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Chapter Text

Shota’s POV

Ten minutes before the morning bell, Shota slumps backward in his seat, reading the same page of his book for the third time over because the circle of students on the other side of the classroom keeps dragging his attention away from the words on the page. 

“HA! YEAH WHATEVER MAN, I GOT YOUR BACK NEXT TIME NO SWEAT!” Hizashi Yamada’s voice dominates the rest, cutting right down into Shota's nerves. He slaps his book shut and shoots a look over to the other boy. 

“Do you mind?” Shota hisses. “You are being inappropriately loud! Can’t you just dial it down in the classroom?” 

Yamada turns towards him, eyebrows raised high above his glasses, a cocky smile split wide across his face. “HARSH! Hey man, put the book down and join us, why don’tcha? We’re talking about today’s teamwork exercise.” 

Shota scoffs, “Yeah, no thanks.” His attention drops to his desk, fingering the bent edge on the cover of his paperback. He glances sheepishly back at Yamada through shaggy bangs but the other boy has already turned back towards the group of students in front of him. 

Shota doesn’t like the guy. And he knows it has more to do with himself than just Yamada being obnoxious. He has no desire to be popular. But part of him does envy how easily his classmate seemed to have made friends just a few weeks into the school year. He watches the other boy speak, captivating the small crowd in front of him with animated gestures and a smile that never leaves his face. Even his body language is loud. The bell rings and Yamada thumps into his assigned seat next to him. Shota’s eyes dart to the front of the class before the blonde can meet his gaze. 

Today’s lecture is about teamwork. Shota tries to stay focused, chin resting in his palm staring absentmindedly down at the stack of notes before him. His attention shifts back over to Yamada, who’s scribbling eagerly into his notebook. 

Yamada doesn’t take notes. He doodles, finger drums, foot taps and hums but he does not take notes. At first Shota assumed he didn’t pay attention at all in class because of this. But despite appearing so distracted, the boy always seems to ask relevant questions or has the correct answer when called on. 

Shota leans in curiously to look at his classmate’s notebook and see's that he's doodling. Unable to get a good look at the drawing without appearing nosy, he turns back towards his own notebook. Towards the bottom of the page, Shota sketches out a sloppy picture of the boy next to him, wearing triangular glasses, a tall head of hair and a wide mouth that takes up most of his face. He adds a speech bubble equal in size to the character in all caps, “BLAH BLAH BLAH!” He erases it as quickly as he drew it, embarrassed and unsure why he did it in the first place. 

The bell rings and Yamada shoots up before anyone else, tearing a page from his own notebook and placing it on Shota’s desk before swinging his backpack on and rushing out of the room. Shota watched him leave, wondering if he had just imagined the bashful expression on the other boy’s face.

He picks up the piece of paper and examines a surprisingly detailed sketch of his own face, buried into a book with shiny dark hair hanging just above his eyes. He looks closer and realizes that the cover of the book matches the one he was reading before class. He even sketched the bent edge in the top corner. Beneath the drawing is a note written in English and underlined, “LET’S BE FRIENDS .”

Shota folds the page up into a pocket sized square and sticks it carefully into the front of his backpack before following the rest of his classmates out of the door. 

Chapter Text

Shota’s POV

Two full days have passed since Yamada gave him the drawing and he hasn’t spoken to him since. Shota knows he is mostly to blame for this. He has purposely made himself unavailable during training exercises and he eats lunch on the school roof anyway. Eating alone is better without an audience. 

Squeezing a cold curry packet into his rice bowl, he hears a loud thud coming from the rooftop door. Yamada appears around the corner, bag slung around one shoulder and a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

“Are you avoiding me or something?” He huffs and plops himself down a few feet next to Shota, unwrapping his sandwich and tearing off a third of it in one gargantuan bite. 

“Avoiding you? We’ve never hung out before,” Shota says, startled and annoyed at the unexpected company.

“Yeah, yeah man, I hear ya. But we have every class together and you’ve managed to run out and avoid eye contact every day since I gave you the drawing.” Yamada’s eyebrows knit together as he goes in for another bite

“So what? It’s not like I usually look in your direction. You're just in your head about it all.” Shota tries to say casually but his back is stiff against the brick wall behind him.

Yamada tilts to face him. “In my head? Yeah, sure. But we both know that the first part ain’t true.” He smiles knowingly. Shota's face grows hot. “But it’s okay though. I know I’m an interesting guy. And good looking too!” He laughs through a mouthful of food. 

“Interesting is one way to put it. You’re loud. Everything you do is loud. You’re even loud when you eat,” Shota says and bites into his curry. 

“Ha! But you didn’t say ugly!” Yamada balls up the plastic wrap from his sandwich and chucks it at Shota. “Anyway, sorry if I weirded you out with the drawing the other day. I wasn’t trying to scare you off. Just trying to meet you where you are, quietly, I guess.” The wind picks up and Shota can smell Yamada’s hair product from where he is sitting, vanilla and something earthy. He looks up at the other boy for the first time since he sat down. It’s true, he thinks to himself. Yamada is not ugly. And he is interesting. The glasses he wears are tinted and his blonde hair is styled in a purposefully messy way that stands up at the top but curls around his ears and the nape of his neck. Sitting this close to him, Shota can make out two pin-prick holes in his ear lobes and wonders if Yamada wears earrings outside of school. 

“I saved the drawing. It was good. And for someone accusing me of staring, you definitely got the details down,” Shota mumbles and takes another bite of his food. “How did you find me up here, anyway?”

Yamada straightens and he smiles triumphantly,  “I followed you, duh! I was starting to feel embarrassed about the drawing and had to know what you thought of it.” Shota didn’t think that the boy next to him could ever get embarrassed. He certainly doesn’t show it. “And besides, I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends. I think you’re interesting too.” 

“And handsome?” Shota adds dryly, trying to mimic his classmate’s easy humor. 

Yamada laughs so loudly that Shota feels the vibration in his chest, “YEAH, YEAH, you ain’t bad! In a thrown together sort of way, I guess.” Shota doesn’t know if this is a compliment, or if he should even care. He decides to go with the latter and scoops the remainder of food into his mouth. He checks his phone, lunch period is almost over. He lays the dirty curry packet inside his bento box and closes the lid. 

“Please don’t tell anyone about this spot.” Shota stands up and swings his backpack around both shoulders. “I come here to be alone and if other people start coming up here then we’ll definitely get caught.” He looks down at Yamada and pauses. “But you can eat with me again if you’d like.” 

The blonde smiles brightly. “HELL YEAH! Your secret is safe with me and I mean it!” He holds out his hand for Shota to take and hoists himself up quickly. Together they head for the door and– SHIT! It’s locked. Shota looks up at his new friend. “What did you do with the rock?”

“Oh? This rock?” He pulls the stone from his jacket pocket, holding it up so that the sunlight catches the glitter within the grain. “I found it over there.” He points to a spot several feet away from the locked door. “I kept it ‘cause it was pretty. Must’ve kicked it out from the door without realizing it.” He shrugs and puts it back in his pocket. 

Shota’s fingers find the bridge of his nose. “The door locks from the inside. How the hell are we supposed to get back in?” 

“HUGHH!” Yamada's posture deflates on exhale. He flashes Shota an apologetic grin. “I know I promised to keep this place secret but I have someone we can trust to unlock the door.” He pulls out his phone.

Shota lets out an exasperated sigh and looks up at the sky. “Whatever, it’s not like we have a choice.” He feels a mild ping of jealousy. Not from having to share his new friend because that would just be crazy. But of course Yamada has someone else he can call. 

Yamada pulls the phone from his pocket and taps on a contact from his recent calls list. “HEYYY, KAYAMA!” A cock of the head emphasizing each syllable, “NO, WAIT! DON’T HANG UP!” He breathes in with his whole body and calls again. “Kayama, please help us WE-ARE-LOCKED-AWAY-ON-THE-ROOF!” The words spew from his mouth rapidly before the girl can hang up again. Shota dips his head, the corners of his mouth tug at the inclusion of “we” instead of “I” in Yamada’s plea. Yamada snaps his mouth shut, neck bent towards the sky, he hangs up the phone with a grin spreading across his face. “PHEW! Okay, she’s on her way, I think.”

A few moments later and the door clangs open. A tall girl with spiky black hair and cat-eye glasses leans against the doorframe, creating a barrier between the two boys and the stairwell into the building. Shota recognizes the girl from a grade above them, Nemuri Kayama. She is very popular, and very beautiful. Of course Yamada is friends with her. 

“OH GOD! THANK YOU SO MUCH!” Yamada’s animated gratitude is confronted with a devious smirk crossing the girl’s face. 

“What were you two doing up here all alone? Yamada, you’ll have to share the sticky deets after school.” Her eyes are sinister.

Yamada’s mouth drops open and his posture recoils defensively. “My god, please spare me this once. Anyway, this is Shota Aizawa. I’m trying to become his friend so please don’t tell anyone about this spot. I promised him I’d keep it a secret.” He shoulders past Kayama into the stairwell and the two students follow. 

“Yikes, loosen up, Yamada, I won’t tell anyone. Just let me eat with you guys now and then, yeah? Your friend looks like good company.” Her last sentence comes out like silk and her shoulder brushes his. Shota shutters at the unexpected contact and paces two steps behind the girl. He watches the two friends in front of him, nearly mistaking their banter for arguing. He supposes it’s a bit of both. 

The three reach the bottom of the stairs and Kayama splits off, spitting something about being late and wasting her time, but her eyes are playful as she turns and heads towards her own classroom. The two boys walk into class together and the room seems to follow them. Shota takes his seat and Yamada breaks off to meet with a group of classmates on the other side of the room. Shota pushes his thumbs together awkwardly, wondering if he should’ve followed him. But something heavy falls into his stomach as he recalls Yamada’s staring accusation earlier on the roof. Warmth creeps across his face and he pulls a novel out from his bag, more to keep his hands busy than anything. 

Chapter Text

Hizashi’s POV

Hizashi purposely bumps shoulders with Aizawa as they enter the classroom. Pride wells up in his chest as the majority of students turn in their direction. He straightens and smiles as big as his cheeks will allow him, taking long strides over to his friends crowded around an open window.

“Yo, Yamada! Where were you at lunch?” A boy asks, pointing his thumb backwards at Aizawa. Hizashi throws his arms behind his head, stretching as he speaks.

“Bah! Sorry, Ito. I ate lunch with Aizawa. I didn’t bother texting ‘cause I was half expecting him to turn me down. But we actually had a nice time. Well, I did anyway,” Hizashi says, twisting a short strand of hair at the nape of his neck. He glances back at Aizawa but the boy is already slouched into a book. 

“Did he invite you, bro? Cause you really have a way of insisting your company onto people.” Another student jokes.

Hizashi’s eyebrows shoot up incredulously. “UH-OUCH! HEY, IT’S WORKED FOR ME SO FAR, YEAH?” He shrieks and shoves at the boy’s arm. Then he hums, “I did follow him actually, yeah.” 

“YOU SIMPING FOR THE EMO BOY, YAMADA?” Ito says way too fucking loudly and Hizashi’s ears catch fire. He elbows his friend hard in the ribs, knocking the wind from his lungs. 

“Eat shit,” he groans and turns to take his seat next to Aizawa, who still refuses to make eye contact. Hizashi leans over and bumps him gently with his fist. Aizawa recoils, finally looking up at him. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and scowls. 

Shit. He must’ve heard. He pushes his glasses high up his nose and leans forward in his chair. 

“Maybe I could borrow your notes sometime?” He asks. 

“Maybe you can start taking your own notes,” Shota says, dryly. 

“I bet I can tell more about you by your handwriting.” He rests his chin on his knuckles, eyeing Aizawa from the side of his glasses, “Or your little doodles.” Shota tenses and snaps to face him. 

“What do you want with me, Yamada?” His words are hushed but they sting like venom inside his chest, “Am I some social conquest or are you just making fun of me?” 

“Wait, what?” He furrows his brows, the frequency of his voice grits against his throat, “I just want to get to know you better, man. How did I already piss you off, it's been like five minutes?” 

“Save it!” The other boy spits. Hizashi’s pulse quickens and anger sears through his ribcage like a flare. Just before he can spit back, their teacher steps up to the front of the class, demanding everyone’s attention. 

Hizashi breathes deeply and yanks his sketchbook free from his bag. “I fucking pushed… again,” he thinks to himself, instinctively reaching for the back of his neck. 

The lecture quickly slips into a steady hum in the background of Hizashi’s racing mind. He sketches violently in black ink, loose scribbles become legible by varied line thickness and sloppily cross hatched values. With his free hand, he thumbs the stone inside his jacket pocket, mind replaying how easily he and Aizawa seemed to get along less than an hour ago and how he’s already had too much of him. He wonders if he had stayed by his side instead of running off to his friends, then maybe he wouldn’t have had to push for his attention in the first place. He would’ve already had it. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong by seeing my friends,” he tells himself. “Aizawa probably heard us and got the wrong idea. Fucking Ito, his mouth is bigger than mine.” 

“Did he invite you?” The other student’s voice rings in his head, “You have a way of insisting your company onto others.” He did push. But then, maybe Aizawa needs a little shove from behind. He recalls Aizawa’s doodle the other day, still curious about why the other boy drew a picture of him in the first place. And why he erased it. What was he feeling when he drew it? Hizashi feels many things when he sketches. And sometimes those feelings aren’t clear until afterward. 

His frantic scribbling slows. Hizashi’s vision zooms out from the detail of the drawing and onto the entirety of it. An exaggerated perspective drawing of a raging dragon takes up two pages of his sketchbook.The dragon’s mouth is open impossibly wide with long sharp teeth and a gleam of flame emitting from the back of its throat. Its eyes are black and devoid of reason. He feels proud of this one. And his mind is clearer than ever. He looks over at Aizawa for the first time since class started and feels only a trace of the anger that was there before. 

Fuck it. Class is almost over. He tears a piece of paper from his notebook and jots his phone number down. The bell rings and he drops it onto Aizawa’s desk. He stands up and waits for Aizawa to pile his things into his bag, feeling that if he were to walk away now then Aizawa may never reach out. 

“Text me now so I have your number,” he says calmly. “And walk out with me.” Aizawa picks up the phone number and stares at him, uncertainty written all over his face, all over his body. 

“Give me the chance to decide, please,” he says quietly and tucks the phone number into his pants pocket. Hizashi waits for him to lead and follows. They walk outside together without speaking but Hizashi analyzes his face, his body language, even his breath. He ignores the impulse to speak, intending to let the shorter boy start. Aizawa walks a block and a half past their school and Hizashi almost turns around, feeling awkward and certain that he is once again forcing his presence where it’s not welcome. Aizawa decides for him, slowing his pace and allowing their shoulders to touch for just a second and before turning to face him. He’s contemplating something. He reaches out, hesitates, and then pulls Hizashi’s glasses off. Hizashi’s breath catches at the subtle contact but allows him to follow through. Aizawa’s eyes seem to widen and Hizashi looks away self-consciously.

“Look at me and be sincere,” Aizawa commands. “Why do you really want to be my friend? And why are you so persistent?” 

Hizashi does as he’s told and looks him straight in the eye, uncertain how to respond. Uncertain of what his answer even is and feeling extremely exposed without the rose-tinted glasses to hide behind. His answer becomes clearer as he speaks, “At first I just thought you needed a friend. You’re quiet and I was curious. I still am. So uh, I looked at you a lot, trying to read your mind kinda, read your books even.” He shifts on his feet. “And persistence? Well, I’ve been told it’s just who I am. After hanging out with you today, I can tell that you’re different from my other friends. I like how you speak and how you carry yourself, like you’re older, wiser even.” Hizashi breaks eye contact and examines his shoes. “And pridefully, I wanted to be the guy who could get Shota Aizawa out of his shell. I didn’t want to lose that the same day you finally gave me the chance.” 

Aizawa hands his glasses back to him. His eyes soften, almost seeming to deflate as the blonde slides them back onto his face, pushing them high up on his nose. “Thank you,” is all he says and hands his cell phone over to Hizashi. “Just put your contact in my phone.” Hizashi doesn’t take it. 

“What made you so upset when we got back to class?” 

Annoyance replaces the other boy’s soft expression. He crosses his arms defensively. “I heard what Ito said. Like he was making fun of you for hanging out with me.” He shoves the phone back into his pocket. 

“Dude, don’t ever listen to Ito. He was picking at me, not you. He’s always buggin’ on me about…” He trails off, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, faking a sense of nonchalance.

“That you’re gay?” Aizawa raises an eyebrow. Hizashi’s posture curls in slightly.  

“Well, yeah,” he mumbles. Heat creeps up his neck. 

“Are you?” The shorter boy asks. 

“No. I do like girls,” Hizashi mumbles, “And guys too.” His eyes flicker to Aizawa’s. “I hope that’s okay with you.” 

Aizawa pulls his phone out again, “Put your number in my phone.” 

Hizashi does what he’s told, then catches a glimpse of the other boy’s screen saver as he’s about to pass the phone back over.

“WOAH, IS THIS YOUR CAT? OH MY GOD WHAT IS IT’S NAME?” All seriousness is thrown out the window at this new piece of the Shota Aizawa puzzle. 

“His name is Apollo.” Aizawa’s black hair falls forward as he tips his head, too slow for Hizashi to miss the genuine smile and possibly the hint of a blush on the other boy’s cheeks. 

“Please, please, you have to send pictures to me later, or whenever you feel like it!” He laughs loudly. “I’ll show you my cat too! Her name is Eggs.” Aizawa nods, the small grin still on his face from before. 

“Okay, I’ll do that. Um, I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow then,” he says. Hizashi beams, yanking the rock out from his pocket and waving it in the other boy’s face, “I guess you have no choice, HA HA! I’ll see you tomorrow, buddy!” He spins, shooting his new friend three times with finger guns before heading home. 

Chapter Text

Shota’s POV

Shota slams the door to his bedroom and sheds his backpack and uniform at the door. He tosses on a clean t-shirt and sweatpant before collapsing onto his bed. He tosses his phone several feet away and sighs loudly, allowing his achy muscles to sink into the mattress, into the silence. He had done more talking today than he had in a long time. Yamada had overwhelmed him. 

“Hizashi Yamada,” he articulates his full name out loud. Then repeats himself, slower this time, the boy’s first name lingering on his teeth and in his throat. He feels strangely guilty saying his name out loud in his bedroom, strangely excited. “Hizashi, meaning ‘rays of the sun’,” he thinks to himself, “too much sun and you’ll burn.” 

He closes his eyes, fully picturing Yamada standing in front of him outside of the school. Green eyes stare back at him, big and round and so intense, so sincere. Shota places a hand just beneath his sternum, acknowledging a constricting sensation that he can’t quite identify. He takes some full breaths and the feeling opens up, expanding into his chest. 

“Hizashi Yamada is bisexual,” he reminds himself for the thirteenth time since their departure. Shota wishes he had waited to return those glasses. The other boy’s words ring back and forth in his head, “And guys too.” He wishes he could’ve seen the intention behind those shades, mimicking the vulnerability that Shota felt himself in that moment. “Or the desire, ” his mind taunts. 

He rubs the thought from his eyes, almost laughing at himself. Someone finally reaches out, finally wants to see him and know him and his brain runs with it, starved of genuine friendship since grade school. The discovery of Yamada’s sexuality only fuels his desperation for intimacy. He flips a blanket over his body, hoping that sleep will encourage reason. Unfortunately, his subconscious favors handsome boys with piercings and green eyes over rationality.

Shota wakes up to a knock on the door, “Shota! Dinner’s downstairs when you're ready!” Long shadows casting through the window indicate that he’s slept for way longer than intended. He grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. His cat Apollo greets him at the counter and suddenly all the memories from earlier pour into his groggy brain. “Yamada is probably wondering why I haven’t texted him yet,” he remembers. Shota snaps a quick picture of the cat and sends it to his new contact. 

Yamada’s message comes back scarily fast, one after the other,

APOLLO!

Ope, this is Aizawa, yeah? 

If you’re not, here’s my cat anyway!

*Image sent* 

Shota examines the photo too closely. It shows a black cat stretched out at Yamada’s side. He’s lying on wine colored bed sheets and wearing a black t-shirt with a band Shota doesn’t recognize. 

His mom peeps over his shoulder, “Who’s texting you so much?” 

Shota pulls his phone away instinctively, “Um. Yamada. He’s in the hero program with me.” 

“Is he a friend? You never mentioned him before.” 

“Yeah. I just got his number today, actually.” He tears open the bag of takeout. 

“Is he nice? What kind of quirk does he have?” 

“His quirk is being loud,” he groans, “So loud. He screams at people mostly. But it is effective.” 

His mom cocks her head and says, “And you two actually get along?” 

Shota shrugs and takes the food to his bedroom. “I have homework. Slept too long. Thank you for dinner, Mom.” 

Apollo slips through the door just as Shota closes it behind him. He spreads his laptop, notes and dinner in a semi-circle on his desk. He opens Yamada’s messages. 

(Shota)

Is that Eggs? Why do you call her that? 

(Yamada)

Because she’s a BAD EGG! 

Shota thinks of how to respond and comes up with nothing. So he finishes his dinner and starts on his homework. As he works, he recalls Yamada’s vicious scribbling in class earlier today. 

(Shota)

What were you drawing in class today? 

(Yamada)

A dragon! Wanna see? 

*Incoming facetime*

Shota’s body tenses at the incoming phone call. He lets it ring five times before finally picking up. 

“HEY PAL! Ya busy?” Shota quickly turns his volume down. Yamada beams into the camera. His hair is down and frames his face in loose waves. He must’ve just washed it. He’s also traded his signature shades for a pair of round glasses with gold frames. 

“I was doing homework,” he says dryly, tucking a strand of his own hair behind his ear self-consciously, not used to being on camera. 

“Good time for a break then, yeah? Here’s what I’m workin’ on.” He flips the camera to the floor, a slew of paints and markers and scissors spread out around a very vibrant and impressive drawing of a monstrous dragon. “I drew the dragon in class today, then cut and pasted it onto a thicker piece of paper to paint over. Ha! I was so pissed off when I first drew it, but I like how it’s coming out now.” 

Shota is blown away by his friend’s artistic ability. He knew that Yamada liked to draw, but this is something completely different. “Were you pissed because of me?” he asks, defensively. 

“Ehhh, more angry at myself, I think.” He props the camera up on something that Shota can’t see and flips it back to himself. “And my friends for giving you the wrong idea.” He leans over the drawing and goes back to painting. 

“Sorry I misjudged you,” Shota replies. “And I love the piece. I didn’t know you were so talented.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves dismissively. “Come over sometime and I’ll show you my other work too.” 

“You could just show me now.” 

Hizashi smiles sideways into the camera, “No way! How else will I bribe you to visit?” 

Shota remembers the wine colored sheets in the picture and moves away from the camera to hide his expression. “Yeah. Okay. I think I’d like that. Anyway I still have homework to do so I’m gonna go.” 

“Nah, stay on the phone. I won’t talk. We can just work side by side like a live stream,” he says without looking up from his artwork. “I like the company.” 

Shota considers for a moment and then props his phone up on his empty takeout container. He turns his attention to his homework. Yamada continues to work but doesn’t say anything else. The soft music from his end and the sound of him dipping and swishing his paintbrush relaxes Shota into a steady work rhythm. He doesn’t mind the company either. 

Chapter Text

Hizashi's POV

Hizashi opens the door to the roof for lunch and holds it open for Aizawa to follow. He places the rock, which by now he had painted to resemble an orange cat, between the door and the frame to keep it from locking shut. 

“WHEW! HOT ONE TODAY, MAN!” Hizashi shouts, shedding his uniform jacket and laying it on the ground like a picnic blanket. 

“Keep it down, Yamada, you're gonna get us caught one of these days!” Aizawa thumps him in the arm. 

The two had been eating lunch together every day for three months. By now, Hizashi’s other friends had stopped asking him to lunch, never getting a clear answer where he and Aizawa disappear to every day. They know he’s with Aizawa. He’s always with Aizawa. 

The door slams open a second time and Kayama clicks around the corner, swinging her tote bag against the brick wall and next to Hizashi. She kneels down in front of the two boys, forming a triangle around his jacket. 

“Yamada, grab the salad from my bag,” she demands. 

“YO! You literally just had it!” He hands her the salad anyway and she opens it over his jacket. “Hey, keep that dressing away from my stuff! Oil don’t come out!” She ignores him. 

“Geeze Aizawa, eat much?” Hizashi looks over at his friend, who’s shoveling heaping scoops of rice into his mouth. Aizawa grabs a napkin from Kayama’s tote bag and wipes his mouth and hands clean. 

“Just in a hurry. I have a meeting with Fuji Sensei to discuss my performance in the hero course lately.” He packs up and swings his backpack over both shoulders, “See you guys later.” 

Hizashi wishes him luck and watches him leave. A weight settles in the pit of his stomach. Aizawa had been struggling with heroics lately. And he’s been so hard on himself about it too. His quirk is extremely useful for support but he’s had a difficult time keeping up on his own. It’s become a sore subject between the two because Hizashi can’t relate. His quirk is powerful and easily applied in training. 

Kayama takes Aizawa’s place in the shade, “You worry like he’s your boyfriend, you know? Aizawa’s way tougher than you give him credit for.” 

Hizashi bites into his sandwich, “He’s just so hard on himself,” he says with a mouth full of food. “And quit calling him my boyfriend. He doesn’t like that.”

She shovels a stack of greens into her mouth and swallows. “But you do.”

Hizashi’s chest tightens. He and Aizawa have talked every single day for months and he has grown so accustomed to his company, his speech, his mannerisms that he can’t help but feel his friend’s pain. They facetime every night, one time even while they slept. His other friends have accused him of sneaking off during lunch period to get it on with the other boy, asking why he doesn’t just come clean already. He denies them every time but really, he feeds on the rumors. Everytime someone uses their names together in the same breath, Hizashi feels giddy, like he’s won some rare prize. 

“Yo, Earth to Yamada!” Kayama says, yanking his hand away from the hair on his neck, “And stop doing that, you’re making it stick up in the back.”

Hizashi leans back on the wall behind them, rolling his head to face her, “So what? I got a little crush, big deal.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Little crush? Please, you’re obsessed. I’d bet he’s got the hots for you too.” She pauses, “Does he know that you and I used to screw around?” 

Hizashi's face contorts, “UH, NO! And he doesn’t have to. Besides, it was only two times, big deal!” 

“Ey, what’s a third?” She pokes at his temple, skewing his glasses.

“You wish.” He straightens his glasses and flings his jacket over his shoulder, “See you later, ‘Yama, I’m gonna check on Aizawa.”

Aizawa barely said anything in class after lunch, barely looked at him. Hizashi was really starting to worry. Whatever happened in that meeting today must’ve really got his friend in the dumps, more than usual, anyway. 

Class ends and the students change into their hero gear, getting ready for today’s simulation. A heroes versus villain teamwork exercise. The villains will be protecting a valuable item, and the heroes can win just by touching it. If the heroes can’t make contact with the item within thirty minutes, the villains win.

Hizashi finds himself paired with Hana Yuki, a small girl with a quirk that allows her to slow down time. They are assigned to the villain team. The heroes will be played by Aizawa and Ito. Nervousness tugs at his insides thinking of the two pairing together, about what Ito might say about his feelings towards him. 

He and Yuki take position guarding a fake bomb that looks like it’s been used in this exercise for a decade. He turns to her, “So how does your quirk work? What all will slow down and how so?” 

She looks up at him, “I can slow down or freeze the perception of light and sound waves. This includes all things, organic and inorganic, physical and nonphysical. I can not speed up the frequencies, and don’t have to see the target as long as I have a clear sense of the subject in my mind. Also, I can only freeze one thing at a time.” 

“That is so impressive! Wow, I bet you can find so many applications for that!”

Her cheeks turn pink, “It is pretty impressive isn’t it?” 

“Okay, so since my quirk is better for offense, you should freeze my voice. I have good ears so I’ll be able to hear them coming. When I give you the cue you can unfreeze my voice and let it rip!” 

“In that case why do I have to freeze your quirk? Can’t you just scream and I freeze the heroes?” She asks. 

“Aizawa can erase our quirks as soon as we’re in his field of vision. But if my quirk is already in motion, it’ll take effect even if he erases yours.” He says it like it’s obvious. 

She shakes her head, “And what if they don’t come through the door? They could pop out from the walls for all we know. I can’t change the direction of your voice once it’s in motion.”

Hizashi considers this. “I just won’t use my directional speaker,” he shrugs. 

“Isn’t that a little reckless?” 

His face splits into an evil grin, “We are villians, yeah? I’m sure it won’t count against us. Also, I think you should hide.”

Yuki glances around the room. “Where? This room is practically empty.”

He looks around for a place that she can crouch behind but the room they are in is empty other than the giant bomb in the center. He looks at the old bomb, fingering at a loose panel on the side of it. He digs his fingers beneath the panel’s edge, prying it open from the sidewall with his whole body. The inside is cramped, but Yuki should be small enough to fit inside. He gestures for her to sit inside the bomb. 

“Seriously? You want me to hide inside a BOMB?” 

“What? I’m being incredibly resourceful! And we’re running out of time so CHOP CHOP!” 

She groans and crawls inside. “If I can’t see outside then how will I notice your cue? And how will I know who to visualize?”

“I’ll leave a crack in the panel and stay close. If I squeeze your hand once, release my quirk. Twice means freeze Aizawa. Three times means freeze Ito.” He takes her hand to demonstrate and she flinches at the touch. 

“Oh, and one more thing!” He takes off his noise canceling headphones and places them on Yuki’s head, adjusting the strap so that they fit snug around her ears. She lifts one side up so she can still hear him.

 “Okay I’m going to scream, and you need to freeze my quirk instantly. Then I’ll close the panel and listen for the heroes.”

He takes a few steps back from Yuki and the bomb and gives her a thumbs up. She claps the headphones around her ears and returns the gesture. Hizashi covers his ears and screams as loud as he possibly can. The noise stops as soon as it starts. He runs back to Yuki and closes the warped panel, leaving just enough space for their fingers to touch. He crouches next to the bomb, listening for footsteps. She watches him through the crack. 

Soon after the scream, Hizashi hears soft footsteps creeping through the ceiling and pinpoints the sound coming from two different locations. He looks around for where the vents open up in the ceiling, one in the corner about twenty feet away, and one right above him and the bomb. He listens for the subtle sound of movement from both ends, but only watches for the one above him. A tiny clank of glass escapes from the corner vent, a distraction. Hizashi holds Yuki’s fingers delicately in his hand, eyes unwavering from the vent above them. He feels his throat constrict, indicating that his quirk has just been erased. He smiles maliciously at two glowing eyes peering back at him through the vent. 

The panel in the corner creeks and then clangs against the ground forcefully. Hizashi tears his eyes from Eraser’s gaze and sees Ito dropping from to the ground with a clumsy thud . He squeezes Yuki’s hand one time and instantly the room shakes with the sheer force of his quirk. Ito is sent flying against the wall. Hizashi’s quirk bounces off of the four metallic walls and Ito curls in on himself, his hands cupped around both ears. Hizashi’s head rings from the reckless attack and he notices the trickle of something warm oozing down the sides of his face and is sure that his ears are bleeding too. Knowing Eraserhead is still in the vent above the bomb, he doesn’t move from his spot.

The panel comes crashing from the ceiling and his friend drops, capture-weapon already in motion. Hizashi squeezes Yuki’s hand twice and the boy above him freezes in mid air. “God, he looks so cool,” he thinks to himself. The muscles in his throat ease, erasure must not work if he’s frozen like this. He grabs the directional speaker hanging from his belt loop and holds it to his mouth, aiming a precise shout to the boy in the air. He doesn’t move. 

“Shit,” he mutters. Yuki’s quirk won’t allow him to move from the space he’s frozen in. He has to move the bomb out from under him somehow. Ito finally gets to his feet, using his quirk to create a glass wall between himself and Hizashi. 

“What are you gonna do, Mic? If you scream, the glass will break. You gonna let me get all cut up, villain-boy?” Ito taunts. 

It’s true, Hizashi doesn’t want his friend to get hurt this way. But with Yuki preoccupied and hidden he needs to get rid of him fast. His lips curl into a twisted grin. “You should’ve thrown the glass.” He fills his lungs and puts his speaker to his teeth, a vicious pitch rips through him and straight for the other boy’s shield. Ito absorbs the glass wall into his palms before impact but the force of Hizashi’s quirk sends him flying again. He knocks his head against the wall and remains slumped on the ground. Hizashi shutters. “I guess that’s what Recovery Girl is for,” he mutters to himself. 

Hizashi sprints back over to the bomb and peels the broken panel back. He pulls Yuki out by her arm and pulls the headphones off of her head. Her eyes widen at the blood still trickling down his ears, “Oh my God, Mic, are you okay?” 

He gestures to Eraserhead, still frozen in mid air above the bomb, “We have to move this bomb. I can’t move Eraser while he’s still frozen. Help me push it onto its side so we can roll it.” The two of them charge at the bomb and it topples over. 

“If this were a real bomb we’d be toast,” she laughs. They roll the bomb several meters from where it stood previously. 

“How long does your quirk last? Hizashi asks her. Before she can respond, a large square of glass knocks her off of her feet and shatters on the floor around her. Aizawa drops to the floor, slipping on the broken glass and falling to his hands and knees.

Hizashi’s throat constricts again and Aizawa jumps to his feet, lunging at the blond with full force. His leather jacket protects him from the glass as he slides across the floor. Aizawa straddles him, pinning Hizashi’s arms under his knees while reaching for his capture weapon. Hizashi hooks his feet into the cloth around the other boy’s neck and yanks him backwards. He tries to pin him down but Aizawa punches hard into the left side of his face, and then the right.

Pain sears through his skull and he tries to scream out but his throat is still tight. The ringing in his ears is deafening. The boy beneath him becomes a blur and he grabs desperately at his ears, his face, his hair. His neck is wet and sticky with blood. He vomits all over both of them and feels Aizawa pulling his glasses off and wrapping his arms around him. The last thing he remembers is the ringing, and the warmth of the other boy’s chest.

Hizashi wakes up in a hospital bed. The room is dark, his head is throbbing and his mouth tastes like vomit. He blinks the sleep from his eyes and makes out his mother’s figure sleeping in the chair next to him. He reaches out for her and she jumps to life. She signs to him but his vision is too blurry to read it. 

She leaves the room and returns with Recovery Girl, who holds up a white board but he can’t quite make out the blurry words. He signs to his mom, “glasses.” She hands him the wire framed ones that he keeps at home and he reads what’s written on the white board. 

“ Are you in any pain?”

He nods

“Rate it from 1-10.”

He folds up ten fingers. Recovery Girl moves her mouth like she’s speaking but Hizashi can’t hear her through the ringing in his ears. She leaves and he signs to his mother, “ Where is Aizawa?” 

“School,” She signs back. 

 Recovery girl returns with another message on the whiteboard. 

This is morphine for your pain

She draws the medicine up in a syringe and injects it into an IV that he didn’t realize he had. It makes him dizzy and kind of nauseous but the pain does subside. His mother places a wet rag on his head and the world fades out again. 

Chapter Text

Shota’s POV

“YAMADA! Yamada, tell me what’s wrong! What happened to you?” Shota shrieks, pulling his friend's glasses off as he claws at his ears, smearing blood into his hair. “Hizashi, look at me, please!” The blond’s given name slips from his mouth but the other boy can’t hear him. He finally looks up at him, eyes wide and so afraid, then vomits all over the both of them. His head falls into Shota’s chest and he wraps both arms around him. “What did I do?” His mind races. “I couldn’t have hit him that hard.” He remembers the blood before he threw the punches, but Yamada was in motion. Stopping would have cost him the win and he needed a win!

The fucking win. As if it mattered now. As if it ever mattered. He clutches his best friend’s limp body, “HELP! SOMEONE HELP HIM, PLEASE!”

“I’ll go get Sensei!” Yuki squeaks and darts out of the simulation room. Ito sprints over and tries to pry the blond from his arms but Shota can’t bring himself to let him go. I did this. His head spins. 

“Aizawa let go! We have to get him to Recovery Girl, now!” He releases Yamada and Ito lays him flat on the ground. He unzips his leather jacket, “I’ll lift him up, you pull the jacket off.” Shota does what he’s told. 

Yuki returns with Fuji sensei and Recovery Girl carrying a stretcher. Together, the two boys lift him onto the stretcher and Recovery Girl plops a wet smooch in the center of his forehead. 

“Alright boys, let’s get him to my office,” Recovery Girl says, calm as ever. “Fuji, you stay with your class. We got it from here.” He bends over with a quick bow and they’re off.

Shota and Ito slide Yamada onto the hospital bed. Recovery girl wipes some of the blood away from both ears and examines them with an otoscope. 

“The poor boy’s gone and ruptured his eardrums. And probably not for the first time judging by the scar tissue.” She shakes her head. “They should hopefully heal on their own, but he may have some hearing loss as well.” 

Shota feels sick. “Well what can we do?” 

“You two can go back to class,” she says, already checking his vital signs, “I’m going to get hold of his mother and tell her what happened.” 

He looks over at Ito, who only shrugs. “Aizawa should stay,” he says. “It’s what Yamada would want.” 

“Well he can stay out of the way in that chair.” She glances up at him, “ After he gets cleaned up.” 

He looks down at his hero costume, and the contents of Yamada’s lunch all over the front of it. “Uh, yes. Of course, thank you. He looks at Ito and tries to thank him with his eyes. He gives him a thumbs up and heads back to class. 

When Shota returns in a clean uniform, Yamada’s mother is already there. She’s tall and beautiful like him, blonde hair swept into a low bun and light eyes that look him up and down. 

“Uh, hello. I’m Shota Aizawa.” He shifts awkwardly on his feet. Her eyes linger on him for a moment, then back to her son. Shota studies her face, eyes rimmed red and wet. She runs a hand through his matted hair. Shota’s pulse quickens. Guilt creeps up his stomach and threatens to swallow him whole. He turns on his feet and walks out the door.

Shota fidgets restlessly in class the following day, taking notes more for the sake of keeping Yamada up to date than for his own use. He barely slept the night before, making himself absolutely sick with guilt and with worry. He’s sent Yamada more apology texts than his pride will care to admit, knowing that he probably hasn’t been able to read any of them. He’s considered sneaking into Yamada’s phone to delete the messages, or some of them at least. He will see Yamada today, whether his mother is there or not. 

The final bell rings and Shota’s already packed and halfway out the door. Somewhere between the classroom and the nurse’s station he hears his name being called from behind him. 

“Aizawa! Wait up.” Ito jogs to catch up with him. “You on your way to see Yamada?” 

“Obviously.” The words come out like stone but he’s too nervous to act nice. 

Ito shoots him a look but shakes off whatever comment he was about to say, “How was he after I left yesterday?” 

The guilt returns, spreading through his chest like smoke. “I don’t know. He was asleep. I think his mom was there so I left.” 

Ito claps a hand onto his shoulder. “Surely she knows of you. You should’ve stayed.” 

Shota tenses. He couldn’t. He physically couldn’t be in that room with her. 

“Dude, don’t beat yourself up about what happened. Yamada didn’t hold back and he wouldn’t want you to either.” He frowns, “I mean, I didn’t think he would want to and shatter my glass with me behind it, but he certainly tried.” 

“That glass wall was irrational,” Shota says dryly. “You knew he could shatter it.”

“I was betting that he wouldn’t. But I don’t blame him. And he can’t blame you either.” 

Shota only shrugs. 

“Anyway, I’ll check in with him later. I know it’s you that he really wants to see right now.” 

Shota tries to read his expression but the other boy is already heading in another direction. 

When Shota finally arrives at the nurse’s office, Yamada is awake and dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair is still filthy and sticking up in every direction, but Shota finds it kind of charming. His eyes light up when he sees Shota, jumping up and pulling him into a tight hug. Shota freezes, but eventually sinks into his best friend’s embrace, a day’s worth of worry thawing in this one short moment. Suddenly self conscious, Shota separates himself from the taller boy and examines his face. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

Yamada’s eyes drop to his lips and Shota’s pulse quickens, imagination already getting the best of him. Instead, Yamada steps back and motions something with his hands, then points to his ears. Shota raises an eyebrow. Yamada huffs and reaches for the white board on his bed, scribbling something down and flipping it around. 

I can’t hear. And my head hurts!

The anxiety floods back into Shota’s blood stream in full force. Yamada reads him like a book and writes something else.

It’s probably temporary. This has happened before. 

Shota points to his phone, wondering if Yamada had opened any of his apology texts. Yamada rolls his eyes and speaks in a low, quiet voice. 

“It’s not your fault, Aizawa. I did this to myself.” 

The pitch of his voice sends chills up Shota’s spine and he hugs him again, taking the opportunity to feel his warmth while it's still somewhat appropriate. He smells like detergent and sweat and blood and Shota wants to bottle it up and wear him like a perfume. The sound of high heels clicks from around the corner and he parts with his friend a second time. Yamada keeps an arm around his shoulders as his mother appears with Recovery Girl, holding what appears to be a discharge folder and a roll of tape and gauze.

She signs something to Yamada and he gestures to Shota, smiling ear to ear. He turns to him and says in that same hushed voice, “I get to go home. And you’re coming with me.” Shota hopes that his face is not as red as it feels. Recovery Girl removes his IV and his mother translates the discharge instructions with her hands. Shota watches them curiously. His mother looks at him with the same intensity that her son has used on him over and over again. Like she can recite his life story just from the angle of his eyebrows and the tilt of his shoulders. He looks away, feeling transparent.

On the train ride to Yamada’s apartment, Shota concludes that his mother is deaf. He and his mother communicate only using Japanese Sign Language but their bodies and facial expressions still make them feel like the loudest people on the train. Shota has many questions about how Yamada’s mother lost her hearing but decided that if he wanted to volunteer that information then he would've by now. Or maybe Yamada just never thought to mention it and Shota is looking too far into it. 

When they get to Yamada’s apartment, the first thing Shota notices is how lived-in it feels. The floors are overlapped with beautiful rugs and the walls are covered in paintings and photographs of Yamada as a child. The sofa is plush and violet beneath multiple pillows and  throw blankets arranged as if someone had just woken from a nap without bothering to clean up. The whole space feels like one living entity, completely different from his own traditional household. There are plants and books lining shelves against the staircase, on the coffee table and even one opened face down on the couch. Shota looks around in awe but Yamada grabs him by the arm and pulls him up the stairs. Shota has seen his friend’s room through FaceTime only and he holds his breath in anticipation of the real thing. 

Yamada pushes through the bedroom door and Shota’s eyes immediately search out the wine colored bed spread, occupying a loft style frame with string lights weaved in and out of the top bunk. His walls are covered in posters, paintings, torn book pages and records but Shota still makes out the hint of emerald green paint between the decorations. There is an acoustic guitar on his bed plastered in stickers and an electric one on the wall next to the door. Shota’s mind plays back to when his friend would strum the guitar on FaceTime and wonders if he can still play without his hearing. 

Yamada plops his bag down on the floor and digs in the pocket for the pain pills he picked up on the way home. He pops one in his mouth and swallows it with a half finished bottle of water on his night stand. 

“I’m gonna take a bath. Eggs will keep you company.” He says, voice barely a rumble. 

He scoops up the black cat from the hallway and dumps him on the floor next to Shota before closing the door behind him. Shota sits awkwardly on the bed next to Eggs, then lays down. He looks up at the fairy lights above him and thinks that this would make a great spot for reading. Unable to help himself, he nuzzles his face into the blond’s pillow and inhales the scent. A mix of Shampoo and musk coils down into his belly, tugging at the edges of his teenage mind. 

Curious, he gets to his feet and starts snooping around, eager to archive any new information on Hizashi Yamada’s mess of a mind. He sifts through drawers filled to the brim with art supplies, loose pages of short poetry (or songs lyrics) jotted down and folded up to be forgotten about. The top bunk of his bed is piled with used and unused canvases, half read artbooks and dog eared manga collections. Eggs watches, half interested, as Shota thumbs through a stack of old sketchbooks peeking out from under his bed. Two of the most recent ones even include pictures he’s watched Yamada complete on FaceTime or in class. His sketchbooks are thick, the pages crinkled with dried watercolors or crisp with pasted quotes from magazines or newspapers. He can’t decide if Yamada’s bedroom is an ADHD dream or a nightmare and he thinks that he should ask him once he’s feeling more like himself again. 

Shota strums mindlessly at the acoustic guitar on the bed when he realizes that Yamada had been in the bath for over half an hour after taking his pain medicine. He steps out to the bathroom door and places his ear against it. No noise comes from the other side. He considers knocking but remembers that his friend won’t be able to hear him so he opens the door slowly and peeks through the crack. Yamada is asleep, sunk chest deep into the water with his head lolled back. 

“He looks so pretty,” Shota thinks. He commits the image of sleepy, naked Yamada to permanent memory and then he considers alerting his mother. He pauses, thinking that if he himself had fallen asleep in the bathtub, he wouldn’t exactly want his mother to be the one who found him. 

He closes the bathroom door behind him and shakes his friend awake. The blond rubs the sleep out of his eyes and squints at Shota. When he finally comes to, his cheeks flush beet red and he quickly covers himself with a washcloth. Shota looks away nervously, wishing Yamada could hear his explanation. He pulls out his phone and types out a message before showing it to the boy in the tub. 

You fell asleep. It’s been over 30 mins.  

Yamada nods slowly, then leans back, massaging the back of his neck. He still looks sleepy. Shota types out another message, feeling a little embarrassed, but shows it to him anyway. 

Let me wash your hair. It’s covered in blood. 

Yamada looks up at him wide eyed. He hesitates, but then reaches for the shampoo and conditioner on the ledge and hands it to Shota. He positions himself in the tub so that his back is facing the dark haired teen. He points to his ears and makes a swiping motion with his hands that Shota interprets as, “Don’t get my ears wet.” 

Shota reaches for the shower head and checks the pressure and temperature on his hands before tipping his head back and letting the water run through his matted hair. Yamada tilts his head back even further, exposing his strong neck and Adam’s apple but Shota fixes his eyes on the task at hand. He squirts a generous dollop of shampoo into his palm and starts working through Yamada’s hair. He melts into the touch and lets out a low breath that makes a beeline to Shota’s groin. He’s thankful that the other boy is facing away from him because this is probably the most intimate thing he’s ever done with anyone and he thinks he may legitimately pass out if they were to make eye contact right now. He rinses again, eyes unconsciously following the soap running down Yamada’s neck and shoulders and chest. He imagines for one second what it’d be like to lick where the water pools in his collar bone but he shakes the idea from his mind and massages the conditioner into his hair. He combs any knots out with his fingers, probably spending more time than he needs to and then rinses it out fully. 

Shota squeezes his shoulders twice to indicate that he is finished. Yamada leans his head backwards against the edge of the tub to look up at him. Green eyes catch his own, lingering on the water droplets that cling to his flushed chest and abdomen. His cheeks are pink and so are his lips. Shota could easily bend down and kiss him right now. He could place his hands right over his exposed neck and move them over his chest and down to the faint hair on his stomach. Yamada says he likes boys after all. Would he mind? Does he know that Shota likes boys too? He doesn’t recall ever telling him. 

“Thank you, Shota,” Yamada whispers. His given name sounds so sweet and so sultry in that low pitch. He has to get out now before he does something he shouldn’t. 

He nods too fast, feeling stupid, and leaves the bathroom adjusting the hardness in his pants before he even makes it back to Yamada’s bedroom. He needs relief, or at the very least a break from Hizashi Yamada but this room is entirely composed of his being. His scent, his happiness, his sadness and his beautiful creative mind. He sits on the bed and tries to rub the perverted thoughts out from behind his eyelids, then plucks at the guitar strings, trying to act nonchalant while distracting himself from his too hot body.

Yamada walks in wearing only a towel and Shota almost groans out with frustration. The blonde barely looks at him and throws on a pair of clean shorts and a faded t-shirt. Shota worries that may have made him uncomfortable by either leaving him too soon or staying too long. Unsure of what to do, he hands the blonde his phone and types out a shaky text. 

Can I call you Hizashi?

His smile returns and it reaches his eyes. He nods and crawls onto the bed next to Shota. He texts him back, 

ABSOLUTELY! I need a nap. You can stay if you want. 

Shota considers leaving now. Then looks at Hizashi and his wet hair and his smile, snuggled up in the bed sheets that Shota has only seen in pictures and in his dreams every night for the last three months, and he decides to stay. Hizashi turns away from him and sends one more text, before shutting his phone off and pulling the covers over himself. 

I can’t wait to hear you say my name. 

Just like that, Shota’s body is hot all over again. Feeling thankful for the blanket over his lap, he picks up a book half read and dog eared on the bed and makes himself busy while Hizashi sleeps. 

Chapter Text

Hizashi sits up from his nap, sweaty and groggy, with a song playing over and over in his head. A quick glance at his phone confirms that it’s past two in the morning and he’s slept for nearly ten hours already. His aching head nags at him but he doesn’t want to take another narcotic so soon before school. There is Tylenol in the bathroom, which won’t make him feel so drowsy. He goes to scooch out of bed and thumps into a dense figure snuggled up beneath his comforter. 

Aizawa. He sucks in a sharp breath as memories from yesterday flood back into place. A cocktail of emotions take up residence in different parts of his body. Excitement, that this beautiful boy is taking up the better half of his bed bubbles up from his belly to his chest. His giddiness gets caught in his throat and he wants to squeal and squeeze something big. He opts for a pillow, pulling it in tightly to his chest and face, smiling ridiculously into it. Then his face falls, remembering the bath. Shame and humiliation coil up like weeds in his stomach. It’s not like Aizawa’s never seen him naked, like in the shower rooms at school. But being the only one naked in a bathtub, desperately trying to conceal your hard dick in a hand towel while your fully clothed, totally hot friend washes your hair is not the same! The embarrassment chases his mind in circles. “Did he notice? All he had to do was look over my shoulder.” Phantom fingertips brush the soft hairs on his head. Aizawa washing his hair had felt so good that it felt like he was touching him all over. 

Shota. He had called him Shota in the bath. His cheeks heat up. It just felt so natural, so domestic that he hardly thought about it when he said it. That, and the pain medicine made his brain hazy. The embarrassment competes with the hardness in his pants, remembering how the other boy had sprinted out of the bathroom after hearing his given name. Hizashi breathes into the sensations in his body, acknowledging all of them and where they are. Then back to his headache. He needs Tylenol, now . He creeps around the sleeping body beside him, unsure if he’s making too much noise or not. He slips through the door and the cat escapes with him. 

Hizashi closes the bathroom door behind him and takes his Tylenol. Then he sits on the toilet, contemplating whether or not it’s worth dealing with the arousal that’s built up over the last few hours, since he won’t be able to hear if anyone wakes up and tries to use the bathroom. But being alone, late at night with no distraction and Shota sleeping in his bed, Hizashi can’t see his problem going away anytime soon. Phantom fingers find their way back to his skin. He locks the door and takes care of himself quickly. 

Back in his room, feeling slightly guilty and slightly relieved, his mind goes on a rampage. The song he woke up to replays relentlessly in his head. He wishes he could just throw his headphones on and change the channel. He wishes he could hear Shota’s breathing. He wishes he could just hear anything . The silence makes his brain feel so loud. He wants to hum or sing but it’s hard to gauge his volume unless he keeps his voice low, so he can feel the vibration in his chest. He turns on his desk lamp and digs the box fan out from his closet, glancing backward to make sure the boy in his bed remains asleep. He turns it on and focuses on the sensation of cool air blowing at his skin. Then he cracks open his sketchbook and gets to work. After an hour and a half in front of the fan and three pages of his sketchbook filled (mostly drawings of Shota), he decides that his mind is finally quiet enough to go back to sleep. 

Shota stirs awake as Hizashi crawls over him onto his side of the bed. Eyes unfocused in the dark, he reaches over and takes him by the arm. Hizashi tenses. The other boy gives him a squeeze and retrieves his hand, rolling onto his side and doses off again. Without the arousal from earlier, Hizashi allows warmth to well up in his chest as he settles into the comforter. He faces his friend’s back, watching it expand and fall with each breath until he drifts off to sleep.

The next morning, Hizashi and Shota take the train to school together. He looks over the shorter boy’s shoulder, half reading the folded up paperback in his hand and half eyeing the way his borrowed uniform stretches across his chest and clings to his thighs. Shota leans in so their shoulders are touching, positioning the book so that they both can read. Hizashi has to will himself not to drape an arm around his shoulders, feeling that yesterday it would’ve been okay but somehow after sharing a bed all night, he’d be pushing his luck. Especially with some of their other classmates on the train too. He can feel their eyes on them. Word about his accident has definitely gotten out by now. Nervously, he reaches for the hair on the back of his neck and Shota leans further into him. He stiffens, glancing around the train where he can see two girls from class 1A whispering and giggling about something. He wishes he could hear them. If he weren’t currently deaf he probably could from this distance. He lets out a heavy breath and lets his arm fall around Shota’s shoulders. His heart pounds so heavily that he swears he can almost hear it.

When they make it to the school gates, Hizashi makes a bee line to Recovery Girl’s office. Shota follows close behind. The door is still locked. Hizashi lets out a frustrated breath and runs a hand through his hair. 

“Shit,” he rumbles. She must not be in yet today. Shota claps a reassuring hand on his back and shrugs. Then his head perks up and he looks behind him. Hizashi follows his gaze. Recovery Girl strolls up to the door jingling a set of keys and a purse almost larger than her body. She stops and looks Shota up and down, eyebrow raised at his ill-fitting uniform, then back at Hizashi. She motions for him to lean down and leaves a kiss on his temple. Hizashi’s eardrums physically pop and the mixed volume of students chatting and walking and yelling all comes back online at once. It’s almost disorienting but all the tension escapes from his bones as he sighs audibly with relief. 

“THANK GOD. THANK YOU, RECOVERY GIRL! Man, I thought I really did it this time! I was so afraid I couldn’t be fixed!” He tips his head back and laughs out loud, the vibration feels so good in his belly. The air chopping from his lungs as he giggles feels so good. His ears still ache but it has nothing on the relief, the sound, the feeling of noise! Recovery Girl unlocks her office and steps in, gesturing for the two boys to follow. 

“Sit down and let me check your ears.” She motions towards a chair and snatches the otoscope off the counter. She peaks at both ears through it. 

“Your quirk is powerful. And like many UA students, that power is increasing so quickly that your body can’t adapt fast enough to protect you from it. While I am glad you have your hearing back, dear, it is crucial that you take your own safety seriously. Your tympanic membranes are both covered in scar tissue. The next time you hurt yourself like this, you’re risking permanent hearing loss.” 

Hizashi gulps and bows his head. “Yes ma’am. Thank you, again.” He scurries to his feet and slings his backpack over one shoulder. They step out of the nurse's office and close the door behind them. He turns to Shota, mouth stretched into a ridiculous smile. 

“Awfully quiet over there, buddy. Anything you wanna say to me?” 

Shota folds his arms in front of him. “What? That you’re reckless and rely on your quirk too much?” Then he softens. “But I am sorry. For hitting you the other day. I saw the blood and I still punched you.” He sucks a breath in, making his shirt tug tight across his chest. “It wasn’t very heroic of me.” 

“BAH! Please, I don’t care about that. I would’ve been more upset if you went easy on me. Besides, it earned me a day off and a hot sponge bath didn’t it?”

A deep red shade creeps from the shorter boy’s neck all the way to his hairline. “I should’ve let you drown. No, I should’ve drowned you.” He punches him in the arm and stomps towards class. Hizashi’s laugh echoes through the hallway as he follows behind.

Hizashi buzzes among his classmates on the UA training grounds, talking to anyone and everyone who will listen. It resembles a small city with ten life sized buildings. Fuji Sensei goes over the rules of the day’s exercise at the front of the class.

“Today you will be doing a mock rescue mission. You will be split into two groups, the rescuers and the wounded. The wounded will each be given a small script and list of symptoms. The rescuers will be given color coded cards. Green for minimal, walking injuries. Yellow is for urgent injuries, such as large distal wounds. Red is life or death injury, usually involving the vital organs. The victims will either be hidden or in plain sight. Find and assess your wounded victim, label them with the appropriate card and either redirect them to safety or take them to the safety grounds labeled immediately.” 

Riyuji Koboyashi, a student with a size-altering quirk raises his hand. “What does the black card mean?” 

“The black card is for a dead person. Specifically, pulseless for more than ten seconds. A dead person would not be a priority.” Fuji says. 

Hana Yuki gasps. “Wouldn’t we do CPR?”

“In a disaster situation, those resources need to be used for the living and those close to death. And even if we could revive someone with high quality CPR, we wouldn’t have the resources to keep them alive.” 

“YO, TEACH!” Hizashi chimes. “Won’t it look a little unheroic to leave a dead person lying where we found them?” He swallows thickly, “Their families will want to know what happened to them. Besides, I don’t want my image dragged, ya dig?” 

Fuji coughs, “In a disaster situation I hope that your image is your last concern. Body retrieval will occur once the dust settles.” 

Heat rises up Hizashi’s neck. “Jeesh, I was mostly kidding,” he mumbles to the ground. 

Ito slings an arm over his shoulder and laughs. “Don’t worry, I get it buddy. Can’t slip up in front of the cameras!” 

Hizashi grins widely at him, but the embarrassment remains. He glances over to Shota, who’s listening to Fuji Sensei intently and examining his dialogue sheet.

Fuji continues, “Rescuers will be provided with a small pack of medical supplies, tourniquets, gauze, paper bags and medical tape. Listen to their symptoms, act quickly and move on. Also, the exercise will not end until all victims are found.” 

Hizashi digs through his medical pack and takes note of the materials inside, then slings the satchel over his shoulder. Ito and Yuki are also on the rescue team with him. The first alarm rings and the victims take off to hide, Shota at the front of the pack.  

“So Sakura and Shimizu said they saw you and Aizawa get on the train together,” Ito says with a wink. “Said you guys were practically snuggled up in public. That true?” 

Hizashi’s eyebrows pinch. “That is NOT true! We rode the train together but that’s it.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Besides, you know those two are total gossips.” 

Ito shrugs. “Gossips, yeah. But they aren’t liars. Besides, you should’ve seen Aizawa after your incident the other day. He cares an awful lot about you.” 

“Of course he does. We’re good friends.” Hizashi pushes his glasses back up his nose. 

“Nah, you and I are good friends. You two are something else.” 

Hizashi’s heart sinks. “I just don’t think Shota swings that way, ya know? Not like I haven’t tested the waters.” Images of the bath flash across his mind and he can feel the mixed emotions from last night returning, uglier this time. 

Ito’s about to say something else but the alarm cuts him off. They both start running. The mock city is big and there are ten students that need to be rescued. They pass several buildings and cut down an alley. Hizashi spots a classmate and sprints over to him, Ito keeps close behind. Tokage Sato, a heteromorph boy with a reptilian quirk, leans against the wall and clutches his stomach as soon as he spots Hizashi and Ito coming down the alley. 

“Ow! Oh, Ow! Heroes, please help me. I've been shot right in my stomach,” Sato says with less enthusiasm than Hizashi had been hoping for. When he gets to play victim, he’s gonna totally play it up.

“Don’t worry, listener! Present Mic and Spectra are here to save you!” 

Ito rolls his eyes and digs out a roll of gauze. “Yamada, pack his wound and hold pressure on it. I’ll create a glass stretcher so we can carry him out to safety.” 

Hizashi does what he’s told and starts stuffing gauze into Sato’s jacket pocket, pretending it’s a real gunshot wound. 

“Glad to see you back in action, Yamada. Class was so quiet without you there yesterday. It was almost creepy.” Sato says. 

“Thanks, man. Being deaf almost drove me insane. It was definitely a lesson I needed to be taught though.” 

Sato’s mouth gapes open. “You were deaf?” 

Ito perks up, “EY! What about me? My ears were ringing for hours after that blast! Anyway, let's get you on the stretcher.” 

Hizashi shoots Ito an apologetic grin.Then he hands the reptilian boy a red card and helps him onto the stretcher. Ito and Hizashi take both ends and lug him across the safety line. 

“Yo, next time make some wheels for this thing! Sato’s heavy as shit!” Hizashi breathes out, lowering the reptilian boy onto the ground. 

“OUCH! My feelings!” Sato squeezes a hand over his heart dramatically and the two smaller boys burst out laughing. 

“I wish you used those same theatrics for your gunshot wound!” Ito jokes. He turns and jogs back into the city, Hizashi keeping pace beside him. They climb the stairs of a building and step out onto a roof balcony, completely concealed by plant debris. Hizashi fills his lungs with air and blows hard at the dry brush. It flies up and off of the balcony in a giant “Whoosh,” revealing a tall, full bodied girl laying flat on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. Humari Sakura holds her dialogue card out where the two boys can see. Hizashi plucks the card from her hands and reads it out loud, “A tree landed on me. I have no pulse.” 

“Ironic, with her nature quirk and all.” Ito mumbles, and replaces the first card with a black one. She accepts it and smiles without opening her eyes. They leave the girl and descend the stairs. An announcement is made overhead. 

“HEROES, ONLY ONE LAST VICTIM WHO NEEDS RESCUED! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK AND WRAP THIS UP!” 

Hizashi and Ito scour several more buildings with no sign of finding the final victim. Huffing up the stairs of the tenth building in the arena, they bump into Hana Yuki on the top floor. 

“Hey, Yamada. How are your ears?” She asks, bashfully. 

“I’m all healed! Sorry if I scared you.” He smiles broadly at her. “It was still a cool plan though wasn’t it?” 

“ I wasn’t scared. Your boyfriend sure was though.” She sighs, “Your plan was totally reckless… and you stuck me in a bomb.”

Anger flares at the top of Hizashi’s stomach and burns through his chest. Two days ago he would have ignored the comment, maybe even been amused by it. But at this point it’s becoming a sore subject, a constant reminder of what he can’t have. 

“Ugh, Aizawa is not my boyfriend! Would you all hop off my back about him?” His face feels hot. “And it was a good plan! If you didn’t hide then he would’ve erased both of our quirks and we would’ve lost.”

“Well, really no one won.” Yuki crosses her arms. “And excuse me for getting the wrong idea. You two are so far up each other’s asses, it’s not like anyone else has the chance to ask you out.” She looks him up and down, her own face turning pink. 

Ito pats him on the back reassuringly. “Forget about it guys. Let's find this last person already.”

Hizashi wants this to be over. He considers yelling out for the last person. If someone’s injured they’d want help, right? He jogs away from the group and shouts down the hallway, “ANYBODY INJURED IN HERE? THE HEROES ARE HERE TO HELP YOU!” No movement and no sound comes in response. Where the hell can this last person be? They’ve already scoured every building and alleyway on the map. Hiding is not the main objective of this simulation and he can’t imagine why they’re letting it drag on. He wonders if Shota has been found yet, then imagines him hiding in a closet somewhere just to take a nap. He starts flinging doors open and quickly searching through rooms, closets and beneath countertops. He hears Ito and Yuki doing the same further down the hallway. He makes it to the last room on the top floor and flings the door open. Shota lays on his side underneath an office desk using a stack of printer papers as a pillow. 

“GUYS I FOUND HIM!” Hizashi shouts. Two pairs of footsteps race from the next room over and arrive at the door frame. Yuki spots Shota beneath the desk and makes a choking sound. Hizashi doesn’t look at her. 

“Bad time to take a nap buddy, we’ve been looking everywhere for you! Why didn’t you answer when I called out?” 

“I heard you yell. But... I heard you guys arguing too and didn’t really know what to do with myself.” Shota shifts uncomfortably and looks at the dialogue card in his lap. “Um, I have a stab wound in my thigh… ouch.” Hizashi’s heart plummets. He heard them arguing? Did he hear what Yuki said? Or Ito earlier? Fuck!

“Sho, I’m so sorry! I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I can make it up to you.” His hands tremble as he digs the tourniquet and gauze from his medical pack. They shake even more as he wraps the tourniquet around Shota’s thigh and stuffs the length of a gauze roll into his utility pocket with a yellow card. Ito and Yuki lean into each other behind him, he can hear them whispering something but he’s too overwhelmed to zone in on what they’re saying. He feels completely transparent. It makes him sick. 

He loops Shota’s arm around his neck and grabs hold of his belt loop to lift him up but the dark haired teen stands on his own. 

“Thank you, Yamada. I’m fine now.” He walks briskly out the door. Hizashi wants to throw up. 

“Yamada? What the hell? I thought we were on a first name basis!” Hizashi sprints to catch up to him. 

Shota’s face contorts, his voice is hoarse and flat. “That was a mistake. I don’t want to embarrass you and I don’t want anyone thinking that we could be a couple.” 

Hizashi slows and lets Ito and Yuki catch up with him. His heart feels like it’s been torn open and he wants to scream at them but he knows it's not their fault. It’s his. He’d let himself get carried away with it all, the idea of being so close to Shota Aizawa. He entertained his own fantasy for too long, and he let everyone else do it too. Tears sting at the corner of his eyes and he blinks them away quickly. Hizashi is usually no cry baby but his shame is fire-bright and open for everyone around to see. He squares his shoulders in self-defiance and Ito throws an arm around him. Yuki trudges close behind. Shota is already out of sight. 

Chapter Text

Hizashi's POV

Hizashi avoided Shota in the locker rooms, afraid of how his body might react to being near the other boy as he undressed. And afraid of what it meant for those who accused them of being a couple. He was openly bi, but none of his other guy friends have ever treated him any differently for it. Maybe they didn’t really believe that it was true, or that it was just something to pick on him harmlessly about. Maybe liking boys was only okay to them as long as he primarily dated or talked about girls. He never felt ashamed of it before. But something about Shota’s tone, his disgust towards the rumor of the two of them possibly being a couple made Hizashi feel shameful in a way he’s never felt before. His sexuality isn’t exactly something he offers without reason but Shota had asked back when they first met, and he had no reason to lie. If he never asked, maybe he never would’ve told him. 

What changed? Why does he suddenly care now? At what point did I cross that line? He remembers how Shota responded to his joke this morning about the bath, “I should've let you drown.” At the time Hizashi thought it was funny and that they were only making light of a mutually embarrassing situation. And the way Shota leaned into him on the train, he almost wondered if he felt the same way. 

“Stupid,” he hisses to himself. 

“Dude, give yourself a break. I think you’re both overreacting,” Ito says next to him. Hizashi’s eyes flash instinctively to his friend’s well-muscled chest and then up to his face. He’s always found Ito attractive. But he never felt awkward about it until now. 

“Ito, have I ever made you uncomfortable?” Hizashi asks, straightening out his shirt collar. 

“Nah, I always found your admiration kind of flattering.” He laughs, flexing his biceps. “But I think that Aizawa’s reaction had more to do with himself than it did with you. Give him some time. Some space, even. He’ll come around.” Hizashi only hums in response. 

“Wanna hang out later? We could hit the cafe after school or just play some games at your house.” 

“Yeah, man. Come over. I could use the distraction, I think.” 

“Cool, I’ll text my parents and tell them I’ll be home late.” Hizashi smiles, a little bit of the weight lifting up off his stomach.

Ito clunks his bag down next to Hizashi’s and takes off his jacket and tie. 

“Man, it’s been forever since I’ve been over! Did you paint the walls?” 

“Yeah but you can hardly see them now, ha-ha! Too much to hang up.” 

Hizashi turns on his console and plops down on the bed. Ito picks up the second controller and sits cross-legged next to him. He looks around at the paintings on the walls. 

“When are you gonna start selling your art? You could make a decent buck and clear out some of this clutter, you know.” 

“Nah, I ain’t that good. It’s rare that I actually finish a piece anyway. And when I do I usually just keep it for myself or my mom.” He flips through his collection of games and picks a combat style one. 

“Speaking of your mom, I think she gave Aizawa the spooks the other day. Was that his first time meeting her?” 

Hizashi tenses at his crush’s name. But then, it’s not like he wasn’t going to bring him up. 

“Yeah it was his first time. I probably should’ve mentioned that she’s deaf before he came over though. It just never came up.” 

“That was his first time over? I’m surprised considering how much you guys hang out at school,” Ito says, glancing away from the game to read the blond’s expression. “Did he sleep over?” 

Hizashi’s ears heat up. “Yeah, um. I wonder if it had anything to do with why he acted so weird today, actually. I was kind of woozy on pain meds yesterday and like… he basically gave me a bath. I fell asleep after and he never left.” 

Ito’s mouth drops open and he smacks Hizashi in the arm. “HE GAVE YOU A BATH BRO? WAS IT HOT?” 

Hizashi buries his face into his shirt collar, half relieved to finally tell someone about it and half humiliated to relive it. “He found me after I dozed off in there. Like I said, I was on painkillers. And I mean he just washed my hair, really. I thought it was hot. He apparently did not. Nothing happened after or during.” 

“And yet he still spent the night? Why did he wait until the next day to get all weirded out?” Ito button mashes as he speaks, killing Hizashi with a flashy combination move in the game. 

“You know how he is, man. He can sleep anywhere. I wonder if he even meant to spend the night. My ears were offline and we barely spoke at all. I called him Shota for the first time in the bath and he practically fled like it was a murder scene. He hasn’t used my given name even though I said that he could.” 

Ito’s mouth tightens. “He did when you passed out at school. When he was freaking out, he called you Hizashi. Everyone heard. And I had to practically pry you from his arms to get you to Recovery Girl. I was scared too but he was borderline hysterical” 

Hizashi doesn’t know what to think of this. “He was guilty. That’s all.” He furrows his brows. “And what about Yuki? Why was she so mad earlier?” 

Ito laughs loudly and nudges him with his elbow. “She's just jealous, bro. She’s totally into you. Shame too, she's really cute.” Hizashi considers this, remembering her comment earlier during the rescue mission, how she looked him up and down. She is cute. And sort of mean too, which he’s realizing he has a thing for. 

“Maybe I could get her number or something, if she’s not too put off by now.” Ito shoots him a look but Hizashi ignores it. Guilt tangles in his stomach, among other emotions. “I should at least apologize to her for freaking out today.” Ito smiles at that. 

“I can give you her number. Just don’t do anything stupid until you know where you stand with Aizawa.” Hizashi nods. Ito puts Yuki’s number in his phone. 

Hizashi shoots Shota a text after Ito leaves. 

Are you still mad at me? I’m really sorry about earlier. 

He squeezes his phone, anxious for a reply. He considers calling but then changes his mind. After a few minutes with no response, he chucks his phone under his pillow and picks up the guitar on his bed. Grateful to have his hearing back, he strums a familiar tune that he knows by heart. He remembers playing it for Shota once before on FaceTime, and how he genuinely smiled at the camera. He checks his phone again, no messages. The pit in his stomach grows wider, deeper. He texts Yuki instead. 

Hey Yuki, It’s Hizashi Yamada. I got your number from Kuria Ito. I just wanted to apologize for how I acted earlier. 

She responds almost instantly. 

(Yuki)

Hey. Don’t worry about it. I was totally out of line. I just didn’t realize Aizawa was such a hot button for you. 

(Hizashi)

Not usually. It was just a long couple of days. 

(Yuki)

Well I really am glad you're feeling better. Despite what I said, I was actually pretty worried about you. 

Also

Your plan was almost cool. I forgive you for hiding me in the bomb. 

Hizashi smiles a little, glad to take his mind off of Shota for once. And Yuki’s turning out to be a pretty decent conversationalist. They text back and forth for a while longer until his mom knocks on the door, signing that dinner is ready. He leaves his phone on the bed and meets her downstairs. 

Most people would think that living in a deaf household would be quiet. Maybe some of them are. But the Yamadas play something loud and bassy on the stereo in the living room. Hizashi can feel the vibration on his bare feet. It helps break up some of the anxiety inside of his chest. In the kitchen, his parents clank their silverware loudly, they chew and slurp their drinks loudly, even their body language is loud. He used to wonder if they were this noisy before they had him, back when they could hear. He wondered if their love of music came before or after his birth, or if their taste changed when their senses changed. He also wonders if they used to collect art the way they do now, or if their appreciation for everything visual also came after. 

His dad signs to him from across the table, asking how his day was. He signs back in detail, about the rescue mission and how Ito had come over to play games. His parents share a glance and he knows it’s about Shota, the boy they’ve never met suddenly comes over and doesn’t leave until morning. His face warms and he adverts their gaze, pretending to take special interest in the plate in front of him. He notices a tapping sensation on the table and looks up at his father, who motions with his hands, “The boy?” 

Hizashi rolls his eyes and signs back, “A friend. He was worried about me.” Another suspicious glance between his parents and he starts shoveling his food down faster. He wipes his mouth and takes his plate to the sink, bowing quickly to his parents before scurrying back up to his bedroom. He checks his phone and his stomach leaps. 

(Aizawa)

I’m not mad. Sorry I acted so embarrassed. I should’ve let you help. 

Hizashi lets out a breath that’s felt trapped inside him since he left school. 

(Hizashi)

Why were you so upset? People have always joked about us. 

Did I make you uncomfortable or something? 

Shota takes a while to respond and Hizashi’s hands start to sweat. 

(Shota)

You didn’t do anything wrong, Yamada. 

I’m still your friend. 

Shota calling him his friend used to fill him with light. But now it just feels inadequate. 

(Hizashi)

OF COURSE WE ARE!

And please call me Hizashi.  

He shuts his phone off and rubs his eyes until he sees colors, then rakes his fingers up through hair and around his neck. He itches for his sketchbook, then remembers the drawings of Shota from the night before. Desperate for distraction, he texts Yuki instead. 

(Hizashi) 

Wanna go out for tea after school tomorrow? 

He nearly adds, “as friends” for safe measure but then remembers the way it felt when Aizawa said it to him. Yuki replies in less than a minute. 

(Yuki)

Totally! We can walk to the cafe together after school. 

Shota's POV

Shota drifts into class feeling exhausted from the night before. He hardly slept at all. Maybe he should’ve FaceTimed Hizashi last night to clear things up, or at least get a better reading on how he felt about his outburst yesterday. But Hizashi avoided him after training. He remembers him walking out with Ito after school and a twinge of jealousy gnaws at his uneasy stomach. What if Ito spent the night? What if he slept right where Shota slept two days ago? Would he sleep on the bed at all? He wonders if Hizashi were awake that night, would he have made Shota sleep on the floor instead? 

Hizashi’s already in class when Shota walks in, talking to Yuki. Shota slumps into his seat, unsure of what they could be talking about after their argument yesterday. They aren’t really friends but then, Hizashi socializes with everyone. Shota pulls out the book he stole from Hizashi’s bed, feeling more possessive of it than ever. As if it’s some symbol of connection between the two of them. Something that Yuki and Ito don’t have. He opens it to where he left off but his attention remains glued to Hizashi, watching him from the corner of his eye. He’s usually so loud but Shota can’t make out what they’re saying, although the girl’s expression is playful. She makes eye contact with Shota and seems to intentionally lean over her desk, closer to Hizashi. He bends down to hear what she’s saying, their faces too close for comfort. She smirks and looks back at Shota. Hizashi follows her gaze, stiffening as he notices him for the first time. 

Hizashi nods goodbye to Yuki and strides over to his own desk next to Shota, a grin plastered on his face. It looks forced. 

“You look tired buddy. You sleep at all last night?” 

“I always do,” he lies. “Felt good to be back in my own bed.” Another lie. 

He swears that the blond’s shoulders droop a little. “So we’re good then? I am really sorry about yesterday. I wanted to call so bad but Ito said I should give you space.” Of course he did. The last thing Shota needed was space. He needed his best friend. 

“I wish you did call. I wanted to but I was afraid of seeming like a sap while you hung out with Ito. I saw you guys leave together.” He smooths his hand over the book in his lap. “Can I come over later? My clothes are still at your place.” 

Hizashi rests his chin in his hand. “Ito left early last night and all we did was play video games.” He avoids Shota’s eyes, like he’s uncertain about something. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow instead? I’m supposed to have tea with Yuki after school.” 

Shota’s skin goes cold, and for a moment the room seems to tilt. He blinks to refocus, finding his voice. “Like… a date?” 

Hizashi looks up towards the ceiling, tugging at his earlobe, a new tick that Shota hasn’t seen before. “No. It’s not supposed to be, I mean. But, who knows? We texted a lot last night. She apologized for making fun of us and I apologized for yelling at her.” He shrugs. Shota nearly gags. Since when did Hizashi have her number? He folds his hands together to keep them steady. 

“Have you been on a date before? You seem nervous.” He asks, unsure if he really wants an answer. 

“Yeah, in middle school, you know. Nothing serious.” Shota wonders if any of those dates were with boys. Or if he’s ever kissed anyone. His mouth goes dry. 

“You okay, Sho? You look pale,” he says, leaning in. His glasses tip down and Shota can see the green in his eyes, the concern. Shota recoils. 

“I’m fine. Good luck with your might-be-date.” The words taste like vinegar. They probably sound like it too but he can barely hear himself through his own pulse slamming against his ears. Hizashi’s eyebrows scrunch with worry, or… confusion? His eyes are so intense that Shota has to hide his face before it breaks, before he breaks. Hizashi’s about to say something else but Fuji sensei stomps into the room, gruffer than usual. 

“Great job on the rescue simulation yesterday. As professional heroes, you will most likely be taking on larger roles during a disaster situation, which you will have the opportunity to practice eventually. But the exercise yesterday was good practice for civilian contact and prioritization.” He coughs and shuffles through his notes. “Today you will be taking turns capturing villains. I will go over the details more once you all change and meet at the training grounds outside.” 

Shota and Hizashi don’t speak much in the locker room. The blond undresses quickly with his back facing Shota, hardly looking his way at all. Strange, he’s never seemed self conscious before, even after the bath situation. Shota tries to shrug it off and pulls his jumpsuit on just as quickly. 

“Man, I hope we get paired together today,” Hizashi says, facing him now that he’s fully clothed. “I get why Fiji Sensei separates us but we could make a good team if he’d just let us try.” 

“Maybe we’d be too good together. I erase their quirk and you blow them away. It’s too predictable.” 

“True. Still, it might help relieve this tension between us,” he says, motioning between them. 

“Tension? Please, you’re just in your head again,” Shota says, defensively. 

“I don’t know. You seemed weirded out by me hanging with Yuki later. And I still feel like you’re not over our little fight yesterday. Like, we hardly even talked about it.” Bitterness floods back into Shota’s stomach, he tightens his lips to refrain from speaking but the words spill out anyway.  

“You’re not my boyfriend, Hizashi. You can date whoever you want. I just don’t see what you and Yuki have in common. That’s all.” He regrets the words as soon as he says them. Hizashi removes his glasses and glares at him. 

“Yeah? And what do we have in common? Also, quit throwing the boyfriend thing in my face! You already made your point!” He turns on his heel and storms out, a couple of heads turning as he leaves. 

“Fuck! What is wrong with me?” Shota argues with himself. Pressure builds behind his eyes as he follows him out, ignoring his classmates as they watch him. He looks around frantically outside but Hizashi is already out of sight. There’s footsteps behind him. Ito slaps a hand on his shoulder and spins him around to face him. 

“Dude, you have got to learn how to communicate. Can’t you see that you’re hurting him?” 

Tears sting in his eyes. He blinks them away quickly and shakes the boy’s hand off. Ito keeps talking. 

“You should know, Yuki is just a distraction! I told him not to do anything stupid but we both know how impulsive he can be.” 

“What makes you think I care about Yuki?” He says, already breaking away from the silver-haired boy. 

Ito shouts as he walks away, “Get him alone, Aizawa! Talk to him soon before you both mess this up!” 

When Shota finally finds Hizashi at the training grounds, Fuji Sensi is already going over the instructions. He nudges the taller boy to get his attention. But all he gets is a sideways glance from behind his glasses.  

“As pro heroes, much of your job in the city will be catching villains and making sure they get to the police, alive and in one piece. I’ll be splitting you all up for two on two battles. Both teams will be trying to capture the other at the same time, by any means necessary so be creative. Once your opponent is restrained, they must be unable to break free for two minutes to be considered a win for your team. Each battle will have thirty minutes to complete the challenge.” This is right up his alley. He should be excited but all he can think about is the boy beside him, the boy he hurt. He grabs him by the bicep and pleads with him. 

“Hizashi, I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is lately. I just want things to go back to normal between us.” The blond ducks his head and sighs. 

“I want that too, Sho. We can talk about it later though. Fuji’s about to list off teams.” He shakes Shota off and turns his attention back to their teacher, who’s begun listing off students in pairs but Shota hardly listens until his own name is called. 

“Shota Aizawa and Hana Yuki against Ryuji Koboyashi and Hizashi Yamada.” Hizashi turns fully towards him, worry creased between his brows. 

Shota rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to play nice.” 

“Hell, I’m worried about myself. Your guy’s quirks are actually perfect for this,” he laughs. Some of the pressure falls off of Shota’s chest. It feels so good to hear him laugh.

Hizashi and Koboyashi take their positions somewhere out of sight in the city. Shota eyes Yuki up and down, straightening his posture as if it’ll assert some dominance over the small girl. He hates the way her costume clings to her curvy body. And though their hair is quite similar, he decides that her face is much cuter than his own. Hizashi would look good with a girl like her, someone pretty and extroverted. Though, he assumes that’s where their compatibility ends. 

“Yoooo, Earth to Eraserhead!” Yuki snaps her fingers in his face, startling him from his imagination. “So what’s our plan here? I’d say we actually have a fire shot against those two.”  

Shota breathes in fully, remembering how he promised Hizashi that he would be nice. He releases as much hatred as he possibly can in one long exhale and starts brainstorming. “Hizashi and Koboyashi are most likely going to be hiding out somewhere, to avoid your Freeze-Frame and my Erasure. All you have to do is freeze them and I can tie them up no problem. So our biggest struggle is actually finding the two of them in this city.” 

“True. Koboyashi can shrink and make himself hard to find. But Mic shouldn’t be too difficult, especially if he uses his quirk,” Yuki says. 

“Alright so let's start looking, I guess,” Shota mumbles, taking long strides ahead of her. 

They jog between buildings and up and down steps without saying a word to each other. By the time they make it back to the main road, he’s feeling incredibly awkward. He wants to ask about her plans with Hizashi but he’s afraid of letting the resentment back in after it finally died down. Though, the question must be written across his face because she brings it up first. 

“Has Hizashi told you about our date later?” She says, emphasizing the word “date” with a pop of her hip. Electricity pricks at Shota’s nervous system. “Did she just call him Hizashi? It took me months to earn that right!”

He scoffs, trying to keep his voice level, “Is that what it is? Are you sure he knows it’s a date ?” 

She spins around to face him, walking backwards. “Uhhhh yeah! A boy and a girl going out, alone together? Sounds a lot like a date to me, don’t ya think?” She sticks her chin up high, trying to make herself seem taller. Shota’s cheeks burn at the way she emphasizes “boy and girl.” Does she know that Hizashi likes boys too? Does he still? 

Yuki trips backwards on a large crack in the ground and smacks her head on the cement. Shota tucks his face into his scarf, stifling a laugh. 

“Never mind that,” he says, still grinning from her fall. “This place is way too big to find them if they’re hiding. Maybe we should wait for them to come to us.” 

Yuki climbs to her feet, rubbing the back of her head. “You know, I don’t need to physically see my subject to freeze them. I just have to picture them in my mind. But do you think Sensei would count that as a capture if they aren’t anywhere near us? Or if they aren’t actually restrained?” 

Shota scratches his chin, “That… is really good to know. I’m not sure actually. What if we draw them out of hiding? We could pretend to be distracted by faking an argument or something.”

She clicks her tongue. “Sounds like you just wanna argue. And those two will likely get impatient so if we just stay in one place I’m sure they’ll come to us before the timer runs out.” 

Shota considers this. “Good point. We’re already out in the open. We can just wait here in the street.” Yuki nods and kneels on the ground, facing the opposite direction of Shota. He stays standing. 

A few moments of silence pass between them and she speaks again, quieter this time. “Does he know?” 

Shota rolls his eyes. “Does he know what?” 

She doesn’t look at him. “That you’re like, totally in love with him?” Panic pours into his bloodstream like poison. He doesn’t say anything. 

“I don’t want to step on your toes but I like him too. And if you aren’t gonna make a move, then I at least have to try.” 

“What makes you think I’m in love with him?” His voice falters the second half of the question. 

“For one, you look at him like he holds up the sun in your sky. And two, everyone saw how you acted after the incident a few days ago. If you’re going to be a hero, you’ve got to be a  little more composed than that.”

Shota pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the sting in his eyes to vanish. It doesn’t. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s sick of lying, to himself, to everyone else, and especially Hizashi. Tears trickle down his cheeks and he wipes them away with his sleeve. 

“Hizashi is the sun in my sky.” He says nothing else. She says nothing in return. 

Suddenly the ground starts to shake, as if something massive is walking towards them. 

“Koboyashi.” They say in unison and Yuki pounces to her feet. They look around for the source of the noise but see no one. If Koboyashi increased his size to match those footsteps, they should be able to see him. 

“I’m going to freeze him, just to be safe.” She puts her fingers to her forehead and pictures him. The ground keeps shaking. 

Shota realizes quickly what’s going on, “It’s Mic! He’s mimicking Koboyashi’s quirk!” 

“YYYYYYEEEEEAAAHHHHHHHHHAAHAHAH!!!” 

The force of Hizashi’s quirk blows both of them off their feet. The noise stops as soon as it starts, Yuki has frozen Hizashi now, which means Koboyashi can be anywhere. Shota feels two massive hands gripping around his body, pinning his arms in place so he can’t move. “Shit! He must’ve been hiding in the cracks!” Shota erases his quirk instantly and the boy shrinks down to his size. He swings a leg around his knees, knocking him off balance but the boy takes Shota down with him. Shota tries to grapple with him but his grip is strong around his arms and torso. Yuki freezes Koboyashi and Shota finally wriggles himself free. He’s about to tie him up with his capture weapon but Hizashi’s quirk knocks him off kilter again. 

“Yuki you have to focus on Mic! I can’t do anything about him if I can’t see him!” She nods and the screaming stops. “I’ll take care of this one! You go find Mic!” 

“Got it!” She sprints in the direction of his voice quirk. Shota never takes his eyes off the burly boy in front of him. He tries to lunge at him but Shota’s quicker on his feet. He dodges swiftly, kicking him square in the back and pouncing on top of him. He clasps the boy's hands behind his back, tying them tight with his binding cloth. Koboyashi manages to roll Shota off of him, kicking upward and trying to get to his feet. Shota knocks him down again. 

“I’m ready for this to be over so just cooperate,” he spits behind gritted teeth, throwing the remaining length of his cloth around the other student’s legs. 

“Alright, alright! I’m done. Good fight Aizawa,” he groans, allowing his head to fall back against the pavement. “This is like... wayyy embarrassing though. Mind sitting me upright?” 

Shouta smiles sadistically, “You do look pretty pathetic down there.” He pulls him up by the front of his shirt. 

Yuki calls out from a distance, indicating that she must’ve found Hizashi’s hiding spot. Shota glances back at his classmate, bound by his hands and legs and wonders if it’s safe to leave him alone. 

“Sorry for this,” he says and pushes Koboyashi backwards again. 

“HEY MAN! WHAT FOR?” He tries to argue but Shota’s already fast on his feet to find Yuki.

He locates her on the first story of a building nearby. Hizashi is frozen, crouched next to a window with his directional speaker in one hand. His mouth is open as if he were just screaming, but the corners of his lips are turned up into a smile. 

Yuki places her hands on her hips. “I can’t move him once he’s frozen. Do you have a way to restrain him once I unfreeze him? You can erase his quirk and I can slow his movements so he doesn’t get away.” 

“I have handcuffs on my utility belt.” He unclasps the cuffs from his belt and takes position right next to the voice hero. Slowly, Hizashi’s figure begins to move. His eyes are wide as Shota grabs both of his arms and restrains them behind his back with the handcuffs. He holds him steady by the arms and nods to Yuki, indicating that she can release her quirk. As soon as she does, Hizashi hooks his leg around Shota’s, trying to knock him over. Yuki freezes him again and Shota unlinks his leg from the blond’s. He looks around for something in the environment to tie around his legs and spots a landline on a nearby counter. He breaks the cord from the phone and wraps it around Hizashi’s ankles.  

“Alright, unfreeze him. Hopefully the fight is out of him now,” he says, readying himself for action. She does as she’s told and Shota yanks the end of the phone cord, pulling Hizashi’s legs together as soon as he’s able to move. He yelps, falling forward to the ground but Shota catches him before impact. 

“Man, I knew this was a tough matchup! You two are unstoppable together,” Hizashi beams. Shota hoists the blond up over his shoulder. Yuki runs over to meet him. 

“We liked your little trick, Yamada. Did you mimic Koboyashi’s footsteps with your quirk?” 

“Yamada?” Shota’s eyebrows twitch, “Maybe they aren’t as close as she let on.” 

Hizashi laughs and Shota can feel the vibration against his back. “Pretty neat right? I just shook the ground with my quirk. That way you’d freeze Koboyashi instead of me! Figured it'd spare be another second.”

Shota adjusts the boy on his shoulder, knocking the wind out of him a little bit. “Considering your odds, you guys did put up a fair fight.” 

“Yeah, but you never really did have a chance,” Yuki adds, amusement in her tone. 

“True, true. We couldn’t just roll over though.” He squirms in Shota’s grip. “Pick up the pace Sho-chan! I’m getting claustrophobic like this!” Shota’s cheeks heat up at the nickname and he sets Hizashi down on the ground, cutting his legs free of the phone cord. The game is over anyway so he doesn’t need to remain captured. He unlocks the handcuffs and the blond sprawls out dramatically on the concrete. Shota’s eyes dart to the sliver of skin between his shirt and belt as he stretches arms up above him. 

“Alright let's get to Koboyashi before he freaks!” He springs to his feet and bolts outside, leaving Shota and Yuki alone again. Hizashi’s absence already makes him feel hollow. 

She elbows him, her entire face is pinched. “Sho-chan? Really? Do I even stand a chance?” 

He curls in a little bit, closer to her height. “I don’t know. But… I won’t stop you from trying. It’s not fair to Hizashi.” His hair falls over his eyes. 

Outside, Hizashi has already untied Koboyashi. He beams proudly, wearing the capture weapon around his neck. 

“So you two got along, I take it?” He strokes a piece of cloth between his fingertips.

Yuki lets out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, yeah. He gave me his blessing and all.” 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow and locks eyes with Shota. “Oh? What for?” Shota shrugs, a twinge of victory settling into his abdomen. Maybe he really doesn’t see it as a date. Hizashi falls into step beside Shota, their two classmates a few meters behind them. 

“Are we good now, Hizashi? I really don’t wanna argue anymore," Shota asks, a wave of exhaustion washing over him. 

“Sure buddy. We’re good.” There’s something in his voice that Shota can’t quite place. He frowns, flinging an arm around his neck. 

“I’ve been a real jerk to you. And I’m so sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you, okay!” Hizashi doesn’t respond. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to one-up your date with Yuki. Cat-cafe maybe? Arcade?” 

His smile finally reaches his eyes. “Why don’t you sleep over again? This time I’ll actually be awake to remember it!” 

“A date in your bed? Yeah that’ll show her up for sure.” He claps a hand over his mouth. Did I say that out loud? Hizashi tips his face into the binding cloth but Shota can still see that his ears have gone red. He peeks over his shoulder at Yuki, who looks like she might implode. His face splits into a shit eating grin and he pulls his best friend just a little closer, claiming him, even just for now. Hesitantly, Hizashi wraps his arm around Shota’s middle and own body heats up at the gesture. One last look at Hizashi's face, still half hidden inside the scarf but the corners of his eyes crinkle like he's smiling and it fills Shota with a sense of luck he's never felt before. He tells himself, quietly in the back of his mind, "Maybe I do have a chance." 

Chapter Text

Hizashi's POV

Acutely aware of his friend’s arm around his neck, Hizashi’s face was hot inside Shota’s capture weapon. He inhaled his scent, sweat and dirt and… lavender? Shota’s words rang inside his brain, “A date in your bed? That’ll one up her for sure. ” What did he mean by that? Was he joking? Was he just making up for the hurtful things he said earlier? Shota pulls him in closer. Hizashi wraps an arm around his middle, unconsciously gripping the muscle beneath his jumpsuit. Greed swirls in his lower abdomen, dripping down to his groin. Fuck . He releases Shota, clenching the fabric of his clothing one last time before retrieving his hand. 

They meet up with the rest of the class in time for the next battle to begin. Yuki joins him at his side. Right… Yuki. They’re supposed to hang out after school. Still drunk on Shota’s scent, he barely registers what she says next. 

“You guys did really great today, Yamada. Where do you wanna go later? Cozy Bean or Leaf Tavern? I hear Cozy Bean has better coffee if that’s what you like.” 

“Huh? Oh uh, Cozy Bean! It’s closer and I prefer coffee. Is that cool with you?” 

“Ha! As if you need coffee! You’re already so energetic.” She leans in flirtatiously, locking her fingers together behind her back. 

“I like the bold taste actually. And my parents drink it a lot so I just got used to it I guess.” He wonders how Shota takes his coffee. His eyes drift over to the other boy but he’s walked off closer to the battle screen. Everyone seems to be watching him. He wants to listen in on what they’re whispering about but Yuki presses on.

“Cozy Bean it is then! I went there once and they have a really nice dining room. With plush seats and intimate lighting.” She brushes against his arm. He flinches. 

“How come everyone’s staring at Shota? Did something happen during our battle?” Her smile slips but she corrects it immediately. 

“They’re probably scared of him, that’s all. We totally kicked your asses.” Hizashi can tell she’s lying but it doesn’t matter. He’ll just ask Shota later. 

By the end of the training period, only half of the students have finished up their turn. So Hizashi will be spectating tomorrow too. He says goodbye to Yuki and follows the boys into the locker room. He showers beside Shota, careful not to get his hair wet. Date or no date, he doesn’t want to look sloppy when he hangs out with Yuki later. He keeps his vision forward, straining not to peek at the teen next to him but still, he swears he can feel when Shota’s eyes are on him. He rinses off quickly before his imagination can get the best of him. Towel wrapped around his waist, he goes to change next to Ito, who shakes his head distastefully. 

“What now, bro?” Hizashi groans.

Ito whispers loudly, “You know what , dude! I told you not to be weird with Yuki until you knew where you stand with you-know-who!” 

Hizashi matches his hushed voice. “Uhhhh, I do know where I stand with thou-who-shall-not-be-named! And anyway, it’s not a date. We’re just hangin’.” Ito smacks him with his wet towel. 

“You sure about that, Yamada? Cause I feel like you’re dangerously close to fucking this up big time!” 

“Fucking what up, man? It’s just coffee!” Hizashi rubs his backside, tender from where Ito hit him. The silver-haired teen huffs. 

“Tread lightly, dude. Don’t lead her on.” He dresses quickly, snatching his backpack and leaving without him. Hizashi almost follows him out but he’s not dressed yet. 

“Ouch. What was that about?” Shota pokes at the red spot where Ito hit him. Hizashi’s skin prickles and he steps back, heat rising in on his neck. 

“Who knows? He’s naggin’ at me about my date later, I guess.” Shota quirks an eyebrow. 

“So it is a date?” 

“Well, she thinks so anyway. Whatever.” His eyes linger on the water dripping from his hair onto his well-muscled chest. His towel sits low on his hips, exposing a dark line of hair that yanks at the edges of Hizashi’s perverted mind. He dresses quickly, adjusting the hard angle in his pants with his back against the dark-haired teen. 

“She likes you. Do you like her?” Shota asks, a calmness in his voice that wasn’t there this morning. What the hell did they talk about during their training today?

Hizashi sighs. “I mean she’s cute, you know? And I had fun texting her last night too. I’m not sure if there’s any chemistry between us but I guess I’ll just see where this goes.” He’s not lying. Yuki has a good face. She has a nice athletic body and her hair is really pretty, kinda like Shota’s now that he thinks about it. Dark and curly. Shota hums in response, drying his hair with the towel -and fuck Hizashi wishes he would just get dressed already. 

“‘Kay, my pants are on. You can turn around now, weirdo.” He says, eyeing him beneath his bangs. Hizashi glares at him, swallowing a mouthful of drool.

The rest of the day passes in a flash. Hizashi doodles in his sketchbook, retaining almost nothing from his later classes. He will just have to catch up by skimming through his textbook when he gets home. Shota’s already packed up when the final bell rings. 

“FaceTime me later. Tell me how your date goes.” There’s an edge to his tone, but he doesn’t seem as annoyed as he was earlier. Hizashi still wonders what’s changed since training this morning. He was quiet during lunch too. Maybe winning the capture contest put his mind at ease a little bit. Hizashi is relieved for him, even at his own expense. 

Yuki finds him in the hallway outside of class, smiling wide. 

“Ready, Yamada?” She pokes at his ribs. 

“Uh, YEAH!” He plasters on the biggest grin he can. They walk to the cafe together, gossiping about people in their class. Yuki knows a lot about everyone. Hizashi missed out on a lot of drama since he’s started spending so much time with Shota. They make it to Cozy Bean and shed their backpacks in a booth by the window. The cafe is cute, with dim lighting and soft, jazzy music playing in the background. He inhales deeply through his nose, filling his lungs with espresso and mint. Hizashi orders a large black coffee and Yuki gets a lavender latte. 

“Black coffee? I don’t know why, but I always pictured you with a sweet tooth,” She says, slurping the froth from her mug. 

“Keeps me in shape I guess,” he says, taking a long swig of his drink. The heat feels good going down his throat. Truth is, he’s tired. He barely slept last night worrying about his argument with Shota yesterday.

“As if! I bet you couldn’t gain weight if you tried!” She laughs. A harmless remark, but it irks him anyway. He knows he’s skinny. And he has to be really conscious about his eating. He used to forget to eat or drink, sucked into whatever project he’s into at any given moment. But since being in the hero course, he tends to eat quickly and forcefully. Bulking up his macros all at once in case he forgets later on in the day. 

“You know who does have a sweet tooth? Shota! You wouldn’t picture it right?” He smiles around his mug, resting his teeth on the rim.

She kicks him lightly under the table. “Maybe that’s why he spends so much time with you. Cause you’re so sweet!” Hizashi blushes. Is he sweet? He doesn’t really think so. 

She sips at her drink, grimacing from the heat. A bit of froth collects on her upper lip and she licks it off playfully. “ Man, she is cute, ” he thinks. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ears, the same way Shota does. He shakes the thought from his head. 

“So how did you do on Fuji’s written exam last week?” She asks, “You seem to perform well on the practical side of things.” 

“I got ninety-eight percent actually! His class is no sweat! How did you do?” Her eyes widened.

 “I got an eighty-two. I’m surprised, honestly. You seem so distracted during class. How do you hold up so well?” He gleams, pride welling up in his chest. 

“I listen of course! It’s way easier if my hands are busy. And I fill in any knowledge gaps at home by reading the textbook.” He tips back in his seat, feeling cocky.

“I thought Shimishu was the only one who actually read the textbook. Maybe I should give it a try.” She leans in curiously. “Or maybe you could read it to me, given you like to talk so much.” Hizashi swigs his coffee again. 

“Um, maybe,” he mumbles between sips. “But you’ll have to really pay attention!” 

“You draw a lot don’t you? Can I look through your sketchbook?” She asks, pulling her mug in close. 

“SURE!” Critical as he can be, Hizashi actually loves showing off his artwork. He whips his sketchbook from his backpack, sliding it over to her. She flips through the pages, eager to know more about the boy across the table. Some are filled with black ink. Others are crinkled with acrylic or watercolor and magazine clippings or loose pencil outlines. She touches everything, as if the meaning behind each image will be absorbed through her finger tips. She pauses near the end. 

“Is this Aizawa? There’s a lot of him in here…” She gulps her drink, probably cooled off by now. Hizashi’s face heats up and he laces his fingers together, resisting the urge to snatch the notebook back. 

“Yeah, he’s always kinda in front of me, yanno? Sometimes it’s easier to draw what I see. Good practice, using live reference, I mean.” Not entirely true. He can draw Shota with his eyes closed. Hell he could probably do it with his hands behind his back too, from any angle. Sometimes he struggles to draw anything besides Shota, even ripping some pages out so the Shota to Non-Shota drawings seem more proportionate. 

“Hmm.” She leans back against the booth, eyeing him carefully. “So draw me. Right now.” She fixes her hair, tousling it playfully. Hizashi raises his eyebrows. She does look good. 

“Oh! Uh, okay.” He digs out a ballpoint pen from his bag and takes his sketchbook back, glancing around the room. It’s mostly empty. He pulls a chair over to their booth and sits down in it, giving himself a more interesting angle of the girl in front of him. “So like, lean against the window. Try to look candid.” She tries doing as he says, looking totally not candid what-so-ever. 

“Okay, don’t look at me.” He digs in his bag for a prop she can hold and pulls out a volume of manga, handing it to her. “Read this. Like, actually read it. I want to see you look natural.” 

She giggles and takes the book, finally settling into a comfortable position against the window. Hizashi props a foot against the booth she’s on and gets to sketching. The silence between them grows cold, like there’s a tension neither of them had noticed until they stopped talking. 

“So why did you join the hero course?” He asks, trying to lift the mood. She smiles into the comic book.

“Everyone wants to be a hero, Yamada. Only difference between us and everyone else is that we actually tried and got in!” 

Unsatisfied, he presses on. “Yeah but everyone has their own personal reasons. Some people do it for money and fame. Others do it to make a difference in society. Some people do it to prove themselves.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ceiling thoughtfully. “I think most of us have multiple reasons. I think above all, I did it because I thought it would be fun. Sorry I don’t have any super noble reason behind it. But that may change as I get older.” She shrugs. He smiles at that. He does a lot of things for the sake of having a good time. 

“I like that. More people should try things out of curiosity. They’d be surprised with where it could take them.” 

“Why do you wanna be a hero Yamada? You’re good with a crowd. Do you do it for recognition or something?” His grin widens and he scribbles a little faster. 

“I didn’t join the course for fame if that’s what you’re thinking.” He tips his chair back playfully. “Recognition for me is inevitable. I have a lot to say and an entire world to say it to. My voice will reach an audience no matter what career path I take.” He knows he sounds cocky but it’s just true. “But I wanted to be a hero to kind of, redeem myself I guess?” 

She quirks an eyebrow. “Redeem yourself? What do you mean?” 

“So like, my parents are both deaf you know? My quirk manifested as a baby and I blew out their eardrums more times than they can count.” She scooches closer from the booth. 

“Oh God, Yamada! I’m so sorry!” 

“HEY HEY! Back in position, Yuke-ster. I'm not done yet.” He motions dramatically towards the window. She smiles sweetly and sinks back into her original pose.

 “And no no, it’s not some major tragedy… anymore, you know? My parents have adapted well and they don’t resent me for it. And I wasn’t even old enough to remember when they could still hear. But still, I carried a lot of guilt up until my teen years. And it totally sucked, like that’s not helping anyone at all! So I figured if I could become a hero with my dangerous quirk then I could actually make it useful! I don’t want to be ashamed of something I was born with. And I don’t want my parents to have lost their hearing for nothing. That’s why I wanna be a hero! To make my quirk something I can feel proud of!”

She says nothing for a minute and Hizashi wonders if he overshared too much too soon. Then she smirks, kicking his shoe with her shoe. “Damn Yamada, when you put it that way it just makes your plan last week seem even more reckless.” He laughs loudly, enough to turn a few heads in the room. As if given permission, she laughs too.

“I'm honestly surprised. You seem so… spontaneous sometimes. But really, you must put a lot of thought into everything you do. Unlike me, I feel like I just stumble into every decision in my life and end up where I end up, you know? Guess I can be a little simple-minded.” Hizashi’s eyes flicker to hers, then he continues to sketch. He’s gotten her figure down and is now working on the details of her face. 

“Nothing wrong with that! I bet you have incredible instincts. Kinda funny though, with your time-slowing quirk you could free up a ton of thinking time.” 

“Sometimes the flow of time forces you to make a decision. Maybe it’s better that I’m more on the careless side. Too much time to think and you won’t move forward at all.” 

Hizashi studies her face closely. “I definitely wouldn’t call you simple minded.” She holds up his manga to hide her smile. The tension between them has nearly dissipated. Still, she bites her lip, like there’s a question she’s afraid to ask. 

“So, how did you and Aizawa become such close friends? You two are like night and day.” He rolls his eyes. 

“I thought he needed a friend,” he shrugs. 

“Sounds a little one-sided.” She mumbles, cautiously. A hole opens up in Hizashi’s stomach. Is that what people think? He takes a sip of cold coffee, squinting over the rim of his mug. 

“That’s not true at all. I admire him, really. He’s incredibly smart! And wise too! And unlike you and I, you never really know what he’s thinking. It makes you want to get to know him more, like, you can never know enough about him. He’s just… fascinating.” 

“He’s abrasive,” she spits abruptly. 

“True. But it’s mostly on the outside. He can be a real softy when you catch him in the right lighting. And when you do break through that prickly exterior, it makes you feel extra good. Like you earned it . I guess it keeps me coming back for more, you know?” Heat rises up his neck, filling the pit in his stomach. He’s probably said too much. 

Yuki stares at him, mouth pressed into a small line. He can’t remember when she stopped smiling. “Do you love him, Yamada?” 

Hizashi’s pen stops moving. He answers indecisively, “Uh… yeah. I mean he’s my best friend. I haven’t known him for long but it feels like I do.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” She pulls her knees in, making herself even smaller. He doesn’t know what to say. He looks down at his drawing, nearly finished. He tears the page from his sketchbook and hands it to her. She accepts it, allowing her hair to fall over her eyes while she examines it. 

“Thank you, it really is beautiful.” She digs a folder out from her backpack and slides the picture in carefully. “I should get going now. I have to go help my parents around the house.” 

“Oh, uh. Want me to walk you home?” Hizashi asks, stuffing the sketchbook into his bag and making room for her to slide out from the booth.

“No, you don’t have to. I had fun hanging out with you though. We should do this again, as friends. ” He tugs at his earlobe, feeling kind of awkward but mostly relieved. 

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday then.” He fakes a smile. She nudges him with her shoulder. 

“And what I said earlier, about the flow of time. Wait too long Yamada and your moment will pass. You should tell Aizawa how you really feel.” Hizashi doesn’t say anything. She downs the rest of her drink and walks out the door. It jingles shut behind her. He gulps down the last of his coffee and pulls out his phone, shooting Shota a quick text. 

Date was kind of a bust. She just wants to be friends. 

What are you up to? 

Shota responds immediately. 

Training with Kayama. I’ll call when I get home. 

Hizashi raises an eyebrow. He didn’t think they hung out outside of the rooftop. Warmth spreads throughout his chest at the idea of his two friends spending time together, and… nervousness? Kayama knows better than anyone about Hizashi's crush. That and they have a brief history together. He’s not sure why he hasn’t told Shota about it yet. He hopes Kayama won’t spill anything that he isn’t ready to share. Shoving the thought aside, he focuses on the warmth. It's good for Shota to have friends outside of him. 

Still, I hope he calls soon. He tucks his phone away, Yuki's words swimming in the back of his mind, about the flow of time. He considers going back up to the school to see what his friends are up to, then changes his mind. If Shota was serious about having another sleep over soon then he should probably clean his room.  

Chapter Text

 Shota’s POV

Shota goes straight to the gym after school, feeling far too restless to take his usual nap at home. He jogs around the track a few times to clear his head, then practices throwing his binding cloth at one of the dummies he found in storage. So far he’s only been able to use his capture weapon up close, but training today could’ve gone a lot smoother if he knew how to seize his target from a distance. He hurls it at the dummy again and again but the cloth refuses to latch, falling loosely to the ground after making contact. He grits his teeth, frustrated and unable to concentrate. His mind keeps flashing back to Hizashi and his date. Yuki seemed to think of Shota as some sort of competition, but he can’t be certain. The image of Hizashi wearing his binding cloth earlier never leaves his mind, especially the way his ears flushed when he joked about one-upping his date. 

Could Hizashi like him back? Considering how the blond could hardly face him in the locker room earlier, Shota decides he might be getting ahead of himself. He hurls his weapon again, missing the target entirely.  

“Dammit!” He chucks the remainder of cloth at the ground and wipes his calloused hands off on his tracksuit. Worked up and pissed off, he stomps over to his belongings and chugs half of his sports drink in three giant gulps. He checks his phone, no messages. Hizashi and Yuki must be really hitting it off if he’s too busy to text him. He scrolls through his contacts, wishing he had someone else to talk to. His thumb hovers over Kayama’s contact but they’ve never really spoken outside of lunch period, and especially without Hizashi as a mediator. He sucks in a breath and taps on her contact, desperately needing a friend, one that he’s not in love with. 

He texts her, short and to the point. 

It’s Shota Aizawa. Are you still on campus? 

(Kayama)

I was just getting ready to leave. 

Why? What’s up?

Yamada with you?

(Aizawa)

He’s on a date

Meet me in the gym? I need help with something. 

(Kayama)

WHAT?

Be right there!

She shows up five minutes later in a beige trench coat and not much else.

“Is that your hero costume? Where’s the rest of it?” He tucks in his chin, scanning over her outfit with distaste. 

“This is all of it! Practical isn’t it? Bold, elegant and perfect for my quirk!” She strikes a feminine pose, either completely oblivious or completely in spite of Shota’s sass. “So what’s up with you? You said Yamada’s on a date right now? With who?” 

“A girl in our class, Hana Yuki. They’re at a cafe right now.” 

She examines her nails indifferently. “Don’t know her. So what are you still doing here after hours?” 

He gestures over to his capture weapon, a tangled mound on the floor next to a notably uncaptured dummy. “Trying to lasso that dummy but I can’t quite get the hang of it. So far my capture weapon serves as a dull accessory and not much else.”

She springs to her feet. “I can help you! I use my whip as a lasso all the time for capturing enemies!” He notices the rope hanging from her utility belt. 

Kayama trots over to the dummy, tying a small knot at the end of the rope and waving it high above her head, lassoing her target perfectly on the first try. Then she retrieves the rope and does it two more times. Shota watches her in awe. 

She beams at him, securing the whip back to her hip in one swift motion. “Well, let's see the dull accessory in action!” 

He lowers his brow, picking up the cloth and chucking the end of it towards the dummy. It makes brief contact before floating gracefully to the ground, practically mocking him. He snaps towards Kayama, embarrassed and ready to drop the idea entirely. “It’s always like this. My binding cloth is so lightweight that it’s hard to control the end of it when I throw.” 

“Binding cloth, huh? We must be more alike than I realized.” She winks at him, holding her hands so she can try. Ignoring her comment, he scoops the remaining cloth from around his neck and plops it into her open arms. She ties a loop at the end of it and hurls it at the dummy. It catches, but barely. 

“You’re right, the cloth is too light to gather any real momentum. You need some extra weight at the end of it. My whip is stiff at the tip so that it can hold its shape when I throw it. Adds extra sting too!” 

She hands it back to him and he loops it over his head. “So what do I do? Should I take it back to the support team? They made it lightweight so that it’s more compatible with my quirk.” 

She tips her head. “What do you mean compatible?” 

Shota activates his quirk. Cool air wicks away sweat as his hair lifts off his neck. His capture weapon floats loosely around his face in ribbons. 

“Woah! That’s amazing! You almost look like Yamada with your hair up like that! How does it work?” 

He blinks and the cloth feathers down around his shoulders. “Using my quirk increases my brain wave activity, creating a static effect on my hair and the conductive material that my scarf is made of. If I ever get the hang of this damn thing, it should aid with maneuverability.” 

“Do you think adding some weights to the end of it will affect how it floats around you?” 

He rubs his chin. “As long as they use a similar material, I doubt it. I can ask them about it tomorrow.” 

“Good! In the meantime let’s improvise.” She jogs over to her backpack and digs out a deck of playing cards. She secures the card deck to one end of the binding cloth tightly with an elastic band hidden up her sleeve. “Okay, try it now.” 

He does as he’s told and throws the weighted end of the cloth towards the dummy, blowing out sharply when it finally latches. 

“Woohoo! I’m a genius!” Kayama chants, shadow boxing the air next to Shota. He rolls his eyes and tries again, succeeding a second time. Elation bubbles up inside of him, spilling from his lips in a barely audible giggle. He smacks a hand to his mouth immediately.

“Awww that was adorable! I can totally see what Yamada’s on about all the time!” 

He snaps his neck to face her, “What do you mean by that?” 

“Ah, nothin’.” She waves him off. “But I am curious, about why he’s hangin’ out with some girl and leaving you here by yourself?” 

“I’m not by myself. You’re with me.” He pouts. “And he didn’t seem all that into her. Though, I tend to misread these kinds of things.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” 

He examines the floor tile beneath him, picking at a loose thread on his capture weapon. “So Hizashi talks about me when I’m not around?” 

She dips her head forward, stifling a laugh.  “Aizawa, I think you’re basically all he talks about, ever, anytime. If I’m not mistaken, he used to have actual interests before he met you. He totally admires you!” 

Shota’s heart throbs inside his chest, almost too big to carry. He’s half certain he could levitate right now if he really tried. Still, feeling stupid and always cautious, he tacks on, “Like… admires me as a friend?” 

His right asscheek stings like it’s been bitten, then it spreads into a scorching welt by the time he realizes that Kayama had just whipped him. 

“Sure Aizawa, he’s obsessed with you as a friend. Why don’t you just ask him how he feels?” 

His heart is officially too big to fit inside his ribcage. Hizashi’s obsessed with him? Surely that’s an overstatement. 

Breathy, as if he’d been kicked in the lungs, he asks, “So what do I do about it? How do I bring it up? I mean he’s on a date with someone else as we speak!” 

“Yeah, that girl with the exact same haircut as you. I wouldn’t worry about her,” Kayama quips.

“You said you didn’t know her!” 

“Not personally, no. But we follow each other on social media.” She pulls out her phone and scrolls to Yuki’s page. “Yamada definitely has a type.” 

She clicks on a recent story post and it’s Hizashi, sitting casually across from her with his legs propped up on the edge of the booth, sketchbook in hand. He almost always smiles in photos but here his attention seems to be entirely on the notebook in his lap. She must've taken this photo without him knowing. He looks really handsome. Jealousy claws up his abdomen, trying to wedge its way into his overcrowded chest cavity.  

“Has Hizashi posted anything about her?” Shota’s eyes flick nervously to Kayama, feeling obvious. He doesn’t have social media. But he’s considered downloading it a few times mostly just to stare at pictures of his best friend. However the remaining crumb of rationality left in his brain has kept him from doing so. 

“Um, I don’t think so. Let me see. Uh, no he hasn’t.” 

Shota looms over her shoulder, practically drinking in all the selfies on his profile. 

“You’re gonna get drool on my costume, you beast!” She lunges away from him. He tips his face inside his scarf and swallows. She has a point. 

“I've just never seen his page before other than when he has something to show me.” 

“No one’s stopping you from making an account. And if you just wanna stalk him you could literally just ask him to send you any picture you want. Yamada is incredibly vain.” 

“And rightfully so. If I had access to his social media page then I think I'd start failing school. Hell, I’d probably print out his entire album and cover my bedroom and shower with him." Kayama instinctively takes a step back, squinting at him like some pervert. 

“I’m joking Kayama, obviously."

“Obviously? Good God, you really have to work on your delivery! I almost pepper sprayed you.” She laughs freely, shaking her whole body. Somehow Shota doesn’t take offense. He hides his own tiny smile behind his scarf, relieved to finally share what’s been weighing so heavily on him for months, and also to just joke around with someone other than Hizashi. 

He decides that without any modification to his capture weapon, he should wrap up his training for today. He checks his phone for the first time since Kayama met up with him and his mood lifts even higher. 

(Hizashi)

Date was kind of a bust. She just wants to be friends.  

“What are you cheesin’ about?” Kayama crowds into his personal space trying to read the text. He allows her to read it, squeezing the phone firmly in his grip just in case she tries to snatch it from him. “HA! I LITERALLY TOLD YOU! So what are you gonna do about it, huh? How are you gonna secure your man?” 

His man. The statement makes him blush. He gulps and texts Hizashi back quickly. He has no idea what to do now, knowing that Hizashi actually likes him back. 

“I don’t really know. I don’t have any experience in this field. But he did say he wanted to have a sleepover soon.” 

Kayama smirks and Shota interrupts whatever sick advice she's about to give. “Don’t look at me like that!” He sits on the ground next to his backpack, resting his chin on top of his knees. He debates a question that's been nagging at him since this morning, unsure if Kayama will have the answer or not. And unsure if he even wants an answer. 

“Earlier Hizashi said that he had dated a few people in middle school. Do you know anything about that? Like, has he ever been with a guy before?” 

Kayama shifts her weight, burying her hands deep into the pockets of her trench coat. “As far as I know, he’s never been with a guy. But Yamada’s the type of person who knows what he wants so I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Do you think he’s ever kissed anyone? I worry that he’s more experienced than me with this kind of thing.” 

She examines a lock of hair by the front of her face, twirling it around her painted fingernail. “You really should ask him that.” 

What Shota wants to ask is why she’s acting so suspicious all of a sudden. But she’s right, Hizashi would probably tell him if he asked. Besides, she’s helped him enough today anyway. He collects his things and stuffs his binding cloth in the briefcase next to his hero costume and leaves the gym, thanking Kayama on his way out.

Shota reads the novel he stole from Hizashi’s bed on the train ride home. He wonders if the scenes in his own imagination are as clear or vivid as they were in Hizashi’s mind when he read the book first. Well, half-read. He remembers the fairy lights above his bed and imagines him laying on his stomach, cover folded back in one hand with warm light twinkling off the rim of his glasses and the swoop of his hair. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. 

(Hizashi)

You home yet? I wanna taaaalllllkkkk!

(Shota)

I’ll call when I get off the train. 

There's a fluttering in his stomach. A few months ago he would’ve stuck his nose up at the idea of sharing his space and his energy with anyone as often as Hizashi demands. But so far he’s never grown tired of him. Hizashi reads him well and knows when to dial it down. And even if he didn’t, Shota’s not sure he’d mind anyway. 

His stop pulls up and the train screeches to a halt. He steps out, cell phone in hand and Hizashi’s contact on screen. Shota wants to call him, to hear all about his day and his unsuccessful date and to tell him about how Kayama helped him with his capture weapon. But now, with his finger over the button, nervousness buzzes up the base of his spine and fans out to his limbs like static. Hizashi likes him. How the hell is he supposed to act normal now? He feels weirdly changed knowing there’s a chance of being more than friends. 

Fuck it. He braces his gut and hits the call button. 

“SHO! Finally! I’m not used to sharing you with anyone else, buddy! What’s up with Kayama? I didn’t know you guys hung out outside of the roof.” 

“She was helping me with my capture weapon, and even gave me an idea to improve it. How about your date? Why was it a bust?” He can hear him padding around on the other end, so he must be on speakerphone. 

“Yeah man, she just wanted to be friends. I’m kinda relieved honestly.” 

“Really? She told me earlier that me she likes you.” No sense in hiding it now. 

He hums playfully on the other end of the phone, “Chatty today, huh? Tryna steal all my women?” He laughs away from the speaker, courteous of Shota’s ears. “But nah I must’ve scared her off somehow. You know I can be a lot for some people.” There's a slight shift in his tone. Shota almost missed it. 

“More like she wasn’t enough for you,” he grates. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He can picture him waving him off. “Anyway, about our sleepover! Wanna come over tonight?”

“Sure. I have to ask my mom but I’m sure she's fine with it. You have to come over next time though. She's starting to think you’re just some character I made up.”  

Hizashi chokes out another laugh, “Absolutely! How about tomorrow! I’ll wear my best clothes!” 

“I’ve seen your best clothes. Wear something normal.” Hizashi whines out like a girl and as much as Shota wants to humor him, he’s nearly home. He wraps up the call and greets his mother in the kitchen. 

He scarfs down the food she bought after work and then asks if he can sleep over at the Yamada’s. After a few minutes of arguing over who exactly this boy is and when she’s going to finally meet him, she agrees to let him go. He races into his room, changing into a comfortable outfit and throwing a second pair of clothes into his backpack. He’s just about to bolt out the front door before his mom calls from the kitchen. Annoyed, he drags his feet across the living room and fixes his face just right outside the doorway. His mother waits for him with pursed lips and a canned cocktail in hand. Apollo perches on the chair behind her, sizing up her untouched dinner. 

“One more thing before you go. Show me a picture of this kid.” Shota’s face burns and he clutches his phone inside his pocket.

“Why? You’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“Oh, please! I just wanna make sure this boy is real and you aren't hanging out with some creep twice your age. You’re so secretive Shota, just show me a picture.”

He's offended by the accusation but she does have a point. He flips through his photo album for a picture of a perfectly normal looking Hizashi. Finally he settles for the only photo he has of the boy where he’s not shoving food in his mouth or making strange faces at the camera. It’s one that Hizashi took himself. It’s the two of them together, with the taller boy's arm wrapped around his neck making peace signs at the camera. Shota’s own grouchy face completely defies how he felt when the picture was taken. He’s considered using it as his wallpaper but he’s not ready to change the one of Apollo quite yet. 

His mom studies the photo and drags her eyes up slowly to scan his face. It makes him nervous, like she knows exactly what’s going through his head. He snatches the phone back before she can scroll any further. 

“Can I go now?” He huffs, growing impatient.

The corners of her lips twitch and then flatten like she’s trying not to laugh about something. “Yeah, yeah get out of here and be safe. If you bring him home tomorrow I’ll actually cook.” She waves him away, using her drink to hide her smile. Shota hopes that she’s lying. The last thing he needs is for Hizashi to keel over and die after choking on her overcooked pork cutlets. 

Shota gets to Hizashi’s apartment in no time. He considers knocking but he’s certain that his parents won’t hear it. So he calls Hizashi’s phone to let him know he made it. Footsteps thunder down the stairs from the other side of the door and when it opens, Hizashi greets him bright as ever. His hair is down and he wears a pair of bright red joggers and a graphic white t-shirt that’s two sizes too big for him. He yanks him inside to greet his parents in the living room. They glance up from the television and stare at Shota, then at Hizashi, then back at each other, matching the same expression his mother wore only twenty minutes ago. Hizashi signs something that Shota can’t understand and steps to the side, showcasing him like a trophy. Apparently finished with his dramatic introduction, He takes off towards his bedroom and Shota, feeling awkward and unprepared, bows quickly to his parents before scurrying up the stairs after him. 

Hizashi’s bedroom is exactly how he remembers it, if not cleaner. Shota inhales deeply, feeling like he’s already been here a thousand times before. Hizashi plops onto the edge of the bed and Shota sits next to him, close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Guess I should probably learn some sign language.” He says, feeling tense already. He represses the urge to ask about how they became deaf in the first place, wondering if it was gradual or one big accident. 

“It would make a really good impression. I can teach you some basic stuff tonight like ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’.” He nudges him with his elbow. “So what do you wanna do? Wanna play video games?” 

Shota doesn’t necessarily like video games but he obliges anyway, taking the controller that's handed to him. Hizashi puts on Mario Kart and chooses Dry Bones as his character. Shota chooses Zelda (which Hizashi later corrects that his name is actually Link and that Zelda is the princess) because he finds him handsome. They kick off the match, bantering back and forth, throwing shoulders and laughing. Well, as close to laughing as Shota ever gets. But Hizashi laughs so loud that the walls seem to shake. He’s so different from the last time Shota was over, so much more expressive and free. Not that he ever holds back in school but he seems to be fully charged here at home. It makes Shota happy, like he’s seeing his friend in full bloom. 

Shota loses round after round, summoning either the bullet or the gold mushroom every time he hits a mystery cube. Hizashi flies past him in laps, knowing each map by heart but Shota can’t focus at all with the heat of his friend’s leg against his or the smell of his shampoo wafting over every time he whips his head around to say something. His hair bounces when he speaks, somehow making him seem more animated than when it’s gelled up. He wants to reach out and touch it, ruffle it, grab a handful and pull it. His stomach does a backflip. Would Hizashi like that? Attention now fully diverted from the game, he examines the boy beside him. Specifically the two pin-prick holes in his ear lobes. He never did ask about them. 

“Do you have your ears pierced?” The question drags the blond from whatever competitive zone he was just in. 

“I do! Wanna see my earrings?” He climbs off of the bed and digs a small box out from his night stand. Inside the box are a variety of earrings in gold, black and silver. Mostly studs, though some dangle. One pair is even crocheted. Shota picks out a pair of small gold hoops, not even big enough to fit around his finger and hands them to the other boy. He clasps them to his earlobes with a grimace, leaving them slightly pink. “It’s been a while so the holes are mostly closed up. I stopped wearing them once I got into UA. The dress code is too strict and they’re uncomfortable with my headphones.” 

Elation bubbles up inside Shota’s chest. He sucks in a huge breath of air to make room for how big his feelings are. The gold earrings hug each ear and match his glasses perfectly. Shota must’ve gone silent for the wrong amount of time because Hizashi has to speak for him, “Breathtaking, I know.” He giggles behind closed teeth, batting his eyelashes playfully towards Shota, who still can’t seem to formulate even a one-word sentence. Feeling stupid, he diverts his attention to the window. Windows and the night sky don’t require a coherent response when you admire them. He needs some fresh air.

“Wanna go to the convenience store? We could use some snacks.” 

“WHAT? Bro, I already washed my hair! The world can’t see me out of sorts like this!” Shota “tsks” at him and pulls him off the bed by his hand, holding it all the way to the top of the stairs and releasing him where his parents would be able to see them. Hizashi leads them down, signaling to his parents that they’re leaving before slipping on his shoes and holding the door open for him. 

Hizashi chats most of the way to the store, punctuating every syllable with a constant flow of movement. Shota watches him, feeling much more capable under the night sky and street lamps than in the four walls of his bedroom. Hizashi hovers close enough that Shota can feel the heat radiating off his body. Being outside with the warm breeze gives him a confidence that he didn’t have before, like going on a walk before making a difficult phone call. He wonders what would happen if he tried to grab his hand and hold it. If he weren't in constant motion, he could maybe brush his hand against his, testing him out. And if he were okay with that, then he might snake his fingers around his wrist, searching for the pulse that keeps this boy so alive, so vibrant. Maybe it would spread to Shota, bleeding in through the pads of his fingers and hopefully filling him with that same endless energy. 

But Hizashi doesn’t stop moving, and keeps on talking. And before Shota can reach out for him, the bright light of the convenience store steals some of the bravery he felt a moment ago. 

Hizashi beats him to the door, lowering his voice only slightly as they walk inside. The cashier bobs up from her phone as they enter and starts rearranging stacks of gum and notepads around the counter to look busy. Hizashi splits off to gather his own snacks but his voice carries from the next aisle. Shota grabs a basket and strolls around quietly, unsure what he’s actually in the mood for. He wasn’t really as hungry as he pretended to be, mostly just trying to escape Hizashi’s bedroom before he went completely mute over some damn jewelry. He likes being here with him anyway, as if shopping together is something they do all the time. Hizashi returns with a handful of items, canned coffee with jelly, a dubious-looking chicken sandwich, and a container of green tea ice cream. He orbits around him, talking his ear off about anything he can conjure up in his mind and Shota welcomes it. The chatter follows him to the freezer where he contemplates a pint of strawberry ice cream, then looks over at the pint that Hizashi already has in his hand and the image of them sharing the same treat, notably with the same spoon commands him to put his own ice cream back. 

“I’d rather try yours.” He says and the way Hizashi’s mouth twitches makes him wonder if he was already thinking the same thing. Some of the courage from earlier returns. Knowing that the blond will follow, he drifts to the candy aisle, snatching a pack of licorice for himself, then hesitantly, he picks up a box of pocky too. Green tea flavor ‘cause he knows it’s what Hizashi likes. The chattering short circuits behind him and he glances back at a very flushed Hizashi. Shota smirks, certain now that the other boy is on the same page. 

“In case we get bored later.” He shrugs, dropping the pocky into his basket. Hizashi gravitates even closer now, staggering over his own words and then shutting up entirely. 

Satisfied with his pickings, he drops his bag off at the counter. He and Hizashi combine their pocket money and he hands it over to the cashier, who brushes her fingers on his when he hands her the money. Shota shivers at the contact, assuming it was an accident. When she hands out his change, he cups his hands into a bowl to keep her from touching him again. 

“Hopefully I see you here again!” The girl says, handing their grocery bag over. Their hands brush again when he takes it and he almost hisses at her like a feral cat. Hizashi covers his mouth beside him, stifling a laugh. 

“She was definitely into you!” Hizashi snickers as the door jingles shut behind them, though the set of his eyebrows contradicts his playful tone. 

Shota scowls. “She touched me twice. Ugh.” He physically shakes off the ghost of the girl’s hand. “Strangers shouldn’t touch strangers.” 

“Yeah, yeah bro. She was flirting. Sometimes touching is a part of it.” 

“Did it at least make you jealous?” Shota adds, only half joking. 

Hizashi tips his head back towards the street light, illuminating the wary smile on his lips. He pulls Shota in, slinging an arm around him as they walk, demonstrating that he can touch him and that girl cannot . “It did.” 

Shota’s legs give out a little bit and he presses into him even more. He wants to act cool and collected but it’s difficult with his heart breakdancing inside his chest. He doesn’t even try to hide the smile that blooms over his face. 

Hizashi tugs twice on a lock of Shota’s hair, “I was wondering by the way, what happened between you and Yuki during the capture sim today? Everyone was staring at you when we got back to base.” In an instant, all the courage he’s worked up over the last half hour evaporates like rain on fire. Hizashi pulls harder on his scalp, insisting that he answers his question. 

“Yuki seemed to think of me her competition today... you being the prize. That’s all, really.” Shota tries to shrug it off but the words he said to Yuki earlier catch in his throat, “Hizashi is the sun in my sky”- god how embarrassing. Most of the class had probably witnessed his confession through the viewing monitors. 

Hizashi curls the stand of hair around his fingers and Shota melts into it. He must be feeling pretty bold too. “Yeah, well I guess I may have given her that impression on our date too. I think I gushed about you too hard and it threw her off.” He scrunches his face and continues rambling, “I wasn’t even into her, ‘yanno? I was just so bummed out after our argument yesterday. I got her number from Ito to apologize for snapping at her. You were being dodgy as hell over text so I just distracted myself with her, I guess.” 

Shota shoves him hard. “I wish you just called me instead of chumming it up with the first girl who gave you the time of day!” He wants to shove him again but he withholds. “Here I was feeling sorry for myself all night while you ran around playing bachelor with Ito and Yuki.” 

Hizashi scrapes his fingers up into his own hair, groaning loud enough for Shota to feel it beneath his feet. Shota puffs out his chest to make himself bigger but when Hizashi collapses a hand on each shoulder, the look in his eyes makes him realize how small he actually is. 

“Shota, I was trying to give you space! Since you were so appalled by even the idea of being my boyfriend yesterday! I thought I crossed a line with you! I thought I made you uncomfortable and God, I just felt so… ashamed.” His voice withers away on the last word and the bulk of Shota’s anger vanishes with it. 

“I didn’t mean to push you away. I thought you felt the same way when you were arguing with Yuki and Ito, like you were embarrassed to be with me.” Shota covers Hizashi’s hands with his own, then slides the pad of his thumbs down over his racing pulse. 

“Sho, I’ve never been embarrassed of wanting you. I just didn’t wanna push you away.” Hizashi rests his forehead against Shota’s and the frame of his glasses pinches his skin. Being this close, he can see that Hizashi has blonde eyelashes feathered between dark, a hint of summer freckles, and red tinged lips from nervous chewing. This must be how he sees people- where every tiny detail forms its own story, coming together to paint the intricate beauty of the whole being.

Hizashi draws his hands up to cup his face and Shota follows the movement, unwilling to part from the vitality that thrums beneath his fingertips. Shota counts the beats that go by- five, before Hizashi tips down and kisses him, so softly that he questions everything he thought he could ever know about a person. How someone as boisterous and powerful as Hizashi Yamada could place a kiss so delicately to his lips that Shota nearly thinks if he imagined it. Hizashi kisses him like an eyelash that landed on his cheek but if the pulse in his hands is any indication of reality then this kiss is the realest thing he’s ever experienced in his entire life. The tiniest brush of lips feels like Shota’s entire existence had been sucked up into one microscopic point and then exploded all over again into an entirely new universe. 

Hizashi parts with his lips and then presses his mouth to his forehead, teeth against skin as he giggles into his hair. Shota wraps himself around the taller boy’s waist and the vibration from his laughter resonates through his entire body, combining with his warmth and his beauty and making him certain that Hizashi could actually be his sun, his source of life. 

Hizashi is moving backwards now, smoothing his hands down Shota’s arms until their fingers interlock. 

“Come on Sho-chan. Let's go play Pocky in my room.” There’s so much more that Shota wanted to say but he can barely form a coherent thought as the monumental feeling in his chest extends downward. Shota plants his feet to stop him and meets his lips again, stealing a second kiss before gluing himself to his side, allowing him to lead them back home. Whatever blurb of sappy admiration or questions Shota had been meaning to ask could wait until after they’re back in his room. For now he lets his mind stay empty, experiencing this moment through touch and sound and Hizashi only. 

Chapter Text

Hizashi's POV

Hizashi’s mind races a million miles a minute trying to piece together the sequence of events leading up to his lips against Shotas, twice . The shorter teen still has his arm wrapped around his middle and he’s sure that he can feel his heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage, a dead giveaway to the chaos he feels inside. Still, he keeps his breath steady, trying to mimic Shota’s dreamy sense of confidence. He thinks back to this morning, how irritated Shota seemed when he found out about his date with Yuki. It confused him at the time, why he seemed to care so much. Now his jealousy feels painfully obvious. And what did he do? He went out with her anyway. Stupid . Even Ito warned him not to do anything drastic. Even he knew. 

Hizashi studies Shota like a living piece of art, from the shape of his curls to the wrinkles in his clothes and even the damn snacks that he eats. That’s how it is with Shota, who willingly gives so little of himself that you have to figure out the rest like a mystery. Hizashi would probably notice if he breathed twenty times a minute instead of nineteen. So how the hell did he miss this? How the hell did everyone else know before he did? Guilt and anxiety wrestles with the giddiness still spinning around in his stomach from their last kiss. The kiss- so soft. Shota’s mouth was so soft. Excitement takes over again, peeling his lips back into a toothy grin. 

“What are you thinking about?” Shota asks, interrupting his trainwreck of thought.

Hizashi tries to minimize it all into one simple answer and fails. He looks down at the boy by his side, body pressed against his, clenching the fabric of his t-shirt. He kisses him on the temple, delicately as if he doesn’t quite have full permission yet. The scent of his shampoo and detergent dilutes all the worries swirling around in his brain. He smells like sandalwood and lavender, he smells calm. 

“Hizashi…” Shota starts again, still waiting for his answer. 

“Everything. I’m thinking about everything.” He takes a long breath through his nose, allowing Shota’s scent to wash over his rising thoughts one more time. “And nothing. Now I’m thinking about nothing.” 

Shota’s mouth twitches, on edge between smiling or questioning him further but Hizashi just kisses him again, a little harder this time. 

Ten minutes and three kisses later, they’re back outside of Hizashi’s apartment. Shota releases him before he opens the door, leaving his thin t-shirt a crumpled mess where he held onto it. Hizashi’s parents perk their heads up as they walk inside but he ignores them. One look at him and they’ll know exactly what happened while they were out, as if Shota’s mouth and fingertips leave traces of neon wherever they find themselves on his skin and clothes. He pushes through his bedroom door and closes it behind them. 

Alone in his room, a new sense of tension buzzes between them, without the night breeze to blow it away. Shota steps in close, dropping the bag of snacks on the floor to place both hands over Hizashi’s chest. Hizashi pulls him in by the hem of his t-shirt, allowing his thumbs to graze the skin on his hips. He kisses him again, hard and desperate and full of need. Shota presses in closer until Hizashi’s back is against the door. He parts his lips, an invitation that Shota takes. Shota tries to match his pace, wet and needy. Hizashi has Shota’s t-shirt balled into his fists, holding it tight around his body like a straight jacket to keep him from pulling away. It’s all he can do to keep his hands from clawing up and down his chest like a deranged animal.

Shota breaks the kiss, lips pink and slick with spit. Hizashi likes it, knowing that both of their spit is in his mouth right now. 

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Shota asks, breathily. 

The question wriggles through his hazy brain and he responds before he can place his words more carefully. “Yes. With Kayama.” Shota moves to retreat but Hizashi still has him restrained by his t-shirt.

“It wasn’t like this though, Shota. I didn’t want her like this, like how I want you.” 

“How was it then?” His voice is sharp and it stings. 

“She was just showing me how… Teaching me, really. She liked that I was younger and inexperienced. I liked that she was bossy. We only fooled around twice and I stopped it that first day that I ate with you on the roof!” 

Shota narrows his eyes. “Why did you wait until now to say anything? I told her how I felt about you today and probably looked like an idiot!”

“It just never came up! We never talked about girls. Or guys for that matter!  And I didn’t think I had a chance with you anyway so it’s not like I had any obligation to kiss and tell!” He releases his grip on the smaller boy and he doesn’t pull away this time.  

Shota’s face softens into something more vulnerable. He tips his head down and Hizashi can see the line of dark lashes fanning over his porcelain skin. He wants to take a picture and paint him like this, in a different light than he’s ever seen him before. There’s a crack in his hard exterior and Hizashi resists the urge to try and hold it all together because Shota Aizawa deserves to be seen from every angle, even when he’s falling apart. 

“And how is it with me?” His voice is an irritated grumble but Hizashi knows it’s just a disguise. 

Hizashi takes his head in both hands and pushes the mop of curls back from his face. If Shota has the courage to finally show his full self then Hizashi makes damn sure he’s going to see all of it. The boy’s cheeks are warm in his hands. He swipes his thumb over the delicate skin under his eyes and up the gentle curve of his cheekbones. He looks so pretty like this. He kisses each eye closed and then his mouth, waiting for the right words to manifest in his lovestruck brain. 

“There’s like this quiet intensity to you, always drawing me in. Like how the moon influences the tides, you influence my blood. And you’re so beautiful, I can’t look away. I can’t stop watching you, watching everything you do.” A thin line creases between Shota’s eyebrows and Hizashi kisses it away. “You’re mean and I like that. I like that you challenge me. I want you to boss me around all the time, just so I can argue and then do what you say anyway because you’re almost always right.” Shota rolls his eyes, lips twitching into a faint smile. 

Hizashi’s own smile widens and he goes on, “And you’re so calm that sometimes it feels like I can only breathe when I’m near you. It’s like my brain is on fire all the time until I think of you and that's it. It’s just you and it gives me more relief than any song or fleeting hobby ever could.” He laughs, freely and gestures to the pile of half-finished projects spilling out from underneath his bed. 

Shota chuckles at that, instinctively trying to hide the amusement on his face but Hizashi doesn’t let him. He holds him steady and kisses him again, trying to figure out if smiling kisses taste different than not-smiling kisses. He can’t tell, and decides that if they did taste any different then he would still love both of them equally. Shota grins even harder and- Fuck, was that a giggle ? 

More. Hizashi needs more of this boy and all the new parts that are unfolding in front of him for the first time. He tries to deepen the kiss but between both of their smiles it just turns into a clang of teeth and laughter so he releases his face, scooping him up by the waist and spinning him over to the bed. Shota falls back against the pillows, still beaming at him in a way that he’s sure no one has ever seen before and here he is, a splash of ivory skin and ink-black hair against his blood-colored sheets. He swears he could wake up any minute but even Dream-Shota doesn’t light up like this. 

Hizashi straddles him, kissing him hard and desperate. Shota’s hands finally give in and reach underneath his shirt, ascending his back and popping back out of his collar to tangle into his hair. He tugs hard at the hair on the back of his head, tearing a moan out from deep in his belly. 

Horrified, Hizashi buries his face into the crook of Shota’s neck. 

“I’m sorry.” He squeaks, embarrassed. 

“You liked that?” Shota pulls him up to face him by his hair again, gentler this time and fuck- he can tell he’s blushing like crazy. 

“Clearly,” he laughs shakily, undone by lust and embarrassment. He finds his way back to Shota’s mouth, more comfortable now exploring the toned muscle beneath his shirt. Shota kisses him until he’s breathless, thoughtless, rabid. He doesn’t know how to stop. He doesn’t think it’s even possible to stop with the way Shota’s back starts arching off the bed until- “KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.” 

Hizashi pounces off the boy with a gasp, whacking his head on the loft above his bed. Shota straightens out the ruffles in his clothes, yanking his shirt down to cover his lap. The door swings open immediately after the panic-inducing knock and his mother crosses her arms against the frame, eyes darting back and forth between both boys with an expression that toes the line between authority and ‘Ah-ha!’ 

Hizashi leans back, trying to act casual as if his hair isn’t a mess and his neck isn’t flushed up to his scalp, then flops forward again as soon as he realizes how pronounced the evidence in his lap appears in his red sweatpants. 

‘What are you two doing?’ She signs. Hizashi gestures to the two game controllers on the bed, rolling his eyes as if it’s obvious. 

She raises an eyebrow, glancing over to the notably black TV screen and back to Hizashi and his maybe-boyfriend on the bed. 

She signs one last thing, ‘boundaries’ , before leaving the door open halfway and walking off. 

“Well shit. There goes our privacy. I guess they kinda thought something was up anyway when you spent the night the other day.” Hizashi huffs, smoothing his fingers through his hair and straightening out his glasses.

“So much for a good impression,” Shota mutters, scrambling off the bed to pick up the discarded bag of snacks on the floor.

Hizashi flicks the TV onto a random channel that he knows neither of them will pay attention to before digging into his pint of half melted ice cream. He takes a bite for himself, then scoops another and feeds it to Shota. Funny how sharing a spoonful of ice cream is all he could’ve hoped for less than an hour ago and now his skin still tingles with all the places Shota’s hands had been. Shota pops open the pack of Pocky and dips one in the ice cream, breaking off half for himself and feeding the remainder to Hizashi, kiss-fashion. 

The rest of the night passes quickly between shared snacks and stolen kisses in the glow of an unimportant movie on Hizashi’s TV. His parents pass by the room intermittently, pushing the door back open everytime Hizashi tries to pinch it closed for just a few more inches of privacy. Giving up on the door, the two settle in for the night, taking turns in each other's arms until Shota finds himself in a restful sleep with his back flush against Hizashi’s chest. 

Hizashi stays up a little longer after him, etching this moment into his brain until Shota’s body heat and sandalwood scent lull him into his own sleep. 

Shota's POV

Shota wakes up in a tangle of limbs and his face pressed against his best friend's chest. So warm. So real . He could stay like this for another eight hours if it weren’t for the dull ache in his lower back. Carefully, he pulls himself away from the blond and stretches out like a cat, earning himself a curious glance from the actual cat at the edge of the bed. He gives Eggs a quick scratch between the ears and tiptoes to the bathroom, listening for the sound of Hizashi’s parents padding around downstairs. 

He does not want to run into them again, ever. After finishing his business in the bathroom and brushing his teeth, he returns to see his friend (or boyfriend?) at the edge of the bed rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“SHOTA! Oh man, I thought I was just dreaming of you!” Hizashi squeals. 

Shota winces, and the blond takes the hint to lower his volume. A brief exchange of silence lingers between them, scouting the atmosphere for the sound of parental surveillance in the next room or downstairs. When the coast is clear, they’re on eachother, a clash of lips and tongue and sneaky fingers fanning through thick curls and over hot skin. 

Shota’s tongue teases along Hizashi’s carotid pulse, tasting salt and vitality while the other boy vibrates beneath him. The tips of Hizashi’s fingers dance along the edge of his waistband, hesitant to dip inside. Shota wishes he would, more than anything he wishes he fucking would. 

His perverted thoughts are cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps marching up the stairwell- a warning. Shota half-leaps and is half pushed off of Hizashi before his father reaches the door frame. Mr. Yamada pushes the door open all the way, staring at Shota on the floor with contempt. He signs something to Hizashi and walks off with a disgruntled noise. 

“He says breakfast is ready.” Hizashi says, dreadfully. 

Shit . 

Breakfast with the Yamada’s is slightly less awkward than he’d anticipated. His mother set out a bowl of scrambled eggs and bacon for the boys to sift through. There’s bassy music playing from the living room, vibrating the walls of the apartment. Shota wonders if Hizashi has neighbors and how they could manage sharing a wall with these people. But just this once, he welcomes the noise. It breaks up some of the tension hanging between him and Hizashi’s parents on the other side of the table. 

Hizashi drinks his coffee black, like his parents. Interesting . Shota is too shy to ask for cream and he’s not even sure how to articulate it without knowing sign language so sucks it down quickly, painting a neutral expression over the disgusting taste. He hopes it comes off convincing. 

Unlikely , considering he can feel their eyes burning holes through his skin, analyzing every move and micro expression the same way that Hizashi’s mastered since he met them. He tries not to feel so uneasy about it. Being deaf must mean they have to take in extra context through visual cues. 

Hizashi elbows him. “They can read lips by the way.” 

Oh. He should have known. He stands up and gives a quick bow, pressing his hands together to show his gratitude for the meal. “I’m Shota Aizawa, Hizashi’s classmate.” He articulates the words precisely, unsure if his mouth is trying too hard to be legible. If Hizashi’s laughter is any indication then yes, he is in fact trying too hard. 

Mrs. Yamada’s eyebrows raise. She signs something to Hizashi, wearing a quizzical look on her face. Shota looks at him expectantly, waiting for translation. 

“Um, she’s asking if you’re my boyfriend. What should I tell them?” 

Shota blushes, feeling very put on the spot and very small in Mr. Yamada’s field of vision. 

Shota mumbles, resisting the urge to cover his mouth as he speaks, “Are they cool with that? Are they cool with you dating a guy?” 

Hizashi nods. He doesn’t seem shy or ashamed. 

“Then yes, tell them I am.” 

Hizashi lights up, articulating the symbols out loud as he introduces Shota officially as his boyfriend. His parents seem happy with the honesty. Hizashi’s father reaches out to shake his hand and Shota accepts. 

“I should have done this yesterday, I'm sorry.” He tells the man, clearly so he can read his lips. The man squeezes harder, affirming his statement. 

Hizashi smacks his father’s hand away. “Alright, Dad. You’ve made your point. He’s very scared of you now, good job.” Shota gulps, retrieving his crumpled up hand from Mr. Yamada’s death grip. 

With the introduction finally out of the way, Hizashi’s parents relax into a more organic flow of silent conversation. Hizashi translates for him as he signs, but Shota is sure that his means of communicating would seem just as loud without extra verbalization. He captivates his little audience with stories from this week’s training exercises, manipulating the air around the table with swooping hand motions and interesting vocal vibrations. Shota admires his boyfriend’s performance, and appreciates him drawing as much attention away from himself as possible. 

Hizashi concludes breakfast/story time by remembering that he does in fact have food in front of him and wolfing it down as quickly as possible. Shota helps Mrs. Yamada clear the table and wash dishes, feeling that it’s the least he can do after attacking her son with his mouth all night. 

Once the kitchen is cleaned and Hizashi’s hair is styled into its usual swoop, they pack their bags and head over to Shota’s house. 

Shota wrestles with nervousness the entire train ride to his house, unsure if he’s more stressed about his mother’s first impression or his boyfriend’s. He had Hizashi remove his earrings just in case. He’s also unsure if he wants to introduce Hizashi as his boyfriend just yet anyway, worried that she might be more strict about visitation or bedroom privacy if she knows that he’s more than a friend. 

When they arrive at his house, his mother opens the door before he can even pull his key out. 

“You must be Yamada!” She chirps, too enthusiastically. “Shota’s been going on and on about you for months!”  

Hizashi straightens to his full height, a shit-grin swept wide across his pretty face. “In the flesh! So nice to finally meet you, Ms. Aizawa!” He takes her hand in both of his and Shota half expects him to crouch down and kiss it. 

“Man, I see where Shota gets his good looks- WACK!” 

“Okay, Kiss-ass you made your point. C’mon, let’s go inside.” 

In the kitchen, Hizashi and his mother chat like they’ve met a million times before. Sitting back while two of them exchange stories and pictures on their phones, most revolving around himself, Shota can’t even remember why he was so worried about the two of them meeting in the first place. They’re both ridiculously outgoing. And the way his mother keeps glancing back at him, he can tell she approves. 

As relieved as he is that they’re getting along, he’s already growing impatient. He locks eyes with Hizashi, who takes the hint and wraps it up politely with his mother, finally .  

“I’m gonna show Hizashi my room now. Bye.” He mutters. 

Suddenly serious, she warns, “Fine, but leave the door cracked.” 

Shit. She knows. 

He rolls his eyes, snatching his boyfriend by the waist and guiding him down the hall. Hizashi waves goodbye to her, cheekily enough to get them both in trouble. 

Shota closes his bedroom door, leaving a miniscule crack between the latch and frame to appease his mother. By the time he turns around, Hizashi is already elbow-deep in his dresser, sifting through every shirt, sock and pair of underwear he owns. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks, holding a chuckle back in his throat.  

“Uh, getting to know you, duh!” He brings an armful of clothes to his face and audibly sniffs. Apparently the first whiff wasn’t nearly enough because he drops the pile and shoves his face directly into the drawer, inhaling even louder. Subtle. 

Laughter bubbles up from Shota’s belly, alerting the swoop of hair poking out from his dresser. Hizashi sweeps over to him, plopping a wet smooch onto his lips and then leaps onto his twin mattress. 

Apollo scurries from his hiding spot between the pillows. 

“NO! APOLLO, I’M SO SORRY!” Hizashi calls out after the ginger cat but knows better than to chase him. 

“Good luck winning him over now.” Shota hums and collapses on top of the blond’s back. He kisses him on the back of the neck but it goes mostly unnoticed. Hizashi is face deep in his bedding sniffing so hard that the sheet moves with his breath. 

“You’re a freak.” He deadpans. 

“A freak for you, baby.” Hizashi sighs, rolling Shota off of his back, twisting around to face him.

Baby . 

The pet name fries his brain- melts it, disintegrates it. “Baby” reduces him to a string of misguided nerves acting on fast-firing impulses only. He grips his boyfriend by the front of his shirt and kisses him hard. 

Unfortunately, Hizashi is not finished snooping. Laughing loudly against Shota’s mouth, he gets to his feet, pulling the shorter boy up with him. Arms still around his waist, he thunks into the battered office chair, guiding Shota to sit on his lap. Butterflies would be an understatement to what exactly Shota is feeling right now. 

Being in Hizashi’s lap, with his arm thrown lazily around his waist while he sifts through his desk drawers overwhelms him with a primal feeling of possession that he’s never felt to such a degree before. “Mine” is not even a word to him now, it’s a feral instinct. 

Again, he tries to kiss him. But Hizashi is still distracted. The agitation rewires his brain just enough so that he can string a coherent sentence together. 

“Okay, what the hell are you looking for?” He blurts out. 

Hizashi finally looks up from tearing through his organized pile notes and books. “I’m looking for the drawing I gave you when we first met.” 

His green eyes are wide, almost worried and Shota’s impatience evaporates instantly. Feeling mildly embarrassed, he walks over to one of the pillows on his bed. Reaching deep inside the pillowcase, he pulls out a pocket sized square of paper and hands it to Hizashi. He unfolds it several times to reveal an impossibly detailed sketch of his Shota’s face, hidden behind a paperback book with a bent cover. Beneath it is a small English sentence written in all caps and underlined, “ LET'S BE FRIENDS.” 

Hizashi holds the drawing to his chest, looking like he might cry. “You kept it!” 

Shota kneels down in front of him. “It was the first time I’ve ever truly felt seen. Of course I kept it.” 

“Oh babe, and in your pillow too! That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen!” 

Babe. Hizashi sure has a way with words. 

Finally, Hizashi kisses him, holding his face steady between both hands. Shota unfolds around him, relieved to finally have a way to express the love he feels for this boy because God knows he falls short on words. But who needs words when Hizashi Yamada, the embodiment of the sun, sees you for exactly who you are and still decides to want you. 

He climbs back into his lap, facing him while Hizashi spins them both in circles on the office chair. Shota wraps the blond up in both of his arms with his lips pressed to his forehead in a smile. Hizashi’s hair product smells good but he knows better than to disrupt his carefully arranged updo. 

Hizashi stops spinning, placing a tender kiss to Shota’s Adam’s apple, he asks, “So are we coming out at school? Or do you wanna keep this a secret?” 

Warmth blooms through Shota’s chest. Such a considerate boy.  

“Well, normally I’d say let’s keep our relationship low-key but… I basically confessed my great big love for you to half the class already anyway, so…” 

Hizashi’s face shifts as his mind registers what he’d just heard. “WHAT? WHEN?” 

“Yesterday. I told Yuki…ugh… that you were ‘the sun in my sky ’ and I think everyone heard it on the viewing monitors. So I may as well go back there as if I have some game rather than carrying on as a pinning loser.”  

“Have game ? HA! Who knew you cared so much about what people think? Man, is that why everyone was staring at you yesterday!” He laughs into the crook of Shota’s neck and it tickles. 

“Shut up!” Shota pushes his face away. Hizashi laughs even harder. 

“No-no, thank God though, I want to show you off so badly!” 

Shota tenses, “It doesn’t have to be a secret but I’m not showing PDA! Besides, I don’t want to draw any unwanted attention if you know what I mean.” 

“You mean because we’re both dudes?” He scowls, “Fuck ‘em.” 

Shota groans, “Yeah, yeah, fuck ‘em. But still...” 

Hizashi rolls his eyes and goes back to swiveling them back and forth in semi-circles. Shota knows this isn’t the last of this conversation but he’s thankful to drop it for now. 

The rest of the afternoon drifts on. Hizashi snoops through his stuff some more, even stealing a book from his desk and stuffing one of Shota’s oversized t-shirts into his backpack to sleep in. Shota returns Hizashi’s too-tight-too-long uniform from the last time he spent the night and he crams it in with the rest of his stolen cargo. They finish their homework together on the bed, Shota tutoring him in math and Hizashi returning the favor with English. His mother cooks dinner for them and Hizashi scarfs it down very convincingly, not gagging even once.  

After Hizashi leaves, Shota tucks himself into bed. He'd expected the alone time to be a relief, but surprisingly he feels quite empty. His fingers dance over Hizashi’s contact, debating whether or not it’s pitiful to miss his voice already after spending two entire days together. He settles on a goodnight text instead. 

Hizashi calls him seconds later and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey baby, sick of me yet?” 

Again, Shota blushes at the pet name. “Unfortunately, no. Um,” he pauses, trying to come up with the least pathetic way to ask, “wanna stay on the phone tonight?” 

Hizashi agrees so quickly that it could’ve passed as his idea in the first place. He drones on, filling the room with mostly one-sided conversation but Shota welcomes it. How the hell he never runs out of things to talk about, even after two straight days of yapping is beyond him. 

Shota’s replies falter to nearly nothing as he starts drifting off to sleep and Hizashi notices, requesting (strangely) that he leave the phone on his chest so that he can listen to his breathing. He really is a freak, Shota thinks but he does what he’s asked. Hizashi keeps talking, sweeter, quieter, heavier until Shota can no longer differentiate between reality and dream. 

Shota rocks on his feet, eager to reunite with his favorite blond outside the school gates. Two hands snatch his uniform jacket from behind, twisting him around to face that award winning smile. 

“MOOOOORNING SHOOOO-CHAN!” Hizashi squeals for the world to hear, slinging an arm around his shoulders, falling into step beside him. 

Even though they’re at school, Shota almost expected a kiss. He wants to, badly, but PDA goes against his own rules so he squashes the thought where it rises. 

Already, like a continuation from last night’s phone call, Hizashi rambles on about anything and everything he can conjure up in his high-speed brain. He talks and talks until they step into class, met with twenty heads turning in their direction. 

Hizashi removes his arm from around Shota’s shoulders but his posture remains tall, a cocky grin split across his pretty face. He takes his seat first, still babbling about nothing in particular. 

Shota scans the room, and all the eyes that follow him. All except for one, Hana Yuki. Her eyes are fixated on the blond facing away from her. 

He should feel sorry for her, really. But something hot and possessive sears through his nervous system, overriding his rational mind’s authority. He leans over Hizashi’s desk, raking his fingers through the fine hairs on the back of his neck. The boy’s chatter fizzles out, like a record thrown off track as Shota places the softest kiss he could manage to his lips, claiming him.  

Hizashi blushes deep red, almost purple and Shota’s sure his own face matches. He takes his seat, sharing one last glance at his boyfriend before class begins. Hizashi smiles bashfully back at him- good . That’ll be the last display of affection he ever shows in public but at least the message is across. 

He reflects on how he felt when he first met the boy in the beginning of the school year. In some ways, his feelings have remained the same, only now his understanding of those feelings has expanded into something more passionate and complex. 

Hizashi Yamada is loud, obnoxious, and inappropriate. But he’s also intelligent, creative and captivating. And more importantly, Hizashi Yamada see’s Shota for all that he is, and chooses to love him anyway.