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Atsuhiro is a thief. He's stolen, robbed, mugged, pickpocketed, and just about any other type of stealing you could imagine. He's good at it, years of practicing sleight of hand and misleading and hiding things from an audience lended themselves well to his profession as a villain.
He's stolen many things over the years; money, jewelry, wallets, credit cards, valuables, keys and key cards, phones. He stole a lovely new deck of cards for himself and plushies for Toga, a nice set of wine glasses for Kurogiri and new controllers for Shigaraki, heated blankets for Spinner and candy cigarettes for Twice, a wood burning set for Dabi and his arsonist tendencies. More seriously, he stole food and supplies for himself, to survive as a villain on the run.
All this to say, Atsuhiro has stolen many, many things in his time on this Earth.
"Atsu? Have you seen my-"
He's currently putting his skills and experience to good use.
Hizashi stops in the doorway, blinking at him from behind his sunglasses with wide green eyes.
"Huh." He says, sweeping his gaze down Atsuhiro's body then all the way back up.
Atsuhiro scowls slightly, pulls the leather jacket tighter around him.
Hizashi blinks again, once, twice more, seemingly buffering. Then he shakes his head, unable to stop himself from grinning even when he says "Atsu, I need that for work."
Atsuhiro scoffs, pulls his knees up where he's sitting on the couch with his face half hidden in the high collar of Hizashi's hero jacket.
"You have extras." He dismisses. Hizashi idles, so he snips a haughty "You're going to be late."
Hizashi pouts a little at that, and Atsuhiro is weak, so he waves him over before he can even get out a protest, fighting a fond smile when the blond brightens and practically skips over to the couch.
"You're such a baby." Atsuhiro mutters, grabbing a fistful of the red shirt his boyfriend is wearing and dragging him down for a sweet kiss. He tastes like toothpaste, which shouldn't be endearing, god dammit.
The kiss ends quickly because Hizashi is grinning too much to be able to properly kiss anymore and when he leans back, just enough to rest their foreheads together, Atsuhiro's cheeks warm at the fond, lovesick look in his eyes.
"I'm your baby though." He answers. Atsuhiro groans, tilts his head back and puts a gloved hand over Hizashi's face.
"Oh my god! You're ridiculous! You sappy bitch!" He complains. " I'm supposed to be the flirt here. Rather rude of you to try and steal my position."
"Consider it payback for stealing my heart." Atsuhiro groans again, louder, and shoves at Hizashi, who laughs.
"I'm going to steal that prized mustache of yours right off your face if you don't get to work." He hisses.
Hizashi beams at him, all sunshine and warmth and sweetness, and Atsuhiro quickly turns away with pink cheeks and a forced scowl. Sure, they've been dating for a while, but it was still too much sometimes.
"I love you, too." He says in a singsong voice, leaning over to place a chaste kiss to the brown curls on the top of Atsuhiro's head.
Atsuhiro's scowl softens considerably.
"Yes, yes, well. I didn't say all that." He mutters. Hizashi pinches a portion of the leather Atsuhiro's wearing between two of his fingers with a pointed tug and the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment. "Well- it's comfortable! And you have extras!"
It also smells nice, not that Atsuhiro will ever admit that.
(It smells like Hizashi.)
Hizashi's grin widens.
"And yet, you're not wearing the extras. You're wearing the one I wear." He points out.
Atsuhiro turns away from him, crossing his arms.
"Must I take it off? Am I not allowed to be comfortable in my own living room?" He mourns.
" My living room." Hizashi snickers. "You can wear it, it looks good on you anyway."
His face flushes and he kicks at Hizashi.
"Go away!"
Hizashi leans forward and kisses his warm cheek, to which Atsuhiro grabs the front of his shirt again and turns his head, puckering his lips up exaggeratedly.
"I love you." Hizashi murmurs, kissing him again, smiling against his lips.
"Yes, yes. I know." Atsuhiro cups his jaw in a gloved hand for a moment. "Stay safe, okay?"
"Of course." He leans into Atsuhiro's hand for a moment, then turns his head and kisses his palm. He can't feel it as much through the fabric, but he turns scarlet anyway.
"You're disgusting. Go to work." He grumbles, pulling his hand back. He hesitates, then decidedly adds, "I love you, too."
Hizashi beams at him again, pulling back and giving a mock salute.
"Aye, aye, captain! Going to work!" He fixes his sunglasses. "I'll see you later, okay, starlight?"
Atsuhiro softens despite himself, gaze warm and fond as he looks up at him.
"See you later, sunshine."
Hizashi disappears around the corner, most likely going to get one of his backup jackets.
Atsuhiro curls up more on the couch, pressing his face into the leather of the jacket and absently rubbing his thumb against the studs along the collar. It's familiar, and it's Hizashi's.
He'd be lucky to get it back, and he'd be even luckier if Atsuhiro decided against stealing more of his clothes.
It's not his fault Hizashi's clothes are comfortable, and around his size, and smell like Hizashi. It certainly isn't his fault that he's in love with him.
Perhaps he'd listen to the playlist Hizashi made him, later.
He smiles against the fabric, closing his eyes.
Of all of the things he’d stolen, Hizashi Yamada’s heart was definitely his favorite, though he’d never say something out loud; it was sickeningly sappy, although the way Hizashi grinned and blushed whenever he said something absurdly lovey-dovey was arguably worth it and made it very tempting.