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Shota is exhausted. It’s been a long patrol and an even longer day before that and he’s just–exhausted. His head is pounding, his eyes are too dry from using his quirk relentlessly and to top it all off he’s damp from head to toe thanks to the downpour he was caught in half an hour ago.
Shota lets out a weary sigh as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, because if he can’t see his hands shaking then no one else can either and for all that his capture weapon usually provides some sort of comfort, right now he only feels weighed down by it.
His vision is tilting every now and then and Shota can no longer tell if it’s because he overused his quirk or because of his exhaustion and at this point it doesn’t really matter anymore.
He shuffles along the street, everything quiet and dark for now because it is still the middle of the night, and he doesn’t think too hard about where he’s going. He wants to be warm and comfortable and safe without having to look over his shoulder every other second and he trusts his feet to get him to where he needs to be.
Shota is proven right when he ends up in front of a door–a very familiar door–and even though it’s most certainly not Shota’s own home he knows that this is exactly where he wants to be.
He suspects that the exhaustion finally wins out over him because he’s starting to lose a bit of time; between one blink and the next, he’s already inside with no memory of getting the door unlocked, his socked feet leaving faint prints on the ground and then with another blink he’s right in front of the couch.
Shota’s shoulders drop as he reaches up to take off his capture weapon and he doesn’t care to make sure it doesn’t get tangled, he simply drops it to the ground where it falls with a wet splash.
It’s almost enough to make Shota smile but he can’t quite muster the strength to do so. The couch is screaming at him to simply fall down and finally get the rest his body is craving, but before he can give in to that temptation Shota reaches out for the blanket folded at the end of the couch, throwing it over the cushions before he follows it.
He’s still more wet than dry at this point and his exhaustion is no reason to ruin a perfectly good couch.
Content with how attentive he managed to be, his eyes close and then that’s the last he knows for a while.
Shota wakes up to an incessant finger poking at his head.
“Mrhghl,” he manages to get out which prompts the owner of the finger to snort out a soft laugh.
“Are you in need of medical attention?” Hizashi asks him and Shota manages to reproduce the same sound. “Yeah, no, I’m going to need actual words for this, sorry, Shota. Are you in need of medical attention?”
Shota manages to crack an eye open and he’s really not surprised when he comes face to face with a worried looking Hizashi.
“No,” he croaks out, his mind still pleasantly fuzzy from sleep and he’s unwilling to speak in longer sentences. Sleep is still so close and if he bothers with grammar and sentence structure it will surely abandon him.
“Are you hurt?” Hizashi asks next, that worried frown still on his face and Shota lets his eyes slip shut again.
“No.”
“Alright,” Hizashi breathes out and then something warm and heavy is being thrown over him. “Sleep some more then.”
By the time the sentence leaves Hizashi’s mouth Shota is already more asleep than awake but he still leans into the hand carding through his hair.
It’s the last thing he feels before sleep claims him again.
The first thing Shota notices when he wakes up again is the smell of freshly brewed coffee. It’s enough to get him to open his eyes and his mouth curls into an amused smile when he spots the mug of coffee on the ground, right under his face.
It’s a good way to wake him up, Shota has to admit that.
The next thing he notices is the soft humming coming from the kitchen, accompanied by the sizzling of something being cooked and by then all his senses are up and running. Shota does feel rested, surprisingly enough and the thought makes immediate worry spike through him.
“What time is it?” he calls out, scrambling to untangle himself from the blanket that somehow made it over him without disturbing the coffee still on the ground and yet he still stumbles when he stands up.
“Not too late for breakfast,” comes Hizashi’s answer from the kitchen, followed by a contemplating silence. “Why is there no word for a meal between lunch and dinner? Because that’s what it’s actually closer to.”
“Fuck, I had a meeting,” Shota grumbles under his breath, patting his pants to find his phone and coming up empty. It takes him a moment too long to understand that the phone on the table, plugged in and everything, is actually his. He worries for a split second when the implication that someone rummaged around in his pockets and he didn’t even wake up hits him but then again it’s Hizashi. He has known the guy for years at this point, so he really shouldn’t be surprised that even his subconsciousness deems him safe.
“I cancelled that for you,” Hizashi tells him as he steps around the corner. “Nezu was very understanding and told you to get some rest.”
“How did you–?”
“Unlock it? Shota, no offence, but your password is ‘cat’ and it has been since forever because you keep refusing to change it. It really wasn’t that hard. Now, lunch or dinner–linner? dunch?—will take a bit longer, so why don’t you hop under the shower? I got you some clothes, just leave yours outside, I’ll pop them in the dryer.”
It’s only now that Hizashi’s mentioned it that Shota realises how uncomfortably damp he still is even after sleeping most of the day away, which means he must have actually been soaked when he stepped into Hizashi’s apartment.
“Sorry,” he mutters, only now noticing that his capture weapon is missing.
“No worries,” Hizashi calls back, having long returned to his cooking. “Take a shower, and then come eat something.”
Shota’s mouth opens on its own accord but the protest dies on his tongue when Hizashi starts to softly sing again and instead of standing around like an absolute idiot, Shota gets going.
When he steps out from the bathroom his clothes are indeed in the dryer, just as promised and Hizashi is waiting for him at the table.
They don’t talk about why Shota is there; Hizashi doesn’t ask and Shota doesn’t offer since he isn’t even too sure himself. Their meal isn’t taken in silence, though, because this is still Hizashi who Shota is eating with but it’s still one of the most relaxing days Shota has had in a while.
~ * ~ * ~
Shota has to admit that going over to Hizashi’s apartment these days comes easier to him than going back to his own. He doesn’t go there every day, sometimes he doesn’t even make it back there for weeks on end, but whenever a patrol drags on for especially long or a day has just decided to kick Shota’s ass for absolute no reason, he finds himself in front of Hizashi’s door.
Sometimes he’s home and sometimes Shota has to pick the lock, but not once has Hizashi asked or sent him away.
Shota appreciates it, really.
Today wasn’t even a really bad day, it had just dragged on forever in Shota’s mind. There had been a small incident in his class that ended in an injury, which meant Shota had to call some parents. And then he had to expel one of his students which also led to more calls and to significantly more enraged parents.
Shota doesn’t like talking to parents on a good day and especially not to parents who think their kid is the greatest just because there’s a cool quirk involved. So there had been yelling and accusations and Shota just took it like he always does, but then Nezu always wants to talk afterwards too to check in on him and so Shota had only left the school long after six.
His stomach is grumbling, his head is hurting and he just wants to curl up on a couch with maybe a cup of coffee in his hands.
Seeing as he doesn’t even have a couch at his own place, it only seems natural to make his way over to Hizashi’s apartment yet again.
Shota got pretty good at picking the lock there, so he’s in barely thirty seconds after he arrived and to his surprise he’s met with the TV running in the living-room.
Hizashi doesn’t call out to him, so he must have taken his hearing aids out already and Shota lets out a long breath. He doesn’t know if he could ever put it into words but while this apartment feels homely and safe, that effect only ever doubles when Hizashi is there as well.
Shota tries not to dwell on that thought for too long, instead bending down and taking off his shoes, before something on the wardrobe stand catches his eyes.
The first thing he sees is a paper with his name on it, and it’s only afterwards that he notices the key that’s weighing the paper down. A key that has a little metal cat charm attached to it.
The meaning of this is pretty obvious, all things considered, and yet Shota still hesitates for a second, his hand already stretched out but hovering unsurely in the air as if it could disappear the moment he makes contact with it.
It’s a completely irrational thought though so Shota does finally reach out and touches his fingertips to the cool metal. When the key doesn’t disappear he swipes it off the little stand and pockets it before he makes his way into the living room.
Hizashi looks over at him as soon as he steps into the room, clearly completely unsurprised to see him, and gives him a little wave before he points at his ears.
Just like Shota thought then, his hearing aids are already out.
Shota waves in return before he makes his way over to the couch, smiling slightly when Hizashi pats the space next to him and it’s only then that Shota notices the coffee waiting for him on the table.
Hizashi doesn’t even drink coffee and Shota lets out a fond sigh.
He pats Hizashi’s shoulder to get his attention back, swiftly moving his hands in a ‘thank you’ gesture that Hizashi waves off before he takes the mug and snuggles down on the couch.
He’ll really have to brush up on his JSL, Shota thinks as he takes a sip of the coffee, especially now that Hizashi has practically allowed him to come over whenever he wants.
Neither of them mention the key.
~ * ~ * ~
Shota stopped coming up with excuses as to why he’s always going to Hizashi’s apartment instead of his own and the key in his pocket tells him he doesn’t need to have an excuse anyway.
Hizashi gave him that key; he must want him to come over, it’s as simple as that.
So Shota doesn’t wait for bad days, or long days anymore; he just goes over whenever he feels like it and if he feels like it six days out of seven then that is neither here nor there.
It’s late in the evening already, Shota’s patrol has just ended, and while everything was quiet and uneventful he’s still ready to faceplant into the couch and get the sleep he deserves, so he can’t say he’s too happy to open the door and find Hizashi still awake.
Awake and with his hearing aids in.
This can only spell trouble, Shota thinks, even as he takes off his shoes, the key already safely pocketed in case Hizashi is going to demand it back.
Shota would give it back, if Hizashi really asks for it, but he’s not about to offer it up on his own.
“This really has to stop,” Hizashi says as soon as Shota steps into the living-room and he’s positioned right in front of the couch, giving Shota no way to simply beeline for it and close his eyes.
“What has?” Shota asks, wearily eying the couch before he drags his eyes back to Hizashi.
“You sleeping on this couch. It has to stop. The couch is not made for that, you are not made for that and I have a perfectly big bed right over there.” He points towards his bedroom, his eyes narrowed at Shota.
Shota can’t deny the fact that all these nights on the couch have left him with a little bit of an ache, even though Hizashi’s couch is surprisingly comfortable, but he would have never brought this up. It’s his fault anyway; he could sleep at home and there’s really no reason for Hizashi to not throw him out should he complain about something that shouldn’t even be happening in the first place.
“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Hizashi goes on and Shota’s attention snaps back to him. “We’re going to have late dinner. Afterwards you’re going to join me on this couch for a cup of tea, finally putting it to the intended use before you get ready to sleep and then you’re going to join me, in bed, to get a good night’s sleep. Ya dig?”
His signature question is a little bit more aggressive than Shota is used to and he knows that he doesn’t really have a choice. Not that he’s particularly keen on arguing with Hizashi over this.
“I dig,” Shota simply gives back clearly shocking Hizashi going by the look on his face and then he marches off into the bedroom where a designated drawer of clothes is already waiting for him. Because Shota has clothes in Hizashi’s apartment. Clothes, a spare costume and capture weapon, and a toothbrush and he knows Hizashi even keeps jelly pouches stacked for him even though he sneers at Shota every time he takes one out. Hell, Shota has a key.
It really shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.
They don’t talk about it when Shota comes back out, they just go about their evening exactly like Hizashi has said and before Shota knows it, it’s time to sleep.
He instinctively tries to grab for the blanket on the couch before he notices Hizashi’s murderous glare and guiltily lets his hand fall back to his side before he shuffles off to the bedroom.
It’s clear which side he’s supposed to sleep on, because Hizashi has things on his bedside table while Shota’s is empty and so it’s a matter of seconds before both of them are settled.
Hizashi already has his hearing aids out when his hand hovers over the light switch and Shota frowns at him.
What? he signs and is confused when Hizashi lets out an amused chuckle.
Didn’t know you remembered any, he signs back, clearly referring to Shota’s use of JSL and Shota remembers that he didn’t yet tell Hizashi that he’s been brushing up on it.
Been practising. Only seems fair.
It earns him one of Hizashi’s smiles; not the Present Mic one that everyone gets but a more personal one, one that is softer than anything he shows to the public. The one Shota likes best.
Good night, is the only thing Hizashi signs back at him and Shota gets it so there’s really only one thing to do.
Good night.
They don’t talk about their new sleeping arrangements. Not even when they wake up with their legs tangled together.
~ * ~ * ~
Shota knows that Hizashi will be out a little while longer. He said as much—more accurately, he complained about it, loudly—in the teacher’s longue today during their break. Shota isn’t sure if Hizashi even knows he was awake for that entire rant about poor time management and how he can only split his day into that many hours anyway and Shota had wisely stayed silent on how it’s entirely Hizashi’s own fault.
That’s what he gets for working three jobs.
Shota thinks Hizashi wouldn’t have appreciated his input on that, though, so he had stayed curled up in his sleeping bag with his eyes firmly closed. His mind has been already made up at that point, though.
Clearly Hizashi won’t have time to cook for himself today, not with back to back meetings like that, so Shota took it upon himself.
He’s not good at cooking, not really, but he manages simple dishes without burning the kitchen down and Nemuri had told him once that he at least makes edible food. That has to count for something, right?
So here Shota is, in Hizashi’s kitchen, making the simplest dish he knows and he just hopes it doesn’t all go up in flames.
He checks the time again, cautious to let anything burn but he perks up when he hears the front door.
“Welcome back!” Shota calls out, his words being met with a softer “I’m home,” before everything goes silent again.
And that isn’t right so he moves everything off the stove for a moment before he sticks his head around the corner. He really doesn’t expect to see Hizashi completely frozen at the door, but that’s the sight he’s being met with.
“What?” he asks when it doesn’t seem as if Hizashi is going to move any time soon and that at least gets him to blink.
“It’s just—it’s nice having someone at home. Coming home to someone,” Hizashi finally whispers and now that gives Shota pause.
He has been over a whole lot lately, making good use of that key and the nice mattress Hizashi has, but he either always arrives after Hizashi or he’s asleep by the time Hizashi makes it back. This is the first time Shota has been there before Hizashi and both of them are awake, he realises.
“Of course it’s nice,” Shota replies, because he came to appreciate that more than anything.
Hizashi always greets him so warmly and it’s just one more thing Shota looks forward to whenever he comes over.
“How the hell would you know? A homely atmosphere is clearly not your priority, you have three things in your entire flat!"
“—three things in your entire flat,” Shota flatly says at the same time as Hizashi, his tone deliberately mocking and he bursts out laughing at the look of absolute outrage on Hizashi’s face.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Shota?” Hizashi finally manages to ask and Shota refuses to acknowledge the warmth spreading out in his chest.
“People change,” Shota says with a shrug, moving back into the kitchen and putting the pots and pans where they are supposed to be so dinner will be ready before Hizashi has to leave again.
“Not like that,” Hizashi argues as he comes into the kitchen as well, his eyes going wide when he sees what Shota is up to. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Shota gives back as he sets the table. “And maybe—it’s just nice, having someone to come back to,” he admits, more quietly and Shota looks up at just the right time to see Hizashi’s face going soft.
“It really is,” Hizashi agrees. “Thank you for cooking.”
“Sit, you don’t have much time,” Shota tells him because it’s true and Hizashi does as he’s being told.
It’s also nice to share a meal with someone, Shota realises.
~ * ~ * ~
Shota knows that something is up the moment he steps into the apartment. Nothing is off in a way that sets him on edge, but there’s a little bit of nervous energy leaking out from somewhere and it only takes Shota a second to realise that it’s because Hizashi is humming under his breath. With his quirk activated.
He hasn’t done that in years—the last time was probably back in their school days—and immediately Shota narrows his eyes.
Either he’s extremely nervous or extremely excited and both moods don’t bode well for Shota.
“I’m back,” he cautiously calls out and is met with an enthusiastic “Welcome home!” from Hizashi, his voice reaching him mere seconds before the man in question does.
“You’re using your Quirk,” Shota tells him, his ears faintly ringing and guilt immediately washes over Hizashi’s face.
“Sorry, I didn’t even realise,” he sheepishly says, his voice now a normal voice and Shota waves him off.
“What’s going on?” he asks, because something clearly is and he knows he’s right when Hizashi gives him a blinding smile.
“I’ve been thinking,” he starts and Shota immediately groans.
“That’s never good,” he mutters, a small smile tugging on his lips at Hizashi’s outraged breath.
“I’ll have you know that I only have good ideas,” Hizashi huffs out, crossing his arms in front of his chest and Shota raises a judging eyebrow at him.
“May I remind you of that time you—”
“You may not!” Hizashi snaps, not even letting Shota finish and it makes him chuckle.
“You don’t even know what I wanted to say. It could have been perfectly innocent,” Shota tries but Hizashi only glares at him.
“Nothing you say is perfectly innocent,” he grumbles under his breath, turning around to march into the living-room.
Shota isn’t naïve enough to believe that this is over now, so he simply follows Hizashi. He clearly has something to say and it’s going to go over more smoothly if Shota just listens. For now.
“So what is it you wanted to talk about?” he asks as he sits down next to Hizashi on the couch.
“Your lease will be up at the end of the month,” Hizashi states and Shota raises his eyebrows.
“So?”
“You haven’t renewed it yet.”
Shota clicks his tongue, annoyed at being found out so easily, but he can’t deny what Hizashi said. He doesn’t even know why but he’s been hesitant to call up his landlord and talk about a renewal of the lease. Shota isn’t even entirely sure why.
“I haven’t,” he finally agrees and Hizashi nods.
“Don’t. I mean, it’s not logical, right? Your lease is up and you barely spend time there anyway. We can just add you to my lease and then you’ll be living here.”
Shota has a lot of things he wants to say to that but when he opens his mouth what comes is: “I have stuff there.”
“Oh, please,” Hizashi scoffs. “You have three things in your entire flat.”
“Three things I need,” Shota counters because he thinks it’s a little unwarranted how Hizashi keeps hitting that point.
“And you can need them here, too. Your charger, definitely, you always forget to plug in your phone anyway and then I have to do it for you. Your futon you can bring for any quests we might have over at some point, it’s always good to be prepared in case someone wants to sleep over.”
“The couch is perfectly fine for that,” Shota shoots back and almost withers under Hizashi’s scathing glare.
“Do not get me started on sleeping on the couch again,” he warns, and Shota obediently falls silent even though they never really had that discussion.
Hizashi has just decided one day that sleeping on it is no longer acceptable for Shota and that had been that.
“We don’t need my mini fridge,” Shota tries to argue next and he doesn’t even know why but Hizashi only rolls his eyes at him.
“I don’t, but you certainly do. Don’t think I don’t know you sneak out at night to get one of those disgusting jelly pouches. Put the fridge next to the bed so you don’t have to make such a ruckus every night.”
Shota wonders how Hizashi even knows about that; he always takes his hearing aids out at night and he’s not a light sleeper. And Shota makes sure to be quiet and to be quick.
“Are you allowing me to bring more jelly pouches back to the apartment?” Shota asks with a slowly growing grin and Hizashi groans.
“I’m asking you to bring your things home,” he says with emphasis and that, finally, shuts Shota up for good.
Home.
Hizashi is asking him to make this his home, too. He would no longer be a guest anymore—not that Hizashi has ever made him feel like one in the first place. He would no longer have to spend at least one day of the week at home to keep up pretences.
It would be his home, too.
It seems Shota is staying quiet a little bit too long because Hizashi starts to squirm on the couch.
“It’s just logical, you know. Why keep two apartments when you’re barely even in yours anyway? It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Okay,” Shota agrees softly.
“We’d both save rent like that and you know how the housing market is, you would be doing something good—”
“I said okay,” Shota interrupts him which finally manages to shut Hizashi up.
“Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Shota agrees again and he was not prepared for the blinding smile Hizashi throws his way.
“Perfect, I have the lease here, we can do it right now!”
Shota lets out a sigh, because of course Hizashi has everything prepared already. It should rankle to know that Hizashi was so confident he could get Shota to agree but in reality, it just makes Shota feel warm to know that Hizashi knows him so well and really does want this.
When Shota puts his name on the lease he expected Hizashi let out a loud victory yell. He did not expect him to turn soft eyes on him and say “Welcome home”.
It makes something in Shota’s throat close up but he still manages a quiet “I’m home” anyway.
It’s worth it, for the look on Hizashi’s face.
~ * ~ * ~
Shota can’t sleep. This is unusual enough to be worrying; yes, he’s always tired, but that’s just his general state of being, it’s not because he can’t sleep. He can sleep, wherever and whenever he wants.
So not to be able to sleep even though he’s in bed and tired is worrying.
He turns around again, his eyes finding his phone, which helpfully informs him that he’s been twisting and turning in bed for the better part of the night now and he still doesn’t know why he’s doing this in the first place.
There’s nothing going on; things at school have been fine. His patrols have been fine. There were no major attacks to the city. No injuries for his friends. Nothing is wrong and Shota should be able to sleep.
He’s not though.
He turns back around yet again and wonders how many more times he has to do this before it’s early enough that he can get up, when Hizashi suddenly moves next to him.
Shota freezes immediately because he does not want to wake Hizashi but when a hand lands on his arm he knows that it’s already too late.
“What’s wrong?” Hizashi asks, his voice quiet enough to be barely audible in the room and Shota helplessly shrugs.
That’s the thing, isn’t it? Nothing is wrong.
“Don’t know,” he admits before he curses himself because it’s not as if Hizashi can hear him like this. He’s not even turned towards him to let him read his lips and it only makes Shota more agitated.
Don’t know, he repeats, this time with his hands, but even that is almost futile because it’s so dark in the room that Hizashi will only barely be able to see it.
“’s okay, I have them in,” Hizashi tells him and now that just makes Shota feel worse because Hizashi hates wearing his hearing aids in bed. And he probably put them in because Shota is being annoying.
“Sorry,” he mutters and Hizashi swats at his arm.
“Don’t be. Tell me what’s going on. You’re not one to toss and turn and you’ve been doing it for a while,” he says, clearly aware of that and Shota wonders if maybe it wasn’t him who woke Hizashi up, but if he has trouble sleeping for some reason as well.
It’s almost nice, to think that he might not be alone in this.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Shota almost hisses out, annoyed by the fact that he can’t sleep, that he can’t name what’s wrong and especially annoyed because now he made it Hizashi’s problem, too.
“Alright, let’s figure it out then,” Hizashi decides and tugs on Shota’s arm until he goes with the program and turns on his side so they are face to face.
It’s really dark in the room, but they are close enough that Shota can see the worried look on Hizashi’s face. He’s not annoyed, he’s just genuinely concerned and he’s beautiful with his hair undone and his eyes on Shota.
And suddenly that’s all Shota can see; it’s all Shota can feel and the emotion in his chest makes it hard to breathe for a moment.
Hizashi must notice because he laces their fingers together and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“You’re good, just breathe through it,” he mutters and Shota does because what else is he supposed to do when Hizashi tells him something.
“’zashi, I—it’s just—” Shota tries to say something, anything, but he’s never been good with feelings and emotions and especially not with voicing his own.
He always relied way too much on Hizashi—and back in the day Oboro as well—to understand him anyway, without him having to say any actual words and so he simply doesn’t know how to say this now.
How to tell him that this is everything he ever wanted, slow mornings and hectic days and exhausted evenings, all shared with Hizashi. He doesn’t know how to tell him that Shota is his in a way he could never explain, how to tell him that their shared day off today meant the world to him.
How to tell him that he loves him like he never loved anyone before.
But it seems that maybe he doesn’t have to at all, because Hizashi simply pulls him close, tucks him right into his chest and presses his lips to Shota’s forehead.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs out, his breath tickling Shota’s hair. “Me, too.”
And they really don’t have to say more than that.
~*~*~
Shota is not nervous, he’s not. He might just be—a little agitated. Restless. Right. That’s the only reason why he’s tapping his fingers against the table in a display of nervous energy.
But he’s not. Nervous, that is. He’s simply restless.
He can’t be nervous because the papers in front of him don’t have to mean anything, not if Hizashi doesn’t want them, too, and that’s really all there is to it, right?
If Hizashi doesn’t want them to mean anything then—Shota can’t even finish the thought without tapping his foot as well and he just wishes Hizashi would come home faster.
He should be here any minute now, but it still feels like forever until Shota hears the key in the door.
“Sho, you still up?” Hizashi cautiously calls out, keeping his voice just quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Shota is he were asleep on the couch or something and instantly all the stress drains from Shota.
“Welcome home,” he calls out and that gets Hizashi going, because he pokes his head into the kitchen mere seconds later.
“I’m home,” he greets, his eyes narrowed at Shota before they quickly drop to the papers in front of him and he takes a step into the kitchen when Shota motions for him to do so.
“What’s going on?” Hizashi asks, coming over to sit in Shota’s lap instead of taking his own chair and Shota might be glad for it.
He did feel rather agitated and Hizashi’s weight helps.
“Hi,” Shota says instead of answering him and is rewarded with a lingering kiss to his brow.
“Hi,” Hizashi gives back, slinging an arm around his shoulders and scratching at his nape. “Why are you up?”
It’s definitely not nerves that’s swirling in Shota’s stomach at that, not at all.
“And why are you so nervous?” Hizashi then asks and Shota groans.
If Hizashi picked up on it, then Shota is definitely nervous, there is no way around that now, he simply has to admit it.
“You wanna take a shower first?” Shota asks, because Hizashi did just come from a patrol he covered for a friend and it’s almost four in the morning.
Maybe doing this now isn’t such a good idea, Shota thinks, as Hizashi frowns.
“If you think I can take a shower while I know you’re sitting out here, foregoing sleep, a ball of nervous energy, with mystery papers right in front of you, then you really don’t know me at all.”
“Yeah, thought so,” Shota sighs out and reaches out to flip the stack of papers on the table around.
It very obviously says ‘Marriage Registration Form’ bright and bold on top and Shota finds himself holding his breath.
“Oh, did you find them in my drawer?” Hizashi asks as he quickly flips through them to the last page where Shota already put his signature after filling out everything else.
“Huh?” he very eloquently asks and Hizashi’s eyes dart to him.
“These are not mine.”
“You have a set of these?” Shota asks and Hizashi shrugs, a light blush on his cheeks.
“Well, I do? I have them in my drawer. I signed them already, though, so these ones must be yours?”
“You signed them? Zashi, what? Since when?”
“Two days ago?” Hizashi gives back. “Is it Wednesday? I always get confused with night patrol.”
“It’s Wednesday,” Shota agrees and Hizashi nods.
“Two days, then. I brought them home on Monday.”
“And how long were you going to wait?” Shota accusingly asks and Hizashi snorts out a laugh.
“Excuse me for not wanting to spring this on you after one of your patrols,” he says, but Shota can tell he’s only teasing. “I wanted to bring it up tomorrow. We both have the evening off, after all.”
“You better not be lying,” Shota grumbles and Hizashi moves as if he wants to get up and Shota reflexively slings his arms around his middle, keeping him right where he is.
“I can go and get them, if you don’t believe me,” Hizashi offers, patting Shota’s shoulder.
“You—want to?” Shota asks instead of letting him up and Hizashi’s expression softens.
“Course I want to. Like I said, my set is already signed. Let me sign these, too. Where’s the pen?”
Shota points at it and before he knows what’s happening Hizashi has already put his signature on the documents, right there next to Shota’s.
“You do know that we’ll have to throw a real party, right? Nem is going to kill us if we don’t and Tensei is going to help her, you know he will.”
“I feared as much,” Shota sighs out and rests his head against Hizashi’s chest. “I wouldn’t want to make a widower out of my husband, though, so I guess we can throw one. A small one.”
“Aww, Sho, you do love me,” Hizashi croons out, bending over to press a kiss to Shota’s hair and they are not demonstrative like that, not vocal about this between them, but Shota thinks that just this once—
“I do. I do love you,” he agrees, not picking his head out of Hizashi’s chest but he can just imagine the look on his face, anyway.
“You’re such a softie,” Hizashi mutters after he smothered Shota in more kisses and now that finally has Shota glaring up at him again.
“I’m not,” he argues, but Hizashi only smiles at him.
“Yes, you are. For me and your kids. Don’t even deny that, I know you love your kids.”
Shota smirks at him as he knocks a knuckle on the freshly signed papers in front of them.
“Our kids, now.”
“Oh, hell no, I’m not adopting twenty kids with you, Sho,” Hizashi immediately laughs out and Shota grins.
“Three then,” he bargains. He didn’t even know he wanted kids before Hizashi, but three seems like a good number. “And a cat,” he belatedly adds, because that’s important, too.
“Two kids and two cats,” Hizashi shoots back, an amused smile still on his face and Shota frowns but before he can argue with Hizashi a hand covers his mouth.
“No, think about it, that's just perfect. If the kids get agitated we can just sit them down on the couch and plop a cat in their lap. Problem solved,” Hizashi explains and Shota licks Hizashi’s hand so he can get a word in as well.
“And what if I get agitated? What then?”
“Then I'll plop myself into your lap, just like I did today,” Hizashi easily says and Shota snorts. “It was effective, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Shota has to admit because Hizashi had grounded him and he’s not above admitting that.
“Two kids and two cats, then,” Hizashi reiterates. “And me for you.”
“Or me for you,” Shota shoots back because between the two of them Hizashi is usually the one who gets anxious more easily.
“Deal,” Hizashi immediately agrees as if he just waited for that and before Shota can pout at him, Hizashi leans down and kisses his complaints right off his lips.
When they part Shota doesn’t even know what he was nervous about to begin with because he should have known that things would fall in place easily.
They always do with Hizashi.