Work Text:
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the room is completely quiet, save for hanta sero’s soft breathing. it’s illuminated only by lamplight and moonlight shining in from the balcony doors, curtains drawn back. one door is cracked slightly, letting the cool night air circulate through the room.
it’s perfectly cozy, and hanta has his knees drawn to his chest, his nose dipped beneath his blanket.
ask him when he fell asleep and he wouldn’t be able to answer.
actually, scratch that.
ask him if he was asleep at all and he’d deny it all the way to his grave.
just resting my eyes, he would say.
a pencil falls, and a chair scratches on the floor as the person in the seat leans back to retrieve it.
this, of all things, startles hanta from his comfortable slumber (or eye resting, whatever he decides to call it).
as his dark eyes crack open, adjusting to the dim light, coming back to his senses, he sees his boyfriend in the chair at his desk, left hand raking through dark red locks, tapping a pencil eraser against his lip. his leg is lifted, socked foot curling over the edge of the seat, cheek pressed against his knee. hanta watches shouto todoroki blink rapidly, trying to chase away exhaustion, trying to formulate answers in his head, stressing for next to nothing.
hanta leans up, digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. trying not to yawn, he asks, “hey, what time is it?” then, when shouto turns very slowly toward him, he asks, “why are you still up?”
shouto sets his pencil down, cheek still pressed to his knee, lips pursed in a pout. the lamplight gives his white hair a golden glow almost. hanta’s sleepy self suddenly imagines shouto blond , like bakugo, but the image shatters when shouto finally replies.
“still studying.”
hanta narrows his eyes, obviously not satisfied with that answer alone. “how long?”
“hm?” shouto is staring at his notebook again, at his opened textbook. hanta wonders if he’s still on the page they were on when hanta passed out.
“how long have i been out?”
shouto finds his phone under the textbook cover, taps the screen. he hesitates, hanta can see it, just barely. “four hours.”
frowning, hanta tries doing the math, as much as his brain doesn’t want him to. that must mean it’s closer to—
“shou, it’s, like, two in the morning.”
shouto is unphased, even as his shoulders sag, as his notebook mocks him. “i’m aware.”
hanta considers throwing a pillow at his head. instead, he throws his blanket to the side, making room next to himself. “shou, come to bed.”
shouto looks at him fully, then. his eyelids droop, hair messed up from running his fingers through it too many times, pulling and twisting. “if the light’s bothering you, i can—“
“no, don’t worry about the light,” hanta interrupts, patting the spot next to him. the dorm beds are full size, which is just big enough to hold two grown boys. every single night, hanta sends his thanks to whoever fashioned these dorms, because twin size beds suck when you’re seventeen and six foot two inches tall.
and also when you wanna spend the night with your almost equally tall boyfriend, but that’s beside the point.
“come on,” hanta keeps pushing even when shouto doesn’t budge. “come to bed. you need sleep .”
shouto is still staring at him, or rather, through him, looking ready to clock out right here in this spot. their test isn’t for another two days, but damn is he nervous. he has to do well, for himself, for his sanity, but also to pass and progress forward. finals are kicking his ass and god, shouto just wants to do well . that’s all he asks.
also, he told bakugo he'd score higher than him, so his pride and dignity is on the line, as well. but hanta doesn’t need to know that right now.
“i’m not tired, hanta,” shouto says, lying straight through his teeth. he ignores the pull in his bones, the pull he always feels in hanta’s presence. hanta is like a supermassive star, with the strongest gravitational force out of everyone he knows.
he’s undeniable. shouto wonders if hanta even realizes it.
back on earth, hanta disproves of this answer as well, and shouto represses a sigh. “i won't be long, i promise. just need a bit more—“
then, the room is much louder than necessary.
“shouto, my darling!” hanta reaches out a spidery hand to him, post-midnight-delirium soaking in. “i’ll be so lonely without you! come to bed, come to bed so we can cuddle and i can feel whole again!”
shouto sucks his lips in, surprised and desperately trying not to burst out in unholy laughter.
hanta is trying his hardest not to laugh, face pulled in mock distress, hands reaching out, lips pulled into a quivering frown. shouto sees it, now; the mess of his hair, the exhaustion in his eyes, the hazy sleepiness pulling at his boyfriend’s limbs. the sight of him in his pajamas, t-shirt twisted, blanket thrown aside, illuminated in that gentle lamplight glow, god, does it pull.
shouto should just give in. close his notebook and give in. he knows hanta won’t give up.
“are you… trying to seduce me into a healthier sleeping pattern?” shouto asks, lip quirking as hanta snorts. they both fall into barely contained, enervation-induced giggling. “is that what you’re trying to do?”
then hanta drops his headback down onto his pillow none too gracefully, smiling lazily, tapping the spot next to him again. it’s enough.
finally, shouto shuts his notebook.
“is it working?” hanta asks, already knowing the answer.
it’s enough . shouto flicks off the lamp and stumbles blindly to the bed. when he crawls into his hanta-assigned spot, his eyes are finally adjusted. hanta looks even more unearthly with the moon lighting up all the high planes of his face.
the moon must favor him , shouto thinks. that’s okay. shouto supposes he can share his boyfriend with the moon.
his moon-favored lover boy leans forward to plant the gentlest of kisses to shouto’s forehead after brushing his hair out of his face. he’s too good, too soft, too pure. shouto’s heart aches with all the adoration, all the love he feels for hanta. it’s cheesy and it’s ridiculous but it’s good.
shouto feels so young in this moment, so whole. cared for and loved.
“sleep, shou,” hanta whispers, his pointer finger dancing over shouto’s collarbone as their eyes start to drift shut. “you’re a natural, and you’ll do wonderful on the tests. i know you will, but you’ve got to start sleeping better.”
instead of answering, shouto presses a warm palm to hanta’s heart. their heartbeats align in no time at all, breathing easy as the moon and all her stars watch over them from above.
hanta feels so ancient, like he’s done this before a thousand times, like he’ll do it a thousand more times, like he’ll never tire of shouto todoroki.
he won’t.
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