An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/7
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Additional Tags: Post-Break Up, Kissing, Mutual Masturbation, Getting Back Together, there is gonna be some angst but mostly happy shit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Series: Part 4 of EraserMight Week 2k18
Summary:
Toshinori walks back into his life six year later and Aizawa has to deal with a bunch of feelings he swore he outgrew since he left.
DAY 4- longing / abandoned / without you i’m just a sleepwalker
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might
Characters: Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, mention of Shimura Nana, Class 1-A
Chapters: 1/1
Series: Day 3 of EraserMight Week 2k18
Summary: "Aizawa doesn’t love that kind of places: when he’s there, he doesn’t like to be so exposed to other people’s pain and he likes even less the feeling of not being able to shield himself from intrusive gazes that stare at him like, among those grey and white stones, it was their damn right to peer into his grief without knowing anything about him. Shouta has his own ways of honouring people that aren’t among them anymore and visit their stones is rarely among them."
Aizawa finds himself in a cemetery and meets the last person he should see there - Yagi.
[Day 3: "does it almost feel like you’re been here before"].
Wordcount: 1,845
Rating: T
Tags: the morning after the night before, sort of drunk kissing, silliness, crushes
It turns out that, while drunk, Shouta not only mistook a statue for Toshinori but he tried to kiss it.
Read on AO3
So the prompt was the aftermath of Shouta mistaking the statue for Toshinori. And kissing it.
CW for drunken shenanigans the night before.
The look of glee on Hizashi’s face does not bode well. It’s too early in the day for Shouta to be dealing with his friend’s excessive energy, but as Hizashi is currently fixing him breakfast it doesn’t seem like he has much of a choice.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Hizashi sing-songs, dancing on the spot as he dishes up the miso soup. “How’s the headache?”
Shouta grunts, sliding into the stool at the breakfast bar. A blister pack of painkillers and a tall glass of water is waiting for him, and by the time he’s finished it, Hizashi is shoving a bowl under his nose.
“Eat up!”
“You’re too loud. Why don’t you have a hangover?”
“I don’t have a hangover because I know how to handle my drink,” Hizashi smirks, taking the seat next to Shouta and leering at him.
Shouta scowls, and then gives up on glowering at his so-called friend when it makes his headache worse. He wants to close his eyes and bury his head in a soft cloud of cotton wool.
“And besides,” Hizashi continued, tucking into his own portion of food, “it was too much fun to forget!”
There’s something in the way he says those words that makes Shouta’s usually iron stomach roll unpleasantly.
“What did I do?”
Hizashi takes his time to answer, preening and turning towards Shouta. He’s full of manic delight, and Shouta knows what whatever he’s about to say next, it’s going to be bad.
“You kissed Yagi-san.”
Shouta hopes this is some sort of twisted dream he’ll wake up from any second now. It’s too surreal.
“I what?”
“Well, you thought you kissed him. You actually kissed the Buddha statue you’d mistaken for him half an hour earlier, and became really concerned that his lips were cold.”
“I categorically did not.”
“I have video evidence!”
And with that Hizashi fishes into his pocket, about to draw out his phone.
“No!” Shouta half shouts, immediately regretting the way it jars his tender head.
“Are you sure?” Hizashi grins, looking positively predatory. “It’s very funny.”
“Don’t you dare,” Shouta warns. “And don’t you dare share it with anyone else.”
Hizashi gives a tense noise that’s a rough approximation of a laugh.
“Who?” Shouta needs to know, preparing a mental hitlist.
“Well…” Hizashi starts, looking awkward. “Nemuri saw it happen, but was too tangled in wires from the karaoke booth to film it herself so she asked me…”
Shouta’s mood plummets. Nemuri will have broadcast it to the whole of Japan by sunset tonight.
“And Yagi-san asked me to send it to him too.”
“Yagi-san?” Shouta can’t help echoing, wondering why the laws of reality have suddenly diverged. “Why would he…?”
“I think he thought it was cute.” Hizashi smiles down at his own food. “No, I know he thought it was cute, even if he was frustrated.”
“Frustrated?”
Hizashi gives a painfully bright burst of laughter. “He wanted you to be kissing him, not the statue!”
“He wanted me to kiss him?”
Shouta is starting to feel like a parrot. He’s not sure how else to react to Hizash’s words, though. They don’t make any sense.
“Shouta, come on,” Hizashi huffs. “He’s into you.”
He falls silent, trying to process what Hizashi is telling him. “Are you sure you weren’t completely smashed?”
“I’m telling the truth!” Hizashi cries, and Shouta winces. “Sorry, sorry!”
In the brief respite, Shouta takes a mouthful of soup, relaxing a little as it warms him. It’s not enough to make up for the fact that Hizashi not only filmed him but also shared the video, but it goes some way to making him feel better. Perhaps he’ll give Hizashi a swift death. If what he says about Yagi somehow turns out to be true – not that Shouta is trying to work out ways of testing it – maybe he’ll keep him round a little while longer.
While they eat, Hizashi fiddles on his phone. Shouta doesn’t ask, because he probably doesn’t want to know.
“Hey, want to meet up with Yagi?”
Maybe he should have asked.
“What have you planned?”
“Nothing! I asked if he was okay after last night, he said yes, he asked after you, I said you’re just a bit hungover, and then asked if he wanted to meet for tea or coffee so he’s asking if you’re going to be there too!”
Shouta’s first instinct is to say ‘no’. The idea of leaving his home on his day off for anything less than an emergency is unpleasant.
And then he thinks about what Hizashi said a few minutes ago.
“Did I really try to kiss a statue thinking it was Yagi-san?”
“No. You kissed a statue thinking it was Yagi-san.”
“Semantics. Did he really want me to be kissing him?”
“Yeah, he really did. I bet whatever you like on it. He’s into you.”
Shouta weighs up his options for a further few seconds.
“Okay. But we’re meeting in the park, not at one of those horrible, noisy Western coffee places you love.”
Hizashi grins, tapping away at his phone. “Anything you say, Shou-chan.”
“And the stakes of the bet involve your hair.”
Hizashi pales. “You wouldn’t…”
“Still so sure he likes me?”
His friend regains his grin, and then gives the worryingly hope-inspiring answer: “Yeah.”
-
The time for the meeting is set, the weather kindly overcast and Shouta’s headache abating, and then, at the last minute, Hizashi bows out. He uses some thinly veiled excuse of having received an urgent message from his agency to get out of it, and Shouta knows he should have seen this coming. At least Hizashi told Yagi and didn’t leave that for Shouta to do.
Perhaps lending credence to Hizashi’s insistence that Yagi likes him, the meeting goes ahead. Shouta finds Yagi waiting for him, a steaming take-away cup of tea in each hand. He offers one to Shouta, smiling awkwardly.
“I’m glad you could make it,” he says as Shouta settles on the bench next to him. “Are you well after last night?”
“I’m made of stronger stuff than most,” Shouta answers gruffly, cradling the drink in his hands.
Yagi gives a soft chuckle. “So I’ve seen.”
“And you?” Shouta finds himself asking. “Nemuri didn’t force anything on you did she?”
“I managed to resist, although I must say I found the whole experience rather exhausting.”
Shouta gives a sympathetic hum, and then wonders what to say as they lapse into silence. He’s always been forthright, though, and decides after a few minutes of watching the leaves dance on the breeze that he might as well face this head-on.
“I owe you an apology.”
Yagi gives him a questioning look. “Whatever for?”
“I understand I mistook a statue for you.”
“Ah, yes, you did. It was rather, um, amusing.”
“I was also informed that, while believing this statue to be you, I kissed it.”
The way Yagi splutters, choking back a cough, is a little alarming, and Shouta stops, hoping Yagi is okay. After a moment he seems more compose, although his normally unhealthy cheeks are darkened by a blush. “That… uh… Yes. That happened.”
“I don’t want to leave you under the impression that I’m in the habit of doing such things.”
“No, I didn’t think you were! Alcohol brings out the strangest things in people, all is forgiven!”
Shouta measures Yagi’s reaction for a moment, before deciding his apology really has been accepted. He relaxes with a steady exhale, sliding down a little where he sits. “Yes, mistaking people for statues is pretty strange. Unless you’re myopic, I guess.”
“That, um…”
Yagi stops short, and Shouta peers up at him.
“What?”
“That wasn’t the strange part.”
Shouta’s stomach drops away again. If he did anything more embarrassing or out of the ordinary, he would have though Hizashi would have told him.
“Then what was?”
Yagi blushes, tugging at his bang and looking away. “That you wanted to kiss something you thought was me.”
Shouta doesn’t like the way those words sound, the self-depreciation behind them. “Why is someone wanting to kiss you strange?” he challenges.
“Well, I’m not exactly what I used to be.”
“So? I’d still kiss you,” he says firmly. “I clearly thought that’s what I was doing last night.”
“You… you would?”
They’re teetering on the verge of new territory, and Shouta is aware of how his answer might change everything. Yagi’s response will certainly resolve the bet Hizashi made.
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“No!” Yagi cries out, almost dropping his tea. He’s sitting forwards now, limbs in an awkward, tangled knot. “No, I mean, I don’t… I don’t not want… But you…”
He’s panicking, and starts coughing into his hand. Shouta can do nothing but watch as Yagi threatens to disappear into a full-blown crisis right there in front of him. Given the visceral reaction to his offer, he’s not sure if reaching out is a good idea.
“Yagi-san,” he says firmly, drawing the other man’s attention. He quickly has it, startled blue eyes fixed on him. “It’s fine.” Shouta hopes his words are reassuring. “And you’re allowed to say ‘yes’. You’re very likable.”
“I… I am?”
“Yes.”
Yagi’s breathing seems to even out, the panic and tension fading. “Oh.”
Shouta tries to smile, and the expression seems to work if the way Yagi’s expression shifts to one of dazed interest is anything to go by.
“You’re very likable too,” Yagi says at last, his cheeks still stained with colour.
“Most would beg to differ.”
“Most are wrong,” Yagi says heroically, before shifting his weight. “Does the, um, offer still stand?”
“Which?”
“The kiss.”
Shouta can’t help grinning, and it becomes clear that Hizashi won’t have to suffer the indignation of a haircut when Yagi leans forward rather than away from what Shouta is usually told is a horrifying expression.
“It does.”
“Can we…?”
Yagi asking him, out there in the open, for a kiss is the best thing that’s happened to Shouta in years. “You know,” he says, “I’m pretty sure this is going to be infinitely better than our first kiss.”
Yagi falters, stiffening and no longer inching towards Shouta. “Our first? You can’t remember it, Aizawa-kun, and you didn’t even kiss me.”
“So, like I said. Better,” Shouta grins, his hand coming up to caress Yagi’s cheek and guide him closer. “And call me Shouta.”
“Shou—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish before Shouta leans up to meet him, stealing the rest of his name and the lingering sweetness of tea from Yagi’s lips. They’re a little colder than his own, soft and damp from the tea, and, for a terrible moment, unresponsive as Yagi gives a noise of alarm.
And then he relaxes and Shouta finds a trembling arm wrapping around him, pulling him close as he’s indulged in something he’s wanted for so long but never quite knew how to ask for.
It turns out that getting blackout drunk and mistaking your crush for a statue is the way to what you want. Who knew.
Wordcount: 1,700
Rating: T
Tags: Shouta has a crush, pining, rain, cute
Shouta tries to keep his feelings in check when a sudden downpour results in Yagi, himself, and some important paperwork taking shelter beneath a doorway.
Read on AO3
Now only one more day to go! Help! :’D
Also, @vanyelle I hope you see this.
The fact that it was rainy season should have been warning enough, but they still find themselves caught out by a sudden downpour, forced to take shelter in a the deepest doorway they can find. It’s not much, but it offers some protection from the rain now falling in a sheet on the deserted street, and Shouta feels the already humid, close air between them ripple with warmth as Yagi chuckles.
“I knew I should have taken an umbrella.”
“Yes, well…” Shouta says, less interested in dealing with ‘should have’ than their current predicament of being trapped with no way out. The paperwork gathered in his arms won’t survive what skin and clothing can, and, short of undressing to wrap the vulnerable cargo in fabric before making a run for it, there’s nothing can be done but wait for a gap in the rain.
Well, Shouta could ask Yagi to go and fetch something, but that would be asking an unhealthy, injured man to soak himself to the bone for the sake of some police reports. They could switch, and Shouta could go, and that would also solve Shouta’s not entirely insignificant problem of trying to work out how to cope with being in such close proximity to the man he is currently enamoured with, but he rather likes that problem.
And that, in itself, is a problem. He should have more of an issue with the way his heart flutters at the sight of Yagi, his stomach doing somersaults and his entire body insisting it’s several degrees warmer than he knows it actually is. This close to the other man it’s hard to keep his breathing even, to keep his pulse in check, and he swears his affliction is written across his face. Yagi is so close, so immediate, that Shouta can smell the soft scent of strawberry shampoo mixed with petrichor and warmth.
“I wonder if it will let up anytime soon,” Yagi says, peering out and, thankfully, looking away from Shouta as he has a small crisis over being this close to his crush. This situation is a schoolboy’s dream, and it’s a part of growing up Shouta missed out on entirely. From the way his heart migrates to his throat every time Yagi’s around, it feels like he’s making up for lost time.
“These paper’s can’t get wet,” Shouta decides. It’s only partly true – Shouta could always go back and get fresh copies made – but he decides it’s the most logical conclusion. After all, what’s his and Yagi’s time spent sheltering from the rain compared to wasting at least three officers’ time when they have far more important work to be doing?
Not that he and Yagi have a meeting in a little over an hour with the staff to discuss the contents of the files.
But that’s something to worry about in another five or ten minutes. The sky can’t continue to produce this volume of precipitation indefinitely. It’ll wane.
“Are they still dry?” Yagi asks, and Shouta nods, oddly unwilling to peel the stack of reports away from his chest.
“They are.”
“If only we had an umbrella…” Yagi laments.
“The rain can’t last forever,” Shouta points out, wondering if Yagi really is desperate to get away.
The way the tall man relaxes, exhaling as he leans against the door, gives him his answer. “No, you’re right, Aizawa-kun. Maybe there will be a break soon and we can dash for the station!”
Shouta gives a distracted hum, his attention on the collar of Yagi’s top. It’s far too big for him, leaving enough space for Shouta’s gaze and probably Shouta himself. He’d be willing to try.
“If the worst comes to the worst, I can try one last Smash to clear the skies!”
Shouta can tell he’s joking, but can’t help the ingrained need to reprimand such recklessness. “It’s irresponsible of you to meddle with meteorological events, Yagi-san.”
Yagi gives a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, yes, of course it is!”
“Besides,” Shouta continues, tearing his gaze away from Yagi’s face, and the way the corners of his eyes crease when he laughs, “your arm is still healing.”
Said arm shifts in the sling it’s resting in. “I have two arms, sensei.”
“And what would you do if you ended up with both in casts?” He’s half teasing now, a terrifying, new turn of events. He’s not even sure he’s doing it correctly. How does one turn off their classroom voice and affect a lighter tone? “As someone who recently endured such an ordeal, I strongly advise against it.”
The air around them is once again alive with the sound of Yagi’s laughter, and Shouta clamps his mouth shut as his heart makes a bid to escape the confines of his chest. Well, he seems to have had some measure of success in lightheartedness, then.
“Always looking out for others,” Yagi grins. “The world needs more Heroes like you.”
And now he’s in danger of exhibiting signs that his internal thermometer is broken.
“Such experiences do teach you the value of having the use of both limbs,” he says, the words sounding clumsy to his ears, his voice a little strained. He needs to relax; act as if he’s not affected by the striking man standing barely a hair’s breadth from him.
“I wholeheartedly agree with you there!”
Relaxing isn’t going to be possible. Yagi shifts, and in the limited space it does nothing but remind Shouta of just how close they are to each other. They bump against each other, and Shouta swallows back a noise of surprise.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Yagi rushes. “Dear me, there isn’t much room, is there? Good job I don’t take up as much space as I used to!”
Shouta can’t help frowning as Yagi laughs off the tasteless comment. “You’re fine,” he insists.
“You didn’t much like me before, did you?”
Those words sting, and leave a bitter taste in Shouta’s mouth as he tries to defend the assumptions that led him to dismiss All Might as a self-absorbed, media-loving idiot. He was mostly right about the idiot part, and right about self-absorbed part too, even if not in the self-loving way he thought and more the self-flagellating, but when it comes to the media… No. Who is he kidding? All Might is wary of the media but enjoys it as a way to reach his fans. He’s still the same man, just seen in a different light.
“It’s not so much that I didn’t like you,” Shouta contests, trying to sound likable, “more that I didn’t know you.”
“But you know me know.”
There’s something in the way he speaks, the simple statement, that catches Shouta’s attention and causes his heart to trip. He opens his mouth, intending to respond, but shuts it again before he says anything, his attention turning towards the street. Someone is approaching, hurried footsteps splashing against the pavement.
It’s impossible to see the person’s face until they’re almost upon them, the umbrella shifting out of the way as the prepare to enter the door. The look of surprise on the woman’s face is almost comic.
“Oh!”
“Oh!” Yagi says at almost the exact same moment. “I’m sorry! We’re in your way! Aizawa-kun, can you move up a little, make room for—”
“—All Might!?”
Yagi stops dead, coughing but choking back a more colourful conclusion to the involuntary convulsion. Shouta is alarmed to discover that even the thought of having blood coughed all over him isn’t enough to diminish the affection he feels. Rather, it emboldens a hitherto ignored part of him that wants to reach out and check that Yagi’s vital signs are still within normal parameters. Shock and stress are bad for his system. He really ought to quit teaching.
“And Eraserhead! I saw your broadcast!”
Being recognised will never be pleasant. The press conference was necessary, though, and the woman hasn’t started spitting venom at them, so Shouta guesses they’re safe.
“And your fight, All Might-sama! I was cheering for you! The whole world was cheering for you! I’m glad to see you’re okay!”
“Ah, thank you for your support,” Yagi says, a little more awkward than Shouta expects him to be. “I’m sorry we’re in your way, the rain, you see.”
“Oh yes, it came on suddenly didn’t it? Gosh, I can’t believe… All Might…!”
Yagi makes a valiant attempt to create space for the woman to enter the door, pressing against Shouta in all sorts of terrible, wonderful ways that are dangerous for his cardiovascular system. He feels the rumble of Yagi’s voice as he speaks: “We’ll be gone as soon as it let’s up.”
“What? Oh, no! Were you going somewhere? Please, here, take this, I have another inside!”
And with that she shoves the umbrella handle towards them, offering it.
“I don’t need it,” she continues rambling, no doubt starstruck. “It’s just an umbrella, after all, nothing compared to meeting All Might!”
Yagi eyes the offering carefully, and then takes it. “Thank you…?”
“Asegawa Shimeko!”
“Asegawa-san.”
He gives a polite bow, and Shouta follows suit, despite the fact the woman probably doesn’t even realise he’s still there. “Thank you, Asegawa-san.”
“You’re welcome!”
“May I return it to you later?” Yagi asks as the three of them shuffle and shift, the umbrella changing hands and Shouta finding himself having to remain close to Yagi to make sure the papers remain dry. “Perhaps I can give you an autograph too?”
This man is ridiculous. Shouta almost snorts, and has to feign a sneeze when the woman accepts the offer with blushing glee. He has to endure another thirty second of their conversation before goodbyes are finally said and the two of them can be on their way.
“Anything for a fan,” Shouta can’t help teasing. The rain is still pouring down, beating a vivacious rhythm on the canvas above their heads while his heart tries to answer with a crescendoing pace of its own. The smell of strawberries is still there, the warmth of Yagi’s body close and his elbow brushing against Shouta’s with every other step they take.
“Well, I go even further for friends.”
The way he says it, the gentleness of his voice and the smile he gives as he turns towards Shouta, makes it blindingly obvious that Yagi counts him as a friend.
Shouta has to look away, cheeks burning as he fixes his gaze on the ground ahead and realises that his crush might have just graduated to love.
Wordcount: 1,000
Rating: T
Tags: angst, established relationship, emotional baggage, emotional hurt/comfort
Toshinori knows he's not good enough for Shouta.
Read it on AO3
Prompt requested by @beescream
A hand waving in front of his face alerts him to the fact that, for the umpteenth time in the last few minutes, his focus has drifted.
“Hellooo~? Earth to Yagi-san?”
“Ah, my apologies, Kayama-chan, my thoughts were elsewhere.”
Nemuri huffs, a hand going to her hip and posture shifting as she stares up at him. “Yes, I can see that. Why don’t you just go over and get him?”
Toshinori splutters. “I couldn’t possibly!”
“Why not?”
Unable to help himself, Toshinori looks back over to where Shouta is engaged in conversation with a stranger. He left to get himself more drinks some five minutes ago, and while waiting at the bar he’d been approached by a tall, rather handsome young man. Toshinori had noticed the way the man was smiling at Shouta, and as the seconds slipped by and the confident man edged closer, Toshinori’s heart fell. Seeing Shouta like that, with someone else so close, makes him realise just how far short he falls of what Shouta deserves. It’s painful to watch, reminding him that this brief, happy interlude in his life will soon be over. Maybe it will be over tonight, when Shouta finally realises he should be with someone better.
“Hm?” Nemuri prompts, disrupting his thoughts.
“He’s busy,” Toshinori says.
Nemuri huffs, shaking her head. “Well, excuse me, then. If you won’t go rescue him, I will.”
And with that she leaves, squeezing past him and leaving Toshinori to shrink further into the corner. He wraps his hands around the cool glass of water he’s been nursing, trying not to notice the way Nemuri saunters up to Shouta and drapes an arm around his shoulder with practised ease.
He looks down and, not for the first time, wonders what he’s doing here. He doesn’t feel like he belongs in the vibrant bar, and he certainly doesn’t belong in Shouta’s life. Nemuri dragged Shouta out, who in turn dragged Toshinori along. He feels the precarious thread tying him to this wonderful man fraying, becoming thinner day by day, and it breaks his heart. He wishes he were a better man: younger, stronger, smart, attractive.
“What’s wrong?”
He jerks his attention back up to find Shouta peering at him, concern creasing his brow.
“It’s nothing!” he lies, grinning and hoping Shouta will believe him.
He doesn’t. Shouta is too smart for that, seeing right through him. He shifts closer, causing Toshinori to betray his unease by tensing, and Toshinori’s heart falls as he sees the look of dread on Shouta’s face.
“Toshi?”
He’s pulled back, and stares at Toshinori, waiting for an answer Toshinori can’t give. How is he supposed to tell Shouta that he deserves better, and that Toshinori knows he needs to let him go because it’s unfair to burden Shouta with his continued presence in his life? When it’s just them, or they’re at work, it’s easy to kid himself that he can belong at Shouta’s side, but somewhere like this, surrounded by people, Toshinori feels small and insignificant. He knows Shouta deserves better.
“I, um, I was just thinking,” Toshinori tries to excuse.
“‘Thinking’ my ass!” Nemuri interjects. “Stop moping! If, by the time I come back from the bathroom, you haven’t cheered up, I’m buying you some hard liquor and I don’t care what your doctors say!”
And with that, she leaves her drink in their care and disappears.
“What is it?” Shouta prompts.
Ashamed of himself, Toshinori looks away. “I think you deserve better.”
He’s met with silence, the hubbub of conversation dissonant and distorting as it clashes with the heaviness between them.
“Why?” Shouta whispers at last.
“You really have to ask?”
“Yes, Toshinori, I do.”
The sharp bite of Shouta’s tone cuts to the core, and Toshinori’s hand aches where it’s clamped around his glass.
“You deserve someone strong and smart, someone handsome. You deserve someone who can be by your side and have your back, and who can make you laugh and lend you strength when you need it most. You deserve better than me.”
“What the—?”
“Seeing that guy flirting with you,” Toshinori continues, withering as he can’t stop himself, “made me realise you deserve someone like that. It’s selfish of me to hold you back from the happiness you deserve.”
“You don’t think you’re all those things? That I want to be with you because I’m happy with you?”
Toshinori carefully weighs his words before saying them. “I think you would be happier with someone else.”
If the silence between them was bad before, it’s unbearable now.
“Look at me,” Shouta instructs, and Toshinori doesn’t have the strength left to resist the command. He almost flinches, expecting to see anger in Shouta’s eyes.
Instead, he’s met with sadness, Shouta’s eyes glistening and his mouth set in a grim, unhappy line.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Then give me what I want.”
Caught, and with nowhere to go, Toshinori struggles for a moment. He wants to protest, but when Shouta puts it like that there’s nothing he can do, nowhere he can hide.
“I love you too, Toshinori,” Shouta says, discarding his own drink and then reaching for Toshinori’s. It slips from his hands with no resistance.
“I don’t…”
“So when,” Shouta continues, his tone firm as he sets the glass aside and places Toshinori’s arms around him, manufacturing an embrace, “you see someone flirting with me, you do something normal like get jealous.”
The idea that he’s allowed to be jealous, as if he really does have some claim over Shouta, is too abstract to linger in Toshinori’s thoughts as he tries to calm his racing heart. Shouta is gazing up at him, pressing into his personal space in a way Shouta almost never allows in public.
“And you come over,” Shouta says, reaching up and toying with one of Toshinori’s bangs. “You remember that I chose you, and that I want you, and you put your arms around me and you kiss me sweetly so that the whole world damn world knows we belong together, okay?”
“O-okay…” Toshinori stutters.
“Okay,” Shouta echoes, a smile tugging at his lips and he pulls a little on Toshinori’s hair. “Now maybe we should practice.”
Toshinori’s resistance crumbles, his resolve to set Shouta free dissipating when Shouta’s lips meet his own.
The only indication that Nemuri has returned is a delighted chuckle, and then one of the drinks by their elbows being slid off of the table as they’re left alone again.
