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Sometimes patrols are the worst thing. Don't get Shouta wrong, he loves his job, every bone-aching, heart-breaking minute of it, because it's worth it to see people safe, to watch them reunite with loved ones or gasp in relief at the sight of a protector. It's worth it.
But some nights he wants nothing more than to be curled up in bed with his Sunshine and the cats, and tonight is very, very much one of those nights. It's been a long patrol, lots of incidences one after the other, and his half-hour break was made into just short of twenty minutes by a scream and the rumbling of what sounded like a thunder Quirk of all things, judging by the clear sky but distinct noise.
So Shouta had fought and fought again. One of the villains had some sort of impact-spreading Quirk, and it had shuddered through his belt and bones, a bruise undoubtedly spreading out from his hip where she had caught him, and there’s the ominous sound of some of his things breaking in said belt, but he doesn't have the time to think about it whilst he's in the middle of battle, so Shouta just turns on his heel, steel-capped boot crashing into the woman's side and sending her flying into an alley wall, a few ominous crunches to mirror how his own belongings had broken, and he honestly can't feel remorse for it, even as she cries out.
When that fight is over, the woman apprehended and the various technologies that she'd stolen returned or taken in for evidence or something, Shouta waves off the medical check-over offered by the police, gets the paperwork done as quickly as he can, and heads back up to the rooftops.
He pauses to go through his belt, hoping that the cracks had just been something relatively unimportant, such as maybe his caltrops that he has three pots of spares for at home.
But of course he pulls out his phone, and the screen literally comes apart in his hands. Shouta is already cursing, but the main part of the screen is still there, so he tries the power button anyway.... Nope. Great. He can't contact Hizashi if he's going to be late, nor call for any extra back-up or have anyone else contact him. Well, fuck.
Luckily, even when he ends up in the middle of a rivalling gang fight, he's able to deal with it by himself. He ends up more roughed up than he'd like, too tired to fight his absolute best, but he once more waves off any medical attention, because he's already overrun his patrol by a solid half-hour, judging by the watch of one of the gang members, and he really wants to go home. Hizashi is already going to kill him for being so late.
The trip home is only made better by the knowledge of it being home that he's finally headed for. Admittedly, he's not looking forward to the scolding he's bound to get from his Sunshine (Shouta knows he should've been more careful, stronger and faster and smarter, that he's only been a hero for two years and it shows in his shortcomings, in how he's never enough-) but hopefully the cats will at least still cuddle him. And Hizashi will definitely help him patch up all of his cuts and bruises regardless of how mad he might be.
He only feels worse the longer he travels, fresh air that usually wakes him up instead stinging at his injuries and already-chilled cheeks.
Despite all of this, he gets home without needing to stop, climbing the stairs of their apartment building with a few heaving sighs. Shouta slips the key into the lock, and admittedly it takes two tries because his hand is shaking and he's standing a bit lopsidedly because his side aches something fierce, shoving their front door open as soon as he can. He's already unzipping one of his boots as he shuts the door behind him, kicking it off onto the floor of the genkan-
Abruptly he's being tackled backwards in a mess of flying golden hair, and before Shouta can think or react, his head is crashing into the door, all of his injuries flaring up in a painful symphony, and he's been dragged right to the floor, a familiar weight on top of him.
His Sunshine.
Before he can even try to apologise or soothe his partner, blinking his eyes back open to look at Hizashi, something wet drips onto his face. And for all that he's bleeding, it isn't his own blood, that would be illogical, because all of him is being crushed beneath his boyfriend, so when he finally focuses on the face above him, a lot of things suddenly make sense: Hizashi is crying.
"Sunshine?" Shouta croaks, managing to bring one hand up, for all that there's blood under his nails, to brush a careful touch along a damp cheek, frowning blearily up at his partner. But the blond isn't speaking, only staring down at him with an overshadowed gaze, burgundy edges to the coral eyes. And he's still crying silently. The sight alone has Shouta's heart creaking and cracking around the love-worn edges.
"Hey, uh, please don't cry? I'm sorry I didn't text you, but my phone got smashed and I got home as soon as I can, but it's been one of those patrols and I- fuck, Hizashi, I'm sorry," he tries, wanting to soothe his boyfriend, to apologise, because he really didn't mean for any of this to happen. But Hizashi only shakes his head, tears splattering and more hair tumbling to unspool over Shouta’s chest,
"Don't- Don't-" The blond gives up though, his face screwing up even more, tears still splashing down onto Shouta's face, and the underground hero cups Hizashi's cheek fully, thumb shifting back and forth to wipe away some of the tears that are slowly drowning him from the inside-out because seeing this hurts. His partner should never be upset like this. And for someone so usually full of words and life and love, to see him falling apart above Shouta like this... it's nothing short of awful. Even more so when it's because of him.
"Just- C'mere, Sunshine," Shouta grumbles, ignoring how much his entire body is aching right now, various injuries definitely unimpressed with him currently being squashed uncomfortably on their genkan floor, Hizashi hovering above him on bony elbows, legs intertwined, and working his other arm free to hold the back of his partner's head, tugging him down as gently as he can until the blond is properly laying on him, one ear pressed to Shouta's chest, right above his heart, and the underground hero is more than glad when part of his boyfriend gives way, sagging in what seems like relief. Something is beginning to register with Shouta now. He still isn’t really sure what this is all about though, even with a few inklings.
So he keeps a hand in Hizashi's hair, fingers threading through the fine strands and hoping that he doesn't get too much blood in them, and if maybe he picks up a jagged, strain-chested hum then it's only for how Hizashi latches trembling hands into his jumpsuit, pressing himself firmly into Shouta, face hidden by curtains of gilded hair for all that Shouta can still feel a damp patch forming over his sternum. Oh, his Sunshine. Precious, precious Sunshine.
Sooner or later, Hizashi draws in a long sniff, a noise that should be gross but frankly just ends up being adorable, and unlatches one of his hands from the shorter man's jumpsuit to instead rub over his face, for all that Shouta still can't see him.
"You- 'm sorry for tackling you, Shou. You probably need to get cleaned up and you-" He's pushing himself up, sliding his hands to either side to press up from the ground rather than from Shouta's chest, and he's still very much upset, quivering lips and downcast eyes. Shouta doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what his partner needs.
But the logical thing is to get himself patched up first, so he just nods, and sits up briefly enough to press a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek before Hizashi retreats completely, ignoring how his heart twinges at the salty tang. At least the affection earns him the tiniest twitch of a smile.
Hizashi guides him to the bathroom by the hand, not looking at Shouta and shoulders rounded (it looks so wrong, too much like when he had been grieving their friend, or convinced he wasn't going to pass his exams, or waiting for Shouta to process a late-night confession-) so that the sight of his back is a melancholy one. Neither of them speak - Shouta unsure of what to say, Hizashi apparently still caught in his head - but they go through a familiar routine together all the same. Shouta shucks his jumpsuit and sits himself on the edge of the bath whilst his partner digs out their arguably-excessive first aid kit, and they end up facing each other properly for the first time. Except Hizashi is kneeling on the floor, head ducked, box open beside him and fingers the wrong side of unsteady even as he wipes antiseptic cream over Shouta's scrapes and cuts, anti-inflammatory cream for his already-dark bruises.
They fall still and silent at some point. Hizashi's hands are balanced atop Shouta's bare thighs, fingertips digging in a tad too tightly but the shorter man isn't going to protest it. It's grounding for them both after all.
"I- I really am sorry Zashi. I would've rung you, but-" The hands on his thighs flex just that bit, enough for Shouta to want to wince but he can't. His Sunshine is the one upset here. (Truthfully, they're both upset, caught up in exhaustion and high emotions, knowing nothing but the warmth of each other and the awful potential of being without it-)
"I'm not mad at you, Starshine, I just- I thought you weren't coming home," Hizashi murmurs, too-quiet and forlorn, hunching further into himself, knees pressed to his chest and curling in, forehead to Shouta's knees,
"You always tell me if you're going to be late. And I hadn't been rung by a hospital, so I thought- all I could think was that you were bleeding out in some stupid back alley, alone, and I wasn't there and you weren't here and-"
Oh. He should've known that his Sunshine wouldn't be angry with him. That his partner would never think of him as too slow or stupid, only that Shouta is enough, that he wants Shouta to be safe and alright and together with him.
With hot-heady relief rushing through him, clashing against the chill tides of horror (his Sunshine must have been so scared, so heartbeat-thundering terrified, because of one stupid mistake on Shouta's part-), the shorter man is helpless but to reach out for his boyfriend, the darkness of his blood-crusted nails stark against Hizashi's tan skin, and he tugs him up and close, bringing his Sunshine up and between his knees so that their chests are pressed together, arms too-tight and breaths echoing against each other, discordant at first but settling into a matching rhythm after a long minute.
"I love you, Sunshine. 'M sorry tonight was so fucked up," Shouta eventually murmurs, breathing the words against citrus-scented hair, stubble catching on the golden silk.
"Love you too, Starshine," Hizashi returns, and Shouta absolutely melts at the softest nickname his partner has for him,
"An' I'm sorry too. Didn't mean to freak on you." The shorter man can only huff at that, ducking to hide his face fully against his partner's shoulder, lips muffled against the just of a familiar collarbone as he speaks,
"Don't be, Zashi. Don't be."
Tonight's been bad. It's been exhausting and painful and getting home wasn't the nicest thing despite his Sunshine being here, but they're both safe and breathing and together, for all of the bittersweet tang at the back of Shouta's throat.
"Wanna go cuddle?" Hizashi finally asks, his legs no doubt protesting how he's kneeling on the floor, much like Shouta's arse is unimpressed with being sat on the edge of their bath for the last who knows how long. And even without those aches, the idea of just lying in bed together, blanket-warm and sleep-soft, is always a welcome one.
"What do you think?" Shouta snarks, but his tone is as vulnerable as kitten bellies. And it has Hizashi reaching up, gently shoving his partner's head up and back so that he can instead brush messy hair back, away from dark eyes. Shouta, for his part, stares into red eyes, into sunsets and sakura and the prettiest of blushes across tanned cheeks, and feels his heart soar and settle and sink all at once. Oh, he loves this Sunshine of a man.
"I think I want to fall asleep able to listen to your heartbeat, Shou, and to have Archibald trying to smother us, and Archie on our feet, and Arche in the perfect place to nearly step on her in the morning, you know?"
"I know," the shorter man agrees, and nearly shouts out loud when Hizashi is suddenly surging to his feet, arms looping under thick legs so that he's carrying Shouta against his chest. It's nice, honestly, though a warning wouldn't have been remiss. He can feel his Sunshine's heartbeat against the bottom of his own ribs, and drapes himself over a thin shoulder, revelling in the warmth and solidity of it. Hizashi is a beanpole, and Shouta has the better close combat, but his partner is very much strong all the same, and it never fails to send a pleasant shudder down the shorter man's spine.
Then he's being carefully deposited on the edge of their bed, and he gets to blink at his partner as Hizashi sheds his top, leaving him in the loose athletic shorts that actually belong to Shouta, baggy enough to expose the ridiculously bright red band of his underwear. It makes the shorter man's heart melt all over again, because how dare his boyfriend be so pretty even in the stupidest of clothing and the dead of night.
That softness is probably why he shamelessly reaches up, hands out, palms-up, and once Hizashi steps closer, Shouta slides a touch around bare sides, the warmth and rise-fall-repeat and slightest tremble of tickliness. Then Hizashi is close enough that the shorter man can breathe in the faint scent of his vanilla bodywash and the cats and just home, and he tugs his partner closer again, delighting in the little yelp it results in, even as he shoves his cheek against body-warm skin, the jolt of laughter and surprise enough to have him snorting in the same moment that he closes his eyes, content. The slim waist in his arms is wonderful and familiar, much like the thin fingers threading into his hair.
"You're so soft, Starshine, just like a big cat." It's all folded-fond syllables, melting around the edges rather than crisp, and it has the shorter man pouting,
"'M not."
"You are, Shou-Shou, and it's wonderful." His scowl is distorted by how his cheek is still very firmly pressed against Hizashi's belly, all muscle and a little bit of pudge that just makes it as soft as he himself is.
"You're wonderful," he accuses in return, and whilst his tone is verging on petulant, it does nothing to conceal the words themselves.
"We're wonderful together." And isn't that the simple truth?
Grumbling, Shouta keeps his hold tight and throws himself backwards, twisting into the movement so that he and his partner are sprawling over their bed. It startles Archibald, who mrows loudly at them, but for once he couldn't care less. No, he's got his Sunshine in his arms. Really, that's all there is to it, even whilst Zashi laughs, light and bright and soft as dawning sunlight, and pulls them both further up the bed so that Shouta can settle his head upon the pillows and Hizashi his head upon his partner's chest, just as promised, sighing in contentment.
There's a cat hair irritating at the corner of Shouta's eye, and the scrapes on his forehead and elbow are still stinging, his hip throbbing, but he has his partner draped all over him, and their cats settling around them, and, really, nothing could be better. He's home.