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"I like you," Shouta slurs.
Hizashi freezes.
I like you.
I like you.
He swallows, letting the words he's wanted to hear for the past 9 years wash over him. He feels like letting himself drown in them, letting the foam crawl over his skin and swallow him whole to be spit right back out into the sea.
Shouta Aizawa finally confesses to him.
I like you.
And he’s not even fully here.
Hizashi’s tears threaten to boil over from his chest and out of his eyes.
What a moment. If only he could immortalize this moment somehow. Crystallize it and frame it, somewhere, behind glass and smiling metal. He's almost glad that Shouta went for underground heroics, a profession where he wouldn't have to bear speaking for the media; this moment would only be for him.
As if you'd get the chance to tell the story anyway, an internal part of him mutters bitterly. There's no shot of you getting the chance. He'll only be embarrassed by you.
Shut up. Shut up. He wouldn't be.
"If only you were sober," he says quietly, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. "Then I'd tell you I like you too, you idiot.”
Shouta blinks slowly, gaze heavy-lidded and glossed over. He simply nods.
With that, Hizashi turns his attention back to getting Shouta to his - Hizashi's, obviously, Shouta doesn't even have anything comfortable in his house besides that stupid sleeping bag that Hizashi has begged the latter to get rid of for SO long - home safely.
The Voice hero merely grunts, gripping the legs wrapped around him tighter, and watches mournfully as Shouta’s head lolls back against the curve of his neck. The tinge of alcohol permeates the air, and he can sense it in Shouta’s hot breath, too.
Absentmindedly, he wonders if Shouta really had those 8 shots, like Nemuri had claimed he had. Nemuri tended to lie, but he wouldn’t put it past the black-haired man. He really couldn’t keep his alcohol well. His friend had always been a lightweight, and sinisterly stupid enough to do shit that wasn’t good for him.
“Tell you what,” Hizashi blurts, the words stumbling out of his mouth faster than he can even think to retract them. He can’t find it in himself to stop now, though. Heroes are always taught to take an opportunity when they see it. And right now, he’s practically been blindsided by it - it’s screaming in his face. So he has to.
So he continues.
“Tell me this again in the morning, Shou.” Hizashi mutters out. “If you really mean it. And if you don’t, I won’t mention this ever again, and we won’t ever have to talk about it.”
He freezes, narrowly avoiding a loose pebble on the floor. He doubts it could’ve harmed them in any way whatsoever, but he’s not willing to risk falling and losing any semblance of what's left of their integrity at 3 am. His arms move to shift Shouta closer to him, and Hizashi swears he imagines Shouta giggling into his ear when he does. Because that's definitely not happened before.
“But if you do,” he finds himself continuing, spurred on. He grins madly, turning his head to the sky. The moon really is pretty tonight. The luminous, glittering crescent smiles back at him with a fervour that reminds him of someone he knows well.
He clears his throat. "If you do, then I’ll tell you I like you, too. For real. And I’ll make you happy. Really happy, Shou. You hear me? Do you believe me? Will you believe in me enough, to say it again? To mean it sincerely, with your whole heart?”
Hizashi doesn't expect Shouta to respond, but...
“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he can almost hear the man say, though that’s impossible. “I’ll be by your side no matter what. Don't make me get emotional.”
It isn’t a lie persay. Shouta Aizawa always knows what he wants, and he always gets what he wants. But the Shouta of right now, clinging to Hizashi’s purple stained, damp shirt, isn’t fully here, and he would never say that.
“Ok,” he can hear the other reply quietly, “Then I will.”
He snaps his attention over to Shouta's face.
With a small sigh - with one arm still carefully holding onto the man - he carefully pushes a loose hair strand out of the man's eyes.
Then he can't help but grin.
The waves wash over him once more, careful reassurances of a promise that Hizashi hopes (with all his heart) will arrive by the horizon.
"Ok... then I will."
In other words, this will go somewhere.
Shouta always keeps his word, doesn't he? Even if it takes forever.
Hizashi hopes that'll be enough.
With a grunt, Hizashi's gaze flickers back forwards. Even though he'd considered it impossible before, his lips curve even more upwards. He thinks his smile will take them to the stars if it grows any wider.
"Time to go home, sleepyhead. Don't forget to confess to me in the morning."