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I could no longer count amount of times I'd mentally fantasized about confessing to my life-long friend and neighbor, Shoto Aizawa. However, in all of the scenarios I'd envisioned over the years, not one involved him being dressed as a disheveled Santa.
I had just curled up with a new book after a long day at the office. My TV played a recording of a crackling fireplace, bathing the dimly lit room in a warm glow. On the little table beside my couch sat a piping hot mug of hot cocoa as well as a festive holiday candle which gave off a pleasant aroma of cinnamon, cider, and freshly cut Christmas trees. Was it a little overkill? Probably, but I was as sucker for nostalgia and being away from family during the holidays was always hard for me.
Snugging deeper beneath my fuzzy fleece blanket I had only just cracked open my book when I heard the creak of my window being pulled open only seconds before something came barreling through it. I screamed as it crashed into my tree, toppling it over. Plastic bobbles and ornaments skittered out across the floor in every direction, like festive shrapnel. Adrenaline pumping, I gathered up my book like a baseball bat, ready to chuck it at the figure who was struggling to disentangle themselves from amongst the artificial branches.
They slowly rose to their full height, uttering a slew of curses beneath their breath as they made to adjust the floppy red hat on their head.
"Santa?" I breathed in disbelief, my fingers flexing around my book. Then the figure turned around and my eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. Shouta?
He echoed my name in the same incredulous tone. Then his gaze swept the room before settling back on me. "This isn't my apartment."
I choked out a laugh, releasing my death grip on my weapon. "Really? What gave it away."
His mouth moved, in what I could only assume was a smile, shifting a matted white beard that had clearly seen better days. He scowled, as if just now remembering it was there then tugged it from his face. Grumbling under his breath he stuffed it into the pocket of his oversized red felt coat--complete with white fluff trim. Then he moved to right the fallen tree.
Sitting my book on the table, I rushed to help him. "Not that I mind your company, but care do share why you're breaking into my apartment dressed as Santa to begin with?"
"Isn't it obvious," he said dryly. "I'm delivering presents."
"Ah, of course," I chuckled, helping him slide the tree back into the base. "Does that mean I've made it onto the 'nice list'?
His dark gaze raked over me as he handed me a glittery ornament. "That depends. Have you been a good girl?"
Heat bloomed in my chest, rapidly spreading up my neck then cheeks as my imagination ran wild. When his fingers brushed mine, I swallowed trying to ignore the tingles they left in their wake. Mentally scolding myself, I focused on the task I hand. I knew he didn't mean it like that; I needed to get my head out of the gutter.
"I'm always good," I said, taking the ornament and hanging it randomly on the tree. Then, before my face could heat anymore I changed the subject. "So, what did Eri think of her presents?"
He chuckled, eyes fixed to my heating cheeks. "She says she's too old for Santa.
I laughed at that. "Well, she will be starting her first year of high school next year."
"True, it just doesn't seem possible," he sighed, wistfully. "It seems like just yesterday we brought her to the dorms.
"Aw, Shouta," I teased, smiling fondly at him. "Who knew that being an old man would make you such a sap?"
He rolled his eyes, but couldn't suppress the small grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "You're awful bold for someone who just tried to use a book as a weapon."
I stuck my tongue out at him, plucking an ornament off the ground, I tossed it to him so he could add it to the side he was working one. "It would have gotten the job done."
"You think?"
"Well, maybe not against a pro hero." I picked up another ornament. "But definitely against a washed up old man in a Santa's costume."
His eyes sparked with challenge and mischief. "Wanna put that to the test, kitten?"
I back peddled as glanced over my shoulder to where my weapon of choice still sat on the end table. "Shouta, don't you dare." Be was already crouching, his grin causing the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes to become more pronounced. When he lunged I squealed tossing the ornament at his face as I darted across the room to the book. But, who was I kidding? Even if I had stood a chance, I would absolutely want to be caught.
Shouta's hands caught me by the waist, warm and steady, he lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and easily tossed me onto the couch. The effortless show of strength coupled with the way his body felt as it settled on top of mine was enough to soak the embers simmering low in my belly. He caught my wrists, gently pinning home above my head as he hovered over me.
"You were saying?" He asked, looking stupidly smug.
I feigned haughty disinterest even as my heart pounded against my chest. "Psh, I let you win."
His head tilted to the side as he studied me. "Did you?" From this angle he looked even more ridiculously handsome, all disheveled and smirking.
I hummed. "Definitely."
He shifted his position, slim hips settling between my legs. You wouldn't think it by looking at him, but hidden beneath all the baggy clothes he insisted on wearing was a droll-worthy body sculpted from years of hard training and welding his capture weapon. Even knowing him as long as I did, I'd seldom seen him without them, but those few times were truly a treat.
"And why's that, kitten? Did you want me to catch you?" The deep baritone of his voice send a shiver racing through me. Something he seemed to zero in on with keen interest.
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly full of cotton. Now, would be the perfect time to tell him--to confess all the feelings I'd kept locked away so long. For years we'd danced around the subject. Flirty words and lingering touches, but never anything more. It was the primary reason I hadn't ever made the move, myself. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind a little voice always seemed to poke holes in my confidence every time I tried. It whispered nasty things, like Shouta's interest in me didn't venture beyond flirting. That if he truly wanted more out of our relationship he would have already made a move and, even worse, if I tried to make the move myself, then I would forever ruin the friendship I had with him.
Warm knuckles knocked gently against my forehead. "Where'd you go, kitten?" he asked, softly and the genuine concern I saw written across his features was finally enough to trample the fear I'd clung to for so long.
"Shouta," I said, seriously.
Dark brows furrowed as he searched my face. "What is it?"
"I need you to know...that is, I've wanted to tell your a while that--" I sighed, tossing all caution to the wind. "I like you."
His brows rose briefly before settling back into their proper place, and one corner of his mouth tipped up. "I know."
I frowned. "No, I mean I like you, like you."
"I know."
Huffing, I scowled up at him my frustration mounting. Was he really this so dense? "No, that's not what I--damnit, Shouta. I'm in love with you!"
He started down at me with a bemused expression, eyelids at halt mast. "I know," he said again.
"I-you do?" I frowned. "Oh. Well, uh-that's great. Glad we-um...glad we cleared that up, then." Unable to look at him any longer I turned my head to the side, fixing my gaze on the artificial fire playing on my tv. I wasn't sure what was more embarrassing. Being rejected or knowing that the person you've been pining after had been painfully aware of your feelings the whole time.
"Hey," he said, quietly. His fingers grazed beneath my chin, turning me back to face him. I swallowed past the lump in my throat as my eyes met his and it suddenly felt like my heart was shattering all over again.
"Shouta, it's fine, just--"
"I'm in love with you too."
I blinked. "I-what? Really?"
He chuckled, looking down at me fondly. "Mmhmm."
"Then, why didn't you say anything?"
His expression grew serious and a little...sad. "My job requires a lot of me," he began slowly. "Being with me means a lot of nights spent by yourself. It's dangerous, not only for me, but anyone close to me could easily become a target. I couldn't...I could never put your through that."
"Shouta." I pulled my hands free from his grasp, and cupped one side of his face. All this time he'd been protecting me, denying what he wanted for my safety. "You're a pro hero. I know the risks."
"But-"
"No buts," I said, shushing him. "I know the risks and I understand the sacrifices, but you're worth every single one. There's no one else I'd rather risk it all with." My cheeks heated beneath his disbelieving stare, and I squirmed only to be reminded of how closely our bodies were pressed together.
"You're," he cleared his throat, "you're certain?"
I laughed, tugging his face down until our foreheads rested against one another's. "More than anything."
He searched my face one more time, still obviously fighting with himself. So, I took matters into my own heads and pulled his face down those last few inches, pressing my lips to his. Shouta responded immediately, hungrily. Pressing deeper into the couch as he showed me just how talented his tongue was. My fingers slid into his hair tugging him tighter to me, my other pressed against his chest where I could feel his heart pounding just as much as my own.
"Wow," I said, breathlessly, when we finally broke apart. "We should do that more often."
"I think that can be arranged," he murmured, huskily before capturing my lips again.
Later that night, as I lay on his chest, basking in his presence and the glow of the artificial fire I couldn't help but giggle.
"What's so funny, kitten?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble in my ear.
"Nothing," I said, raising my head to look up at him. "It's just...I was just coming to terms with the fact that I might have a Santa kink now."
Souta snorted, meeting my gaze. "Oh yeah?"
I hummed. "Any chance I can convince you to wear it again next year?"
"That depends, kitten."
"On?"
His dark eyes sparked with heat that made my stomach clench. "On whether or you're a good girl, for me."