♕:Holding hands ((Might as well send in da meems Bl for the Aizawa muse))
It was definitely going to be another long evening, Toshinori couldn’t help thinking as he looked at the pile of papers to be graded, which currently sat balanced precariously atop the coffee table in the teacher’s lounge. Long golden hair hung over his face as he bent forward, picking up yet another essay on the tactics of battling a villain with an unusual Quirk.
Aizawa was next to him, in the midst of what the blond man presumed to be a nap, although he wasn’t quite sure - he remained quiet, keeping the rustling of papers to a minimum in case the scruffier teacher really was asleep.
He wasn’t expecting the other male to grab his hand, twisting his fingers together with Toshinori’s slender, bony ones gently as the sickly man jumped in surprise, sending a few sheets of paper to the floor in a flurry of white leaves.
Soft blue eyes cast their gaze downward at Aizawa, questioning yet not willing to pull away. His hands felt cold and clammy, and he was sure they must be at least a bit off-putting - but the other male didn’t appear perturbed (not yet, at least) so he rather awkwardly relaxed his hand into Aizawa’s grip, faint smile quirking the corners of his lips upward. His fingers twitched as a shiver shot up his spine; suddenly the fingers of his other hand became very interesting, and he fixed his gaze on them swiftly.
@more-than-one












