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seen from Switzerland
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Allerasermic Week 2018 - Day 1: Dawn/Start
heroes will be closed today due to nobody want to get outta bed
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Additional Tags: Angst, Insecurity, Polyamory, Self-Worth Issues Series: Part 7 of AllEraserMic Week 2018, Part 4 of New Beginnings (AllEraserMic) Summary:
All good things come to an end sooner rather than later, and Hizashi knows it’s already been too long.
Some casual angst, anyone?
@allerasermic-week
There’s always been something soothing about the rain. Hizashi doesn’t much care for being caught in it, but on nights like this, safe inside with the lights dimmed low, he finds it befitting his quiet melancholy. The huge window in his third floor flat looks out over the streetlit, soaked grey city, the muffled sounds as distant and muted as the traffic lights below as raindrops patter against the windowpane. The world somehow feels both far away and immediate, and perspective loses its importance as he allows his unfocused gaze to drift, his arms looped tightly around his knees. It's cool where he sits curled up on the floor, the night air whispering against his skin, but he makes no move to get back up and fetch a blanket or a top. He makes no move to go anywhere at all, because the only option he really has is to go back through to his bedroom, where Toshinori and Shouta are sound asleep, and he won't do that. He's too afraid to disturb them, and to let them know that, alone at night, he sits in silence with nothing but his worries to keep him company.
Somewhere distant, a siren flashes, and his interest stirs of its of volition. Realising there's no need to react, his attention slips again, his ever-present fear creeping closer, bearing down on him.
He looks out, he counts, without counting, the raindrops pattering against the glass, and he tries not to acknowledge the thing he's afraid of. Its grotesque shadow grows larger every day, feeding off of every happy moment and whispering that it’s only a dream, and he whimpers softly as he realises it’s the truth. He can’t outrun it forever. Soon this will be over, his lovers gone, and all he’ll have is bittersweet memories. He ought to make them count, but he’s too afraid to reach out, and too saddened by the impending conclusion of yet another relationship to pick himself up from the floor and go back to bed. His head, heavy with mournful silence, comes to rest against the windowpane, his chest labouring beneath the weight of stifling dread. He tries, for a little while longer, to ignore his fate, to focus on something – anything – else.
He focuses on the cold glass against his brow as he leans against the window, the hardness of the floor bruising his bones, the tingling of a leg that went dead some time ago. He focuses on all the little details – the distant cars, the smallest whisper of an aeroplane, the faint hum of his fridge clicking on through in the kitchen – and lets them fill his thoughts as if they can protect him from the truth, or distract him for a little while longer from the fact that his world is about to come crashing down around him. His heart, bruised and battered as it is, loves too easily, and brings him more pain than he can bear. This, he thinks, is the culmination of a lifetime wasted looking for something he can never have, because he doesn’t deserve it.
He’s never deserved it. Person after person, lover after lover, and supposed friend after friend have left him. There’s something wrong with him, with the way he is, the way he lives, and the way he loves. The moment he lets someone in he puts an expiry date on their relationship, and this time… This time it hits harder, because one of the two people now closest to him is the only person who, despite years of being in his life, hasn’t left. He was foolish to allow this to happen, so desperate for love and affection, and to belong, that he let that longing blind him. It’s better to live a lifetime of unrequited love than to know he, and his feelings, are unwanted.
The heavy, familiar, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach won’t relent. He doesn’t know how much longer he has left, or how much more time he can buy. The precious few moments he has left to him need to count, because he’s never going to find this again. The fleeting light and warmth that has, for some unfathomable reason, graced his life is about to go out, and there’s nothing he can do – nothing about him – that can prevent it.
The fractured world beyond his rain-spattered window shatters even further, overburdened raindrops running down the glass as a tear trails down his cheek. He makes no move to stop it, or to wipe it away, and it drips from his jaw, moments later joined by another. Silently, alone and knowing that no one else will, he weeps for himself.
-
How much time passes while he cries he cannot guess. The distant sound of water running in the bathroom barely registers, his unfocused gaze still fixed on the streets below, and before he can react he realises he’s no longer alone. The light is flicked on, an audible gasp reaching him, and he knows he ought to move, he ought to pull a smile into place and pretend he’s okay before anyone can see.
“Hizashi!” Toshinori breathes, padding forward, and it’s too late. It’s too late to hide, to pretend that the scene Toshinori has come across is anything but what it is. Propped uncomfortably against the window in a rigid ball of unease, his leg now dead and a dull ache in one hip, Hizashi has forgotten how to unclasp his hands, and can't find the strength to look up when Toshinori draws near, sinking to the floor beside him.
“What’s wrong?” Toshinori whispers, full of concern. "I got up to use the bathroom and you were gone.”
Tongue moving slowly, Hizashi finds his voice. “I’m fine,” he lies, although he doesn’t put much effort into it. His voice is too thick, far too tight, for the fabrication to be believed, and in the harsh artificial light he knows the teartracks are visible on his cheeks. He shivers, hating his own reflection, and waits for Toshinori to leave.
There's a moment of hesitation before Toshinori asks: "May I sit with you?"
Hizashi can't say no. Instead he says nothing, wondering how to cope with being seen so naked. It's too late to pull a smile into place, too late to dismiss his voluntary isolation as anything but what it is.
Toshinori eases himself into a more comfortable position as he faces Hizashi, crossing his legs and loosely clasping his hands in his lap. Hizashi keeps his attention on the blurry world beyond the glass, and if drinking in the muted detail will anchor him somehow, and shut out his own reality.
"You know you can talk to me," Toshinori says softly, his words as kind and gentle as the man himself. There's such warmth and sincerity to everything he does it's hard to bear; his hands on Hizashi's skin always feel like heavenly cruelty, and Hizashi knows the paths they trace and the tender touches he's graced with will forever be etched into his soul. No matter how great the passage of time, he will always remember Toshinori's touch.
He will always remember Shouta's too. His love for him love, so long cradled and held close like the precious thing is it, is now on the verge of being exposed to a tearing wind, the ferocity of which will wrench its life from Hizashi's breast and leave him with nothing more than a forlorn ember. He wonders if he can articulate to Toshinori how it feels to stand on the edge of the precipice and feel the darkness closing in from every angle, creeping closer and yawning wider and wider before him.
"Hizashi?"
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he deflects, his gaze still on the city beyond his window. "Especially at night, all the lights..."
"What's bothering you?" Toshinori carefully pries, his voice thick with concern. He leans forward, carefully reaching out, and a large, warm hand slides onto Hizashi's knee, the contact jarring. The night hadn't felt quite so cold until Hizashi realised what warmth felt like. "Please tell me? Or at least come back to bed. It feels empty without you there."
“I’ll come back in a bit,” Hizashi lies.
Toshinori watches him for a moment, and Hizashi tries to hide, pulling his knees in tighter and grimacing as his aching joints protest.
“Please come back now,” he implores. “Please? I miss you being next to me.”
He won’t for much longer, Hizashi knows. Soon he’ll be glad for his absence, relieved to be free of him. Hizashi can’t help the bitter, broken words that tumblr from his trembling lips: “You have Aizawa.”
“Ai—?” Toshinori echoes, taken aback. Hizashi pulls away a little further, slipping from Toshinori’s touch. “No, Hizashi. Don’t…”
“Don’t what?” he challenges, at last looking up, meeting Toshinori’s alarm with defiance. “How do you think this is going to end? Don’t be naive. This is just a moment in time. There is no happily ever after; not for people like me.”
“People like you?” Toshinori repeats, his voice smaller than Hizashi has ever heard it. He can see the knife twisting in his heart, and feels it in his own. Toshinori seems afraid to continue. “Hizashi...”
He thought there might be a little more time – a night or two, maybe, or one last bittersweet date – before this moment came. He’d hoped he might gather a few more precious memories before he lost the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Despite not being ready, Hizashi pretends he is. Taking a breath that throws the sharp, painful cracks in his breaking heart into relief, he shrugs as if the truth is fact and nothing more, not the heartbreaking burden that is it. “People leave and ghost me for a reason, Yagi. You must have realised that.”
Toshinori is still staring, his mouth open and heart racing. Hizashi can see the frantic flutter of it beneath skin it’s been his greatest joy to kiss and caress, and sees the way Toshinori shudders as he draws breath. “No,” he whispers, his voice wavering as he defines what Hizashi is trying to tell him. “Please, that’s not… You’re not. I won’t, I would never.”
“And how many times do you think I’ve heard that?” Hizashi breathes, what little strength he had left leaving him. “How many times…”
Toshinori reaches out again, his fingers trembling as they graze against Hizashi’s hand, and he doesn’t have the energy left to pull away. He blinks, fresh tears falling, and a sob rises in his chest as he sees the devoted, almost helpless way Toshinori looks at him. This one, last time of losing someone is going to end him. It’s going to tear his heart, still beating, from his battered chest, and Hizashi almost gives a hiccup of laughter when he realises how stupid it was to try and find happiness with these two men. In turning to Shouta and Toshinori he’s also made sure he loses not just lovers, but friends.
“I know my words might not mean anything,” Toshinori says softly, stroking Hizashi’s hand and gently curling his fingers around it. “But please come back to bed. Let us show you how much we love you.”
That word, so unexpected, crushes the air from Hizashi’s lungs as it pierces him. He stares, unable to draw breath, as what he’s heard echoes in his mind. There’s no way, no way…
“You…” he manages, licking his dry lips. “You don’t love me. You can’t.”
“That’s not for you to decide,” Toshinori counters, gentle in his insistence. His fingers entwine with Hizashi’s, and he takes advantage of his surprise, leaning forward and bowing his head so he might kiss Hizashi’s hand. “I don’t think it’s for anyone to decide, it just is. Now, please come back to bed where you belong. I’m not leaving you out here alone, and I know you don’t want Shouta to wake without us there.”
It’s an effective blow, catching Hizashi when he’s already utterly off-balance. He doesn’t resist when Toshinori starts to stand, urging him to follow. He rises, still staring, wondering if he imagined those words.
“You don’t love me,” he repeats, wincing and almost tumbling back down to the ground as pain lances through his hip and his dead leg gives way.
Despite his thin stature, Toshinori catches him and holds him with ease. The warm scent of his skin fills Hizashi’s senses, making everything hurt so much more.
“Years ago,” Toshinori murmurs, his voice echoing through his chest and into Hizashi, “I vowed to myself I would never become involved with anyone. I had so much to think about, so much to worry about, and I didn’t want to drag anyone into that, or to put them at risk because of who I was. From the very first day, I knew I had to live alone. When I was injured…”
His voice trails off, and Hizashi tries to hold his sore, trembling body still as he waits for more.
“I never thought I’d find happiness. I was content not to even seek it out.”
Despite himself, Hizashi reaches up and twists his fingers into Toshinori’s top, clinging.
“And then I met you. I met Shouta.”
The rest doesn’t need to be said. A gentle kiss is pressed to Hizashi’s brow, and he allows it, wondering what in the world made someone as beautiful and kindhearted as Toshinori fall for him, and how long it will last. The gentle touches do nothing to hold together his breaking heart, but the warmth and tenderness is better than the cold, hard floor.
Even if it’s just for one more night, a few hours more, he’ll take this.
“Come,” he’s urged, and this time Hizashi follows, allowing himself to be led to bed. The light is turned off as they leave the room, and by the time they reach the bedroom his eyes have adjusted. He sees Shouta, alone beneath the quilts, still sound asleep and breathing evenly. As quietly as he can, Hizashi slinks towards the bed.
Toshinori has other ideas. He slides beneath the covers behind Hizashi, hemming him in, and then reaches around Hizashi’s middle and, while holding him, nudges Shouta.
“Shouta,” he says, causing Hizashi to wither.
Tired, bleary eyes open, blinking once before Shouta jolts awake. “Hizashi!” he breathes, reaching out and caressing his tear-stained cheek. “You’re cold!”
Strong arms wrap around him, Shouta sliding closer without a moment of hesitation. He buries his face against Hizashi’s neck, breathing deeply against his skin and hooking his leg over Hizashi’s.
“I’m fine,” Hizashi tries to lie, the threat of tears choking him up at the unquestioning acceptance. He’s going to miss this more than he can ever say, and he doesn’t know how to cling without making his distress obvious.
“Don’t cry,” Shouta murmurs, nuzzling against him. “Whatever it is, you’re okay. You’ve got us.”
That, for some reason, makes him cry. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to lose this, but he knows it’s inevitable. He can’t hold on forever. Shouta’s warmth at his front and Toshinori’s comforting presence at his back, chasing away the chill in his bones and soothing the ache in his limbs, won’t last forever.
“I’ve got you,” Shouta promises, kissing Hizashi’s jaw and pulling back just enough to wipe away his tears. He doesn’t flinch when Hizashi sniffs, carding his fingers through his hair and gazing at him in the near darkness as Hizashi feels himself fall apart, his lungs spasming in a poor attempt to draw air into his chest. His whole body trembles, his hands opening and closing pathetically as he tries to anchor himself.
Behind him, he feels Toshinori’s unsteady breath gusting against his neck. “We’ve both got you,” he whispers. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“Exactly,” Shouta agrees without hesitation, wriggling closer and now holding them both. “Whatever’s wrong, we’re here for you. You don’t have to face it alone.”
The idea that this can last is a cruel, unattainable dream, and for a minute Hizashi can’t help crying harder, shaking and trembling as he hides his face in the pillow in an attempt to stem the flow of tears and smother the sound of his heart breaking. The warmth of their bodies is almost unbearable, soothing him, slowly lulling him back into silence with gentle hands on his body and in his hair, kind lips trying to chase away a darkness that will never be absent from his life.
All good things come to an end sooner rather than later, and Hizashi knows it’s already been too long. Too tired and too drained to fight the exhaustion creeping over him, he allows his body to go lax between the two amazing men who have, for some reason, allowed him into their lives for this brief, unbearably wonderful flicker of time. It can’t last much longer…
As sleep tugs at him, and as his breathing evens out and deepens, Hizashi can’t help wondering if he’ll wake alone.
The Perils of Paparazzi
Pairing: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic
Summary: A group of villains targets the former Number One hero. The mass media thinks he and a certain voice hero are dating. With Hizashi as a convenient body guard, queue shenanigans
For @allerasermic-week challenge
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7
Schooled on Villainous Intentions
Pairing: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic
Summary: Other students of 1-A attempt the special summer course
For @allerasermic-week challenge
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Additional Tags: Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Fluff, Happy, Not Beta Read Series: Part 6 of AllEraserMic Week 2018, Part 3 of Changes (AllEraserMic) Summary:
Hizashi takes another step towards her future, letting her Hero persona change to reflect who she is now.
@allerasermic-week
and @realmikedirnt who encouraged me to finish this event
Hizashi doesn’t think she’ll ever grow tired of how freeing it is to be herself. The simple joy of wearing the clothes she wants and walking hand-in-hand with her boyfriends makes her heart soar. At first it was hard to take the way people stared, but it wasn’t long before Hizashi realised, with some help from her partners, that people were staring just as they’d always done. Polyamory draws attention, and a beautiful woman with the former Number One Hero on one arm and another handsome man on the other will draw even more attention. People are no doubt envious.
And Hizashi has come to love it. Her heart bursts with pride as she walks with Toshinori and-or Shouta, and she feels like she can take on the world with them at her side. After all, they’re her everything, the two people who welcomed her unquestioningly with open arms when she came out to them. That time spent in darkness, lost and afraid, worried about what the future would hold, is becoming a valuable but distant memory, and although she still has her given name, she feels that the person she was is falling away with each step she takes: coming out to friends and colleagues, starting hormone therapy, updating her birth certificate. Today is another step, and it will put the past more firmly behind her. She’s even toying with trying out another new name – Minami sounds nice, and she can keep the same kanji for her name.
With Shouta out on a weekend patrol, it’s just Toshinori who can accompany her to the outfit agency. She doesn’t need to go so high-end as the only part of her costume that requires technical attention to detail is her directional speaker, but she fell in love with the outfitters work years ago, and has stuck by them.
The request she put in for a new outfit had been approved without question, and yesterday she received a message saying it was ready for collection.
Her Hero Licence will be updated too, and she honestly can’t wait. The appointment is for later in the day, an hour after Shouta’s patrol should end. She wants him there for that.
Squeezing Toshinori’s hand and turning towards him with a grin splitting her face, Hizashi finds herself speechless for a moment. She doesn’t think there’s a word that can describe how happy she feels.
“Excited?” Toshinori asks, smiling at her.
Hizashi nods. “I can’t wait!”
“It’s going to look amazing.”
She can’t help agreeing, having every faith in the outfitters. “Do you think we should send Shou-chan pictures, or wait until he gets home?”
“Wait, I think,” Toshinori decides. “He knows we’re picking it up, but it will be a nice surprise.”
“Yeah,” Hizashi agrees distractedly, seeing the building ahead and staring at it with unfocused eyes, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagines what Shouta’s reaction might be. He’s been nothing but supportive her whole life, honest with his critique where it counts, and she likes to imagine he’ll be thrilled with the design Hizahi submitted.
First, though, she has to see how it turned out.
They don’t have long to wait in the reception area before they’re greeted by one of the top designers and shown through into one of the wardrobe rooms. The spacious area is fitted with mirrored walls and a private changing area at one end, as well as comfortable seating for anyone waiting at the other, and a covered mannequin waits for her. It’s a lovely space to be in, and Hizashi can’t help catching her reflection, admiring the way her body has started to change.
“Are you ready?” the designer says, crossing over to the mannequin and taking a hold of the cover. “We hope you are pleased with the result. I personally oversaw its creation!”
The sheet slides away to reveal something far, far better than Hizashi could ever have envisaged, and her hand comes up to cover her mouth as she gasps. The costume looks incredible, capturing exactly the kind of image Hizashi wants to embody as a Hero.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, stepping forward to touch the jacket. It’s made of the same, highly durable but flexible pseudo-leather as her old one, and feels wonderful to the touch, soft and thick, the detail around the new, more mainstream collar drawing her eye and her touch. All in all, not too much has changed from the old design, but the new colour scheme of maroon and black, adorned with silver embellishments, is striking. She can’t wait to try it on.
“Would you like a hand with it?” she’s offered, as is standard.
“Just to get it from the model,” she requests, already drawing her hand from Toshinori’s so she can slide it beneath the jacket and ease the garment from the mannequin. It’s beautifully tailored, designed just for her, and something about that detail causes a lump to rise in her throat. This is an important milestone, just as profound as the time she got her first outfit.
She’s shown to the spacious changing room, and the designer carefully places her new boots on the floor and the new gloves on the small table for her. “Just call if you need a hand.”
“Thank you,” Hizashi nods, impatient to get the door closed. The moment it’s shut, Toshinori casting a grin her way before it’s closed, Hizashi shucks her skirt and top, stripping down to her underwear with next to no regard for the garments she’s discarding. Nothing is quite so beautiful in that moment as the promise of an exquisite new Hero costume.
And it’s perfect. Even before the pants are fastened and the lightweight, breathable top eased into place, she knows it’s hers. In the past, especially with her first outfit, there had been a lot of tweaking, details here and there that needed adjusting or altering. There will no doubt be minor things she wishes to change in a few months, but for now… The jacket slides into place as if it’s a second skin, warm and comforting in its sturdiness, and Hizashi feels like she can breathe. The ankle boots, with their weapon-like spikes adorning the three inch heels, are cushioned for comfort, and are as gorgeous as they are durable. It’s hard for Hizashi to stay still, and to contain her excitement at the prospect of going on her first official shift in her new gear.
Combing her hair back and posing, admiring the different angles, Hizashi closes the jacket and smooths her hands over it, gaze and touch fixed on the growing swell of her breasts. The jacket doesn’t hide or accentuate them, but the subtle, feminine silhouette of her own body brings a lump to Hizashi’s throat. This is who she truly it. She’s herself at last.
Her hands falling away with a sigh, she at last tugs on the gloves. They’re soft, but not yet worn, and she flexes her fingers, getting a feel for them as she reaches to open the door. Toshinori is waiting excitedly on the other side, and is out of the plush sofa the moment Hizashi swings the door open.
“Oh my god!” he breathes, a hand clutching at his chest. His eyes wide, he drinks in the sight of Hizashi, and she can’t help preening under his gaze. “You look so beautiful!”
“Doesn’t she!?” the designer agrees, moving towards Hizashi long before Toshinori has regained his composure. “How does it feel, Yamada-san? Are there any adjustments you’d like us to make?”
She shakes her head, flexing her hand tugging at the glove. There are studs on the back of it, both attractive and practical in hand-to-hand combat. “No. It’s perfect.” And then she looks up at them, beaming. “Thank you!”
The designer bows. “It has been our great pleasure. Now, if you’ll permit me, I took the liberty of having these ordered too.”
Curious Hizashi glances towards Toshinori, who has come to stand by her side, and the two of them watch as a small case is produced. Hizashi takes it carefully, and then realises what it is. She almost laughs when she opens the case up and sees a new pair of glasses in them, the frames silver-grey and the lenses tinted a soft red that matches her new outfit.
“I hadn’t thought about my glasses!” she giggles, switching them over immediately. “Oh okay, this is different.”
“Good different, or bad different?” Toshinori asks.
“I don’t know,” Hizashi admits, stepping away from them both to check her reflection in the wall-to-wall mirror. The person staring back at her is breathtaking, and it’s still strange to think that the strong, beautiful woman in the mirror really is her. A touch to the frame of her glasses confirms it, and Hizashi finds herself smiling again. “They look amazing.”
Toshinori is grinning at her, the designer clasping their hands and looking pleased. Free to do so, Hizashi moves back a little and shifts her pose, admiring the different angles the room’s mirrors allow her to see. Only her directional speaker is missing, but the outfit still looks complete. She touches it again, and then crouches down abruptly, stands, goes through some basic kicking motions to test the range of the fabric, all the while grinning.
“I love it,” she announces. “Absolutely love it! Thank you!”
“You are welcome, Yamada-san. Now, if I may, I’ll leave you for a few minutes while I package the rest of your things.”
She nods, and a second later she’s alone with Toshinori.
“Wow,” Toshinori breathes, moving in close again. His hands run over the new outfit, admiring it. For once, his gaze is more on Hizashi’s clothes than Hizashi herself. “And it fits perfectly first time. It was meant to be.”
“Well, I have been using them for over ten years, they have all my measurements on record.” Well, almost all her measurements. Her body is a little different now. “But you’re right. It does feel amazing!”
Toshinori still smiling, pulls out his phone and waggles it in question.
“Yeah,” Hizashi agrees, wanting to make the most of the fitting room while she can. “And then let’s head home. I can’t wait to show Shou-chan.”
“He’s going to love it.”
“He is!” Hizashi says excitedly, twirling and letting her hair fly out. She feels free: strong and beautiful, and the Hero she was meant to be.
-
Taking her outfit off to have it safely packet away for transportation feels like one of the hardest things Hizashi has ever had to do, until she realises she going to have to endure the three hour wait until Shouta’s patrol is over. At Toshinori’s suggestion, she leaves her outfit alone, only putting on her shoes to ‘wear them in’. It’s unnecessary, but, as they were new and clean, Toshinori allows the compromise. Hizashi thanks him for it with frequent kisses as they work around the house.
The moment she hears the lock in the door, Hizashi bounds into the hallway, letting the wall absorb some of her energy. Shouta is barely over the threshold before Hizashi flings her arms around him, burying her face in a mixture of capture weapon and hair.
“Shou-chan!” she breathes, smelling the fresh air clinging to him.
A hand comes up to pat her back. “It went well, then?” Shouta deduces.
“Yes!”
Shouta eases them back, pressing Hizashi against the wall before pulling back and letting his attention run over her. “Well, they’re very pretty boots, but where’s the rest of it?”
Hizashi can barely speak for the grin splitting her face. “Give me a minute!”
And then she darts into their bedroom, hearing Toshinori greet Shouta and the two of them discuss something in low, melodic tones. It’s such a familiar, soothing sound that Hizashi feels her heart ache. Who knew she would ever find such happiness?
Her outfit on, and her hair brushed through to make sure it’s neat, she leaves the bedroom.
Shouta and Toshinori are still standing in the hallway, and Shouta stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees Hizashi, his eyes going wide. Toshinori, having seen it already, just grins.
“I told you it was gorgeous,” Toshinori says, sounding vindicated, and more than a little proud. Hizashi’s heart skips a beat that that, and she turns a little, showing off for Shouta.
“Do you like it?”
It takes another ten, long seconds for Shouta to answer. In that time, he steps forward, reaching out to stroke the collar of the jacket, his eyes drinking in every detail. “It’s…” he says, and then swallows before trying again. “It suits you.”
“And the glasses?” Hizashi asks, a little uncertain about that detail.
With her heels on, Shouta has to look up to Hizashi, and he smirks. “Nice touch.”
“You like them?”
“I like them.”
Hizashi feels tension she didn’t realise she was carrying melt from her body.
“You look wonderful, baby,” Shouta praises, and Hizashi finds herself grinning again.
“Shall we get going?” Toshinori asks.
“Wait, is it time?” Hizashi panics, having expected to have another half hour before they needed to leave.
“Doesn’t hurt to be early,” Shouta shrugs
“Let me just grab my jumper,” Toshinori excuses, disappearing for a moment and then coming back with the cosy garment tugged into place. “Okay! Let’s go!”
Hizashi can’t argue with that and, thrilled to debut her new look, she settles happily between her two boyfriends as they make their way out.
-
The paperwork takes longer to fill out that Hizashi thinks it ought to, with more boxes for her signature than there are pages, but, at last, she’s done, and the paperwork disappears into the Registry office while the three of them wait. Hizashi can hardly keep still, tapping her foot and rocking back and forth on her heels. She’s too excited to sit down. Shouta seems to be napping in the corner, which doesn’t surprise her, and Toshinori is look almost wistfully around, a smile on his face.
“What is it?” Hizashi asks after another few minutes have elapsed.
“Oh, I don’t,” Toshinori shrugs, “just thinking about change.”
Hizashi grins. “Me too.”
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Toshinori asks. “I didn’t always think so; I was afraid.”
Hizashi knows what he’s talking about, and nods gently. “It’s lead to a lot of good things.”
“I would never have guessed,” Toshinori admits.
“And yet, here we are,” Hizashi smiles, and glances towards Shouta.
“Here we are,” Toshinori echoes, moving closer and leaning in to kiss Hizashi.
It’s at that moment that a bell chimes, and an abrupt voice calls out her new hero name. Hizashi pulls away, and notices that Shouta has woken up. He rises from his seat to join Toshinori as they wait for her.
“Here is your new Hero License,” the cleric says, handing it over.
Hizashi grins, looking down at her new photo and Hero name. “Thank you,” she breathes, almost laughing when she discovers her hands are trembling with excitement. “Thank you so much!”
And then she turns to her partners, grinning and holding the precious license out. “Look!”
“Congratulations,” Toshinori says warmly, before they pull her into a hug, Toshinori kissing her cheek while Shouta looks at the card and smiles.
“It’s a good photo,” he says, and then kisses Hizashi’s cheek. “I’m proud of you, ’Zashi.”
“Thank you,” she says, for the third time in less than thirty seconds. “Oh god, yes! I can’t wait to show it off!”
“Well come on, then,” Shouta says, starting to pull away. “I can’t believe how long that took. If we don’t leave now we’ll be late.”
“Late?” Hizashi echoes, another kind of excitement blossoming within her as she carefully tucks her license into her jacket. “Late for what?”
“We’ve made a reservation at the karaoke bar,” Toshinori explains. “A lot of your friends wanted to be there to celebrate.”
“We thought we could make an evening of it.”
Hizashi feels like her heart might burst. “Oh god! I love you both so much! Thank you!”
“Come on, Prima Diva,” Shouta says, sliding his hand into Hizashi’s. “Let’s go show the world what you’re made of.”
Heyo!! Delta here~ Thank you all so much for participating in the AllEraserMic week 2018. I think it went really well considering the first week in September tends to be very busy for many people. Don’t worry about submitting late, just @ the bog or shoot me a message and I’ll reblog it! I’ll probably stop reblogging 2018 posts by the end of December since it’ll be a new year!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Additional Tags: Communication, Talking, Developing Relationship, Polyamory, Not Beta Read Series: Part 5 of AllEraserMic Week 2018, Part 3 of New Beginnings (AllEraserMic) Summary:
He never meant to fall in love. He never meant to fall at all.
But life has a way of making you stumble, particularly when you least expect it.
@allerasermic-week
It's impossible to miss the change. Toshinori knows, the instant he sees them, that something has happened between the two men, and that they're together now. A cold, lonely sadness grips his heart in the same instant a warm, selfless rush of relief floods him, and he chooses to focus on the latter. Aizawa and Yamada are good men. They deserve each other.
They deserve every happiness.
Toshinori turns away, trying not to acknowledge the broken part within him that years for something like that too. He came to understand, long ago, that he couldn't involve himself with others. Back then it was about preservation – of his lovers' lives, of his image, of the time he needed to train and work – but now it's about a different kind of consideration. He's old; washed up and damaged, barely living, some days. He wouldn't dream of inflicting that upon someone else. What has he to give? There's nothing left. No matter how it made him feel when Yamada chatted with him, nor how thrilled he was to draw a rare, beautiful smile from Aizawa, he can't reciprocate.
He doesn't get a chance to congratulate them until lunch. The Monday morning schedule keeps them busy, and by the time lunch comes around, Toshinori is nervous. He struggles not to fidget with his cup of tea when the two men, walking so close they might as well be holding hands, approach him.
"I believe congratulations are in order!" he say with forced cheer, pushing a grin onto his face.
Aizawa seems taken aback, and Yamada frowns. "What?"
"Oh, you're, um... Are you not together? My apologies, I thought..."
He feels foolish, and drops his gaze, wishing he didn't always put his foot in his mouth.
The sofa dips beside him, Aizawa settling next to him rather than next to Yamada, who takes the chair opposite.
"Yes, we are," Aizawa says a little offhandedly.
"But we haven't told anyone yet," Yamada adds. "We wanted to tell you first – to talk to you, actually."
"To talk to me?"
"Yeah," Yamada confirms, "if that's okay with you? Maybe we can meet up after work? There's a nice cafe just a block away. It'll be our treat."
"Oh, I really couldn't," Toshinori politely declines, hoping neither of them pick up on the nervous way his hand trembles. He grips his cup tighter in an attempt to stop it. "I don't want to encroach."
"We're inviting you," Aizawa points out.
"Yeah, please come?" Yamada asks, leaning forward as if in earnest. Toshinori hasn't forgotten that look, the way his vivid green eyes light up with emotion when he talks, and he feels guilty for thinking of Aizawa's boyfriend with even a whisper of longing.
He pushes such things away, along with his hyper-awareness of just how close Aizawa sits, as if he's comfortable in Toshinori's presence; no doubt he just doesn't see any logical reason to worry about personal space.
"I, um... Okay," he relents after next to no persuading. He tries to tell himself he can do this. He can be a good friend.
"Awesome!" Yamada cheers, and Toshinori catches Aizawa smiling, exchanging a look with Yamada."We need to go grab lunch, and I have some marking to do, but we'll see you later, yeah?"
He nods, a little at a loss.
"Don't be late," Aizawa says as he gets up, his thigh brushing against Toshinori's, and oh gods, was he teasing? Flirting?
Fighting back a cough, Toshinori manages to nod. "See you."
Dazed, he stares after them. By the time he realises they're long gone, his tea is cold.
-
Time takes on an odd quality, both stretching on forever and passing in a flash. After what feels like a lifetime, and yet no time at all, he looks up from the lesson plan he's trying to revise for tomorrow to see Aizawa heading towards him. There's a small smile tugging at his lips, the expression soft and nothing like the manic grins he likes to terrorise people with.
"Yagi-san," he greets, and Toshinori can almost imagine that there’s fondness there.
“Aizawa-kun,” he acknowledges, tensing when Aizawa comes closer, invading his personal space yet again. “H-how did lessons go?”
“Well,” Aizawa surmises, glancing over his notes. “Are you done for today?”
Toshinori quickly gathers his notes, aware of the chasm of experience between them. “I think so, yes.”
“Good,” Aizawa says. “Come on, let’s go get Hizashi.”
Hizashi. Not Mic, not Yamada, but Hizashi. It’s so casual, and yet he can tell it’s deliberate. Aizawa isn’t in the habit of slipping like that.
“I think he’s in the staff room,” Aizawa says, waiting for Toshinori to stash his papers away before leading the way out of the lounge. Any attempt by Toshinori to traipse behind Aizawa is met with Aizawa slowing his pace, until Toshinori just gives up and falls into step beside him.
“Are you sure about this?” he can’t help asking, still unable to fathom why the two men want his company. If they’ve just got together then surely they want to be alone? Surely they’d prefer to be alone, and to have the chance to explore their new relationship?
“About what?” Aizawa asks, giving him a sidelong glance.
“Tea? Coffee? I’m not very good company.”
Aizawa gives a soft huff of laughter at that. “Says who?”
Toshinori doesn’t know. No one has ever said it outright, but it’s not hard to infer. Like this, an empty husk, he knows he’s worthless. It’s harder to smile when every part of him aches and there’s no mask to hide behind. He feels less, in every way. Of course he’s not good company.
Still, Aizawa’s challenge to his assumption takes him aback, and he hesitates, stopping just short of the staff room door. “I… don’t know…” he confesses.
With a nod that hints he’s understood more than Toshinori wants him to, Aizawa slides the door open and leads the way inside. As expected, Yamada is working at his usual computer, tapping away at the numberpad.
“Are you ready?” Aizawa asks him, perching on the edge of the desk.
Yamada holds up a finger in answer. “Just a sec… Three more to… go…”
The figures are quickly entered, and, with a few clicks to save an exit the grading system, Yamada leans back in his chair, swinging around to face both Aizawa and Toshinori. He grins broadly at them.
“Hey! My two favourite people!”
“Idiot,” Aizawa mutters so softly Toshinori almost misses it. It’s impossible to miss Yamada’s words, though, and they do things to Toshinori’s heart he never thought possible. The tug of longing is so strong, wrapping around and squeezing tight, while the cold realisation that his already abandoned hope will only ever be a dream pulls him back to himself.
With admirable energy, Yamada springs up from his chair, seeming to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Let’s go!”
“Not so loud,” Aizawa says softly, and Toshinori feels as if he’s prying. He knows the two men have been close since childhood, and he can’t quite decide if they were always like this around each other, or if their new relationship has made them feel comfortable enough to relax around people.
But then, none of the staff or students are gossiping. They’ve gone a whole day at work without telling anyone – apart from him – and without anyone finding out. So they can’t be acting differently; it’s just Toshinori’s perception of their interactions.
“Joining us?”
Yamada’s voice jolts Toshinori from his thoughts, and he clears his throat, trying not to flush as he realises he’s been caught staring. He doesn’t want to think about what kind of expression he was wearing.
“Yes! I, um…”
No excuse is forthcoming. Aizawa watches him almost with concern, while Yamada seems unbothered.
“Let’s go then! I’m dying for a gingerbread latte!”
“You don’t need any more energy,” Aizawa scolds, garnering a pout from his boyfriend before he turns to Toshinori. “Please help me restrain him.”
“Woah, I don’t think… um… Are you…? Oh! You’re joking, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think he is,” Yamada says forlornly. “You won’t be mean to me, will you?”
“Oh, um..”
“Leave him alone, Hizashi,” Aizawa interjects, saving Toshinori – for now at least. He sighs softly to himself, and then realises that they’ve fallen into step with Yamada and Aizawa either side of him. Carefully, he drops back and then positions himself on the outer edge, not wanting to come between them.
He pretends not to notice when Yamada looks up at him and Aizawa gives an almost inaudible sigh, as if he’s done something wrong.
-
The cafe isn’t far, nestled on the corner of the street overlooking the tree-lined road that ambles past. It’s cosy, and Toshinori instantly falls in love with the homely, almost quaint decor. It doesn’t try to be more than it is, and the simple decorations go a long way.
Their selection of teas goes even further still, and he stares, a little in awe. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to pick something – something not too fancy, but not so mainstream that he’s encouraged to pick again – and when the three of them at last settle down in a booth, waiting for their order, he can’t help wondering why Aizawa chose to sit right next to him. He almost feels boxed in, and as the seconds slip by, their tea brought out and served, he can’t help wondering what’s going on.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” he finally asks, seeing that Aizawa is more interested in his tea and that Yamada is oddly silent, alternating between gazing at them both with a small smile tugging at his lips.
“It’s more a proposal, really,” Aizawa say with a small shrug. He rotates his teacup a quarter turn and then stills. “Although we don’t mind if you want to forget we ever had this conversation.”
It sounds far too ominous for Toshinori’s liking, and he swallows thickly, unable to guess where this might be going. Neither of them are giving much away. “Why would I want to do that?” he finds the courage to ask.
“Well, you see,” Yamada says, leaning forward a little more. He looks like he wants to be on the same side of the table as them, and is going to do his damndest to get there. “We both really rather like you” There’s a pause before he tries to elaborate: “Like-like you.”
The addendum does nothing to help clarify. Toshinori blinks at Yamada, lost.
“But you’re…”
“Together?” Aizawa supplies. “So? That doesn’t change the fact that we both find you attractive.”
Toshinori’s jaw almost hits the floor. “You find me…? Like this...?”
He doesn’t know what to do with the direct admission. It still doesn’t quite register. How can anyone look at him and see anything more than a wasted skeleton of a man?
“Yagi-san?”
Yamada reaches across the table, his fingers coming to rest lightly against Toshinori’s hand. It’s an invitation, but Toshinori doesn’t take it. He doesn’t do anything, too taken aback to accept. It would be wrong to accept. Yamada and Aizawa deserve so much more, and they already have it in each other.
“Do you like us too?”
He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, almost laughing. Of course he likes them. Who wouldn’t fall for Aizawa’s kindhearted nature the moment they saw it beneath his stoic exterior, or for Yamada’s vibrant, uplifting personality and smile that makes Toshinori’s heart ache with both joy and longing. The more he’s gotten to know them, the further he’s fallen, and the moment he thinks that, he realises he’s failed. He never meant to fall in love. He never meant to fall at all.
But life has a way of making you stumble, particularly when you least expect it.
Unable to lie, or to construct an escape plan with the few seconds he has, Toshinori pauses, and then nods.
Yamada’s face splits into a grin, his whole body seeming to fill with joy. The fingers resting against Toshinori’s hand twitch and then stroke gently, as if to reassure him of something.
“We talked, you see,” Yamada continues, his voice a little louder in his obvious excitement. “And we both feel our relationship isn’t whole without you. We wanted to ask if you’d be a part of it? If you’ll go out with us – both of us.”
“I…” Toshinori starts, trying to figure out a way to explain what he must.
“I don’t want to hear any self-sacrificing nonsense,” Aizawa cuts in before he can continue. He’s still so close, and his arm brushes thrillingly against Toshinori’s as he reaches out and lets his hand rest next to Toshinori’s too, just touching. “It’s time you took something for yourself. If this is what you want, be a part of it, if it’s not, walk away and we can pretend this never happened.”
Despite himself, and the careful code he’s lived by, Toshinori balks at the idea of walking away. He would never be able to pretend that this hadn’t happened. He’ll have to live with the knowledge that he turned down something beautiful; something precious and priceless.
“I don't know how to do this,” he breathes softly, his words not exactly a ‘yes’, but nor area they a 'no’. “I've never really been in a, um, relationship.”
Yamada looks mildly shocked by that revelation.
“Well, I'm not exactly overwhelmed with experience either,” Aizawa says to comfort him.
“And I've not done anything like this before,” Yamada adds. “But I know we can figure it out, if you want to give it a go?”
They're waiting for his answer, Toshinori realises, glancing between them and letting his head fall a little. He could so easily turn his hand and take theirs. All he has to do is say ‘yes’ and accept their more than generous offer and he’ll have something he never dared to dream he could find. He can, for a while, share in a little of their lives. He has no doubt that his presence in it will be fleeting, for so many reasons, but if they’re okay with that, with gifting him a little joy…
“Yagi-san?” Aizawa prompts gently. “Will you go out with us?”
His hand now trembling, Yagi Toshinori does the most selfish thing he’s ever done, and, with a lick at his dried lips and a turn of his wrist that accepts their touch, he says: “Yes.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Additional Tags: Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Bondage, Japanese Rope Bondage, Suspension, Lingerie, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Roleplay, Riding Crops, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Come Swallowing, Gags, Aftercare, Not Beta Read Series: Part 4 of AllEraserMic Week 2018, Part 2 of Changes (AllEraserMic) Summary:
This is just another way for Shouta and Toshinori to show Hizashi just how much they love her.
8k of porn. Wow.
@allerasermic-week
