Work Text:
Shouta was too far from you, the distance uncomfortable after a long day of work. He was sitting on one end of the couch while you sprawled out on the other end. He’d been focused on his own work, grading his students’ papers as usual. You knew he would not budge from his spot, not unless he had to.
You were unsurprisingly tired from the day, spending too much time burning up and not enough time in Shouta’s arms. It would’ve been easy just to drop by the school, but you were banned from visiting him after the first time (The lockeroom incident was entirely your fault, and you wore it like a badge of honor). So, you resorted to spam texting him until he responded, dryly.
But now, when you should’ve been draped over his lap, you were left to rot on the couch like some decoration left to collect dust. And no, of course you weren’t being dramatic, this was hardly what you called dramatic. You could do worse, but your muscles ached and burned from the excessive use of hero work.
Worse, it was summer, which meant the heat was completely unbearable. It was hard enough that you produced your own immense heat, rivaling Endeavor’s own fire. Sometimes, your quirk came to bite you in the ass when you least expected it.
“What are you groaning about over there?” Shouta asked, breaking your train of thought.
“Need attention.” You grunted, throwing your head back on the back of the couch and stretching once more. Your arms popped, releasing the tension and leaving you loose and noodle-like.
He raised an eyebrow, “That’s it?”
“I haven’t seen you all day,” You whined, giving him your best puppy eyes. “I missed my pretty sugar plum princess.”
“Please never call me that again,” Shouta said, scrunching his nose up in disgust. “You can wait until I’m done with my work. Go find something to do in the meantime.”
You narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, scoffing. “Go find something to do he says, as if I don’t want to do him.”
You narrowly dodged his slipper thrown your way, “This is spousal abuse, you know?”
“We’re not married, now go.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll go. But I’ll be back.” You said, pointing a menacing finger at him as you scooted off the couch and scampered off. He waved you off and resumed his work, completely zoning you out at this point.
His apartment was smaller than yours, which you came to enjoy after filling the scarily empty apartment with bits of furniture. Shouta was living off of nothing until you ushered him to the store and bought every single thing he could possibly need.
Despite having your own apartment to go back to, you spent more time here than you did there. Never mind the fact that it was a luxury studio apartment with the best skyline view. You had a better view here, anyway.
You lay on his bed, the bed you made him choose after finding out how lumpy his old mattress used to be. It definitely made sleeping in his bed more comfortable when you didn’t wake up with sore muscles and a crick in your neck. You even helped him choose out his bedsheets and pillow covers, all in black per his request.
Now, you plan your revenge. You could hide his sleeping bag, but he might actually kill you if you do that. You could eat all of his jelly packs, but he’d be disappointed instead, and you’d end up just buying him more, so there would be no point to it. Sleeping on it would be the best solution; the best ideas always come after a good nap.
A good idea did come to mind when you woke up an hour later. Shouta wasn’t in bed, which meant he was still working. Which also meant a break was in order.
Strolling back to the living room, you noted him in the same hunched-over position. Standing behind the couch, you leaned over and ran your hands down his shoulders to his chest. You silently thanked whoever created V-neck shirts as you groped his chest.
“Hello, sweetie.”
“Hey,” You felt him tense up for a moment before relaxing. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.” You said in his ear, nuzzling your head into his.
“I’m still working, you know.” He said, leaning his head back on your shoulder.
His hair smelled nice, just like the hair wash you bought him after discovering he was using some off-brand product. He insisted on buying his usual brand, but you kept finding the bottle less empty as time went by.
“You need a break, you’ve been working on this since before I got home. Plus, it’s close to dinnertime and I’m craving some meat right about now.” You replied, slipping your hands down his shirt and grazing your nails down his skin. He shivered underneath your touch. His hand came up to hold your hand over his shirt, stopping its descent.
“Careful,” Shouta warned, his thumb rubbing your hand. “You know I’m sensitive there.”
You grinned ear to ear, nuzzling further into his hair. “I do know. That’s why I’m doing it.”
“Brat.” He muttered, letting go of your hand.
“You love me, admit it.”
He scoffed, but didn’t deny it. You went from nuzzling your nose into his hair to his exposed nape. You were tempted to bite into his skin, not too hard but just enough to fit his flesh into your open maw. It was easier to smell his cologne here, too. It was woodsy with a hint of his own natural scent underneath.
Purely on instinct, your jaw opened up, and your teeth gently sank into his skin. Immediately, Shouta’s hand shot up to grip the back of your neck, wretching you back and ripping you from his neck.
“Ack!”
“Don’t do that,” He scolded, before letting you go. “You can be such a dog.”
You pouted, dropping your head onto his shoulder. “And you can be such a grumpy cat. I think if I look hard enough, I’d find a zipper to open you up and see thirty cats fall out.”
He grunted, his hand coming back up to pet your head. “You sure I won’t find a zipper on you?”
“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “I’m as authentic as they come.”
“Right.” Shouta muttered, his fingernails scratching your scalp ever so lovingly. Your head immediately dropped to his shoulder, squeezing your arms around him. You liked this, this closeness of skin to skin. You and he came a long way from the start of the relationship, so this kind of intimacy felt like a heaven-sent reward for all the terrible things that happened in the past. You felt his shoulders rise and fall as he let out a huff, his hand pausing their ministrations and patting your head.
“Fine.” He eventually said, motioning you forward and lying down properly on the couch.
You stood back and tilted your head to the side, curious. “Hm?”
“Get over here.” He said, patting his lap. You didn’t hesitate to jump over the couch to crawl on top of him, pulling his shirt up along the way to duck your head inside. “Hold on, you’re going to stretch out my shirt—”
You all but collapsed on top of him, head trapped in between his shirt and his bare chest. “This is nice.” You mumbled, rubbing your cheek into his skin.
It was warm here, despite his usually cooler body temperature. His heartbeat was easier to feel here, too. You counted the beats, noting how fast it was going than the average seventy-five beats per minute.
“You comfortable down there?” His voice vibrated through his chest, a pleasant sensation on your face.
“Uh-huh.”
You lay with him for quite some time, enjoying this silence with him. His hands were on you, holding you impossibly closer. You knew he’d fall asleep like this, he always did when you managed to pull him away from his never-ending lesson plans and grading. He did like to sleep, and you made sure he got his naps in before either of you was whisked away by hero work.
Pulling your head out from under his shirt, now stretched out, you leaned your chin back on his chest and stared up at him. His eyes were shut before he opened them, blinking a few times to clear the sleep that was forcing them shut. He stared back, completely lost in his own thoughts while his hand reached up once more to pet your head.
You wanted to marry this man. Maybe six months was too quick to decide you wanted to propose, but why would you be wasting your time hesitating if you weren’t already planning on marrying him?
“Shouta?” You mumbled, leaning into his touch.
“Yeah?”
You opened your mouth before shutting it. Moving to press your lips to his palm, you smiled at him before dropping your head back to his chest.
“Love you.”
You felt his heartbeat skip a beat, a motion that made your smile grow wider.
“I love you, too.” He quietly replied.
Yeah, six months is enough time to decide to propose.