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“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume ya, at the very least, had some sorta plan before charging in like ya did?”
Shouta does his best not to imitate a furnace.
“Yeah," and there's a huff, "I... did."
No, he absolutely did not.
Because he’s Hizashi, he sees through it right away, grimacing. “Dear god, Shouta.”
Pouting seems far too revealing of an option. But, with the way Hizashi's palming at his temples -- hard enough to form undesirable creases between the arch of his eyebrows -- it would do a good deal to veer away from this.
“I’m not lying,” he lies. Pointedly, he keeps his face blank. “I did rationalize over… what was best and what was not beforehand. The only foolish thing I did was take the opportunity as soon as it was handed to me.”
Bidding his morality adieu aside, judging from the way Hizashi simply frowns and pushes aside his sunglasses to peer up at him from under them, this conversation might just be on its merry way to taking a nose dive.
“Really,” Shouta insists wryly. He tucks his face further into his capture weapon.
Mentioning the fact he’d jumped into action because he’d seen someone resembling a ‘ghost’ wouldn’t do them any good, he decides. Nor would the admission to winging it. Hell, especially not the fact that said person turned out, in the end, not to resemble anyone he's known at all.
While Eraserhead’s no one trick pony, agile and acrobatic on his feet because he needs to be, there’s still the precedent of expectation: that for a moment, he thinks on what to do. And then strikes.
Unlike what happened an hour earlier.
His weakness.
Shooting Hizashi a look edging on pleading, almost, there’s a thought: Come on, Hizashi. Take the bait.
Time ticks on. There’s a sigh. Not from him, he realizes delightedly.
Seemingly convinced, his boyfriend’s palms find their way onto Shouta’s shoulder blades, running down his back for a sheer, delightful moment. One stellar, fantastic moment where Shouta thinks he’s managed to get away with it. But a moment it is, because Hizashi’s nails hook into his sweater and tug Shouta into his chest with a harsh ‘oof’.
Grumbling, he tries to pry himself out of Hizashi’s hold with as little strength as he can justifiably use--but to no avail. Over the years, Hizashi’s strength proved no joke; at first, it’d presented itself as something meagre in their first spar, sure, but then it’d grown over the past few years once they’d started sparring regularly. Increasing readily and out of the blue. He's always been a quick study, keen to rewrite his muscle memory.
Shouta has never imagined it being used for this.
“Hizashi,” he protests, muffled into the scent of citrus cologne and cotton-light fabric. Maybe Hizashi isn’t convinced. Still, he lets his arms fold over Hizashi's waist in turn “Let up. You’re crushing me.”
In light of his current predicament, all those words likely came out as “‘Ashi, lut up, yur cruising-me.”
If Hizashi doesn’t recognize those abominations of words strung together, he doesn’t show it. What comes next is much worse.
“Shouta…” he says, trailing off. Shouta pricks his ears up at how pitchy and lithe his name sounds. “I thought we promised not to lie to each other, yeah?”
You didn’t even let me really try, he wants to say. Out of spite. There’s nothing to lie about, he wants to try, again.
The warmth flooding his synapses at the moment from their body heat combined disagrees. As do the embrace of his capture weapon and Hizashi’s own (albeit much more harmless) scarf combined, folding together to form the world’s greatest choker.
“Yeah,” Shouta concedes -- once Hizashi finally relents and doesn’t try to kill him via suffocation, letting him pull off from between his arms. “It’s been a long day."
There’s a hum of acknowledgment. Hizashi does not respond. Green eyes stare down at him hopefully, expectantly.
“…It’s a long story,” Shouta offers up eventually, yielding with a sigh.
“Then take your time,” Hizashi says. His lips curve up in the familiar, cheerful way they do when Shouta gives in and lets him order chicken. He grins with his teeth. “You know I'm always down for a tale.”