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Aizawa considered himself to be a very logical sort of person. Unfortunately for him, as much as he tried, no one can think their way out of feeling. So even though he was perfectly aware that many of his thoughts surrounding his best friend of over 20 years were asinine and illogical, that didn’t stop them from happening.
As he sat on the floor in front of his couch, halfway through marking a stack of quiz answer sheets, he found himself turning the dilemma over in his brain once more. The issue itself stemmed from the fact that Yamada Hizashi was an incredibly open person prone to over-sharing, but also far too committed to seeing a bit through to the furthest possible end.This led to Aizawa having to try and draw some logical conclusions from Hizashi’s actions with less accurate information than he would like.
The problem itself, then, was that Aizawa had no idea what exactly Hizashi’s true feelings towards Aizawa were. As much as they were comfortable around each other, and Hizashi joked fairly often about ending up in Aizawa’s bed, he couldn’t seem to figure the separation between a bit seen through too far and genuine intentions. (Flirting. It would be flirting, but something about the idea of Hizashi flirting with him in earnest made his stomach do strange things, so he tried not to linger on the specifics of language).
He wasn’t sure he entirely knew what his own feelings for Hizashi were, either.
Aizawa was snapped out of his thoughts by his phone, buzzing against the solid wood of his coffee table. His eyes snapped to it, away from the ceiling patterns he’d been absently staring at before, and saw that it was a phone call from Kayama. He sighed, answered, and held it against his ear with his shoulder while he tried to focus back on the quiz answers.
“Shota! You’re not busy, yeah? We’re all going out for drinks tonight.”
“I’m busy.”
“Sorry, you must have heard me wrong. You’re coming out for drinks with us. You’ve got half an hour til the taxi will come pick you up, put something nice on.”
“I’m grading.”
“You have the whole weekend to grade, let loose a bit! Yamada’s gonna be there.”
“Mmph. Fine.”
“I knew that would convince you~ Wear something nice, ok! See you soon, Sho,” Kayama purred, hanging up on him before he could say anything about her snide remark. He sighed, and decided he may as well just leave the grading where it was for now. Not like he was being particularly productive, anyway.
Aizawa dragged himself to his feet, running his fingers through his messy hair and stretching his back. He rolled his shoulders as he padded to his bathroom, grimacing at his messy stubble. ‘Nice’, Kayama had said. That probably meant he should shave. And maybe iron the one tailored dress shirt he owned. He sighed again, tried not to think about what ‘something nice’ looked like on Hizashi, and started to make himself presentable.
After shaving, showering, brushing his hair and changing into black chinos and the white shirt he’d ironed, he didn’t have long until Kayama had said the taxi would be there. He stared at himself in his bathroom mirror, wracking his brain to try and decipher exactly how formal he was expected to be. Kayama hadn’t even told him where they were going, but it didn’t exactly matter. She was more stubborn than he was when she wanted to be, and from the phone conversation there was nothing short of several broken bones that would’ve gotten him out of going wherever it was they were going.
Maybe he could break his own arm or something.
He shoved the thought aside–breaking his own bones to avoid socialising was illogical, he could just leave early if it really got that painful–and then his phone buzzed with a text message.
We’re here!! 😚😚
The taxi outside was a minivan, and Aizawa groaned internally at the idea of having to be around that many people for more than an hour. Kayama and Hizashi were one thing - but this didn’t bode well.
The door slid open and revealed most of UA’s teaching staff - Kayama was in the passenger seat, with Kan, Yagi and Nishida occupying the back bench which left Hizashi in the middle with one open seat left. He couldn’t help but notice the others were wearing distinctly more casual outfits than he was, with the exception of Kayama in a black mini dress. He was glad he had decided against putting his hair up or putting on a suit jacket. Aizawa greeted everyone curtly, and took the window seat while Hizashi slid the door shut again behind him.
“Hey, that was my seat!” He protested, pouting as he buckled himself into the other seat, though Aizawa knew neither of them really cared that much. “You look good.”
“Kayama told me to wear ‘something nice’. I hedged my bets,” He replied, folding his arms and glaring at her through the rear view mirror.
“I’m glad you could join us, Aizawa,” Yagi mentioned from behind him.
“I wasn’t given much choice in the matter.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. If you really didn’t want to come you wouldn’t have shaved. Or actually come down to get in the taxi,” Kayama pointed out.
“If I hadn’t come down, you would’ve come up,” Aizawa countered.
She laughed. “You got me there!”
“I’m surprised you shaved, to be honest, I thought the stubble was trendy right now,” Hizashi commented.
“You know I don’t keep up with nor care about what’s ‘trendy’.”
“Yeah, I guess. You look good either way, though.”
“Where are we actually going?” Aizawa asked, directing the question at Kayama, though it was answered by Kan.
“The Red Barrel, the bar in the centre.” He supplied.
“Mm. Why?”
“Why not? Can’t we all just go out for some drinks on a weekend as friends?” Hizashi replied, gesturing loosely with a hand into the limited open space of the minivan.
“We aren’t all friends.” Aizawa pointed out.
“Ouch, Aizawa. They’re all sitting right behind us, you know,” Hizashi responded with a slight since.
“We’re colleagues. It’s not like the precedent has been set that we go out drinking together. Ergo, there is some event or reason that sparked this trip. What is it?” He reasoned.
“Wow, you overthink everything, don’t you? I bought a new dress and needed an excuse, that’s why. I thought it would be nice to get everyone to relax a bit for once,” Kayama explained, adjusting the hemline of said dress.
“Oh. Then why insist I come?”
“Because you’re probably more stressed and in your own head than any of us,” Yagi supplied, leaning forward to gently pat Aizawa’s shoulder. “You deserve the break. We all do.” Aizawa hummed, not protesting any further, and the conversation soon drifted into other idle topics between the three on the back bench.
When they got to the bar, Aizawa tried to stick close to Hizashi and Kayama, though Kayama quickly disappeared into the small crowd dancing around the make-shift dance floor where a few tables had been cleared and stacked off to the side. Hizashi bee-lined to the bar, having to lean over to talk into the bartender’s ear to order his drink over the loud music that was already grating on Aizawa’s ears. This was not where he wanted to be right now, but he hoped a couple of drinks would help that. As he was about to pull out his wallet, Hizashi leant back over to him to ask what he wanted.
“I can order myself, it’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked! What do you want?” He insisted. Aizawa thought about arguing but decided not to try and talk over the din more than he had to, and resigned.
“Just a beer is fine, whatever’s cheap.”
“Ok!” Hizashi replied, grinning and relaying the order to the bartender, opening a tab. After a couple moments he was handed two pints of beer, and he gave one to Aizawa while looking around for a free table. Kan, Yagi and Nishida had already grabbed a booth, and Hizashi started towards it before realising Aizawa wasn’t following. He turned back, slight frown exaggerated by his stupid moustache. “You good?”
“I don’t really feel like socialising that much tonight. I didn’t expect everyone to be here.” He answered honestly, sipping his beer and shoving his other hand into his pocket.
“Ah, I getcha. Let’s grab a smaller table, and maybe I can persuade you to dance with me after a couple drinks~”
He snorted. “Unlikely,” and they made their way to a small round table with three chairs around it at the other end of the bar, slightly closer to the dance floor than the booth.
Normally, Aizawa would feel more or less at ease when alone with Hizashi - they’d known each other long enough for that to be the case - but right now, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts drifting back to their earlier state of disarray. He was suddenly hyper-aware of all their little intimacies - knees pressed firmly together under the table, Hizashi leaning in to talk even if the ambient noise didn’t really necessitate it, his hand clasping over his own for dramatic effect or to ensure his attention. Were these the actions of a long time, openly affectionate friend, or did they have the undertones Aizawa thought they might?
Part of him wanted to say it was illogical to conclude anything about Hizashi’s feelings without being told directly. Part of him replied, he’s not like this with anyone else, there must be some reason for it! He decided not to overthink things. They were just good friends.
He would have been content with that answer for a while, he thought.
The night progressed, and without the prospect of having to get up early tomorrow for either of them (Sundays were their shared cheat-day), Aizawa had let Hizashi persuade him into a few more drinks and a couple of shots. The alcohol in him was enough now that when Hizashi took his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor, he didn’t protest as much as he usually would’ve. The song playing was some pop song from the charts, he thought, because Hizashi was mouthing along to all the words as he danced his way backwards into the crowd, paying little mind to who he bumped shoulders with. Aizawa found himself nodding his head and swaying back and forth a little to the beat of the music, mostly enraptured watching Hizashi fully let loose in his dancing.
Hizashi had always been a good dancer. He hadn’t seen much of it when they were younger, but when they met up again as pro heroes after graduating he’d let himself be dragged out to bars and clubs. He liked to see Hizashi happy like that, lost in the rhythms and the energy of the crowd. It was like dancing and singing while drunk or tipsy was meant to be his natural state of being, much like he imagined his own natural state of being was ‘asleep’.
It was logical to enjoy seeing your close friends be happy, he assured himself.
Hizashi danced his way over, and said something that Aizawa completely failed to register between his own thoughts and the volume of the music.
“What?” He replied, raising his voice somewhat. Hizashi put a hand on his waist and leaned into his ear to speak again -
“I said what time do you wanna go home? It’s getting pretty late.”
The warm breath against his ear, and the warm hand on his side made a shiver run down his spine and heat rise to his face that he hoped to whatever gods were listening the alcohol hid. Something in that illogical part of his brain screamed for that to happen again. He needed Hizashi’s hands on him and his voice close in his ear and-
He cut that thought off where it was. That was an illogical thought process to follow; Hizashi and him were just close friends, Hizashi was just a physically affectionate person and that fact was being exaggerated by the alcohol. It wasn’t a sign of any feelings he may or may not have.
“Uh. Are you done dancing?” He responded with his own question, glancing around to see if the others had left already. He didn’t see any of them.
“I mean, I could go all night, but you were starting to look tired,” He replied, still annoyingly close to his ear.
“I think the others are gone. What time is it?” He questioned, looking down at his watch. 11:43pm. When did it get that late? Had he really been out for 4 hours? “It’s nearly midnight. We should get going,” he decided, grabbing the wrist of the hand on his waist and dragging Hizashi with him to the bar to pay their tabs so they could go home.
In the taxi back, Aizawa got dropped off first. “Shooooo~ Can I crash at your place?” Hizashi asked, pairing the request with his best puppy dog eyes. Shota stood holding the handle of the door to the taxi and stared at him, face still flush from the drinks.
“You have your own apartment.”
“But it’s like another 20 minute drive and taxis are expensive and my place is a mess,” He complained, pouting.
“You have 3 jobs paying you, I’m sure you can afford it.”
“Pleeeeeeease? I’ll make breakfast tomorrow?” He offered.
Fuck. Hizashi wasn’t exactly the best cook, but the idea of waking up late and having someone already make food for him sounded good.
“Fine, you can sleep on the couch,” He relented, and turned away from the taxi, leaving the door open. He dug around in his pockets for his keys as Hizashi practically fell out of the car, paying the taxi fare and hurrying to catch up to Shota.
“Isn’t your couch tiny?” Hizashi asked, throwing his leather jacket loose around his shoulders as the late night chill hit his bare arms.
“I don’t have a guest room, so if you want to stay over, it’ll have to do,” Shota replied - the thought crossed his mind to offer sharing his bed, but that was a boundary they had yet to ever cross in their 20 years of friendship and he wasn’t sure now was the time he wanted to test it. The couch would have to suffice.
“Can’t we share?” Hizashi whined, following him up the stairs to Shota’s 3rd floor apartment.
“Share what?” Shota questioned, pointedly facing away from him and feigning ignorance as he unlocked his front door to hide the blush on his cheeks.
“Your bed! I know you have a huge bed, I was there when you bought it.” Hizashi pointed out, kicking his shoes off in the hallway and hanging his jacket up on the coat stand. He also took his hair out of the half-up bun it had been in, shaking his head a little to loosen it out and brushing it back out of his face.
He caught himself staring, and grumbled. He wanted to say he was adamantly not sharing a bed with Hizashi, but the longer he looked between his tiny couch and the 6’1” man currently stood in his kitchen drinking a glass of water, the more guilty he started to feel about the idea of making Hizashi sleep on the couch. “...As long as you don’t make it weird.”
“Promise! I’ll keep to myself, and I won’t keep you up,” Hizashi replied with a grin, bright green eyes darkened by his blown pupils. Why he was suddenly so focused on Hizashi’s eyes, he didn’t know.
He grunted in response as he wandered into his bedroom to change into something comfortable enough to sleep in. He ended up in just a pair of grey sweatpants, and when he came back into the main living area he found Hizashi sitting on his couch, looking at something on his phone, and two glasses of water on the coffee table. At the noise, he looked up and smiled at Shota - softer this time - and said “You should drink some water. Don’t wanna be too hungover tomorrow.”
“Mm. Thanks,” Shota muttered, picking up the glass and throwing a pair of pink sweatpants at Hizashi. “Go change.”
He floundered a little at the fabric being thrown in his face, and stared at them for a second. “Why do you have my sweatpants?”
“You left them here at some point.” He responded bluntly.
“When did I do that? I thought these were gone forever, I haven’t seen these in months,” Hizashi rambled as he walked into Shota’s bedroom to change. He took a moment to fuss the small grey and white cat currently curled up on Shota’s pillow behind the ears; it was one that Sho had found injured in a dumpster a couple of years ago while on patrol, and the local shelter couldn’t take any more adult cats, so he had decided to keep it. They had come up with naming it Gomi together. He pulled his shirt off and folded it, piling his necklaces on top before changing out his tight skinny jeans for the baggy pink sweatpants. He folded the jeans and placed them neatly on top of the pile, then leant out the bedroom door to ask “Hey Sho, is there a good place for me to leave my clothes?”
“Just put them on top of the dresser or something. I don’t care where you put them as long as it’s not in the way,” He replied, turning to look over the back of the couch at him.
“Right.” Hizashi disappeared briefly, then re-appeared and gestured to the bathroom door. “I’m gonna go take my contacts out.”
Shota made a noise of acknowledgement, and yawned as he wandered into the bedroom to gently pick up Gomi, giving him a few cuddles as an apology for unceremoniously re-locating him to the couch. He climbed into bed, putting his phone on charge and leaving his watch on the nightstand before rolling over and curling up to fall asleep.
Hizashi walked back into the bedroom having just thrown his contacts in the bin - he didn’t have the case or the solution he needed in order to keep them, and they weren’t exactly new either. When he saw Shota in bed, he suddenly felt extremely conscious of the fact neither of them were wearing shirts, and that this would be the first time they ever properly shared a bed. Maybe the fact Shota was letting him share his bed was a sign that Hizashi’s feelings weren’t just one sided? Or maybe he was just being practical - he would’ve surely ended up with back or neck pain if he had tried to squish onto the tiny couch, and Shota was just avoiding that for him out of friendly politeness. He sighed softly.
“Unreadable as ever,” He muttered softly, so as not to wake his sleeping friend, and carefully slipped into bed beside him. Shota’s bed wasn’t small, but they were both pretty tall adult men, so it didn’t feel spacious either. Hizashi turned away from Shota and towards the wall, deliberately hanging himself slightly off the edge of the bed so as not to impede on Shota’s personal space, and closed his eyes. Maybe they could talk about it in the morning.
Probably not.
When Shota woke up, it was to the smell of tea and fried eggs. The bed next to him was warm but empty, and Gomi had already taken over the pillow. He groaned as he rubbed his face and checked his phone for the time - 11am. Later than he’d hoped. Still, he dragged himself out of bed, stretched and grabbed a random t-shirt from his dresser that he pulled over his head as he wandered out into the kitchen.
Hizashi was stood over his stove, still only wearing his pink sweatpants, humming softly to himself as he fried 4 eggs. When he noticed Shota, he smiled over at him. “Good morning. Tea?” He offered.
“Please,” Shota muttered, leaning against the countertop while Hizashi poured him a cup. “What are you cooking?”
“Fried eggs and toast. Good greasy hangover food,” He replied, grabbing a couple plates from the cupboard as the toast popped up.
“Sounds good. Did you feed Gomi yet?” He asked, sipping at his mug of tea.
“Yeah, I gave him breakfast to shut him up so he wouldn’t wake you with all his screaming.”
Shota hummed in response, and stretched again. Weirdly enough, having Hizashi stay in his bed last night didn’t seem to have created any strange tension between them. He was glad for it, though that didn’t mean it hadn’t had any effect - right now all he could think of was trying to decipher how he felt about Hizashi. It wasn’t like he’d dated before, so whilst he knew he cared deeply about him, identifying those feelings as anything else felt like an impossible task. Maybe he’d ask Kayama about it, though that seemed sure to get him ridiculed.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Hizashi asked as he handed Shota a plate, walking over to sit on the floor cushions around the coffee table to eat.
“Uh, nothing,” Shota replied on instinct, feeling himself blush slightly.
“Didn’t look like nothin’” Hizashi teased, shoving food in his mouth and pointing a fork accusingly at Shota.
“Nothing that concerns you, then,” He clarified, and started eating as well, thankful for the excuse it gave him not to talk. He’d been so used to the idea that he and Hizashi were nothing more than close friends, that he’d written every action off under that pretence. Supposing there were more complicated feelings than friendship involved, though, Shota found himself thinking back and analysing a lot of their past ‘friendly’ encounters…
When Hizashi got home, he flopped onto his couch and immediately phoned Nemuri.
“Nem, I can’t take it anymore!” He cried as soon as she’d picked up.
“Woah, woah, slow down, reverse, what happened? What’s going on?”
“Okay, so last night me and Sho got drunk. And I dragged him over to dance with me at some point, but like, that’s not super relevant. Anyway it got to like nearly midnight and we got a taxi back, and I ended up crashing at his place cause I didn’t wanna pay the taxi fare - seriously the late night prices are extortion - and I was gonna sleep on his couch but it’s super tiny so he let me share his bed, and then I made him breakfast and left and we didn’t talk about it at. All.”
“Oh my god, was he good?” She asked teasingly, a slight purr to her tone.
Hizashi spluttered. “We didn’t fuck! When I say I shared his bed, that’s all I did.”
“Oh, shame. I thought maybe you two had finally made progress,” She sighed. “Did you at least take the opportunity to snuggle him?”
“I didn’t wanna invade more than I already had. I can’t take this anymore Nemuri, I seriously can’t tell if he’s into me or if he just does this stuff cause we’re good friends!”
“He’s told me to my face that I’m his ‘good friend’, Hizashi, and he’s not like that with me.”
“Well… maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m more affectionate?”
“I’d hardly call you more touchy-feely than me. I just stopped doing it to Shota cause of how stiff and awkward and uncomfortable he got. Clearly there’s something different here. I think he’s too stuck trying to be ‘logical’ to figure out he’s totally head over heels for you.”
“We don’t live in a rom-com, Nem! As much as I wish it’s true. What if I’m just projecting?”
“I think you seriously need to talk to him about how you feel, Hizashi. You’re not gonna get anywhere like this. You’re gonna have to be a big boy and use your words.” Nemuri giggled a little. “Honestly, you two are ridiculous.”
Hizashi sighed. “Yeah, I guess… I just don’t want things to change for the worse between us. I mean, if he finds out I’m in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same, what if it scares him off?”
“He’s known you for over 20 years, ‘Zashi. You’re not gonna scare him off no matter what you do. Besides, you know he lets you stick to him like glue because he likes having you around,” She pointed out. Hizashi sighed again and stretched himself over his couch. “Meet up with him at some point this week and actually tell him how you feel, okay? I’m kinda sick of your collective shit.”
“Ughhhh, fine! Okay! I’ll ask him to get coffee with me after work at some point this week.”
“Promise? I’m gonna hold you to it! I’ll bug you every day for the rest of your life if you don’t!”
“Yeah, yeah, okay, promise. I’ll talk to him. Thanks, Nem.”
“No problem ‘Zashi. Now stop focusing on your boy troubles and start focusing on those essays you have to mark.”
“Right. See you tomorrow,”
“See you~”
Hizashi set his phone on the coffee table and started the coffee machine brewing while he dug the essays out of his bag.
On Wednesday the following week, Hizashi found Shota in his classroom at the beginning of lunch. “Hey, Eraser! Are you busy after school today?”
“Mm, not particularly. Why?” He replied, clearing the blackboard.
“Do you wanna grab coffee with me?”
“...Sure, okay.”
“Great! There’s a good cafe I know, we can take my car if you want.”
“Okay.”
“Awesome! I’ll find you here at the end of the day, right?”
He hummed an affirmative, and Hizashi left to return to the staff room desperately trying to ignore the pounding of his heart against the inside of his ribcage, like a mocking drum heralding the end of his good relations with his best friend. He desperately hoped it was wrong.
The end of the school day came all too fast and not fast enough. Hizashi knocked on the door of 1-A’s classroom, but it was opened by the students before he had the chance to. He briefly said hi to the leaving students, and awkwardly stood around while waiting for Aizawa to pack up his laptop and work.
“Okay, let’s go,” Aizawa announced, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.
“Alright! How was the class today?” He asked, deciding he couldn’t bear to be in silence around Aizawa any longer.
“It was fine. The same as usual - though they were disappointed that the training today was just general fitness.”
“Ah, yeah, those kids would definitely think of that as boring. Though I’m pretty sure if you told them anything was key to being a hero, they’d do it without question,” He laughed, walking with Aizawa out to his car.
“Yeah, probably. Let’s not talk about work though - I want to think of almost anything else,” Shota complained, climbing into Hizashi’s low-riding blue and white sports car.
“That’s totally fair. What do you wanna talk about?” He asked, throwing his bag onto the backseat as he climbed in. “And can you pass me the hairbrush from the glove box?”
Shota handed it to him and watched him start brushing down the cockatoo-esque hairstyle. “Why even bother taking it down if you’re just gonna put it up again?”
“Because when I’m not working, it gets me a little too much attention,” He explained, smiling apologetically at Shota. “Sorry it’ll take me a little bit.”
“Mm. Why don’t you just get rid of it from your hero costume? Wouldn’t it be easier to work with it in like, a bun?”
“Cause it’s part of my image! I’m not Present Mic without the hair!” He responded despairingly. Luckily it only took him a few more minutes to work out most of the hairspray and gel’s effects, pulling it back into a low ponytail.
“I think you look nicer with it down anyway,” Shota muttered.
“Uh huh. Okay, let’s go!” He responded, starting the car and driving them off-campus to a cafe in a less well known part of the city. They parked a couple blocks away, and as they approached Shota saw it was small, cosy-looking, with a sign outside proclaiming it to be the “Black Cat Cafe”; a small logo of an all black cat with yellow crescent-moon eyes sat underneath.
“Is this a cat cafe?” Shota asked as he peered through the windows.
“It is! C’mon, let’s head inside,” Hizashi replied, already holding the door open for him. They entered the cafe and found a table in a corner with lots of cats hanging around - all of them black.
“This… is one of the best places you’ve ever taken me,” Shota said, completely deadpan-serious. Hizashi laughed.
“Aw c’mon, I’ve taken you to more exciting places than a cat cafe.” Hizashi protested. “What coffee do you want?”
“I’ll have a cappuccino. Do you want my wallet?” He offered, as a cat climbed into his lap.
“Nah, it’s all good. I’ll buy ‘em.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, man, don’t worry about it. I’m the one who asked you to come with me anyway.”
“Alright. Thank you, Hizashi.”
Hizashi grinned at him and went up to the counter to order, glancing back at Shota fussing over the 3 cats all vying for his attention. When he brought the coffees back to the table, he couldn’t help but say “You look like you’ve made friends! Unusual for you.”
Shota shot him a playful glare. “I befriended you, didn’t I?”
“I think that was the other way around, buddy,” Hizashi laughed. He fell quiet as he thought about what he was actually here to try and say.
“Zashi? Is everything okay?” Shota asked, reaching over to touch his hand.
“Huh? Yeah, everything’s fine. Well- Yeah, it is fine, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
At those words, Shota’s thoughts went into overdrive trying to predict what was coming next. Had he done something to upset Hizashi? Is this about sharing a bed? Was someone dying?!
“What is it?” He asked quietly, wrapping his hands around his mug, mirroring Hizashi.
“Ok, so, it’s nothing bad, first of all. You didn’t do anything, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”
Hizashi took a deep breath as he tried to figure out how to word what he was about to say. Shota waited patiently.
“Alright, I don’t really know how to word this… I mean, I guess I could just say it outright but that’d feel super blunt- Okay, so- ugh, words are difficult-” Hizashi rambled, thinking out loud.
“Just say it.” Shota interrupted. “Whatever it is. Just say it.”
When Hizashi looked directly at him, his expression was unreadable. Concern, maybe? Impatience? “Ahhhh, okay, but first you have to promise that you aren’t gonna hate me after.”
“I can’t promise that if I don’t know what you’re going to say.”
“Ugh, fine! I have feelings for you!” He finally blurted it out, wincing slightly in the expectation of rejection. There was a pause between them that felt like forever.
“...What kind of feelings?” Shota asked, unreadable as ever. Hizashi ducked his head and made himself busy stroking one of the cats currently rubbing against his leg.
“Romantic ones?” He offered quietly, and for the first time in a long time he felt himself losing his will to speak.
“...I see. I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Hizashi, I have no idea what my feelings are.” Hizashi took that as a rejection, and was about to say something about forgetting he said anything, but Shota continued. “I’m not good at this… kind of thing. I don’t know what romantic feelings feel like. I’ve never dated anyone before. But I do know that I care about you - a lot - and that even on the days I feel like I’m entirely done with people, I can still be around you.”
“Sho…” Hizashi started, staring at him with a stunned expression and a heavy blush on his cheeks.
“I want to manage expectations though – I’m not doing PDA, probably ever.”
“I can live with that. But… you’d be okay with stuff if it’s in private?” He asked.
Now it was Shota’s turn to blush. “That makes it sound weird. I… don’t know what I’m okay with yet. But if you want to call me your partner… I’m okay with that.”
Hizashi had tears forming in his eyes and he reached over to lay his hand over Shota’s. “Does that mean I get to call this a date?”
“...That makes it sound like we’re teenagers again,” He complained, and took a large sip of his coffee. “Also your coffee is going to go cold if you don’t drink it.”