love with you than I was then. I was wrong. I have watched you go through hell and come out a stronger, more beautiful person each time. I couldn’t be more proud to be standing here with you today. I love you more than I can explain, Shota. You are my everything,” he said, a little breathless. He ignored the tears flow freely down his face, instead choosing to rest his forehead against Shota’s for a moment.

“Hizashi,” Aizawa started, “When we met in high school, you were the most annoying person I had ever met,” he said bluntly, pausing to let all the students and teachers giggle loudly at his choice of words.

“But more than anything, I wanted so badly to be your friend. I was never popular, and I never will be, but you never cared. You saw me, a boy with what everyone called a villainous quirk, someone who had only ever been equated to roughness and darkness, and you saw the light in me, maybe before I ever did. I know, without a doubt, I would not be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I still don’t know how I managed to trick you into falling in love with me, but I am so glad you did. You never abandoned me, like everyone said you would. I love you, and I always will. I love how you talk about me constantly on your radio show, how much you brag about me to your friends as ‘Present Mic’s hot-ass husband.’ You are my world, and I am so glad I get to marry you again,” he finished, wiping at the tears falling down his cheeks. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, boys,” Nemuri spoke up from her place at the podium. “And by the power invested in me by a random website I found on the internet, I now pronounce you husband and husband, Mr. and Mr. Aizawa-Yamada, again,” she finished. The audience erupted into cheers as Hizashi pulled Shota in close, kissing him deeply.

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other as his students whistled and jeered. Finally, they pulled away, and Aizawa buried his face in Hizashi’s neck, blushing furiously.

“To the dancefloor!” Nemuri yelled.

Hizashi and Shota were whisked away by Nemuri as the crowd made their way towards the opposite ends of the gym. 

“I am so proud of you both,” she said, hugging them tight against her chest. Shota let himself be hugged for once, still caught up in the emotion of it all.

“Take a few minutes to calm down and be gross newlyweds, then you can head out to the dance floor for your first, or I guess second dance,” she said, already leaving them alone in a secluded section of the gym.

They stood leaning against the wall, Aizawa still wrapped tightly around Hizashi. Hizashi brushed the hair out of his face, kissing him softly.

“I love you,” he whispered, resting his chin against Aizawa’s head. He heard the mumbled, I love you too , that Aizawa whispered against his chest.

“You ready?” Aizawa finally asked, pulling away slightly so he could look at his husband.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

As soon as they were on the dance floor, surrounded by their students and friends, Aizawa held up a hand, running towards Jirou’s makeshift DJ booth. Hizashi stood there, a little confused as he whispered into his students' ear. She nodded, grinning wide as she queued up a song.

Aizawa joined him quickly again, and took Hizashi’s hand, settling it against his own hip, leaning his head against his husband’s shoulder, swaying as a familiar song began to play.

Hizashi gasped again, as Aizawa’s voice filled the stadium. It was their song, the one he’d written for Hizashi just a few months ago. He could see the little listeners gasping and pointing from their seats as they realized it was their homeroom teacher's voice being broadcasted across the gym. 

They swayed slowly to the song, Hizashi hiccuping a bit as he cried. He had told Jirou to just pick a random slow song for them to dance to, and he was once again surprised, this time by his husband, at the perfect choice.

He never would have thought Aizawa would be comfortable with such personal thoughts being broadcasted like this, but he didn’t seem to mind as he moved them around the dance floor.

As the last few moments of the song faded out, the crowd erupted into cheers, and Jirou quickly started her playlist as the dancefloor filled with students and teachers, all happily dancing along.

Hizashi finally pulled away from Aizawa. He placed his hands on either side of his face and kissed him deeply.

“Thank you, I couldn’t have asked for a better second wedding,” he joked, laughing a bit as he pulled away, wiping at the last few tears that lingered on his face.

“Somehow, we did even better the second time,” Aizawa said, his usual soft smile on his lips.

Soon, they were whisked into conversation after conversation. They received congratulations from almost every student, with Midoriya being the most flustered, crying himself, and congratulating them over and over as he bowed deeply. Finally, he was pulled away by Todoroki, who simply smiled at them before offering Midoriya a tissue.

“Aizawa-Yamada Shota,” a familiar voice said. They turned to see Hawks, crimson wings tucked neatly behind him so he didn’t accidentally knock anyone over with them. He was staring at them both, shock evident on his face. He gaped at them, mainly at Hizashi, for a solid minute before he seemed to realize he was staring.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” he shook his head, “when Aizawa came to me and asked me to teach him how to play guitar, he waxed on and on about his husband, and somehow I failed to realize that he meant my favorite hero Present Mic,” he all but hissed. Hizashi laughed, loud and incredulous. He quit laughing when he realized that Hawks wasn't joking.

“I’m your favorite? Seriously?” he asked, a bit taken aback. Hawks nodded, holding out a hand to shake. He took it, still shocked that the number two hero was standing in front of him, fanboying over him. 

“I'm your number one fan, dude. I have every single one of your albums, I listen to every single radio show,” he said, turning back towards Aizawa. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! I looked like an idiot when I saw you at Best Jeanist’s agency! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, Present Mic,” he said, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Well, it’s an honor to meet you, then, little listener!” Hizashi said, putting on his Present Mic voice and doing his signature pose. Hawks looked like he might faint. He talked to them for a few more minutes, chattering wildly about his favorite episode of the radio show and all the different kinds of merch he had. Finally, he left, saying something about going to text his boyfriend because he needed a minute to breathe. Hizashi giggled as he left, still a bit shocked at the number two hero’s blatant fanboying over him. Aizawa was chuckling beside him.

"I told you he liked you. And for the record, I'm your biggest fan, not him," he grumbled. Hizashi laughed again, pulling him into another kiss.

“Maybe I should send him some merch or something," he laughed. "I still can’t believe we just got married. Again,” Hizashi said, grinning excitedly. Aizawa smirked at him.

“Well, you know what they say.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Hizashi asked, grinning down at his husband, officially, this time.

“Second times a charm?”