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Aizawa Shouta hated commute. It was true ever since he first started taking the train to get to his middle school. The crowds getting into his personal space, all the noise. By the time high school rolled around, he gave up half an hour of precious sleep to take an earlier train. Sure, he had to sit longer at school before classes started but it was worth the peace of mind and being able to sit down for the whole 40 minutes of the commute.
He kept it up until college, until the third week when he was already swamped with so many assignments and essays he decided he'd rather have a couple more minutes in the warmth of his bed and was willing to survive all the nosiness of morning rush hour.
Deeply regretting his decision, he readjusted his laptop bag for the tenth time within the last fifteen minutes. He raised his head to the screen with expected arrival time and cursed in his mind. It was crowded, noisy and he was running on two hours of sleep and a big mug of coffee. He wasn't regretting choosing so many electives but it was definitely unhealthy in the long run and he was self-aware enough to admit that.
He lowered his gaze, ready to focus on his shoes again, when he caught a glimpse of blonde hair. He turned his head and set his eyes on probably the only person in the carriage who didn't seem like they wanted to die.
The man had long blond hair in a high ponytail, bright red waistcoat over deep blue button up and big red headphones. The music he was listening to must have been something upbeat, if the way he was enthusiastically bobbing his head was any indication. But what really drew Shouta in was the man's eyes.
Hidden behind corral frames was a pair of the most gorgeous green eyes Shouta had ever witnessed. He was staring, he knew he was, but he couldn't force himself to look away.
Until, that was, the man looked in his direction and quirked his eyebrow questioningly. Shouta quickly looked down at his shoes, cheeks burning in shame.
He didn't raise his head till the end of the trip and when his stop arrived, he departed the train as fast as possible and ran speed walked towards his lecture hall.
He found himself on the same train three days later. This time he was slightly more aware, as he managed to get a whole five hours of sleep and napped between the assignments but waking up still proved to be difficult enough that he missed the earlier train and took the 6:55 one. When he entered the carriage, he spotted a splash of blond hair in the corner. This time, the guy was wearing his hair in a low bun, with the same red headphones, and had a dark jacket over a V-neck. Shouta allowed his eyes to wander for a brief moment and noticed that the shirt was hugging the man tight enough it revealed a truly sinful physique.
He quickly averted his gaze. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of being a pervert. Definitely wouldn't help his teaching license.
The next day, Shouta found himself entering the 6:55 train again. He couldn't even explain to himself why he would do that. It was still crowded, it was still noisy and there was no benefit to riding later.
Aside from catching the sight of the gorgeous blond man, that is.
Don't get Shouta wrong. He knew he was gay, he found men attractive but he'd never before wanted a stranger to pin him against a wall and have his way with him. Until now. He was so attracted to the mysterious man (can he even call him that? He seemed to be Shouta's age, which would put him under 20 and Shouta definitely didn't feel mature enough to be called ‘man’), it seemed all his logic flew out of the window. It came to head a couple weeks after that first… meeting? if it can be called that, when Shouta woke up in the middle of his nap in-between essays with a tent in his sweatpants.
A dream. A fucking wet dream about some guy whose name he didn't even know. He quickly put his hand in his boxers to relieve the ache, imagining those green eyes staring at him.
It was probably the hardest he'd ever come in his life.
Immediately, he stood up and took a cold shower, both to wash away any lingering arousal and his own burning shame at jerking off to the thought of a man who didn't even know Shouta exists. It just felt wrong and inappropriate.
And so it continued until the summer. When the summer break rolled around and found himself restless during hot August days. He tried to busy himself with reading from the upcoming syllabus, making notes and doing additional research but his mind kept wandering to those green eyes and frankly unfair abs he once spotted when the guy wore a crop top. He felt absolutely ridiculous and he couldn't even tell his friends about it. He was sure Nemuri and Oboro would just tease him endlessly, or worse, try to convince him to hit on the guy. Which, honestly, he considered himself but first, how do you do that and second, his self-consciousness was absolutely winning. He had nothing to offer - he wasn't attractive, his sense of humour left much to be desired and he wouldn't even be that good of a laid with his lack of experience. Or worst case scenario, the guy was straight and would take offense to Shouta's advances.
So here he was, pining after a man he knew absolutely nothing about.
The second term arrived agonisingly slow and Shouta was finally entering the 6:55 train once again. To his dismay, there was no blond hair or red headphones in sight. Did the guy change trains? Was he in a different carriage? Whatever the reason, Shouta felt inexplicably empty and he couldn't help the disappointment bubbling in his chest. He didn't see the man in the next couple of days either but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it'd put an end to Shouta's ridiculous predicament and he'd be able to focus on something else, like getting his shit together.
Deciding to test his luck one last time before returning to his original schedule and taking an earlier train, Shouta took the 6:55 one on Friday.
Big mistake.
He was so sleepy from late studying, he let the crowd push him inside and fell into someone. When he raised his head to apologise, all words died on his tongue when he was met with brilliant green eyes - were they peridot? - and a wide smile.
“Well, hello there,” murmured the object of his desire the pretty stranger who put his hand on Shouta's hip to stabilise him. “Missed seeing you.”
Shouta's throat was as dry as a desert. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, unable to tear his gaze away from the man's eyes. Up close, he noticed that they had mesmerising circles around the pupils and Shouta felt hypnotised. The stranger offered him a grin.
“Yamada Hizashi,” he introduced himself.
Stunned, not knowing what the fuck is happening, Shouta mumbled his name in return. He was acutely aware that the slender fingers on his hip still hadn't let go.
“I'm glad we finally met,” the blond whispered. Shouta nodded dumbly.
Nobody ever said he'd got a game.
They stayed like this for the remainder of the trip, staring into each other’s eyes, Yamada offering him a soft smile. When Shouta's stop finally arrived, he regretfully moved away from the warmth of Yamada’s body and…
Was shocked when the man left the train with him. He shot him a questioning glance.
“I study here too!” Yamada explained with a laugh. “I tried to catch you every day but you always left too quickly.”
“Why,” Shouta's dumb mouth betrayed him. But he wanted to know, needed to know. It didn't seem like Yamada was mad about that first time when he caught Shouta staring.
The man looked at him confused. “To meet the mysterious hottie, of course!”
Well, his cheeks were positively burning. He'd been called many things in his life but hottie was never once it. Sure, he made sure to look presentable and his clothes were always put together but with his ever-present stubble, tired gaze and hair he couldn't tame to save his life, it was probably the last word that would come to anyone's mind when looking at him.
They walked towards the University, Yamada filling the silence happily and Shouta felt drawn to him like a moth to the flame. He didn't know what it was but he decided then and there that he'd gladly listen to him for the rest of his life.
He was so focused on the blond walking next to him, he didn't notice they were standing in front of his English classroom. “That's me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Green eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really?! No way, me too!”
Turns out Yamada, despite being in some sound-related major, chose Friday 8 am English as his elective this term. They sat at the end of the classroom, the man not leaving Shouta for a moment.
Not that he wanted him to.
On Monday, after entering the train, he was met with a large cup of coffee shoved right in his face, which combined with his sleep deprivation and Yamada’s sweet smile turned out to be lethal to his dignity and blush covered his face.
They walked towards the University together as if it were something normal for them. Despite knowing the man for so short, Shouta was slowly learning that not only was he attractive but also unfairly brilliant, ambitious and hilarious, having Shouta in stitches with his ridiculously dumb puns. Something about Yamada was compelling him to be more open too, and he actually participated in the conversation, talking about his major, cats and why he decided to take the 6:55 train in the first place despite all the noise that came with it.
Two days later, Yamada handed him a set of plugs that were supposed to cancel out the background noises but not conversations and Shouta knew then that he was in love.
Their early mornings together continued and on Thursday three weeks later, Shouta found Yamada waiting for him after the last class.
“Yamada?”
“Ah! Aizawa, I thought maybe…”
“Shouta.”
Yamada’s mouth shut with a click. “Huh?”
“You can call me Shouta,” he repeated nervously. Was he being too forward?
The warm smile he received in return melted away his worries.
“Hizashi, then,” the blond offered. “I was thinking maybe you want to visit the cat café before we go home?”
Shouta wanted to so very much.
They visited a nearby café and the next three hours were filled with conversation, laughter and accidental brushes of their fingers that left both men blushing. When they finally went towards the station, Shouta felt on cloud nine.
“So, Shouta,” Hizashi started hesitantly as they stood under the tree outside of the station. “I really, really like you, and I think you like me…”
“I do,” Shouta was quick to reassure him, not letting the doubt settle for the blond. His heart was pounding.
Hizashi smiled at him intimately. “I'd like to kiss you.”
“I'd like that,” Shouta whispered, unable to tear his gaze from those peridot eyes, filled with affection and dare he say, love? He figured he doesn't have to look away and could only hope his own eyes showed all the adoration for the man in front of him as well.
Hizashi's smile widened and as their lips met, fitting so perfectly as if made for each other, Shouta decided that he liked taking the later train after all.
10 years later
Shouta left the school after finishing up the paperwork and was met with the brilliant smile of his husband that hadn't dulled at all during all those years they'd known each other. Hizashi took his hand gently and laced their fingers together, as he did every day ever since that first kiss. They walked to the station chatting quietly, talking about their days. When they entered the train, they sat down for their 50 minute commute and Shouta let his head fall on Hizashi's shoulder, the blond’s voice calming him down after a whole day of dealing with children.
And maybe, just maybe, Aizawa Shouta didn't hate commute after all.