Archive of Our Own

Toshinori didn’t consider himself much of a catch. He was an old and sickly man—nothing more than a shriveled up retired pro hero. There wasn’t much use for him these days besides on the teaching front but one could argue he wouldn’t be missed in that area either. But damn it, he tried. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and had never met a metaphorical—or literal—wall he couldn’t break through and so after months of studying from his self teaching books and bugging Aizawa for tips and experimenting on Midoriya, he thought he was finally making some progress. His class was improving in ways that had Nezu congratulating him and even Aizawa had given him a nod of approval during one of their joint classes. Toshinori swore the other man had a ghost of a smile on his face when he'd done it too and Toshinori had never known approval could look so beautiful. 

Maybe that smile was what gave him the false confidence, made him harness all his bravery from his All Might days and channel it enough to ask Aizawa out on a date later that day, after the school day ended and it was just the two of them alone in the classroom.

“You…want to go out?” Aizawa repeated slowly. He’d stopped mid cleaning his desk area and simply stared at him. Nerves bubbled under Toshinori's skin. “With me?”

Toshinori gulped, pushing down the nervous urge to tug at his front pieces, and nodded. “If that’s something you’d be open to. No pressure, of course. I know me asking can lead to uncomfortable implications and I would absolutely understand if you’d rather not.” He'd had fought hundreds of villains and yet nothing was as terrifying as having his heart in Aizawa’s hands, one rejection away from crushing it into a thousand pieces. “We can…we can pretend this never even happened. Just ignore me, hah, it was a crazy idea. Young Bakugou blew an explosion right next to my head earlier and my mind must still be scrambled from it—”

“Why are you acting like I’ve already said no?” Rather than looking offended, there was a hint of amusement shining through his dark eyes and—oh no Toshinori had it bad—”Sure, why not. Let’s go out.”

“Really?”

Aizawa rolled his eyes, his patience waning, and a hint of exasperation shone through his voice. “Yes, Yagi. Do you think I’d agree as a joke? But,” he gave Toshinori a stern look, “Nowhere loud. Or has kids. I get enough of that here. I don't want to be anywhere near similar on one of my nights off.”

Toshinori perked up. “I can do that. Any other requests?” He’d been harboring his ridiculous crush for ages now and the last thing he’d want is to mess up his chance over something as silly as jumbling up his date’s preference. “Anywhere specific you’d want to go? Or food requests?”

Aizawa snorted. “I’m not doing all the work for you. You’ll have to find a place on your own or did you not think that far ahead?”

Toshinori had indeed not thought that far ahead. He didn’t even think Aizawa would say yes. He’d only gained the courage to ask him out now because Aizawa had smiled at him in class with a certain gleam in his eyes that made Toshinori melt internally into a disgusting goo puddle and want to hold the other man in his arms and do something outrageous. Like slide his too long arms around him like one would with a kitten but he wasn’t going to let him know that.

“I-I—yes! I do know a place. I was only asking in case you had somewhere else better in mind but I have no problem with my original idea.”

“I’m sure.” Aizawa raised an eyebrow but didn’t call Toshinori out on his blatant bullshitting. Instead he picked up the stack of student essays ready to grade off his desk and made his way out the classroom door with Toshinori following behind pathetically, unwilling to end their interaction so soon.

“Friday night then? How does that work for you? I’ll send you the address.”

Aizawa made a noise of agreement, his head already buried in essays as he nodded. “That works, I’ll be there.” 

Their paths started to split in opposite directions, both going somewhere else, but before they completely disappeared from each other’s view, Toshinori heard a call of his name that had him turning around. “Aizawa?”

Aizawa hesitated, seemingly debating with himself internally, before ultimately shaking his head. “It’s nothing, nevermind.”

It was clearly not nothing or else he wouldn’t have had the need to say anything in the first place. Toshinori frowned. For a split second he thought Aizawa was having second thoughts but something on his face told him it was something else. “What is it?”

The other man opened and closed his mouth a few times, doing nothing besides blowing air. Finally, “You haven’t talked to Mic recently at all, have you?”

Yamada? No, why would he— “No?”

Aizawa pursed his lips before they thinned into a small frown. “You’re sure? He hasn’t… said anything? To you?”

He blinked. “Only about swapping detention supervisions.” Yamada had asked him a couple days ago to switch duties with him because he had a prior commitment at his radio station he couldn’t give up but that wasn’t until next week. It had nothing to do with Aizawa. He cocked his head in confusion, wondering what exactly Aizawa was asking.

Except Aizawa chose now to try and give Toshinori a heart attack, his lips turning upward in one of the most clear cut smiles he had ever seen from him. It only lasted a second but it was enough to make his breath catch at the sight and his legs feel like gelatin. 

“That’s good. Good,” Aizawa mumured seemingly to himself. He turned around and continued down the hall once more. Was it his imagination or was there more of a pep in his step?

“Is that it?” Toshinori called back, amused more than irritated. “No explanation?”

Aizawa threw over his shoulder a simple, blunt, “Nope.”

Toshinori smiled despite the negative answer. He felt light, on cloud nine, never in all his years had he felt this happy.

He had a date to plan out. With Aizawa. The man he’d been daydreaming and thinking about nonstop for weeks now. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Toshinori made all the preparations by himself. He researched and researched for hours to find the perfect place to take Aizawa on their date. Toshinori agreed with him, as much as he loved his students, it’d be nice to get away from all the noise for one night and be able to relax without worrying, which was what he hoped he could get Aizawa to do when they went out. Heaven knows the underground hero needed the break. Toshinori didn’t know how he did it. Between teaching and grading and meetings and safety concerns it was a wonder some days how he still had time to eat and shower without a student or colleague demanding his time. Aizawa had all that plus taking care of Eri and working nights as an underground hero. Toshinori's respect and appreciation for him grew as the weeks turned to months passed—and, maybe, he fell a bit in love along the way too.

Aizawa put a lot into UA. Toshinori had watched the other man as he went around the training grounds and painstakingly gave each student pointers and feedback on what they were doing wrong while also handing out simple praise when earned, and the kids soaked it up eagerly. And then there was taking care of little Eri. Toshinori sometimes joined their training sessions in the evenings and saw how much gentler Aizawa was with the little girl, how he guided her and never let her feel bad when she couldn’t master something right away. Toshinori swore his own heart swelled and almost burst when Aizawa held Eri after she successfully managed to control her power and turn a mouse back into a baby.

Aizawa deserved to go somewhere nice, somewhere extravagant and fancy that would have every amenity that he could ever want. But Toshinori also knew Aizawa. He knew that he wouldn’t want that. The grouchy underground hero would be content with eating jelly packets on a rooftop under the moonlight because that was how he was. He enjoyed the minimal and thought anything more was superfluous. Toshinori could respect that, but flavorless jelly packets on a cold dirty rooftop did not sound appealing to him at his age and that was how he ultimately chose a small cat cafe on the other side of town.

The cafe would be perfect. Its setting was intimate in a way that would allow them privacy and the quiet that they wanted. And cats! Aizawa loved cats, he knew very well. It was the worst kept secret among the school that Aizawa was fond of the furry felines and Toshinori wasn’t above using that in his favor and giving him an extra edge to impress.

He sent the address to Aizawa the day before their plan to meet up and smiled when Aizawa replied with, don’t blame me if I spend more time with the cats than you.

Watching you would be enough, Toshinori replied. His smile became a dopey grin when the typing display for Aizawa went on for a few moments, pausing and stopping.

Disgusting, Aizawa typed back eventually. At least wait until tomorrow night to assault me with such nonsense

Mark your words

Aizawa didn’t reply back but that was okay. Toshinori felt like he’d successfully won their little exchange and he’d make good on his promise to shower Aizawa in his “nonsense.”

Thursday passed quickly. For the most part it remained a review day because the next day would be all tests and training examinations for 1-A. The two teachers were swamped with nonstop questions about hero ethics and advice on students’ quirks. Toshinori hardly had time to even look at Aizawa until the end of the day but when he did he found dark eyes already watching him. His breath caught momentarily before remembering he needed to breathe unless he wanted to start spewing blood like a fountain and he made himself consciously suck in air.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before Aizawa turned away, coughing into his arm a little too hard for Toshinori’s liking.

“Aizawa?” Toshinori asked, his worry obvious. His hands itched to hover over the man but he feared the repercussions from Aizawa, that he would see it as too smothering. “Are you alright?”

Aizawa waved him off. “Fine, fine,” he replied, sounding scratchy. He cleared his throat. “Just a dry throat. I’ll switch my coffee for tea when I get to the teacher’s lounge.”

“I could come with?” Toshinori suggested, perhaps sounding a little too hopefully. He was supposed to be meeting with young Midoriya soon but he still had a good twenty minutes before. Plenty of time to make tea for Aizawa and spend an extra minute or two simply with each other. Toshinori would never turn down an excuse to take over Aizawa’s time and take care of him a little. Aizawa seemed to make it his personal mission to see how far he could go by neglecting himself, maybe his lack of sleep was finally catching up with him.

Aizawa gave him an annoyed look as if reading his mind. “I can take care of myself, Yagi. I’m not some wilting flower in need of saving—it’s just a cough.” He gathered his paper stack, one higher than Toshinori had ever seen, and attempted to balance it in one hand while the other reached for his mug.

Toshinori frowned. “I know that. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have help.” Without asking, he grabbed the thick stack of papers from Aizawa's grasp, ignoring the squawk of outrage it incited, and promptly started walking out the door because he knew there was no winning an argument against him, leaving him with one other option: taking matters into his own hands. “Come on, Aizawa. I’ll even make your tea for you,” he called out over his shoulder.

He heard a huff but footsteps quickly followed and within no time caught up to him as he walked further down the hall.

“You don't even know how I like my tea,” came the petulant reply.

“Jasmine tea with a hint of honey—but not the brand left on the teacher’s lounge counter. You use a slightly more expensive one that you keep in the cabinet and hidden behind the health bars.”

Silence.

Toshinori hazard a look over to see Aizawa already looking up at him in surprise, the hallway lights dancing a certain way in his eyes that made the back of Toshinori's neck heat up uncomfortably and he quickly averted his eyes forward again.

“Not even Mic knows where I hide those, because god knows he’d have them all gone before I even get a chance to drink any before lunch,” Aizawa finally breathed out.

Toshinori shrugged. “I actually have to eat those health bars on account of, you know…” He gestured to his injured side where his stomach should’ve been and in its absence forced on a strict diet. “So it wasn’t hard to spot.”

Aizawa’s face was hidden beneath his capture weapon and Toshinori privately mourned the loss of not seeing his face. The pink tinge to the other's ears would have to do. “That doesn’t explain how you knew it was mine.”

Toshinori smiled fondly. “I recognize the scent of it. You usually drink it the day after a rough night out patrolling in the morning, before classes start. Sometimes during the day if the students are particularly difficult for you but that's not as common.”

Aizawa didn’t say anything to that, and Toshinori was briefly concerned that maybe he had overstepped, perhaps he had revealed how creepy he truly was. How weird was it that he memorized and could recognize what kind of day Aizawa had by the smell of his tea? He was more than a little grateful when they made it into the teacher’s lounge. They passed by Midnight and Cementoss at their computers as they walked to Aizawa’s own familiar set up.

“Good afternoon my lovely coworkers,” Midnight greeted brightly. Aizawa only grunted but Midnight expected no less, while Toshinori greeted her and Cementoss back just as cheerfully.

Toshinori practically herded Aizawa to sit down, throwing the student papers in front of him before snatching Aizawa’s mug and making a beeline to the small kitchenette area and starting on his tea. Aizawa gave a resigned sigh but said nothing to curb Toshinori of what he was doing, an action that immediately stood out to Midnight.

“And what do we have here?” She purred, her head stretched over to eye Aizawa critically. “Is our resident grump adding laziness to his resume, hm? What kind of message are you sending, Shouta? Making All Might wait on you like this.” Midnight clicked her tongue in faux distaste.

Toshinori couldn’t see whatever expression was on Aizawa’s face but he could imagine it was something close to glaring, his universal look that meant back off, because it made Midnight laugh and Cementoss snicker.

“Mind your business.”

“Shouta!” Midnight gasped. “I am offended you would say that to me, your best friend—”

“You’re not my best friend. I barely know you.”

She continued on as if he never spoke, “—I’m simply showing concern to my fellow colleague.”

“I don’t need your concern.”

“As if I would ever be concerned about you.” Midnight snorted, and Toshinori turned to pour the kettle in time to watch as she waved a hand in dismissal toward Aizawa. She looked over at Toshinori, “I worry about you taking advantage of our dear Yagi. Tell me, Yagi, he’s not threatening or blackmailing you to do this for him, is he? You say the word and I’ll have him knocked out for the next week.”

“Try it and you’ll be the one knocked out,” Aizawa growled, and really, the low timbre of his voice should not threaten to send pleasant shivers down his spine. The sound would definitely be featured in his future dreams.

Toshinori smiled indulgently at her. He enjoyed Midnight immensely, she was one of the first to make him feel welcome when he joined UA, and knew her teasing was affection mixed with a thinly veiled question, asking if everything was alright. For Toshinori to be making tea for Aizawa was abnormal, he could admit as much, but only because it was obvious Aizawa was letting him.

He made his way to Aizawa, setting his mug in front of him, the scent of jasmine and honey permeating the air.

“Aizawa isn’t making me, no,” Toshinori assured Midnight as he sat at his own desk. He didn’t bother booting his own computer because he had about ten more minutes until he had to leave. “He’s just indulging me.”

“By letting you hold his things and escort him to his desk? And make him tea?” Cementoss asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well considering he didn’t want me to in the first place, yes.”

Cementoss snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like Eraserhead.”

“I’m right here you know.” Aizawa glared before taking a long sip. Toshinori was closer than the other two teachers so he could see the slightly flushed look on the other's face. Aizawa wasn’t one to embarrass or anger easily so he attributed it to the warmth of the tea. Strangely, and pathetically, it satisfied something deep inside him to see Aizawa visibly getting better by Toshinori's own making. Sure, Aizawa could've made the tea himself but he'd allowed him to do it—he'd consider it progress.

Midnight winked. “We try to forget but thank you for reminding us, Shouta.” She ignored the scowl he shot her way to ask Toshinori, “Could I trouble you to make me tea as well, Yagi?” She gestured to her computer, “I’m in the middle of planning this three hour long training exercise for my third years and I’m afraid I’ll pass out if I don’t have anything to stave off the headache currently banging around my head.”

The request took a second to register—no one had ever asked him to make them tea before—but he was jumping to his feet in no time. “It's no trouble at all, Midnight.” 

She pouted. “Still calling me Midnight? I thought we’ve gotten closer than that, Yagi? At least call me Kayama if Nemuri is too much.”

“Ah, yes, Mid- Kayama,” he corrected himself. The change was long overdue but old habits die hard. He recently started calling Present Mic by his family name.

He started toward the kitchenette but a firm voice stopped him in his tracks.

“No.”

Toshinori casted a bewildered look to Aizawa, the source of the voice. “No?”

Midnight, likewise, looked at Aizawa in equal confusion. “What do you mean no? Are you the only one who can have tea made by Yagi?”

Aizawa let out an aggrievied sound. “Did I say that?” He took another sip and cleared his throat. “Yagi can’t. He doesn’t have the time, he’s got to meet Midoriya soon.”

Oh, yes that was true. But how did Aizawa know that? “It’s no problem, M- Kayama. I have enough time to make tea for you before heading out.”

Midnight gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you—”

“No you don’t. There’s seven minutes until he expects you. That’s not enough time for you to prepare her tea and get all the way to the training grounds.”

Toshinori had to stop the surprise from showing on his face. Not only did Aizawa know he was meeting with Midoriya but he even knew where. 

“Young Midoriya will understand if I’m running a few minutes behind, it’s alright.”

Aizawa scoffed. “Midoriya? Understand? He’ll probably think you up and died on the sidewalk on your way to him and work himself into a panic.”

He grimaced. Disagreeing would be hard there. Midoriya was known to go for the most outlandish reasons before logical ones at first. Toshinori shook his head fondly, his successor was great at thinking under pressure during battle but when it came to anything else he was inconsolable. He’d have to help him with that as well. He made a mental note to prepare something in the future regarding Midoriya and his anxiety induced conspiracies.

Toshinori turned apologetic eyes to Midnight. “I’m terribly sorry, Kayama, Aizawa is indeed right about young Midoriya. I do have to go.”

She shot an unimpressed look at Aizawa who smirked into his mug. She sighed forlornly. “It’s alright, Yagi. I’ll take a rain check this time, only if you,” here, she shot her own smirk at Aizawa, leaving Toshinori confused about what was going on, “promise to make me a cup next time. You must be amazing if Aizawa seems to want to hog you all to himself.”

Toshinori flushed at the praise but felt it was unnecessary. The only reason why Aizawa seemed eager about his tea was because it was his own private kind used under special circumstances. It had nothing to do with how Toshinori made it. But in the end he did promise to make Midnight her own tea if that was what she wanted.

He said his farewells to her and Cementoss before turning to do the same to Aizawa. Aizawa wasn’t looking at him, staring intently at his computer and typing away.

“See you tomorrow, Aizawa.” Toshinori waved. He stood patiently on the other side of Aizawa’s computer, no better than a dog waitinf for its master's approval for dismissal.

“Mhm,” came the half hearted reply.

He deflated a little and tried not to let it dampen his good mood. This was Aizawa’s grading time and he was taking that up every second he stayed so he said goodbye one last time and left.

What Toshinori didn’t see was how as soon as he left the room, the sound of typing stopped almost immediately and eyes stared at the door as if willing him to come back.

“You’re such an idiot,” Midnight sighed at her friend. “Pathetic.”

Aizawa didn’t deign to reply. His eyes left the door to the tea in front of him, steam still rising from it. He took another drink. It did nothing to combat the headache that had been steadily growing all day but it tasted heavenly, especially when he remembered whose hands it had been made by.

Today was the day. The day everything changed. The day Toshinori was given the opportunity to woo Aizawa and prove he’d be a good partner. 

Toshinori woke up on a good day. He usually woke up wheezing and breathing heavily because he couldn’t help but turn on his bad side when he slept but blessedly he didn’t move the slightest bit last night as if his body knew how important today was. He took all his medications like usual and instead of the persistent nausea that accompanied it, the overwhelming excitement and nerves swept over him, overshadowing any ill side effects of his daily medicine.

Mornings typically consisted of a smoothie and water on account of his stomach rebelling with the medication, but he found himself actually hungry. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, taking in the shocked look on his face. Him! Hungry! It was as rare as it was wonderful. It'd been years since eating had been something to enjoy instead of just another chore to keep his body running.

Toshinori pampered himself by making a light breakfast. He felt hungry, yes, but he didn’t want to jinx himself and go over what he could handle. But when he finally sat down to enjoy his meal, he savored every bite. When his plate was scraped clean, he shamefully felt himself on the verge of tears. It had been so long since food had tasted so good.

When he made his way out of the teacher’s dorms and toward the school, he took a moment to stand in the open air and breathe. It was cold, as expected in the middle of winter, but the sting of the cold was refreshing to his old lungs. He closed his eyes and titled his head to the sky. It was too early for the sun but he didn’t care. He simply let himself embrace nature around him and that was enough. 

By the time he made it inside UA, his face was flushed pink with the cold and his smile edged more on something wilder than sane but what did it matter—today was the day! He’d do whatever he pleased.

His upbeat attitude followed him through out the day, from greeting his coworkers in the hallways to high fiving every student he saw. Most of his students like Young Midoriya and Uraraka met his high fives with bright grins of their own while others, like Young Bakugou and Todoroki, looked at their teacher like he had personally told them frogs now ruled the world.

“Are we sure this isn’t a ploy from the League?” Toshinori heard Todoroki whisper to Midoriya and his group of friends.

“Todoroki,” Uraraka said with equal parts exasperated and fondness, “It’s not that out of character of All Might. He’s always cheerful!”

“Not like this,” Todoroki said, a grave look on his face. “It’s been ten minutes and he hasn’t stopped smiling. I don’t think he’s even blinked.”

Had he really not blinked? Toshinori made himself blink and, yup, his eyes stung. It’d been a while since he’d blinked. Oh well. It couldn’t have been that scary.

“I think he’s fine—look! He just blinked! See Todoroki, nothing to worry about,” Midoriya chimed in.

“Midoriya, he’s your father. You should be the one making sure he hasn’t been switched with Toga or hit with some quirk.”

Toshinori stood stock still as Midoriya spluttered between explanations, his successor managing to spew out that they weren’t related and to stop saying that! His sad attempt at explaining probably would’ve gone longer had it not been Young Iida, thankfully, cutting and ending such discussion, claiming it was inappropriate to speculate about their teacher and be happy he was in a good mood.

“Now, let’s use this time productively, like going over our Hero Ethics review,” Iida adjusted his glasses, “Midoriya! I need your opinion on this question…”

Toshinori was not going to touch on Todoroki’s earlier claim about his and young Midoriya’s relationship. That was a crisis for another day. Another day where he could carefully examine Midoriya’s response and piece together exactly why his heart flickered when he heard him vehemently deny any familiar relationship between the two.

No, instead he left the classroom to go to the teacher’s lounge, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aizawa before the day started because he knew there wouldn’t be room for any downtime if yesterday was anything like today. 

His eyes scanned over the teacher’s lounge, looking for long black hair and a familiar capture weapon, but frowned when he didn’t spot it.

“Looking for something, All Might? Or maybe someone?”

He turned around to see Yamada looking at him over the rims of his glasses, a knowing smirk across his face. Toshinori smiled at him uneasily. He didn’t like how it felt like Yamada could read him dead on but he also didn’t have the time to worry about it right now.

“Is Aizawa nearby?” Toshinori asked, still peering over the room as if he hadn’t already scanned it, but he wasn’t too optimistic. 

And he was right not to be. Yamada shook his head in negative. “You just missed him as a matter of fact. Shouta hurried out of here like the place was on fire,” he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Very rude if I do say so myself because I was in the middle of telling him about my next segment on my show—hey Yagi, do you wanna hear about it? I think you’d actually be interested, it’s about asking my guests about the most embarrassing story they have and then I….”

Toshinori frowned, letting Yamada’s words fade into the background as he racked his brain over what Yamada told him.

Aizawa had just left, seconds before Toshinori arrived—surely it was just coincidence? But…

Aizawa preferred to stay in the teacher’s lounge until it was time for classes to start, and there was still a good twenty minutes before he had to head to his class. It could just be nothing though, it wasn’t completely unheard of for Aizawa to go to his classroom early if he needed to talk to one of the students or last minute preparation was needed on a test or extra programming to the training ground bots.

Something heavy settled in his gut. Toshinori regretted eating a breakfast this morning. 

The rest of the school day was largely uneventful. He helped 1-B with their training examinations with Vlad because 1-A’s was in the afternoon. He had no trouble with the kids in that group except maybe Monoma, who tried a bit too hard to stand out and nearly got himself hurt when he tried to use a quirk he hadn’t had enough time to practice with prior, and nearly got him and Toshinori hurt in the process. But that was okay, normal even, compared to how many times he’d almost been hit by a stray acid spray by Ashido or electric blast by Kaminari. Nothing new.

By the time lunch rolled by, Toshinori had mostly forgotten his worries over Aizawa. It was only a coincidence, he told himself. Aizawa was not having cold feet about their date tonight and avoiding Toshinori. The other man would’ve outright said he didn’t want to if he didn’t feel up to it. Aizawa wasn’t one to beat around the bush, no, he was blunt, almost too blunt sometimes, but Toshinori was used to it at this point. He knew Aizawa was only realistic.

He didn’t find Aizawa during lunch, but that had more to do with how he was pulled by a frazzled looking Midoriya and an angry Bakugou to the private room of the teacher’s lounge and spent the whole lunch hour reassuring the two that Midoriya had made great strides controlling Black Whip, and that worrying about it now at the eleventh hour would do more harm than good.

He had a feeling he should be taking his own advice.

It wasn’t until it was 1-A’s turn to take their examinations that he saw Aizawa and—wow.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the outside training ground. Aizawa wasn’t looking at him but he didn’t need to in order to see how, well, frankly awful the other man looked. It wasn’t unusual to see eyebags under Aizawa’s eyes but currently they were even darker, more pronounced and puffy, and served to highlight the red in his eyes, red that had nothing to do with his quirk.

Toshinori took a step closer in concern but without even glancing his way Aizawa took a step back, scribbling away on his clipboard.

“Aizawa…?”

“I’m fine,” came the clipped reply.

“You don’t look like it,” Toshinori said bluntly. 

“Wow. Thanks, Yagi.” Aizawa muttered sarcastically, “That’s what every girl wants to hear. You must be great at picking up dates.”

He winced. “Sorry, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“And what did you mean?”

Aizawa looked up finally, staring at Toshinori blankly. He looked expectant, as if waiting for some kind of judgment that Toshinori didn’t have. Concern was the first thing on his mind.

“I’m just worried. Are you okay? You look…”

“Like shit.”

“I was going to rough.” He wasn’t going to agree with Aizawa although it was an accurate description.

Aizawa sighed. “I’m fine. Tough night. Bad patrol. Didn’t get in till late this morning.” He went back to writing something on his clipboard, tongue clicking in annoyance at a mistake and scribbling what he wrote entirely.

“Oh…” Disappointment flooded him with guilt following suit. Aizawa was most likely going to cancel on him tonight and yes he was disappointed about that. But it was clear Aizawa wasn’t up to it and there was no way Toshinori would hold him to their date. They could always reschedule for another day. If Aizawa wanted to, anyway.

Toshinori cleared his throat. “That’s alright then. I suppose we don’t have to go out tonight then, no big deal. Get some sleep tonight, Aizawa.” He tried to smile in reassurance but it felt wooden, not real.

Aizawa’s head whipped up so fast to look at him Toshinori wondered how his neck didn’t break. “Who said we’re not going out tonight?”

He blinked. “I only assumed… because you’re not feeling—”

“Is that what you want?”

Toshinori gaped. Did he want to cancel? Absolutely not. He selfishly wanted their date, sleep deprived Aizawa and all, but he also wanted the other man healthy and not on the verge of collapse during it. “No! No, I don’t want to cancel!” He was quick to explain, “But you need rest, I don’t want you to feel pressured into still joining me if you’re not up to it—”

Aizawa scowled. “Pressured? Me? Please.” He snorted but it led to him momentarily coughing into his arm which only proved Toshinori's point. The dark look thrown his way told him Aizawa was aware of that too. “I’ve done missions on less sleep and they were all successful.”

Toshinori hesitated, thinking of how unhealthy sleep deprivation was, especially for the underground hero, but it was the wrong thing to do. Something flashed across Aizawa’s eyes, too quick for Toshinori to completely put a name. Resignation was the closest he could tentatively label it as.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But don’t use me as an excuse to get out of it, just say it.”

Toshinori was dumbstruck. Of all things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. 

In two long strides he was in front of Aizawa, his hands grasping his upperarms, causing Aizawa to startle and look up at him in surprise. Luck was on their side, the kids still in the changing room, so it was only them alone outside to witness Toshinori gaze heatedly into Aizawa’s eyes. 

“I absolutely want to go out with you tonight. I’ve been wanting to for months and have been thinking of nothing else but you and I with cats tonight, but not at the expense of your health. Your wellbeing is my number one concern. I want you to be able to enjoy tonight with me. Do you understand?” Aizawa paused but then nodded slowly. Toshinori grinned. “Great. If you truly feel up to it then of course I’d love to go tonight! But we can always plan for another night. What matters is that I get your undivided attention, and not you daydreaming about going to sleep.”

Aizawa stared into his eyes, looking for any sign of insincerity, and when he didn’t find any, he relaxed slightly and rolled his eyes. “If you wanted my undivided attention then taking me to a cat cafe is the worst way to get it.”

Toshinori shrugged. “I’m alright being second best in this case, so long as it's for cats and not your sleeping bag.”

The pink already on Aizawa’s cheeks deepened to a red and he pulled away from Toshinori. He privately mourned the loss but seeing Aizawa blushing was compensation enough.

“Go make sure the students are ready,” Aizawa muttered, already turning away, “I don’t need a repeat of Kaminari electrocuting all the boys again.”

“Yes, sir!” Toshinori replied cheekily, laughing when he side swept Aizawa’s capture weapon.

With that misunderstanding out of the way, Toshinori found it easier to breathe through the rest of the school day. He only had to deal with minor hiccups with the class but it was nothing compared to how his heart raced every time he glanced to watch Aizawa move on the other side of the field. By an unspoken agreement, they both decided Toshinori would be more hands-on with the class this time around while Aizawa leisurely strolled by the students and wrote notes for grading on his clipboard. It was up to Toshinori to go to each student and watch how they used their quirk against the training robots.

By the end of the school day Toshinori was exhausted but in high spirits. He waved at each student in goodbye as they left the grounds until it was only he and Aizawa once again.

“I could make you your tea again if you’d like,” Toshinori immediately offered once they were left alone. The flush on Aizawa’s cheeks had mostly gone away but he had heard the other man coughing into his arm when he thought no one would notice.

Aizawa shook his head though. “I’m not grading tonight, but thanks. I’ve got training with Eri and then I have to talk to Mirio about some things. But I’ll see you tonight?” The last part was said as more of a question than a statement and Toshinori was quick to confirm.

“Tonight.” He grinned. “I’ll see you then at seven.”

Aizawa’s capture scarf was up too high to see his mouth but Toshinori could hear the small smile in his voice. “Seven it is.”

Toshinori was a bit of a mess when he got back to his rooms. 

Okay, a bit was an understatement. He was a lot of a mess. Huge mess. Gigantic mess.

There was a few hours until he had to be out the door but he still spent forty minutes picking an outfit, and when he finally found one he was comfortable in, he spent another forty minutes nitpicking how it looked in comparison to his face and hair and worrying about how his jacket made his arms looks too long and gangly or if the cologne he decided to use was too overwhelming to the point Aizawa would take one sniff and scrunch his nose up in distaste before up and leaving him at the cafe.

All that worrying and grooming took so much of his time that he barely noticed when his watch said six-thirty on it. He jumped up and took a few minutes to study his reflection in the mirror, combing and pulling at unruly pieces of his hair before being satisfied with how he looked enough that he felt confident in leaving.

When he sat down at the cafe it was six-fifty. Perfect. Enough time to gather himself and pretend he wasn’t sweating and internally panicking and feeling on the verge of throwing up. He was over fifty years old for god’s sake. A grown man and acting like a high school boy on his first date.

Well, he thought to himself wryly, it wasn’t that far off. It’d been years since he’d last been on a date, and even longer since he’d been on one with someone he actually liked. His past dates were usually too starstruck by All Might that they forgot about Toshinori, and by the time they cared to ask about him he was already put off by the whole thing. But not Aizawa. Aizawa had been the opposite of starstruck over All Might, going so far as hating him, before slowly thawing out and giving friendship a chance.

But Toshinori was greedy and yearned for more than friendship from him. He was glad that Aizawa seemed open to something similar.

Toshinori wasn’t sure what to order as a drink and settled for asking the worker over the counter to give him something new to try. What he got was something slightly too sweet for his body to handle but that was okay, if he took small sips and didn’t eat anything sweeter he’d be able to digest just fine. Hopefully.

He moved his straw idly and glanced at his phone. Seven o’clock on the dot. Aizawa would be here any second. The man was known for being on time which made Toshinori confident that he’d be walking through the door soon.

Toshinori almost jumped when he felt something rub against his leg and he looked down, smiling when he saw a black cat nudge its nose again. “Hello there,” he murmured as he reached a hand down to scratch under its chin. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?”

The cat blinked slowly up at him before meowing softly. Toshinori continued petting the cat—Boba, according to the nametag—and melted when Boba began to purr loudly.

“My friend would love you,” Toshinori told Boba. “When he gets here I’ll introduce you. You’ll probably like him more than me, all cats seem to gravitate to him. Maybe it’s a secondary quirk, attracting the trust of cats. You’ll have to tell me.” He glanced at his phone and frowned when the time lit across his face.

Seven-oh-seven.

Aizawa was a little late. It wasn’t like him but nothing to worry about yet. He knew Aizawa was tired so perhaps he was simply moving slow? Or got lost trying to find the place? He opened his messages and sent a quick text to the other man.

are you finding the place alright?

Toshinori laid his phone back on the table and glanced around the room. The cafe had a nice and warm welcoming atmosphere. It was mostly quiet other than soft jazz music in the background but you couldn’t hear it unless you were really listening, and other customers talked to each other in low murmurs. Aizawa would like it here. When he got here.

After another minute or two of waiting without a reply, he sent a couple more messages.

Aizawa?

I’m here waiting, where are you?

At seven-fifteen with no reply, he sent another message reeking of desperation.

are you still coming?

He stared at his phone, waiting for the typing message bubble to appear from Aizawa’s side but nothing appeared. Not a bubble and certainly not a message explaining why he was running late. He swallowed thickly but the lump in his throat stubbornly remained. Humiliation settled into his bones when he noticed the pitying look one of the workers gave him from behind the counter, and he watched as the worker leaned over to whisper to their coworker and subtly point to him. He was forced to stare ahead and act like nothing was wrong as he took small sips from his disgustingly sweet drink he didn’t even like as both workers looked at him in pity.

He didn’t understand. A few hours ago they both agreed to meeting each other tonight. What had changed? Did Aizawa change his mind and decide going out with Toshinori was a bad idea?

Toshinori immediately shook that thought away. Aizawa was a lot of things but he wasn’t cruel enough to make him come all the way here and not respond to Toshinori’s texts. Aizawa would’ve said something beforehand.

Perhaps Aizawa got pulled into a last minute mission? Toshinori hummed aloud, not disregarding that idea entirely. It was possible. It’d explain why he didn’t have time to warn Toshinori about not being able to make it. 

By the time it was an hour past their original meeting time, he was tired. He gave up waiting for Aizawa, had stopped looking desperately towards the door as if the other man would suddenly appear in his hero costume and give an explanation about how he got stuck in a spontaneous raid but he was sorry and here now. Aizawa never showed.

Toshinori stood up. He gave one last pet to Boba on his way out as he threw his drink in the trash that was still more than half full. He disappeared quietly into the darkness of the city.

Don’t bother anymore. I left.

When he was safe behind the walls of his room, anger hit him. Anger at Aizawa. For promising to meet him. For not replying to his texts. For leaving him to sit in a cafe all alone like some pathetic pinning old man.

Anger at himself that he was a pathetic pinning old man.

He threw his jacket across the room. He didn’t care where it landed. It could’ve gone out the window for all he cared. He seethed, and rage bubbled beneath his skin. If he were still in his prime as All Might he’d be in the air right now, finding some place to blow off some steam. A forgotten mountain to smash into nothing. The middle of an ocean to drown himself in. Flung himself so high in the air he could see the stars clearer than the ground beneath him and air so thin he couldn’t focus on anything other than the cold surrounding him. But he couldn’t do any of those things anymore, because he wasn’t All Might anymore. 

He was just plain old boring Yagi Toshinori who was so easy to leave behind apparently.

He closed his eyes, tears stinging behind his eyelids. Why was he so easy to leave?

What was it about him that people found it so easy to walk away from? It couldn’t be due to losing his pro hero status, because it happened more often when he was All Might than any other time. Time after time he had gotten close to someone only for them to move on. That left only him. Something so fundamentally him that people perceived and didn’t like and so it was simpler to kick him aside.

He was too clingy yet distant at the same time, he knew. Toshinori poked fun at Midoriya’s crybaby neediness but if anyone was the king of them it was himself. He clung too hard to his mentor, Shimura Nana, to the point where near the end of her life she had to slowly start pulling away from him. She tried to make it painless, claiming it was because Toshinori was about to be a pro hero soon and she wouldn’t be around forever, but he knew the truth. He was too much. He looked at her more than a mentor — like the mother he had lost and Shimura hadn’t wanted that.

After her death he learned. He learned to keep his clinginess to himself. He respected Gran Torino and appreciated his guidance when he was younger but he’d never let himself get too close. The same went with Sir Nighteye. He didn’t want to drive them off with how much he cared until eventually they did leave. They did end up leaving at some point. They always did.

Midoriya was only a matter of time. A couple more years and the young hero wouldn’t need him anymore. Maybe right now he enjoyed when Toshinori made him bentos on special training days and beamed when Toshinori patted his head but soon he’d get sick of it. Sick of how greedy Toshinori was with his affection wrapped up in smothering.

Of course Aizawa got away while he could. Of course Aizawa could see the writing on the wall and bailed before Toshinori could sink his claws into him and drag him down. It was inevitable. Aizawa was only being smart and able to see what would’ve happened had they taken their relationship to the next level. He couldn’t blame him.

Toshinori didn’t want to be with himself either.

His anger melted into heartbreaking despair all at once and he clutched at his chest as if his heart was physically tearing itself apart because surely it was. There was no other explanation for why he was in so much pain.

He stumbled into his room blindly and collapsed on his bed, closing his eyes. He didn’t bother with the tears that fell and soaked the pillow beneath his head and simply willed himself to fall asleep. Sleep wouldn’t help him but it was better than feeling.

Toshinori jumped awake, heart practically beating itself out of his ribcage. What the hell is happening? 

Banging. There was banging on his door. Someone was attacking his door as if it were a villain on the other side.

He fumbled with his phone, blinking blearily, and tried to get his eyes to focus on the screen. One-twenty in the morning.

Someone was knocking on his door in the middle of the night. His breath caught and terror seized him, squeezing his lungs from the inside. The League of Villains are inside the school, his mind immediately shouted in panic. A thousand different scenarios assaulted him and the one that sent him in a panic and scrambling to his feet was, Oh my god they have Midoriya.

He was still in the clothes from his failed outing so all he had to do was stagger his way to the door and fling it open, adrenaline almost making it fly off the hinges. 

But on the other side of the door was not Nezu or Tsukauchi or even one of the other teachers. No, it was the last person he wanted to see.

Aizawa

Aizawa who broke his heart and left it waiting at a stupid cat cafe. Aizawa who said he’d be there. Aizawa who—

Aizawa who looked one small puff of wind away from falling over.

What.

Toshinori quickly took stock of what he was seeing and still blinked, wondering if he was still asleep. Because this was not the normal aloof Aizawa he was used to seeing everyday. He rubbed his own eyes just to make sure and, yup, the picture in front of him was still the same.

The first thing that popped out to him was how bloodshot Aizawa’s eyes were, as if he simultaneously had no sleep and too much at the same time. His eyes trailed down from purple eyebags to the deep unhealthy looking flush across the other’s cheeks. Next was how hard Aizawa was breathing, or wheezing more like, huffing and puffing as if he ran a marathon which isn’t likely if he came from his room, just down the hall from Toshinori’s own. Seeing how Aizawa was wearing a simple black shirt and sweatpants, combined with how his hair looked crazed enough that a bird would have mistaken it for a nest, Toshinori felt confident in his assessment.

“...Aizawa?” Toshinori asked hesitantly. His heart was still jack rabbiting in his chest, the fear of something awful happening hadn’t entirely faded. “What are you doing here?”

“Yagi.” 

His eyebrows flew upwards. Aizawa hadn’t so much as said his name but croaked it out. His voice sounded like he had gargled nails before knocking on his door.

Aizawa sucked in a deep breath. “Yagi,” he tried again, only sounding slightly better. “I-I need to…”

Toshinori winced when Aizawa’s voice audibly broke mid word. Aizawa growled in frustration and tried once more, clearing his throat but that only caused him to cough and before they both knew it Aizawa was falling over from the force of his hacking. It was only because Toshinori was quick enough to catch him that stopped the other from meeting the ground.

Toshinori grunted at the weight slanted against him. It was a bitter reminder of how weak he’d become within the last few years but he stubbornly held them both up. Grunting from exertion, he said, “Hold on, don’t talk — let’s get you to the couch first.” Together they walked the few steps to Toshinori’s couch, taking longer than necessary because Aizawa looked like he was about to collapse if they went too fast.

Once he had him situated on the couch, Toshinori hurried to grab a cup of water and race back to Aizawa. Aizawa held the glass in one hand but Toshinori held his own hand over the cup when the water started shaking dangerously in Aizawa’s grasp.

“Drink,” Toshinori ordered, nudging the cup upwards.

“Yag—”

“Drink.”

Aizawa quieted and brought the cup to his lips, downing half the glass in seconds and gasping quietly for air once he finished drinking. He winced, hand rubbing across his throat in an attempt to soothe it.

Toshinori studied the action. “Sore?”

Aizawa nodded, grimacing. Toshinori started to get up, intending to make some tea to help, but a hand grabbed at him weakly, pulling him back down. “Aizawa?”

“Explain,” Aizawa croaked, “Let me explain.”

He frowned. “You can explain later.” He said and gently pushed the hand off. “You can’t even talk without your voice giving out, Aizawa. Just sit there and relax for a few minutes.”

Aizawa couldn’t say anything back, whether it was in agreement with what Toshinori said or he literally couldn't voice any rebuttal, he didn’t know, but Aizawa did let him leave the couch this time. Toshinori busied himself with pretending to be busy in the kitchen while he waited for the water to boil, anything to get out of looking at the other man while he waited for the kettle to finish heating.

He tried to make sense of the last few minutes, from going from dead asleep to being scared awake and opening his door to Aizawa hanging off the doorframe looking like death warmed over.

Sick. Aizawa was sick.

And, for some inexplicable reason, banging on Toshinori’s door in the middle of the night.

Well, Toshinori mused wryly, at least that explained why Aizawa didn’t show up to their date. But he found that bitterness still soured within him when he remembered how he’d waited and messaged, practically begging the other man to answer. It didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t going to kick Aizawa out when the man was obviously sick and needed someone to watch over him, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself and pretend he wasn’t still hurt over earlier.

When the kettle was finished warming up, he poured it into a mug and added honey with some lemon. It’d help Aizawa’s throat, which is exactly what he told him when he gave him the cup. 

Aizawa stared into the mug, nodding slowly, and took a small sip. A violent shiver ran through his body and Toshinori had to stop his sympathetic wince from how painful the reaction looked. It seemed like an oversight on his own part for not seeing it sooner and he scurried off to fetch the blankets from his room. He returned with a handful of thick blankets—his body ran cold and warm blankets was essential—and covered Aizawa in them. Aizawa didn’t even protest like Toshinori expected, only sighed, his red nose buried into the blanket wrapped around his neck not unlike his capture scarf, and sunk further into the couch. He looked like he almost blended in with the furniture, if Toshinori regularly left a giant lump of blanket on his couch.

Toshinori pursed his lips and when that didn’t work, he turned his head to look in any other direction. He was battling with himself. Torn between acknowledging how natural Aziawa looked, wrapped up in his blankets and sitting on his couch. It was everything he’d ever wanted, to see the other so relaxed in his presence. The other part of him was at war with himself. Didn’t like how it seemed so easy to slip into acting as if nothing had happened. One thing he could admit to himself was that Aizawa did look funny, wrapped in some kind of thermal cocoon, and that lightened him up somewhat.

“Yagi.”

Toshinori blinked back to himself, and turned to look at Aizawa, who looked minimally better than before. Not as red as when he’d shown up. His voice a bit stronger.

He pasted on a tight smile. “Aizawa.”

“You deserve an explanation.”

Toshinori took a deep breath. “I do.”

A beat passed before Aizawa finally filled it with a heavy, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“That’s not an explanation.” He countered pointedly, unable to completely hide the pettiness in his voice. He couldn’t make this completely easy now could he.

“It’s not.” Aizawa agreed. “I needed to say that first though, before I say anything else. Please look at me, Yagi. I don't think I can do this if you won’t look at me.”

Toshinori opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized he'd closed them. Aizawa’s own eyes were a touch too glassy with sickness but it didn’t dampen the sincerity he saw in them.

“I’m sorry.” Aizawa repeated, a bit brokenly and oh, did it tug on Toshinori’s heart.

“I believe you.” He did. Never had he seen such naked honesty in his face. In fact it was quite odd to see anything but the deadened glares he was used to seeing everyday from him. “Now, tell me what happened. Why’d you stand me up?”

Aizawa winced, shame written plainly on his face which made Toshinori feel a tiny bit better to know he felt bad. When he talked it sounded nasally, through a stuffy nose. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t plan on it. I… I’m sick.”

“Obviously. I meant why didn’t you say something to me.”

Aizawa swallowed at his dry reply but continued, “I think I got it from Eri. She was sick last week and it finally hit me and I’ve been trying to push through it and pretend I was fine but clearly that didn’t work.” He shook his head. “When I went to help Eri with training earlier, I couldn’t even get through ten minutes before wanting to pass out. And I did — pass out, that is. Mirio took Eri and I collapsed in my bed. I was so exhausted that I don’t think I would’ve heard the school alarm if it had gone off, it was that bad. I didn’t wake up until twenty minutes ago and when I saw how dark it was outside I immediately knew I slept through our date and came racing here, because… because I needed to see you.”

Toshinori sighed, rubbing his forehead. It did next to nothing to stave off the pounding inside his head. “Why didn’t you just admit you weren't feeling well? I was okay to reschedule for another night — I told you this back on the training grounds.”

Aizawa seemed to think the floor was more interesting at the moment.

“I had already told you I was committed to going. I didn’t want to go back on it and… and miss seeing the cats.”

Something in Toshinori cracked a little at the last part but he forced himself to ignore it. So what if Aizawa cared more about cats than him? That was a given. He was sure Aizawa would trade his students for a cat without question.

“The cats weren’t going anywhere,” He said, trying to sound light and feeling anything but. He needed to sound as unaffected as possible otherwise his voice would break and wouldn't that be embarrassing. “They would’ve been there next week.”

“But would you have been?”

His brows furrowed in confusion, not understanding the question. “If we planned to meet there, then yes.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’m confused as to what other meaning you could’ve meant.”

Aizawa lifted his head so Toshinori could see him rolling his eyes and sighing, looking more like his usual self. “What if you didn’t want to go out with me next week?”

Toshinori couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief and shot him an incredulous look. “I quite literally said I was open and available to do that, I don’t know where you’re getting—”

He visibly startled when he felt a hand grasp his own, his eyes falling downwards to watch as a thumb almost painfully swiped across the back of his own. He liked it. He hated how much he liked it. He liked how his much larger hand was nicely cradled in Aizawa’s warmth and the ensuing motions of fingers felt pleasant. He glanced up and was taken aback by the desperation broadcasted plainly on Aizawa’s face.

“You say that but how was I supposed to know you meant it?” Aizawa’s voice cracked. He looked at Toshinori pleadingly, and Toshinori, frozen, could only listen “What if you were only saying you’d go out with me on a different day and it was only a flimsy excuse to get out of it? That you took one look at me, disgustingly sick and unable to take care of myself, that you decided I wasn’t worth it.”

Toshinori was already furiously shaking his head before he finished talking. “Aizawa—”

“Yagi,” Aizawa breathed out, the red splotches on his cheeks even more pronounced than before and he coughed harshly into his arm. “Don’t interrupt me, please. I’m sick and half delirious and honestly I might be two seconds away from passing out on your floor.” 

Toshinori straightened, alarmed at his words, but Aizawa squeezed his hand, halting any further movement from him.

“I probably wouldn’t be saying this if I weren’t sick so let me embarrass myself now. And if you’re still pissed at me, that’s fine. You’d be right to be. I’ll leave you alone.” He took a deep breath. “I was really looking forward to our date. Not just for some silly cats. I was… really happy when you asked me out. I almost thought it was a joke—or that Hizashi put you up to it somehow. God knows how much he’s sick of me pining after you everyday.”

Toshinori sucked in a breath at the admission said so casually but Aizawa wasn't finished.

“But it seemed like you were genuine. You actually wanted to go out with me—for some reason that I can’t understand. I’ve been told I’d remain a lonely spinster with only cats as company for the rest of my days,” he cracked a wry smile. “And I didn’t want you to take it back. I had everything ready for tonight. Work put off for the next day. Sending Eri with Mirio for the night. It was just going to be us.” Aizawa’s smile turned bitter. “Then I started not feeling well, and I thought I could push through it, pretend it would pass but…”

Aizawa shrugged, looking down into his tea so intensely it looked like he wanted to drown in it. He brought it to his mouth once more and took a sip. After, he sighed heavily, as if knowing he was fighting a losing battle and bracing himself for the gallows. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Yagi. I wanted to, more than anything. When I woke up now I nearly twisted my ankle scrambling to get to you. I-I just wanted you to know. How much I liked you. And wanted to go on our date.”

Toshinori was quiet, contemplating. He stared over Aizawa’s shoulder, looking in the direction of the wall but unseeing.

He didn’t know how to feel.

“I understand.” Toshinori uttered at last. Aizawa’s small look of relief fell at his next words, “But it still hurt me. Do you know how destroying it felt? To sit there waiting for you, watching the entrance every second only to be disappointed when it was someone else walking through and not you. Every message I sent went unanswered and left me wondering what I did that made you change your mind about me.”

Aizawa slumped forwards, looking impossibly small in his cocoon of blankets. He gazed up at Toshinori with a wet sheen in his eyes. “I know, I know. I am so sor—”

He couldn’t bear to hear another apology. He raised a hand, waiting until Aizawa fell silent to explain, “Which is why you’re going to have to work hard to make it up to me.”

“...what?”

Toshinori’s mouth twitched upwards. Aizawa looked so lost, so young. It was all he could do to not reach a hand over and pat him on the head.

“As soon as you’re better we’re going back to that cafe for a proper date. Where we’ll both be there and have disgusting sugary drinks. You’ll meet Boba and play with him and the other cats while I’ll take as many pictures as I please. Is that something you’d be amenable to?”

It took a moment for Aizawa to find the words. “Am I—am I amenable? Of course, absolutely.” Aizawa said immediately, still looking shocked and Toshinori was sure Aizawa would agree to anything he'd say right now. What kind of man would he be if he didn't take advantage of that? “Whatever you want.”

“Good because I wasn’t finished.” Toshinori grinned wickedly. “I want to go out on a walk with you after we’ve finished with the cats. In the park, preferably, but I’m not against a stroll through the city. You’ll have to hold my hand the whole time, or at least let me wrap my arm around yours. I won’t budge on that.”

A soundless laugh escaped Aizawa.  “I can accept those terms.”

He still wasn’t done. 

“And you have to listen to all my corny jokes with no complaints.”

“Do I have to laugh at them?”

Toshinori narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you to, no, but since you asked, yes, now you have to.”

“I’ll laugh at one joke.” Aizawa conceded.

“Five.”

“Five?! How many jokes are you planning to torture me with? Two.”

“It’s not torture if you laugh at them.’

“I only laugh at things I find funny.”

“Are you saying you didn’t agree to go out with me because of my amazingly witty jokes?”

Aizawa smirked from above his drink, refusing to confirm or deny outwardly — which pretty much confirmed in his eyes. Toshinori put on an outraged look.

He sighed despondently and waved a hand in the air flippantly, conceding, “Fine, I accept your offer of two jokes. But they better sound genuine. I won’t accept anything fake.”

“I’ll try my best.” Aizawa promised wryly.
   
“There is one more thing I’d like to request.” Toshinori added hesitantly, after a brief pause. Aizawa cocked his head at him, letting him know he was listening. Toshinori flashed a smile. “I’d like to call you by your first name.”

It wasn’t too encouraging when Aizawa responded to his request by blinking mutely at him but at least it wasn’t an outright rejection. Toshinori could deal with this. 

Then, Aizawa made an abrupt loud sputtering sound. At first he thought the other man was choking and became alarmed, ready to jump up and start hitting Aizawa’s back, but after a second he realized it was a strangled laugh — one that quickly escalated into a coughing fit.

“Aizawa!” Toshinori hurriedly snatched the mug falling out of his hands before it could spill and burn him. He placed it gently on the floor beside the couch and returned his attention back to the man attempting to hack out his lung in front of him. “Are you alright?”

He knew from experience coughing as much as Aizawa was right now wasn’t fun. His many stained bloody handkerchiefs can attest to that. And Aizawa just had to laugh and make himself sick over it. Honestly, what about his question was so funny?

Aizawa had, for the most part, gotten himself put together aside from weak coughs breaking through and the occasional chuckle sneaking past. Himself, on the other hand, was not amused.

“I hope it was worth it.” Toshinori scolded, his hands fluttering nervously in front of him. “If the answer was no, that’s all you had to say. I don’t know what was so humorous about—” He stopped himself when Aizawa shook his head.

“Trust me, I was not laughing because I was going to say no.” He said amusedly. “I was laughing because of course you can. In fact I want you to. It seems silly you haven't already. It's long overdue, don't you think?”

It was a bit absurd they hadn’t used each other’s given names before, but not break a lung laughing over it in Toshinori’s opinion. Although Aizawa was sick, who knew what was going on in his head.

“I suppose,” Toshinori agreed slowly, unable to stop himself from mirroring Aizawa’s humor. “And you can call me Toshinori, Shouta.”

Aiz— Shouta jumped as if struck by lightning, sitting up abruptly on the couch. He looked at Toshinori surprised while he himself was confused by such a strong reaction.

“Shouta?” Toshinori prompted, saying his name again—in part for an answer but also because he quite enjoyed saying the name. It felt intimate and rolled off his tongue quite nicely. Shouta. Shouta, his grouchy sick person. What a pair they made.

“It's nothing just...” Shouta gazed at Toshinori, something soft in his expression. “I like you saying my name is all. I didn’t expect it. It fits.”

“It fits, hm?”

“It makes me wonder…” Shouta trailed off, the beginnings of a smirk appearing on his face.

Toshinori raised an eyebrow, “Are you planning on keeping me in suspense for long?”

The other man shrugged. He leaned back into the couch, looking more like a lounging cat intent on causing mischief. “Oh nothing, just wondering what it would sound like. You saying my name. In an entirely different context.” The meaning wasn’t lost on Toshinori.

He felt his face warm and he half heartedly swatted at Shouta’s arm. “Shouta! You can’t just say that!”

“Already giving me an idea on what it’d sound like. Hm.” Shouta purred out, sounding outrageously attractive that in that moment it almost made Toshinori upset — mostly because he couldn’t do anything about it right then.  “I wonder how high you can go.”

Toshinori hit him again for no other reason but because if he didn’t he’d do something insane like pull him closer and right now was not the time to indulge his fantasies.

“Yagi!” Shouta exclaimed, scandalized. His eyes lit up and Toshinori fell a bit harder for him.  “You’d really hit a sick person? Call the papers. Let the media know All Might enjoys abusing the sick.”

“If you’re well enough to tease me and joke then you’re well enough to take a hit.” Toshnori said dryly. “And how come it’s still Yagi? I did say you could call me Toshinori, you know.”

Shouta paused, head tilted slightly to the side in thought. He looked as if he'd forgotten he’d been given the same permission.

“Toshinori.” Shouta breathed, the word said like a caress, softly and carefully. As if he was afraid Toshinori himself would break if he said it any other way. Toshinori shivered, goosebumps rising,  and immediately flushed, wondering if he was already catching Shouta's illness.

“Okay, I get it now. I see the appeal.” He nodded to himself.

“Toshinori, you’re going to have to stop looking at me like that.” Shouta warned. He watched, entranced, as Shouta's eyes darkened in response to whatever he saw on his own face.

Toshinori, unaware of the danger before him, breathed out, “And why’s that?”

“Because I’m very sick right now and my self control is very frayed. I don’t think you want to catch it next.”

“I don’t mind a little cold.” Toshinori said unbothered, the reply falling from his mouth before he had time to process what exactly he was agreeing to. “I think it’d be worth it in this case.”

A throaty sound echoed—a growl, Toshinori’s mind supplied hazily—and a split second later he felt himself pushed back against the couch and a weight settled over his lap. He automatically reached to place his hands at Shouta’s waist in a steadying gesture but that was all he had enough time to do before his head was being tilted up where chapped soft lips descended on his.

Oh.

Shouta took the lead easily, leading Toshinori in their kiss as expertly as he does in their class training sessions. It was natural for him to exhale softly, momentarily overwhelmed with how right it felt. To have Shouta on top of him, his own hands on him, and Shouta’s mouth on his, drinking his full. Toshinori whimpered when Shouta took the opportunity to slip his tongue past, an unyielding force that had him curling his fingers deeper into the thin fabric, not caring about the bruises that were sure to be left behind. Shouta, in response, slid his hands from Toshinori’s face to hair, carding his fingers through, before pulling.

Oh.

How was there a time where he thought of letting Shouta go? How could he have thought staying coworkers was preferable over this. It was outrageous. He was an idiot, he decided absent mindedly as he continued mapping Shouta’s tongue with his. A small moan escaped Shouta’s mouth and a fiery burning sensation traveled up and down Toshinori’s body in response, seizing him with a need for the other man. It almost scared Toshinori, the all consuming desire, it was almost too overwhelming and not enough, but he felt assured at the same time. Assured that it wasn’t only him feeling this way, going by how Shouta was matching his passion, and it gave him something to hold onto, to ground himself.

His hands had only just grazed the skin underneath Shouta’s shirt when the other man violently turned his face to side to cough wetly, the booming sound startling Toshinori out of the aroused haze blinding him. He was quick to rub Shouta’s back as Shouta let out a groan in pain from the wracking coughs.

“So much for trying to be sexy.” Shouta muttered under his breath, panting heavily. He slumped forwards, tucking his head into Toshinori’s neck and he could feel the heat of a fever radiating off him.

Toshinori continued to rub circles on Shouta’s back, watching with no small amount of fascination as the muscles loosened under his hand. Shouta let out a breath of relief but Toshinori grimaced when he heard how congested the other man sounded. He would definitely be getting sick next, but by now his immune system had built in some defenses for it by this point. Shouta, on the other hand, might need a visit from Recovery Girl if he worsened.

He turned his attention back to the man laying across his chest. “I think you succeeded enough in that department.” He said, referring to his earlier comment. There was no way he’d be forgetting that kiss anytime soon. “But if you think it went so terribly, you can make this up to me again too.”

Shouta snorted. “At this rate I’ll have to make everything up to you.”

“You won’t hear me complaining,” He grinned. “The chance to experience everything with you twice over? Sounds more like a gift to me.”

Shouta made a strangled noise, something between a laugh and a noise of disbelief. 

“I can’t tell if the nausea I’m feeling right now is because I’m sick or because of your shameless ridiculousness.”

“Either way, we should get you to bed.”

“Oh? So soon?” Shouta murmured. “You should buy me dinner first.”

Toshinori couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. “You see, I actually did try that first…” Shouta groaned and curled himself tighter into his chest, hiding away from the truth.

“I hate you.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Shouta didn’t reply, and Toshinori thought for sure he’d fallen asleep so he closed his own eyes. He would allow himself to rest for a few minutes. It was still the middle of the night after all and he felt exhaustion heavy in his bones. He’d try to get them both to bed after a while, and maybe get Shouta to keep some cough medicine down that he had.

“I don’t.”

The words were said in a quiet voice but he heard them. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Hm?”

“Hate you. I don’t hate you.”

His eyes snapped open and he tried to peer down at Aizawa but the other man stubbornly refused to look back at him. “I didn’t think you did, Shouta, don’t worry.” He tried to reassure.

Shouta hummed. “Good.” He mumbled absently. “Dating you would be hard if you thought I hated you.”

A feeling punctured right through his heart, one so powerful it made his breath catch. He couldn’t place the emotion at first. It was too unfamiliar to pinpoint but after a beat or two a word finally came to mind: love. 

He loved this silly sick man who was telling him he didn’t hate him, as if clinging to him wasn’t a big enough indicator of his feelings. This man who spent most of the time glaring at anyone who looked his way and spent an unhealthy amount of time in a sleeping bag to the point where it almost looked like a second skin. This teacher who would risk it all for any of his students in a heartbeat with a determination to not give up any of them. This underground hero who deserved all the praise and spotlight regular heroes coveted but had no such desire for himself, preferring to comfortably work in the dark. 

Love didn’t come easy to Toshinori, and he had a feeling it was the same for Shouta. Both of them burned too many times in their past. But they had each other now and he made a silent promise to himself not to let this become ruined.

“Toshi?” Shouta whispered tiredly. “You don’t hate me.” It was said as a statement yet there was an unmistakable question at the end of it, a hint of insecurity shining. He believed he was only able to hear the vulnerability underneath because Shouta was on the verge of losing consciousness. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Shouta’s head.

“No,” he confirmed softly, “I don’t hate you. I like you quite a bit actually.”

“Me too.” Shouta slurred out and went quiet, his breathing evening out and letting Toshinori know the man was out cold.

Toshinori stared up at the ceiling, contemplating. I love you, he mouthed the words in the air, unwilling to voice the thought out loud just yet. It was far too early to admit it, their relationship too new, so he’d keep his secret between himself and the four walls of his room. There would be a time, much further down the road, to tell Shouta. 

For now, he held the other man closer and relaxed, letting his eyes close and catch up on some very much needed sleep.