Work Text:
Hitoshi knows how he feels.
He knows the bond he has with Aizawa has helped this crush fester into love that he can’t admit. He knows even six years after graduating that he can’t mention it when he works with the man, when he crashes on the man’s couch, or when he comes to UA as one of the heroes helping with their challenges.
He’s demi-sexual and demi-romantic, and he knows that everyone knows, including Aizawa. He told them all two years ago at a UA get together just so they’d stop asking him about dating and shit.
He’d left the building after his outburst, making his way into the alley beside the building to catch his breath. The silence around him after his outburst, his coming out, was deafening and weighted in the most uncomfortable way possible.
It made his skin crawl.
The only one to come after him, to his surprise, was Shota Aizawa.
He’d spent the rest of the night with Shota at a diner down the road, ignoring all the phone calls and text messages from everyone at the UA get together until late the next day.
But now… Now, he’s staring jaw-slacked at a girl whose quirk pulled that confession right out of him.
“I’m- I’m so sorry! Sensei, Mindjack, I- I didn’t mean-" She’s stuttering, fear in her voice as she looks back to Aizawa and forward to Hitoshi again. She’s got tears in her eyes, distress pouring off her in waves, and Hitoshi has to force the anger back.
Hitoshi takes a deep breath and says, “It’s okay. You didn’t mean to, and I know that. I’m going to go, but I’ll come back once the effects are gone. We’ll talk then, Aster.”
He turns and leaves the room calmly before sprinting down the hall to a stairwell he knows leads to the roof. He needs to get out of here, needs to hide somewhere Shota won’t look because he’ll come after Hitoshi about his words.
The girl had a truth quirk that connects to desires. When the object of your desires is in view, all your thoughts leave your tongue draped in sincerity, and you can’t lie if they’re looking you in the eye.
It was one question, “How do you feel about our Sensei outside of work?”
They’d all been curious as to how Aizawa worked when he wasn’t being a teacher or a hero, what movies did he watch, what radio station did he listen to, did actually eat more than those jelly packets, curious things. They were things Hitoshi had wondered himself until he got to know them, and he had answered some, here and there, but then he’d made the mistake of picking up Aster’s pen at the same time she did, their fingers barely grazing, and the question was asked.
“How do you feel about our Sensei outside of work?”
Hitoshi hadn’t noticed the quirk buzzing through him as his eyes met Aizawa’s, and he’d said, “I’m in love with him.”
That wasn’t even relevant to the question, not the real question, but somehow, he’d missed the “outside of work” part.
Hitoshi swings off UA campus, swings with the capture weapon until he reaches some even roofs, then he runs until his lungs hurt. Finally, he reaches Izuku’s apartment building.
He’s not gonna be able to stay for long, not when Izuku, Eijirou, Shouto, and Katsuki all know about his feelings for Aizawa. Not when they’ve all told him multiple times to just go for it. But he’ll be able to stay long enough for Neito to get home and house him at his place.
Aizawa won’t go near Neito with a ten-foot-pole if he can avoid it.
He heads straight to the stairwell and down, down, down at least six flights of stairs before he reaches their floor. He hopes to god it’s Izuku or Eijirou at home because otherwise Shouto and Katsuki are going to kick him out within twenty minutes of getting the answer to why he’s there.
He knocks on the door harshly, still panicking, and a loud sigh of relief leaves him when green curls and green eyes stare back at him.
“Thank fuck. Please hide me until Neito gets off.” says Hitoshi seriously.
“Not a fucking chance!” calls a far too familiar voice.
“You seriously ran from him, Hitoshi?” that one’s low and full of disbelief.
“You can crash for a bit, but if he comes while you’re here, we won’t let you run because it’s not manly.” He sounds more disappointed than normal.
“They made the rules after Sensei messaged us. Sorry, but you’re not getting out of this easily. We’re going to tell him where you went if you’re gone by the time he comes too.” says Izuku with a wince as he opens the door wider to let Hitoshi in, guilt written all over his face.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter since he won’t be here before Neito is off work.” huffs Hitoshi as he tugs his phone out and texts Neito “9-1-1 A” while he walks in and plops on the floor just in front of the stack of shoes, keeping his shoe-covered feet on the tile entrance. “I don’t wanna talk about it, since he apparently decided to use my friends against me over this, but I am definitely not talking to him about it if I can manage to avoid it. Fuckin’ hate dealing with rejections.”
“He’s not gonna fuckin’ reject you, dumbass!”
Katsuki must be in the kitchen making food or something because there’s a mouth-watering scent floating through the air and the sound of hissing that’s following his voice into the living room/dining room combo space.
“Honestly, you need to stop running from him. I told you forever ago to tell him how you felt. Everyone knows it’s reciprocated.” huffs Shouto from his spot on the couch where he’s got Eijirou’s head in his lap.
“Sho and Kats are right, Hitoshi, this isn’t manly… the whole running thing. I get that you’re scared, but we’ve talked about this. He cares, he’s protective of you, and he cares. Come on, just hear him out.” offers Eijirou softly, as Shouto runs his hands through his hair softly while Izuku comes over to sit under his legs.
“Look, I just think it’s better for me to avoid it when I know it’s literally more impossible than me getting another out of country undercover mission this year.” replies Hitoshi as he stares hard at his phone, waiting for those three dots to appear, for a friggin’ response from his idiot blonde friend.
“You’re not going anywhere except for with me somewhere to talk.”
Hitoshi’s entire body freezes, eyes going wide as he sees those dots appear too late. Then defeat sags through him, eyes closing as he clicks the button on the side of his phone to lock it. He looks up to see Shota Aizawa crouching in front of him with red cheeks and determined dark eyes that are locked on him.
“You didn’t have to follow me to take me somewhere private for a rejection. You could’ve just texted me, or something.” sighs Hitoshi defeatedly because he genuinely doesn’t see any other outcome.
This is embarrassing as fuck.
“You better knock that shit off.” snaps Katsuki loudly, baring his teeth in his annoyance as he comes out of the kitchen.
“I got it from here, problem children.” says Shota seriously, but his eyes don’t stray as they narrow on Hitoshi. He watches as they all disappear like this isn’t their apartment, and his purple eyes meet Shota’s again to find what looks like a challenge in those dark eyes. “I taught you better than to make baseless assumptions, Hitoshi, so why don’t you try again? Why am I here telling you that I want to talk somewhere more private after what you said in my classroom earlier?”
Hitoshi glares at him, irritated by the call-out and feeling like he’s back to being an inexperienced kid learning how to be a hero from his favorite hero again. “Fuck you, that was unnecessary.”
“Then answer my questions, prove me wrong by taking back your bullshit response and actually using your head.” replies Shota pointedly as he arches a brow, lips pressing together in a thin line, but amusement is coloring his face.
“Okay, fine, you want me to do this? Fine. Logically, there’s no basis to a rejection assumption, but there’s also no basis to a requited feelings assumption either. Your reactions, words and physical actions, can be construed in far too many ways to actually make an assumption based around them.” Hitoshi’s words are laced with anger and frustration as he gives Shota exactly what he wants while still staying as vague as possible. His heart is aching, his fingers digging into his thighs, but his eyes stay ahead despite the nerves and fear. He keeps looking the man he loves, his mentor and old teacher, Shota Eraserhead Aizawa, in the eye. “That you came after me could be for a few reasons, only one includes acceptance and/or rejection. The others can easily be viewed as telling me more about the quirk, needing a statement for quirk use because it was used, or any other variant relating back to quirk usage in your classroom and your inability to not give a shit because you taught me personally.”
His chest is heaving by the time he’s done, and he genuinely feels out of breath from speaking so much into their shared space as he just did. But he also physically deflates back against the wall after it’s all out in the air, going almost boneless as he stares into dark eyes that shine with approval and satisfaction.
“Now that you know all of that, let me give you another piece before you get up and we go somewhere actually private where the problem children aren’t listening in around the corner.” replies Shota with a smirk, rolling his eyes when the others' grumbles are loud enough to be heard. “You’re not getting rejected.”
“That leaves a lot of variables still open.” murmurs Hitoshi as his brain tries to process the hope suddenly barreling through him as those words hit slow and perfect.
“Follow me, and we’ll get to the only one that matters, sweetheart.” replies Shota quietly, voice low and raspy in a way that sends shivers up Hitoshi’s spine.
Hitoshi nods, holding back the whine that comes from that raspy voice and those dark eyes promising so much more than a conversation.
Maybe he was being stupid.
Shota stands, holds out his hand to him, and when Hitoshi takes it, he’s hauled up harshly enough to have to brace his other hand on Shota’s chest. He might slightly tower over the older man, but he’s weak in the knees as Shota wraps his other arm around his waist and leans u to brush their noses together.
“You’re mine, Hitoshi Shinsou.” murmurs Shota sweetly before pulling away to tug Hitoshi towards the balcony.
Hitoshi goes willingly, feeling arousal pour through him as Shota leads them off the balcony, capture weapon wrapped around them as they go. Once they land safely on the ground, he tugs the capture weapon back, and Hitoshi is led to a taxi that is running but waiting.
Shota holds the door open for him, and that’s it. They get in, Shota’s hand warming the inside of his thigh, and he knows without a doubt that he will give himself to this man despite never giving himself to anyone else he was with. He’s too connected to this older man, and his arousal is pouring through him dangerously right now.
When the car stops moving, Hitoshi takes a deep breath, glad that he’d managed to wrangle himself back from an edge he wasn’t ready to fall off of. Shota pushes a small wad of bills through the little window and climbs out, tugging him with him.
“When we get up to my apartment, we’re going to have a conversation, dinner, and then you’re going to stay over.” says Shota as the Taxi leaves the curb, and Hitoshi’s eyes widen at the prospect of staying over with Shota after discussing their feelings. “If you’re up for it, I’d like to share a bed. I’d also like to be the little spoon if you’re up for cuddling and holding me all night, but either way I’ll make breakfast. Then we can discuss a real date because yes, Hitoshi, these feelings are more than reciprocated.”
“We- you- I- Yes- I can’t- Just- Yes.” Hitoshi stutters over his words, attempting to say so much more because he feels all fluttery and hopeful and happy, but he can’t so he settles for a single word of confirmation.
Shota smiles softly at him and leads him into his apartment building.