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Shoto stared at the screen before him, cursor flashing where the page remained empty but for the question, “what are you most grateful for?” Alongside the text lay an image of their former teacher as a younger man looking windswept in his iconic goggles and capture scarf.
After 45 years of work as a pro hero and teacher, Shouta Aizawa had decided to finally retire. His role in the Final War had pushed him to new levels of heroic fame, a legendary status that an underground hero cannot afford to have.
Rumor had it that a particularly loud blonde had been pleading for a more settled life for the Eraser hero for some time now. At least according to Shoto’s weekly conversations with Izuku, who was now in his tenth year of teaching at UA.
A settled life, a comfortable life, peace. They deserve that. I think I want that. He thought to himself.
After the announcement of Aizawa’s retirement had been made, Principal Nedzu reached out to the former students of the notorious Class 1-A and asked them to do a tribute for the celebration banquet the school had planned.
“Notorious eh? Well we know who that descriptions for huh Roki?” Hanta had teased when their letters for the banquet had first arrived. Waving around the letter in his hand.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Shoto’s sly smile gave him away. “All of our classmates have been fairly ‘notorious’.”
“Yeah, not all of them are top 2 though.” Hanta tapped the letter against Shoto’s forehead.
The request was for typical flowery words involving a favorite moment, lesson, and general sentiments of gratitude. One last assignment from the teacher that did more for them than they could ever truly repay him for.
Shoto had finalized his section on general appreciation. Making sure to point out all of the many ways his teacher had helped improve his skills during his time at UA.
He ran a chilled hand over his face, finding time between surveillance and patrol shifts to form comprehensive thoughts and transcribe them down on paper had been trying.
Shoto looked over to his window, which was in just the right location for the sun to never quite pass through the frame. The shriveled up pathos, a gift from Hanta, was a testament to that. What was he most grateful for? What hadn’t Aizawa done for them over the years?
He turned back to the question before him, uncertain of how to proceed. The blank page frustrating his already worn down state. He stood, stretching his aching muscles.
Hm, perhaps it’s time for a break.
The late afternoon sun poured through the open window casting the room in a dreamy light. Hazy, like an aged photograph. Making the world seem a little softer. A light breeze came by, causing the pages on the desk to flutter. Hanta taped them down, and went back to staring at the screen in front of him. Shoulders hunched slightly, tendrils of dark hair framing a focused expression.
Shoto leaned against the doorframe to Hanta’s room. Head tilted slightly as he took in the scene.
The light tapping of a keyboard and a distant birdsong took over the hum in his mind.
What an image to behold, he thought to himself.
“What are you working on?”
“Oh, hey Roki! Come on in.”
Hanta turned in his chair, smiling and motioned for Shoto to sit.
“Just working on finalizing my segment for that retrospective piece they’re doing.”
Shoto settled himself down into one of the cloth bean bag chairs that littered along the edges of Hanta’s room. A new interest in eclectic furniture that Shoto suspected Mina and Ochako were largely responsible for initiating. Not that Shoto could complain, he was always excited to see what new flea-market find Hanta had to show him. Though he still wouldn’t let him bring home furniture found on the side of the road.
“How is that coming along?”
“Ha, I’m not much of a writer, unless those incident reports count, but I’m sure whatever editor they have for this thing will make me sound somewhat respectable.”
“Oh I’m sure it’s not that bad, you knew him as well as any of us.”
“True as always Roki. Have you finished yours yet?”
“Almost, I still need to work on the final paragraph. What we are ‘most grateful for’ having worked with him.”
“Yeah that’s a tough one.” Hanta said with a smile, running a hand through his hair. “He did more for us than any teacher or mentor I’ve ever had, how do you boil that down to just one thing ya know?”
“Mm, precisely.”
Shoto folded his hands across his lap and tilted his head back, the bean bag rustling as he sunk into it further.
Another bird had joined the song, resulting in a cheerful duet.
Shoto slid his gaze to Hanta. Who had refocused on his task. His brow slightly furrowed and lips moving as he muttered out his thoughts.
It had been nearly 11 years since they graduated. 4 since Hanta and Shoto had both landed jobs at the same agency. And 2 since they became roommates. But they had been friends for longer than all of that, and yet Shoto never quite got used to the look Hanta had placed on his face when he was dedicated to a task. It was an almost terse expression, one rarely seen on the ever smiling hero. He probably had lost more sparring matches than he would like to admit due to that crooked brow.
Would they have met if not for UA? There’s a likely chance they would have at least heard of each other as long as they were both pros. Maybe they would have exchanged greetings at some hero event or convention.
“I think I’ll join you on a break if that’s alright?” Hanta got up from his chair, pulling his hair tie out and setting his glasses on the desk.
Shoto nodded, moving onto his side to face the neighboring bean bag, but to his surprise, Hanta instead moved to lay down next to him. Shoto shimmied as far away as he could to make room, really this chair was not made for two.
Shoto felt his face heat up.
The sunlight framed a halo around Hanta’s hair, his hand propping up his cheek as he gazed down at Shoto. This close, Shoto could count the dusting of freckles on the bridge of Hanta’s nose, 32 to be exact. Hanta smiled at him peacefully and Shoto felt his heart catch for just a moment. He wanted to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair back behind Hanta’s ear, letting his thumb linger on Hanta’s jaw just a moment too long, but he kept his hands firmly tucked under his chin.
“How was your day?” Hanta asked.
That was…not exactly where Shoto’s head was at in this moment, but he appreciated the easy question.
“It was good, thanks. How was yours?”
Hanta smirked, “Good! I went for a run, the birds were out today, and I finally finished that astronomy manga I was telling you about.”
“Insomniacs After School?”
“Yeah, it was good, I’ll lend you my copy if you’d like?”
“I’d like that.”
They stayed like that for awhile, conversing with each other and enjoying the last remnants of sunlight, and eventually even the birds outside quieted down.
By then, they had somehow moved even closer to each other. Hanta moving down to lay almost nose-to-nose with Shoto. It felt intimate, and yet incredibly practiced. Hanta’s breath fluttering lightly over Shoto’s hair, he smelled like cinnamon and incense, warm and inviting.
“What are you most grateful for?” Shoto asked.
“Like, in general?”
“I suppose.”
“Moments like this I think probably.” Hanta’s face reddened slightly at the confession.
“Like this?”
“Yeah, I-um, I like talking with you Roki.”
Hanta was definitely blushing now. He looked away, as best he could given their proximity.
“Mm, I think I would have the same answer to that question as well.”
That made Hanta turn his gaze back to Shoto.
This time, Shoto didn’t ignore the desire to tuck Hanta’s hair back for him. He reached out slowly, dragging his fingers along the side of Hanta’s cheek and rubbing his thumb along his jaw for a lingering moment. Hanta’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away.
“Is it alright if I do this?”
“Uh, y-yeah of course.” Hanta cleared his throat. “Thanks.”
Shoto simply nodded, warming his hand slightly and letting his thumb trail down the side of Hanta’s neck, his fingers carving out words Hanta would never read. Each phrase a confession etched onto Hanta’s skin.
You are beautiful. You are perfect. I love you.
Hanta looked at him with a gentle gaze, as his hand reached up to cup the side of Shoto’s face.
“Sho?”
“Hm?”
“Can I…?”
“Please.”
Hanta slowly pulled Shoto in, his hand moving to grasp more fully at his hair, his eyes moving between Shoto’s gaze and lips.
Shoto closed his eyes and leaned forward, catching Hanta’s mouth with his.
Shoto felt his breath hitch, opening his mouth wider and tasting the cinnamon on Hanta’s tongue.
It was an addicting taste, and Shoto let himself indulge in it, revelling in the sounds he pulled from Hanta. Shoto’s hands moved along Hanta’s shoulders, finally exploring where once he had only had the pleasure of observing from afar. Hanta’s fingers twirled in his hair, leaving trails of sparks wherever they traveled.
After a moment, they pulled away, foreheads pressed together breath mixing between them. Shoto’s heart racing in his chest, his head slightly dizzy, licking the cinnamon taste off his lower lip.
Hanta tilted his head, a toothy grin toying with the edges of his mouth. “So, you love me huh?”
Shoto felt his face pale. How did he catch that? I’m such a fool!
“Wha, I-I can explain!”
Hanta’s grin turned into a full beaming smile as he threw his head back in a laugh. His hand still holding tight in Shoto’s hair.
“Oh, Roki, I love you too.”
Oh.
“Y-you do?”
Hanta, who had now recovered from his brief guffaw, pulled Shoto back in for a chaste kiss.
“Yes, I really do.”
Shoto was sat back at his computer now a few days having passed. He scanned over his submission once last time.
What are you most grateful for?
Those who I have had the privilege of knowing, befriending, and loving over the years thanks to the fortune of sharing a school, a class, and most importantly, a teacher with. Thank you Mr. Aizawa.
He clicked the ‘send’ icon, figuratively mailing off his sentiments of gratitude for Aizawa’s tutelage and guidance over the years.
Hopefully they like it. He thought to himself.
“Hey, Roki!”
Shoto turned in his chair, smiling as his —newly official— boyfriend bounded into the room, carrying a handful of orange slices.
“Hello, Love.”
Hanta blushed, still not used to the nickname. His free hand rubbed at the back of his neck.
“You up for a little outing this afternoon? Mina just texted me about an antique pop up they’re having down the block.”
“I’d love to go!”
Shoto got up to find his shoes by the front door. Hanta following behind, grabbing a set of keys and popping the last orange slice in his mouth.
Shoto paused for a moment, taking in the frankly domestic scene.
I think this is the settled, comfortable, and peaceful life I have been wanting for.
“You coming Roki?” Hanta’s offered hand outstretched towards Shoto.
“Yup!”