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The conversation is not sought after. Really, he would rather it vanish out of sight, out of mind, because it really makes no difference to him.
However, it, of course, like their relationship was -- is inevitable.
"Don't you wish I loved you the same way you do?" Shouta asks him, eyes serious. His lips press into a thin line.
Hizashi sets down his tea.
The honey he'd stirred in it just a little while ago mixes in nicely with the water diluted by milk; there's a buckwheat flavour to the natural aroma already given off by the black tea. Rich. It'd been imported from overseas, the expensive kind.
Throughout his whole debut, this particular brand had nursed him and his measly, petty throat with a penchant for getting ill, despite being the Voice Hero, right back to health. It'd been difficult to stay awake long enough to order it, though, as it sold out quickly, which meant he ordered as much as he could in bulk. With how busy he's been nowadays, he hasn't had time to set down reminders to click onto the site. Which wouldn't even matter anyways. A few years into them selling it, it had changed from 11 pm, his time, to releasing on the site at exactly 2 AM Japan's time on Fridays.
His radio show's from 1-5 AM on Fridays.
What a hassle and a half.
Fingers tracing the rim of the cup, he hums. Brings it to his mouth. Even as Shouta waits, blank-faced, in the seat across from him. Because Shouta, in his loving, endearing way, is patient in the way Hizashi is not.
"When'd you order this, again?" Hizashi asks flippantly.
Blinking, Shouta studies him with something close to astonishment-- as close as they come for someone like Shouta, anyway, whose glare comes out in hives, true smile rare to the unsuspecting eye. "Order what?"
"We have a lot of teabags in the cabinet," he notes lightly, lips stretching into a grin. Hizashi shakes the empty tea bag he'd tossed into one of their other unwashed cups on the table; he hadn't wanted to ruin the moment for himself by standing up and depositing the teabag into the bin, even though it would've been, as Shouta calls it, much more logical. "Particularly of this kind. You wouldn't happen to know that it's my favourite, would you?"
Contradicting to the opinions of their colleagues, friends and students, Shouta does not drink plain coffee. Hizashi does not drink lattes, or anything sweet, when it comes to coffee. Both roles are switched, with Shouta digging into the sweetest thing he can get away with without enquiring a bad case of sugar rush, and Hizashi, on the other hand, would become a turncoat and kill the nearest hero in sight if any sugar were to make its way into his coffee. He takes it black. Without anything.
If there's one thing Hizashi is that Shouta isn't, however... it's that he's a tea drinker.
Shouta detests it; claims tea makes him too sleepy.
Thinking back to his yellow sleeping bag does not make that particular refute any less funny.
So, of course, it's obvious. "Unless you had a change of heart, yes, I know." Shouta answers calmly. "You rave about it constantly. I'd be more surprised if I weren't aware of it with how often you shout it out from the rooftops. Might I remind you that you're not a billboard, Zashi?"
"You're so mean to me!" Hizashi protests, entirely unserious. "I told you that joke from my forum in good faith, you're not allowed to use that nickname against me even if we ARE legally wed! You definitely know it's my favourite!"
Shouta looks away, and suddenly, Hizashi feels cold. Was it about the tea? Had he--
The other sighs. "Right. Wed. Because we love each other, and are in love with each other."
It sounds like he's reciting a manual. Maybe he is; sometimes Hizashi wonders if he has a book up his sleeve all the time. Perhaps he does.
At least he knows it's not about the tea.
Hizashi's eyes crinkle.
"You didn't answer my question," Shouta says quietly, eventually.
Book-thought aside, that prompts Hizashi to finally think on the earlier question. He raises the cup of tea to his mouth, again.
Of course they love each other -- he knows that Shouta loves him.
Maybe not how most people expect it, but then again, were they even allowed to be considered most people? They're, as Shouta so lovingly put it once, 'weirdos'.
So who cares? They chose each other, and that's enough. Nobody's opinion but Shouta's -- and a few others to some extent, though it's irelevant to the current matter at hand, sorry, Nemuri -- mattered to him. When it came to their relationship. How they defined it. Platonic, romantic, whatever. It's up to them to decide what to make of it.
And what Hizashi thinks?
Discarding his tea, Hizashi reaches over to trace a chaste kiss to the corner of Shouta's mouth -- because Shouta dislikes them when they're much too direct, too crushing when their lips actually collide -- and revels in the rush of heat that bursts in his chest, spilling all over the frost.
Yeah, he thinks, staring into Shouta's flushed face, that's pretty much all there is to it.
"So?"
"I love you, Shouta."
"Still not answering my question," Shouta grumbles, but he reaches over to press a kiss to Hizashi's temple. Just the way he likes it.