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Shouta’s eyes drag open at the ass crack of dawn and god what he wouldn’t do to get another five days of sleep. His furry alarm clock though, the Little Bastard that he is, won’t let him sleep because he’s an asshole who likes to meow right in the middle of a very nice dream about sleeping. Dragging out of bed, Shouta feeds his cute little shit and checks his phone.
Two text messages from Nemuri. A Twitter notification about a few new followers. A new dm from a spam account. And three missed calls and voicemails from Hizashi…
Hizashi… Now that Shouta thinks about it, he hadn't heard him come in last night. The man likes his cuddles after a long day, wrapping himself around a half asleep Shouta. (He protests regularly but can’t help the warmth that pools in his stomach when they do.)
He opens the first voice message and presses the phone to his ear.
...shit.
Dashing to the door, Shouta yanks it open, and there he is, curled up in a ball, softly snoring. Hizashi is still in his hero suit, his speakers that are usually around his neck being used as pillows. He’s okay, though, much to Shouta’s concerns. Looking a little banged up, but… okay.
Shouta slightly shakes the other, almost hating himself for it. From the looks of it, Hizashi had once again forgotten or lost his key on duty and Shouta was too heavy of a sleeper to hear his knocks and calls. Sure, he could use his quirk, but that ran the risk of waking the entire neighborhood in the process. Hizashi might have been a loud person, but he learned not to mess with his sleeping neighbors.
Though, it was weird. Shouta could’ve sworn Hizashi didn’t have duty until so late today. He sweeps the thought to the side.
“Hizashi,” Shouta says through another sigh. His husband is out cold on the ground because of him. Geez he is a terrible spouse. “Wake up, Hizashi. We both have hero work today so come to bed.”
Hero work.
Maybe he should call in for today. Just the two of them in their cozy apartment sounds so appealing. Shouta could make them pancakes while Hizashi talked his ear off about how yesterday was and what kind of villains he faced. Then they could sip their coffee while watching some kind of shit house flippers show that they both get way too invested in for too many hours. Shouta could fall asleep on the couch as Hizashi used his special reading voice, the one only Shouta got to hear, to read their favorite book. Or maybe Hizashi would be the first to sleep, since he had to sleep on the cold ground, and Shouta could run his hands through his spiked hair and make it fall down and frame his face just right so that he looked like the most powerful and beautiful person in the world.
But no. He couldn’t do or have any of that because heros don’t get vacation days just because they feel like it.
Finally, after some coaxing and gentle shakes, Hizashi opens his eyes. A wave of relief rolls through Shouta.
At least he looks okay.
“Sho?” He blinks and Shouta smiles, soft and sad because he has a sinking feeling.
“Morning.”
Hizashi sits up, back popping in a million different places. He rubs his neck as he stands up and yawns. “Morning, how are you?”
“Good. How about you come inside and get a few more hours of sleep. It looks like you could use it.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
As they walk inside, it feels … off. Shouta thinks that if he activated his quirk just right he could see the thickness of the air and maybe drown it out. Alas, it’s too early for him to even attempt to use it normally.
“Are you okay, ‘zashi?”
“Mmf. Yeah. Tired.” Hizashi flops on their bed, words muffled by the pillow. Grabby hands emerge from the blankets and Shouta finds the edges of his lips tugging into a smile.
He snuggles next to his husband and let’s him wrap around him.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
***
A couple of weird dreams later, Shouta wakes up cold in an empty bed. A note, two pills, and a glass of water are the newest additions to his bedside table. The condensation from the water glass has rolled down the cup and left water marks on the sticky note, and somewhat blurs the message already written in scraggly handwriting.
“Off to work! Don’t forget to take pills. You have duty at 7 tonight. See you later, promise! I love you <3 “
Shouta sighs and reluctantly swallows the pills down with help from the water. Why does Hizashi have to remember all the things he doesn’t? Sure it’s helpful, but damn annoying sometimes.
Sure the pills help with his depression and his quirk related insomnia. But they’re so annoying, and they taste bad, and they’re too expensive. Yet, Hizashi insists on getting them every time instead of his own eye and voice medicine.
Shouta really doesn’t deserve him.
He rolls his eyes and sits up, ignoring the new train of thought. That’s enough of that for today. He’ll take another nap before his hero work tonight.
Dread hangs in the air.
***
Shouta gets home from duty at 2 in the morning. Unlocking the door as quietly as he can, Shouta makes sure Little Bastard is fed then creeps to his and Hizashi’s room, expecting to see his husband fast asleep.
That, however, is not what he sees.
The blankets are disheveled and there are clothes strewn about the room. Shouta trips over two pairs of pants and three shirts alone trying to get dressed. When Shouta finally snuggles into bed, he decides Hizashi is in the bathroom and will be back in a couple of minutes. He stays awake, since he himself wouldn’t mind a cuddle or two from his husband before they fell asleep.
Hizashi, however, does not come to bed in another couple of minutes. In fact, he doesn’t for another 10, 15, or even 20 minutes. Shouta’s been known for his knack for sleeping in strange situations, but this is stressing him so much he can barely shut his eyes.
Finally, after 30 minutes of lying in a half cold bed, Shouta sits up and checks the house for any signs of his missing husband. But there is none. It’s quiet and every room is empty of life, save for the living room where Little Bastard is sleeping.
The front door creaks open and Shouta whirls around to see Hizashi coming though it. Bouncing to an imaginary beat, he sets his keys quietly down before shedding his jacket. Shouta just stares. He hasn’t been spotted yet.
That is until he can’t help himself. Shouta lets out a breathy “what.”
Hizashi freezes and green eyes meet black ones. A sheepish smile, slowly but surely, breaks out on his face and he raises his hand to offer a slight wave. Shouta doesn’t know whether to laugh or be angry or to cry or all of them.
“Hi Shouta…” Hizashi trails off. There’s a quiet and it’s baited, like he wants to say something else but just can’t quite get it out. Shouta is usually patient and let’s Hizashi say all he needs to before interjecting, but his nerves have already been shot down by so many villains today.
“Hizashi, what the fu—“
“I can explain!” Hizashi interrupts. “So there was a huge fire at my last mission and the guy jumped off the roof of a really tall building and so I had to save him but then more people were trying to jump off so I had to stay and make sure that they didn’t and also catch the villain who was at the top of the building too and anywayI’msososososorryShoutapleasedon’tgetmadIpromiseitwasjustheroworkand—“
Shouta raises a hand to stop him and Hisashi’s mouth snaps shut. His pointer finger and middle finger are rubbing at his temple, attempting to quell a rising headache. “It’s too late for this,” he says, crossing his arms. “I’m too tired. You’re too tired. I’m going to sleep. You coming?”
Hizashi opens his mouth to speak again but Shouta stops him once again with his hand. “No words. Just nod or don’t.”
Eyes are round and wide and tear filled. Maybe Shouta should feel like a dick, but the longer they stand here, the more he’s getting pissed at everything. He just wants to go to sleep. Hizashi’s head finally nods up and down.
Shouta lays down and his husband gets changed. By the time Hizashi is in bed, Shouta’s anger has devolved into simple gurgling in his stomach. He rolls over to face the other. “Hizashi, you scared me. Again.” A hand is placed on his husband’s cheek.“You promise you’re okay? That everything is okay?” Shouta tries to find answers in the dim green of Hizashi’s eyes.
Hizashi’s lips quirk up. “Yeah. Promise.” He mimics Shouta and rolls over, holding out his arm. Shouta shimmies in and wraps his arms back around his husband. Lips find the top of Shouta’s head. “Especially now that I’m with you.”
It’s quiet for a while as they sit in each other’s arms. The gurgling that was in Shouta’s stomach has stopped now that he’s with his husband and they’re both safe. He’s grateful.
Humming breaks out in the silence between them, quiet and beautiful. Shouta shuts his eyes and lets himself revel in the sounds that Hizashi makes. It had been a long day anyway, they could talk about today another time.
Eyes are heavy and lidded, and finally, at 3 am, Shouta falls asleep to his husband humming his favorite song.
***
A few days later, Shouta locks the apartment door and yawns. He can’t imagine how Hizashi is feeling since he had a morning shift. Even though Shouta got a full night's sleep and a nap, he is still exhausted. Then again, he is always exhausted. Not too exhausted to eat some noodles though.
He’s definitely not salty that Hizashi isn’t home yet or anything. He’s definitely not salty because they were going to spend the day together for the first time in a month but then Hizashi had work today. And he’s definitely not salty that Hizashi had texted him he would be home in ten minutes only to not be home another twenty minutes later.
...yeah. He is actually 100% salty and a little angry. But who wouldn’t be after their husband had to work on their date days for the 4th time in a row. Yes, Shouta is going to the noodle shop without Hizashi because he was petty, but it is justified in his mind. Who would blame him?
His walk to the shop is normally boring. Not many villains around, at least not usually. No disturbances or prying people to recognize him, not that he did much anyway.
But of course, today, of all days, is not the usual.
As Shouta rounds the corner, his ears perk. The ground rumbles, and, if he hadn’t known better, Shouta would think it was just his imagination. That is to say, a low growl emerges from the back alley across the street and shakes the entire street. But something else catches Shouta’s attention.
A person yelling, also shaking the earth. And it sounds just like…
Shouta doesn’t even hesitate before he takes off for the alley. He loses his footing, crashing into the wall before pushing off and seeing a puff of dust fly up into the air obscuring his vision.
“Trapped like a fly, aren’t you, Present Mic?” A gruff laugh sounds as the dust begins to settle.
Shouta freezes. His eyes dart around trying to find the right way to look before suddenly he spots Hizashi. Or rather Shouta first spots the bright bouquet of flowers gripped tightly in his hand. Hizashi is backed up against the wall, determined, but obviously shaken up from the attack. A few feet away, a man not much bigger than either of them stands. Objects are floating above the two, specifically aimed and positioned to take fire at Hizashi.
Shouta knows he has to move, he’s been a pro hero for quite a few years now. But he just can’t tear himself away. His eyes are locked on to Hizashi.
A trash can flies towards Hizashi and causes Shouta to activate his erasure. Only it’s too late— Shouta isn’t looking at the villain, his gaze is still fixed on Hizashi and damn it— damn it no no no, he’s yelling but nothing is happening.
Shouta blinks, deactivating his quirk, and is running as fast as he can to try and shield his husband. It’s no use though, trash cans and brooms and motorcycles and so many more things are flying and Shouta has been hit. He’s sprawled out across the ground, not sure where, but he hears the distinct sound of another body hitting the pavement.
Shouta tries to get up, to help, to do anything, but his stupid legs won’t move and his stupid eyes won’t focus. Shit, Hizashi and Shouta are going to die from this villain that’s not even technically a villain, just because Shouta couldn’t use his stupid quirk right.
Shouta is crawling on his hands and knees, trying not to get hit and still find Hizashi. A flash of blue and red streaks across his vision. Before he can comprehend what’s going on, All Might has already apprehended the bastard.
Without worry of things flying at him, Shouta pulls himself up and frantically begins his search for Hizashi. It’s not difficult to find him, being that there’s only one pile of things he can be in, but nonetheless Shouta rushes over, clambering to toss off a refrigerator, a motorcycle, and a trash can off of his husband.
Hizashi’s breathing, thank god he is, but he’s unconscious, blood oozing down his face.
“Shit…” All Might's voice comes beside him. Suddenly him and Hizashi both in All Might’s arms, being picked up and Shouta doesn’t know how but he ends up in a hospital bed with so many noises and lights and everything is fading to black.
Hizashi...
***
Shouta’s legs have never before moved faster than there in that hospital. Convincing the nurse to give him Hizashi’s room number after being in bed for 3 hours had tested his patience enough. He wasn’t wasting another moment without knowing for sure that he was okay. That Present Mic, Hizashi, his husband, was okay.
That was until a figure towered over Shouta, holding him back with the force of a thousand horses.
“Let me go, All Might.” Shouta seethed. He had to know. He needed to see him. Hizashi wasn’t dead, he was fine and he was through that door right there, talking way too loud to the nurses about anything and everything.
The wing was silent.
“No. You must return to your own room and resume your own treatment.”
“I need to see Hizashi first.” His fists were balled up in his hospital gown, the cloth creaking at how tight it was being gripped. Maybe if he used his quirk right this time, he could make a break before the other had a chance to regain it. “All Might, let me see my husband.”
The hand on his shoulder tightened. “Eraser. Think logically. Present Mic needs rest. And it’s not relaxing to be bothered by... people right now.”
Bothered by you.
The words weren’t said, but they were there, coated in thick molasses that made Shouta’s stomach gurgle.
“Please,” he choked. Weak and helpless and, god, so so useless. He couldn’t let it end like this. He had tried to be strong.
He wasn’t.
“Please All Might. It’s my fault. It’s my fault we got hurt and so thank you for helping but— Just let me check on him.” Shouta swallows, thick and slow. “It’s my fault,” he repeats, voice cracking in the middle.
All Might sighs, but finally the hand holding Shouta back loses all its grip. “I advise against it. But you won’t take no for an answer, so—.”
Shouta barely hears the end of what All Might says because he’s already across the wing and at the door, ripping it open. He almost cries out, but whether from relief or sadness he doesn’t know.
Hizashi looks so soft and approachable like a grandmother, knitting her grandkids a pair of mittens for the winter. His hands are folded in his lap as he stares out the window, a far off look on his face. He doesn’t even flinch when Shouta practically breaks down the door. His hair is tied up and he has bruises all over his arms and neck and a patch on his cheek and another two on his knee and elbow. Soft and quiet is the opposite of Hizashi and especially in an environment like a hospital with plenty of people to talk to.
It feels too weird. Too uncomfortable.
Hizashi slowly turns to Shouta and finally smiles, sweet and sappy, and though a lot of what Shouta has been taking in is so weird and different, the smile seems familiar and he revels in it.
“Hi, Sho.”
Shouta Aizawa breaks into tears and makes a break for his husband’s side, climbing into his bed with him. He wraps himself around the other because he's so glad he’s alive, so glad he’s not dead on the side of the sidewalk with his head bashed in. And yeah it does feel a little backwards, but that's okay because Shouta thinks it’s been a pretty backwards day.
A nose pressed into Hizashi’s neck has Shouta smelling the expensive cologne he wears only on special occasions. He could smell that everyday all day because it meant that, yes Hizashi was alive and well and healthy and maybe wasn’t as mad at Shouta as much as he should’ve been.
“God, Hizashi.” Shouta feels the tears melting down his face, but he can’t seem to make himself stop. All he wanted to do was be with Hizashi and he would be okay. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”
Hizashi’s fingers have made themselves comfy in Shouta’s hair, massaging his scalp. Lips are on his forehead and before they can retreat, Shouta peeks his head up to catch them with his own. The kiss is short and sweet, but answers all of the questions in Shouta’s throat.
He can’t help but keep kissing him. He tries so hard to convey the worry and apology in it, but instead just gets lost in Hizashi and all he is. His loud words that sometimes melt into soft hums when they’re together, his care for the world and everyone in it, his long blond hair that’s tied back, his smell, his hands, his lips, his everything. Shouta really has no idea what he would do without him.
After they finally break, Shouta nestles back into his husband’s arms. And though it feels a little lopsided, it’s home and Shouta couldn’t be more relieved.
***
The doctor asks them both to stay another day to run some tests. There’s nothing major wrong with either Shouta or Hizashi, thank god, but it’s enough to make Shouta tell the agencies that they would be out of hero work for the next couple of days.
When they both get home the next night, they both collapse on the bed and don’t wake up until noon the next day. Shouta wakes up first, Hizashi still out like a light.
He’s never the first one up, so Shouta takes the opportunity to just watch Hizashi and the way his breathing never falters. He lets himself watch and trace every outline of the other's face with his eyes.
And it hits him like a brick train. How long has it been since they’ve woken up together in the same bed? Weeks? A month? Shouta doesn’t know. And it hurts his heart to think that Hizashi is trying to avoid him. He doesn’t know when it started— whether it was when he found Hizashi sleeping outside of their apartment or when Shouta had caught him coming home late or if it was even earlier than that— but the revelation gets caught in his through and makes it hard to breathe.
Fuck, Shouta’s such a horrible husband.
He swallows thick and rolls on his back, an arm over his eyes. His eyes sting. He can’t be thinking about this right now or he’s going to hate himself.
Just like he does.
Shouta knows it’s not true, there’s plenty of evidence against such pretenses, but there’s enough evidence to support them as well. They cuddle most nights, Hizashi gives him kisses, they still sometimes talk to each other, and the flowers in Hizashi’s hand the night of the attack were no doubt for Shouta. Plus they had no trouble being together at the hospital the past couple days. But still, the thought that maybe Hizashi is avoiding him keeps in his mind.
That first night that felt off, the one that Shouta found his husband sleeping outside, flashes in his mind. It was weird, yeah, but thinking back he doesn’t remember there being any sour feelings. He might have said something about Hizashi fucking off after making a joke about Shouta’s sleeping habits but it was one comment, one that he makes regularly. There was no malice in his words that he can remember. But, why else would he stop at only 3 calls?
When he came in that late night at 2:30am, though, Shouta definitely was a little cross with Hizashi. Maybe not him in particular of course, because, to Shouta’s knowledge, Hizashi was just doing his job. Patrols frequently went longer than expected if the right thing happened, but not usually 5 hours longer. Especially not with what was claimed to have happened.
Then was the day of the attack. He thought that they had both had that day off together. It’s unusual for the agency to have not given Hizashi days he asked off for, especially when it was months in advance. The only reason the person laying next to Shouta right now is alive is because Shouta finally got impatient and ran into the fight.
A rustle of sheets causes Shouta to peek out from under his arm. Hizashi reaches out grabby hands. With his eyes still scrunched and his mouth turned into a frown, Hizashi is still asleep. Shouta shakes his head fondly and scoots closer, turning on his side so his husband can bury his face in his chest. An arm wraps around him and Shouta has no choice but to return the touch. Their legs intertwine with each other, closer than ever before.
After they settle, Hizashi begins to softly snore and the sound almost makes Shouta want to cry. It’s been so long since he’s heard that noise that it’s as if angels split the sky and are singing down to him. He breathes in the special shampoo Hizashi uses as hair tickles his nose. Okay, maybe now he was crying.
There are too many emotions to sort through. Too many things to think about, with Hizashi maybe possibly hating him but also maybe it was just his agency being a shitty place to work. He didn’t know where to start.
Shouta is warm, though. He is safe. So, he falls asleep. Or is going to do so until he peeks his eyes open and sees the time. One in the afternoon? Hizashi would kill him if he knew Shouta had let them sleep until then.
Shouta groans.
***
Hizashi is almost harder to get up than Shouta is. He bats Shouta’s arms away when they try to wake him and he whines and groans about “5 more minutes.”
“It is one o’clock.” Shouta hovers over Hizashi’s side of the bed. “In the afternoon.”
His husband’s eyes shoot open as he sits up. “It’s WHAT?” He shouts.
“One pm.” Shouta rolls his eyes.
“Holy— Sho, why would you let me sleep in this late?”
“You deserved it,” Shouta says plainly, shrugging his shoulders. “But you’d kill me if I let you sleep any longer. Lunch will be ready in 20 minutes.”
“Yo, I think you mean breakfast,” Hizashi raises an eyebrow. He’s moved to standing up and rummaging around his drawer to find clothes. “Also… you? Cooking? Sho, are you sure about that?”
Shouta rolls his eyes at the jab at his cooking skills. “Oh haha, yes I am sure, ‘zashi. And no, I mean lunch. It’s lunch time, so why would I call it breakfast?”
“Well, you see, it is break fast—” Hizashi separates the words and moves his hands around to separate the air as well— “and since we are breaking our fast over the night, it just makes sense! Plus we just woke up and breakfast is always the first, most important meal of the day!”
Shouta wants to roll his eyes again and argue some more because he’s still so fucking tired from the past week. But… it’s been so long since he’s seen the light in Hizashi’s eyes flare like this and it’s been so long since Shouta has even just heard Hizashi’s voice for more than a few mere seconds, so he lets him win.
“Fine,” He feigns annoyance. “Fine. Breakfast will be out in 20 minutes.”
“Good,” Hizashi is smiling under his mustache and Shouta feels the butterflies that still show up every now and again beat their wings.
“Jackass,” he throws over his shoulder as he turns to walk out, smirking to himself.
“What did you just call me?” He hears Hizashi gasp.
As Shouta ignores his comment and walks out towards the kitchen, Hizashi shouts. “Oh ho ho, no way, you are not getting away that easily!”
Before he knows it, Shouta hears fast footsteps approaching and he doesn’t even have time to turn around before fingers find his sides and he’s giggling. Damn, he should have never told Hizashi he was ticklish because now he is absolutely getting assaulted in the worst and best possible way.
“St-hahaaa-p, oh-oh my god Hisha-ha-shi qui-hit it!” He whines between his giggles. The fingers travel up and down his sides, and Shouta doubles over to try and stop them. When that doesn’t work, he spins around and gives some of Hizashi his own medicine, digging his own fingers into his husband‘s tummy.
“Oh no you don’t!” Hizashi quickly picks him up bridal style and starts twirling around the room. Shouta’s no longer laughing like an idiot but instead he’s smiling like an idiot, so big that it hurts his face. Hizashi looks so happy and so beautiful right now, Shouta can’t help it. He wraps his arms around his husband’s neck and forgets all of his thoughts from this morning because he feels like he’s 17 and in love again. This is Hizashi, his Hizashi, and he’s so glad to have him back like this.
His husband looks down, their eyes meet, and then suddenly, finally, they both lean in and their lips touch. They kiss and let themselves taste each other. Lips fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Shouta is no longer in a bridal carry but is instead leaning against a wall, legs wrapping around Hizashi’s waist.
They kiss and kiss, getting as close together as they can. When they finally break to breathe, even though Shouta’s pretty sure he could go without oxygen just this once, Hizashi touches his forehead to Shouta’s. They breathe the same air for a while and it kind of smells awful but Shouta couldn’t care less because he’s missed this. All of it. Being with Hizashi and fighting and messing around with him. But now that it’s back he never wants to lose it again.
“I’ve missed you,” Hizashi reads Shouta’s mind. His lips are on Shouta’s again, a hand on his cheek as well. A pepper of kisses end up on his face and eventually make a path to his ear. “I love you so much, Shouta,” Hizashi hums.
Shouta's eyes have fluttered closed and his hands find the back of Hizashi’s head. “I love you too, Hizashi.”
They stay there for a few moments, just breathing and being together, until Shouta’s back begins to feel sore from being pressed up against the wall for so long. As he’s lowered down, Shouta presses his and Hizashi’s lips together one more time before breaking apart completely.
“Well that was fun,” Shouta winks when his stomach growls. “But I think we should get some breakfast.”
Hizashi nods, hair a bit messy from Shouta’s hands running through it. It’s cute, Shouta thinks, so he blows another kiss back to his husband before sauntering off to the kitchen.
***
The subject was going to come back up sooner or later. Sure, the days that he and Hizashi had spent together at home were some of the best ones he’s had in a while, but when they resumed hero work later that week, Hizashi began to disappear again.
The final straw is when Hizashi completely blows Shouta off the third time in a row for their coordinated days off with date nights.
Shouta is waiting at the door as the clock hits 1:30am. Hizashi had left their apartment at 6 in the fucking morning and he stil wasn’t back from his claimed 8 hour patrol. A fire seethes beneath Shouta’s skin when it’s almost 1:40am and Hizashi isn’t back yet.
What if he’s hurt though?
The thought crosses and well… Shouta hadn’t thought that maybe, just maybe, Hizashi hadn’t meant to miss anything and once again has been attacked and rendered helpless. God, what if he was cold and alone and bleeding out and here Shouta was being an asshole husband and getting mad at—
The front door creaks open and Shouta's train of thought stops in its place.
He knows Hizashi can sense his presence and sees his shoulders rise with a sigh.
“Hi, Sho.”
Shouta’s rage has built up too high, caught in his lungs and flushed on his face. He doesn’t trust himself to return the greeting.
“Listen,” Hizashi starts, turning to face Shouta. His eyes are bloodshot and he just looks so tired that it sucks out a little of the anger in him. “I wasn’t out with anyone else if that’s what you're thinking.”
“You know what, no that wasn’t what I was thinking.” Shouta retaliates, the bubbling building back up again. “But I’ll be fucked if it might be what I’m thinking now, Hizashi Yamada. Are you seeing someone else?” The full name is acid on his tongue. Hizashi doesn’t even use Yamada anymore, but it’s the first thing that came up in Shouta’s mind and fuck if he isn’t going to stick with it.
Hizashi flinches. “What no I just said—“
Shouta knows. Part of him, somewhere in the back of his mind, knows, just knows, that it’s not true and Hizashi would never, could never, but he doesn’t catch himself before it tumbles out of his mouth and he’s heading towards the door.
“You know what, forget it.” Shouta grabs his phone, wallet, keys, and jacket and elbows past Hizashi on his way out. “I’m tired of this. I’m going out for tonight, not that you would notice cause you’re never fucking home. See you.”
Hizashi’s hand catches the end of his sleeve before he’s out the door. Bright green eyes are searching his face, pleading. “Shouta, please don’t go. I’m sorry.” It’s sad and broken and it takes everything within Shouta to tear his arm away.
Shouta slams the door, eyes stinging because fuck he wasn’t going to cry but now he is. Tear tracks are cold on his face as he stumbles down the sidewalk. Shit, how could he have been so stupid. He hasn’t even considered the possibility that Hizashi was cheating, but now that it’s planted in his head, it’s vines are spreading and constricting his heart and lungs.
He tastes acid on his tongue and bile in his throat. Puking was always Shouta’s least favorite thing to do, but he’d be damned if he didn’t think it would relieve him even the tiniest bit.
Eventually, he checks into a hotel a few streets over. Shouta might be angry and heart broken and want to never see Hizashi again, but he’s still tired, so going further than that would have had him sleeping for weeks.
As he rides the elevator up to his floor, he thinks about Hizashi. It all makes sense really, Hizashi going to someone else, if Shouta pieces the evidence together just right. The staying out late, the missing important nights, the working on shifts previously unheard of by him.
He hadn’t been just avoiding Shouta. He’d been with someone else that wasn’t Shouta. And really, Shouta doesn’t blame him.
He doesn’t blame Hizashi at all and that’s what hurts the worst. Shouta’s the worst, when he really thinks about it. He sucks up money, time, and so much energy from Hizashi— he knows he does. No wonder he would rather be with anyone else.
Hands are trying to stop the tears that are falling but they just spill over even more. He backs up and slides down the elevator wall.
Fuck fuck fuck fucking shit. His marriage is falling to pieces and he hadn’t even noticed.
Well, he’d noticed something, but it hadn’t been this. Not fucking sleeping with another person, or, god, multiple people. Hizashi wasn’t the type of person to do that, but then again what does Shouta know anymore.
Nothing.
Fuck.
The elevator dings and Shouta wipes his eyes. He gets up. He’s tired.
***
When Shouta gets home the next day, Hizashi is there, anxiously biting his nails as dried tears stain his face. Hizashi perks at the sound of the door and quickly gets up to greet Shouta. A pang momentarily resounds in his chest but it’s buried because how dare he feel bad about being angry when he had every right to be.
“Who is it?” It’s flat and angry and maybe a bit assholish but that's never stopped Shouta before.
Hizashi stops short, only half way across the room from where he was sitting. “What? Sho, you know I would never do that, I love you with my entire being, I could never love anyone else.”
“Then what the fuck is it then?” Shouta hisses, acid spitting from his mouth. There was no other reasonable explanation for it all, save for Hizashi just absolutely hating being together. Arms cross upon his chest. “What the fuck is so important, that you have to be gone every waking moment of every goddamn day, huh?”.
“It’s— Look it’s not what you think at all, Sho. I—“
“Stop.”
“What?” Hizashi looks up, heart broken tears beginning to stream down his face. Shouta has to fight the urge to look away.
“Stop calling me that.”
“C..c-calling you what?” Hizashi stutters. He never stutters, ever, and part of Shouta breaks. But he has to hold his ground because if Hizashi doesn’t have a good explanation for this, then Shouta knows a few good lawyers who can take care of the rest of this ordeal.
“Stop calling me Sho. Stop using my first name.” Shouta’s being an asshole, he knows it, but the rage is taking over.
“O-oh. Um. Sorry Sh- I mean Aizawa. I just—“ Hizashi takes a breath, but it does nothing but get caught and end up as a hiccup. “I have an explanation I just— I—“
“Use your words, Yamada. You have a quirk for it.” His tongue stings from the disuse of the name.
Hizashi flinches. “Right!” He squeaks. “But, uh I uh.”
Shouta is getting really impatient because his husband— though maybe ex-husband— won’t start using his fucking words to talk. Shouta is about to say something else until he hears a cry and the red film over his sight is shattered.
“I’m so tired, S-Aizawa. Just. I- I’ve been taking care of our money and finances because I didn’t want you to have to worry about it and—“ Hizashi sucks a deep breath, a whine breaking out from the back of his throat. “And we didn’t have nearly the amount we needed to survive this month and it looked like we wouldn’t the next few months, and even years if things go this way forever. So I… I picked up a radio show gig for the next while. The only opening they have is the night show so that’s why I’ve been gone so late all the time.” He hiccups again and bows his head, tears falling to the floor. “I’m so sorry.”
The anger has drained from Shouta and he can feel the cold of winter and disappointment settling in his chest. Not disappointment in Hizashi, but disappointment in himself for thinking such horrible things about his husband who was just trying his best to provide, damn it.
“Hizashi, why didn’t you ever tell me?” Shouta wilts.
“Uh well,” his husband sniffs and swallows. “I-I didn't want you to stress out too much because you were already stressed about other things and so I thought I could handle it by myself.”
“You know I’m more than capable of handling stress. Especially when it’s for both of our well-being. You seem more stressed than me lately, and that’s saying something…” Shouta trails off. “How long has this been going on?”
“...two months.” Hizashi mumbles.
“Two months?” Shouta exclaims, running a hand through this ratty hair. For some reason, the thought that he should’ve taken a shower last night pops into his mind. “And what about the extra shifts that you told me about? Were those all lies and excuses?”
“No, I actually did pick up some of Nemuri’s day shifts…”
“Well, that explains missing our days together,” Shouta spits.
“I’m sorry, Aizawa. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“Ugh, stop calling me that. It’s weird. Technically we’re both Aizawa, I was just a bitch earlier.”
Recognizable hope flashes in Hizashi’s eyes. Guilt piles high in Shouta’s stomach.
“...I’m… sorry.” Shouta’s shoulders sag even further than before.
“No I’m sorry too, I should’ve said something I just—“
“No I should be sorry too, Hizashi. We should both be sorry. You for not telling me, but me too for not asking and just… just assuming that…” His words get caught in his throat. Feelings were never Shouta’s thing, despite the emotions flooding through him the last 24 hours. He’s just so filled with guilt and hate towards himself but also love and admiration for his husband. He doesn’t have to finish though, Hizashi knows.
“It’s okay. I kinda made you think it too. I kept missing our important time together too and… ” Hizashi wipes away his tears with the back of his hand, not bothering to finish his thought. “Ha, and to think I was going to help us. Man, Sho. I'm so stupid.”
He shakes his head. Shouta wouldn’t say stupid, but rather— well yeah, no he would say stupid. But he wouldn’t tell Hizashi that. And the sentiment behind it all, it wasn’t stupid, not at all. At least, Shouta doesn’t think so. It’s noble and sweet and kind and so selfless. And it’s enough for him to run the short distance to his husband and kiss him and his stupid selfless mouth. Kiss him until they can’t breathe and then some. Let their lips and mouths become one, so that Shouta can apologize in a way that’s not dumb words coming from his mouth.
“If anyone is stupid, it’s me. I should’ve noticed everything. It hadn’t even crossed my mind,” Shouta finally whispers, forehead tilting against Hizashi’s own once they finally break.
“We’re both a little stupid, huh?” Hizashi sheepishly smiles. They’re so close, Shouta feels the movement on his lips. “It’s okay though, that’s what I love about you.”
Shouta melts then rolls his eyes. “We should stop being so sappy.”
“Don’t lie, you love it.”
Shouta chuckles at that, the tensions that were risen gone. They stand and sway in the quiet, Shouta’s arms around Hizashi’s neck and Hizashi’s arms around Shouta’s waist.
“Shouta…” Hizashi is the first one to break, a concerned look painted onto his face. “We’re okay, right?”
Shouta sighs, light and a little humored. “Yeah, we’re okay. Just don’t go taking anymore jobs without me knowing. Let me help you, ok?”
“Ok… but uh about the job thing. How do you feel about working at UA?”
Shouta groans.