S T R A Y
shipping meme
Taking in strays is, all in all, an understandable vice. The dips in between their ribs, those large and forlorn eyes, they can help you forget the claws and the teeth and the danger lurking beneath fur. But the habit's a knife edge; your efforts may not be rewarded with kindness (animal instincts aren't discretionary) and you may get bit despite what you've overlooked. A stray doesn't care about pity. All it can know is survival.
These warnings apply to strays of the more human(oid) sort, too.
But what may even more perilous with this type than any drawn blood is what you can get when they grow to trust you. You can earn their undying loyalty...or their love. Either from such a wild thing is a precarious path to go down, if you allow yourself to do it.
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ＰＲＯＭＰＴＳ
- ғɪɴᴅɪɴɢ — Who's that? They're no ordinary passersby! Were they in an accident? Are they foreign? ...should you approach them?
- ʀᴀɪɴ, ʀᴀɪɴ, ɢᴏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ — The elements make this night no time to sleep out of doors.
- ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ — Cuts, broken bones, injuries all of sorts...you have to stitch them back up, then make sure they don't get any
- ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — It's all you can do to show gratitude to the person who took you in. Fix them a meal, care for their house, whatever you can do once you're able.
- ʙᴀᴅ ɢᴜᴇsᴛ — FUCK THIS PERSON AND FUCK THEIR COUCH. You didn't ask to be brought here. Let them clean up after you, you don't even care.
- ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴍ ɪ? — How you got into this situation is a mystery. Even more of a mystery is your identity, and why the person you were would be so displaced.
- sᴇʟғʟᴇssɴᴇss —
- ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ — If you've been injured badly enough or can't remember all too well, you might have to relearn a good deal. Luckily, you have a helping hand.
- sᴄᴀʀs — Scars from the encounter that lead you here or scars from prior, you don't want them to see either. You still have your secrets to keep.
- sᴛᴜʙʙᴏʀɴ — Ugh, your house guest is so stubborn! They always get up when they should be resting, have the worst habits, and completely disrespect your home! You'll get to them, one way or another. Or you'll throw them out. You don't want to, but you will.
- ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ — Bad memories or nightmares wreck you; your host and nurse comes to your side unexpectedly.
- ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄʟᴀsʜ — The person who's taken you in is from a different culture or lifestyle than you, and adapting is harder than you thought.
- ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ — Think learning about a new culture is hard? Try being a different species. Can you keep your little eccentricities at bay for the good of your station?
- ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ — Now that your emotions towards your caretaker/host/jailer are softening, you're finding yourself unusually jealous of those in their life who were close to them before.
- ɴᴇᴡ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛɪᴇs — You never thought you'd have fun after all that's happened, yet such simple gestures as a picnic or a movie make all the difference.
- ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ — You love them, this person who's taken you in or this person you've found. It's not a pity or a thankfulness, it's love, and you know that now. What you choose to do with this information is
- ʜɪsᴛᴏʀʏ — Suddenly, the person who's been so nice to you finds out that the two of you have a history. You killed their loved ones or caused something terrible. How can they forgive you?
- ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ — So much has been done for you. The least you can do in return for the one who helped you at your lowest is make sure they never have such a low point.
- ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ — Anyone in the way of getting to you will be destroyed, and that includes the person you're staying with.
- ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ — You've been given a home, maybe which you've never had before. You don't want to leave.
- ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ — Not only are you living with them, but you're starting a proper life with them.
- ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟ — All secrets are laid out on the table. You've decided to tell about your past and what lead you here.
- ʀᴇᴠᴜʟsɪᴏɴ — What you've done and who you are is so heinous, they want nothing more to do. You're to leave their home and leave them alone.
- ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ — It doesn't matter what they've done. You've opened your home and your heart to them, and nothing's changed.
- ᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ — All things must come to an end. No matter what you feel for each other, it's time to leave. Hopefully, you'll see each other again.
- ʜᴀᴘᴘɪʟʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ — Come what may, you've decided to stay at your new home with the person you love. Now, it's safe enough to do so.
- ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ
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bakerstreet2017-10-22 07:48 pm
no subject
He doesn't want to -- disappoint him. There's a lot going on in his head right now, so much he feels set to burst. He wanted it to be a joke, some sort of humorous... logical ruse. A way to mock him for his devotion towards fans and their words. But he knew from the moment he got halfway down the page, it was real. He knew better than that, read enough to differentiate, too. He glances up at Aizawa, who is tucking his chin and probably wanting to melt into the floorboards.
He wasn't going to say it to his face... That much is clear.
He folds the letter very carefully, holding it like its glass, intentions clear; he's not going to burn it. Of course he's not. Whatever happens with this, he values Aizawa's honest feelings too much to ever downplay them. To think less of them. Sometime this year... he may not even be here to read this. How unfair is that, that he let this go on, knowing he was potentially standing at a great ravine he couldn't walk away from?
He steps forward, and reaches out, taking the clenched fist in one hand before placing his other hand atop it. It's still... insane, to think he... But he's not going to wave it all away as childish or naive. Because then, what would he be?]
I'm sorry. For saying it so dismissively. Your kindness has been -- invaluable in ways I can't explain. You've even saved my life. [He laughs softer.] But I can't... I need to think. I have to think.
[... He smiles, forlorn, at the ground. Toshinori had been selfish to push his luck, and now Aizawa's paying the price. And yet despite how he wants to bottle it up, hide it from the other to help soothe the sting, it tumbles out of his mouth before he can even think.
Because maybe Aizawa wasn't the only one to take advantage of the situation, to feel this one-sided... something.
Of course, it didn't go to plan. He can't even look him in the eye, he's so ashamed.]
You weren't supposed to love me back.
[1/2]
[Staring down at the floor, he sees that familiar pair of knobby, bony feet. He feels his hand taken and while his senses are telling him everything he needs, it all feels distant. Sound hits his ears, an apology, kind words, and things slowly start to make sense. Toshinori would need time to think, that makes sense. In his mind, it's just a postponement of an inevitable rejection but that makes sense. It adheres to his mental picture of how the world should be. It still hurts but it was a hurt he was expecting.]
[His shoulders relax, a little.]
[He parts his lips, as if to say, "That's fine." "I can wait." "Give it proper thought"-]
[2/2]
What? [He understood that sentence completely until the "back" part. Without the "back" part, he could accept it entirely. Yet, somehow, defying all reasoning, a single word could change the meaning of a sentence so entirely as to send every process in his brain screeching to a halt.]
[The sheer surprise value of implied reciprocation is enough to make him look up, look for any sign of- He's not sure. A concussion? Some abnormal thing in the background to imply this was a dream? There's nothing of the sort.]
no subject
But he's betting neither of them have any clue how to navigate that situation. Hilarious, he thinks, but not really hilarious at all. He'd brought Aizawa into his home without complaint, he'd let him rustle through his things, he'd sat nightly to watch the news and was more than happy to prepare a big dinner, to gush about him to Miyuki... Haaaa, he supposes he'd been lying to himself often enough, explaining it away. I'm just being a good hotel manager. I'm just letting Aizawa get comfortable. I'm just watching the news, and he happens to be nearby. I'm just this, just that, just everything.
But of course it's more than that.
He's surprised he played it so well.
He lets the hand go, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away with a grimace and a blush.]
... We should. Get ready for school.
... Your drinks you like are in the fridge, if you need a quick breakfast.
[He's quick to walk away, to leave Aizawa in surprise as he closes the bedroom door behind him, the other hero to his things on the couch. Time, yes. He needs time to think. Thinking helps. Or doesn't. Does it? Fuck. Shit. Dammit.]
no subject
Hey, Yagi-san-! [Aaand he's gone. He intended to give the other time to think and yet every fiber of his being wanted to go over, slam his fist against the door, and demand to be answered.]
[That was completely irrational, of course. Love was completely irrational.]
[So, instead, he picks up his capture cloth and lets the weight hang comfortably on his shoulders again. He'd need to change clothes, get ready, but there were some steps that were just more important. Familiar was important, right now. Breakfast didn't feel as important. What about his things? He'd intended to collect them after the school day, but he has no idea how much time Toshinori will need. He has no clue if Toshinori wants to see him during that time.]
[It was probably better to take them now, he decides. He could stuff the bags in the corner of the teacher's office just in case. Once that's decided, his body seems to pick up on the cues of normalcy. He changes clothes, makes sure every last stray paper he was grading has made it into his bag, and represses his emotions like a true pro hero. Towards the end, he does grab one of his drink pouches because it dawns on him that he's probably not getting a lunch box.]
[He can already hear Hizashi yelling at him, "He was going to make you a lunch box? He ONE HUNDRED PERCENT likes you!" and doesn't know how to feel about it.]
[And then the gentle knock on the other's door then isn't to demand answers but to say,]
Yagi-san, I'm going on ahead. [Is it taking the coward's way out? Probably. What was he scared of now that he hadn't been rejected? ... Being accepted? Was that just as strange and terrifying? They both needed time to think. Thinking would help. Or complicate things more. Fuck. Shit. Dammit.]
no subject
But --]
Don't forget your -- lunch...!
[He kind of hesitates and immediately feels so foolish; it sounds like something you'd say to a spouse, huh? He's seen enough movies and television to know that, even if he couldn't relate back then. And true to Toshinori's word, there's a bento box wrapped in a fabric patterned with black cats.
How the hell were they going to get through a whole school day like this? Shimura-sensei, give him the strength to survive the torment he's caused the two of them.
Time to think, he'd called it.
More like... time to be the worst teacher, too lost in thought to properly work. He knows Aizawa will at least pick up the professional end of things for when he fumbles. He sucks in a breath and tastes blood; business as usual. Come on, is that not a reminder of what a poor idea it is, to involve someone in his life romantically?
....
Shouta Aizawa loves him.
The guy who sighed and huffed and corrected him, who had limited his time more often to napping than dealing with the boisterous company of All Might...
He loves him back.
What is he going to do?]
no subject
[By the time Toshinori is ready to leave, the cat-patterned bento will be pointedly missing. He's selfish and weak and it would just be wasted otherwise.]
[It's a relief to get to work. Mic can immediately tell something is different, Midnight has a look in her eye, but everything else is usual. Toshinori's messing up, the usual, so Aizawa responds with his usual sharpness. Things are almost normal, for a moment, until they lock eyes and Aizawa immediately turns away and moves ahead with the lesson a little more quickly than before.]
[He vanishes during lunch. If he told Mic there was nothing new to report, he'd be lying, it's easier to just escape to the rooftop and think. It feels like some cliche school scene again. Maybe it was just because the last time he dated anyone had been back then. He'd been in happy disbelief that Hizashi also liked him. And, well, half of that applied to now, as well.]
[He wasn't supposed to love him "back"... Well, he did. Shouldn't that be something to be happy about? He mentally reviews his list of reasons they were incompatible, realizing how simply some had changed with the idea that Toshinori loved him.]
[Unless Toshinori decided to take back what he said... wasn't this actually a good situation?]
[By the end of the day, he's settled into something like normalcy. His brain wasn't racing with potential consequences. He could grade half the class' papers before finding his attention pulled up to look for that abnormally tall head over the top of his computer monitor. He didn't feel the need to go out with Mic and drink, which had been a strong contender for his evening plans this morning. He'll work at his desk, figuring that if Toshinori was ready to talk to him, he'd be readily available. If not, then... cat cafe sounded good tonight.]
no subject
Should he, though? Should he explain and give cause for concern? Or should he just... Let it go.
Aizawa will heal over time, after all. And Toshinori doesn't mind pining and feeling an ache, if it means giving the other room to move onto someone better. There are more fish in the sea, as they say!! He just needs to go dating, find someone who is far more in his league and on his level...! Plus ultra!
But, uh. Entering the office and seeing Aizawa's bowed head as he worked was sapping him of willpower to do just that kind of speech. He sighs softly, moving to sit at his cubicle -- which is right across from him. But their faces can be hidden, and maybe this is a good way to be able to say something without having to see the torment or confusion or... or whatever it may be.]
... Hello, Aizawa-kun.
no subject
Yagi-san. [he nods, very slightly, and sets down the stack of papers he was working on.]
Is this work-related, or...? [Related to the obvious. He's not sure Toshinori's done much thinking today, with all the little flubs and mistakes. He wouldn't be surprised for it to take more time. Maybe, though, he's just a bit more ready to have this conversation than he thought he'd be. He can't know all of Toshinori's worries. He doesn't have all the information, so he can't make a prediction.]
[But, objectively, he knows he's gotten closer to Toshinori than he ever thought possible. Maybe there's a chance.]
no subject
He's learned a lot about Aizawa, but he's not entirely sure if that response is a definite question or him asking this remain work-related. So, he plays it safe, tapping an eraser on his desk.]
... You didn't seem... to agree with some of the quirk exercises laid out for each student. So I wanted to... ask what you think better options for Hagakure and Koda are, since we share the class at this time.
[He does alright at being the Foundational Hero Studies Teacher now that some time and training has passed, but you know. He could do better. Much better. Maybe grade papers a bit more harshly? He's always been a bit too lenient with them.
Maybe Aizawa prefers this topic instead.
Or maybe he's just stupidly dodging the elephant in the room.]
no subject
[... No. He said he'd give Toshinori time. He doesn't need to glare an answer out of him. He leans back and answers, professional as always.]
Hagakure has done an excellent job of using her invisibility but she's relying on it too heavily. I'd like to place her in more situations in which her invisibility is compromised. Smoke, dust, paint, or something as simple as providing a sparring partner with thermal goggles from the support class. For Koda, I'd like to expand his functional range. He can't always rely on being close-range with the animals he chooses to cooperate with. He either needs to get louder or innovate.
[Another pause, sitting back up straight to enter a few quick keyboard commands.]
You don't have to make a decision about it right now. You can continue with what you had planned, if you're too distracted. [That "if" was almost kind because his tone really said "you're too distracted."]
no subject
I guess I've been a little... distracted. Sorry. I'll do better.
[Despite living quirkless for a while and needing to use his fists the old-fashioned away against the bigger, meaner children (with quirks), he had really no clue how to treat... most quirks. Train them. Because as All Might, he didn't need to hide, he didn't worry about ranges. He was strong enough, fast enough, and resilient enough to not have to think about those sorts of weaknesses. It's understandable that some came to resent him for it; yeah, he got a lot of mail and praise, but All Might came with plenty of disdain, too.
He shrugged it off, mostly, because it hardly deterred him from his goals. As thin a skin as he sometimes has about his appearance when he's normal? There's no being All Might for that many years without being able to turn the other cheek. A lot.
Ugh, he thinks too hard on this. It should really come more naturally.
He starts penning what Aizawa says, tucking his 'Teaching for Dummies' book under the desk.
A firsthand opinion is centuries better.
... From the person who... loves him. And he loves.
He clenches the pen in hand, but keeps at his work. Silence lulls.
And lulls. And settles. And blankets them.]
I suppose I... don't need to make decisions about it right now. But. I don't want to discard your thoughts on the matter, either. I'm just worried I will let you and your class down if my choices are poorly made. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, right?
[He glances sparingly at the tussled black hair.
You hearing these intense double-meanings?]
no subject
[He's an idiot but Aizawa holds his tongue.]
[The silence sets in between them. For a little bit, Aizawa doesn't continue his own work, he just seems to be waiting. There's no indication if he's waiting for more questions, waiting for a response from this morning, or simply considering how he'd like to be asleep right now.]
[And of course it's when he picks up a paper again that Toshinori starts talking in heavy-handed double-meanings.]
If one poorly made choice is enough to ruin something, it wasn't strong enough in the first place. [And he intended to put the students through hell anyways, if they're mixing metaphors. They're certainly mixing two completely different situations, anyways. How unnecessarily confusing. He's left idly wondering which of the two possible solutions to his confession might be "good intentions."]
no subject
It also gives him a moment, to figure out what to say. He grades carefully.]
It wouldn't be the students who weren't strong enough -- it'd be my own incompetence, right? Students with poor teachers tend to be worse off. [Oh, for fuck's sake, what's even the message... He sighs.] I mean... I'm not... going to always be here for them. I would like... my time as a teacher to be used helping... not hurting.
[Just spit it out, Toshi.
Nighteye would have appreciate he do so. Gran Torino, too.]
no subject
[There's a small, irritated downward twitch of his lip. That way of speaking was almost masochistic. He can't imagine Toshinori wanted any comfort or coddling. Even with knowledge that Aizawa loved him, he wasn't stupid enough to try such an indirect way of getting attention. So, did he want to be derided? Did he want the whole thing to be a joke, a ruse, because it being true was too difficult?]
[... was Toshinori truly just as bad as him, when it came to negativity?]
[Helping, not hurting. Undeniably he was hurt by being in love with Toshinori. He'd been hurt by his choices as a hero, as well, the simple fact of something hurting didn't make it bad. He'd mentioned something in the hospital, hadn't he, that he wouldn't "trouble" someone with a significant other like that. So, how troublesome was it?]
I suppose, when time is limited, it's easy to overthink that sort of thing.
[He stops, sort of slumping forward to catch his face in his palm, a clear gesture of no work getting done. So, how limited was their time?]
Yagi-san. [he hesitates a bit, closing his eyes and choosing his phrasing carefully.] Do you expect to see this class graduate? [If it was in his power to, the answer should be yes. For being so worried, so self-deprecating, he'd taken to teaching with far more passion than Aizawa. That stupid book tucked away was proof of it. He'd definitely want to see Midoriya graduate, if he could. That would be a bit over two years. Could he have two years, loving Toshinori?]
no subject
Ahh, so here it is. He feels cowardly for having gotten to this without just... saying it. But he doesn't have to be brave ol' All Might for this. Aizawa doesn't prefer him -- he prefers Toshinori Yagi, right? His pen stops on the paper, leaving an ink blot, red and thick like blood. Midoriya had been so terribly distressed -- had argued that they could do something, that it could have changed despite Nighteye's accuracy. Maybe that's true. Maybe if something... anything... pushes hard enough to alter fate...
But what would that something be?
He is a realist in this situation. He's clawed to life, clung onto it for the sake of Midoriya and the students. Back then. Now, he's not sure if he should put Aizawa through the same sort of uncertainty... Does he expect to be alive in two years, to see their rise into heroism?
He scribbles an A+ on Midoriya's quiz.]
... I don't.
I'm not even sure if I will finish this year.
no subject
Ah, I see. [-A part of him is upset. He seems to do a good enough job of masking it, staring at the faintly glowing screen in front of him. It would be reasonable enough to stop there and indulgently soak in the sadness. The person he loved was going to die, not in some far off future sense, but sometime soon. A year ago he would have called the whole situation laughably tragic and not thought a second more on it. As he is now, though, there's a second emotion bubbling up under the facade of indifference.]
[He's angry.]
[So little time left and he was still preoccupied with doing the best for his students. The best for people around him. The best for everyone, anyone but himself. He pulls himself back up to sitting, and when his hand makes its way back to the desk it's with a sharp, pointed slam.]
So, then, Yagi-san, with what we talked about this morning... [He entirely forgets his previous restraint. The mental mantra of "give him time, give him time" is torn as easily as a strip of paper.]
What was I "supposed" to do? [He stands up, leans over, rests his palm over the top of the computer monitor and doesn't bother to hide how tight his grip is. Toshinori was one of the few people he actually had to look up at but here, him standing and the other sitting, he could manage a reasonable glaring down.] Did you expect me to be indifferent? Hope that I would sleep through the funeral? Was your plan to just bury your feelings and hope I wouldn't stick around to bury you?
[Even in some version of reality where he didn't love Toshinori, that was still foolish, insulting, and cruel.]
no subject
[He looks up, frowning, keeping his voice lowered, just in case.]
What would you do, Aizawa-kun? If you liked someone and felt it had been -- one-sided, but you knew you were on limited time. That you couldn't offer them anymore than what you had left... It would have been selfish of me to put this on you, not when I thought you could barely tolerate me before what happened in Kamino! I had been relieved enough knowing you enjoyed my company over time...!
[He rubs a hand over his face.]
I've never... been in a relationship. I was okay with that, too.
And I had been content, knowing we could at least be good friends. Had I known you...
[He trails off, unsure, because he doesn't even remotely know what he would have done. Dammit all.]
no subject
I thought it was one-sided... and I was so close to just being content with your friendship, you big-hearted idiot. [There's an astounding amount of venom thrown into that word.]
[He would have handed over the letter anyways. If he'd handed it over then, as planned, would they have hit this point? With time to think, would Toshinori have managed to pull himself together and gently reject him, like they'd both envisioned? His grip loosens a bit and he speaks a bit more calmly, next.]
Unlike you, I am selfish. [He was willing to risk Toshinori hating him, becoming uncomfortable with him, and with the idea he'd be around much longer. He was willing to ruin it, so long as it was his to ruin. He'd hesitated because he was so happy. If Toshinori loved him, though, if Toshinori wouldn't be selfish...]
I love you. If you're so resigned to dying, and if you love me, [because, even in the midst of whatever this is, that still matters,] Then give yourself to me. Let me be the only person you've ever dated. Let me own a part of you for as long as you have left. [The words spill out with a dark kind of intensity. It was the sort of thing he'd thought but deemed too selfish to even put in the letter. When he wrote it, of course, he would have just been happy to be the first person to send Toshinori Yagi a love letter and "claim" that. Now his desires could only intensify.]
Let me- [his breath hitches, like he realizes they're still in the office, they're at work. His expression softens. He bows his head again, ducking behind his bangs.] -try and make you happy.
1/2
He's never really had someone willing to devote so much. Is that what it's supposed to be like? A time where he can devote himself to something and it reach back? It's too good to be true, really, and Aizawa's offering it with a boldness that leaves him without words for a moment.
He decides then and there, with newfound confidence in Aizawa's endearingly intense speech. Standing up slowly, he looks across their mountains of work toward the anticipating man.]
I did have some time. And I did some thinking. Aaa... around the time I got hit upside the head by a dodgeball, actually, is around when I started coming to terms with what happened this morning.
[This is better when you're not glaring and stuttering at each other from over a cubicle, you know? Maybe it's risky at work, but it's pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things.]
I was told six years ago by Sir Nighteye... that I would be killed by a villain, in a terrible fight. It would be... messy, and it would happen six or seven years after the prediction. It was inevitable -- Nighteye's quirk is always accurate, and with every step, I draw closer to that day. I had leaped right for it, determined to at least get as much done as I could before that time would come.
[He stops in front of Aizawa -- looking down with that full foot of height on the other.]
But not so long ago, I told someone I would fight that fate... and I have every intention of doing it, even if it's hopeless and there will come a time I'm at the end of my rope. That kid, they told me that they'd help me fight, too. [I will twist fate with you...! Ha, what a good student. Aizawa surely knows just who brings that little smile across his face.] I would like to claw my way through life for as long as I can, for him and the others... And.
no subject
If you are truly okay with it... If I can be selfish...
Whether this future is capable or not of being changed, I would like to have you there in it.
Perhaps -- eating dinner on the sofa, or... holding hands on a bed... or in a hospital...
If you'll still have me.
[What an old, traditional bastard, sounding so formal.
Basically, the culmination of this response is as summarized:
'Fuck it.']
no subject
[He listens and is struck by the fact that the inevitability of death seems to have moved into the past tense. That was obviously the preference, of course, but some part of his heart- lights up a little, at how he says that. Even if Midoriya was the catalyst for that kind of revelation (because of course he was and maybe someday he'd understand Toshinori's blatant favoritism), he could have a place there, too. There was extra meaning it imparted on when Toshinori had told him he helped twist his fate in the hospital.]
[Here they are again, standing like this, looking at each other. He looks up at the other with a sort of quiet expectation. He just demanded they date; he was truly okay with it. He was asking for so much; it was fine for Toshinori to be selfish. A stranger might not view it as a happy reaction but the tension immediately drains from Aizawa's shoulders like it's such a relief for Toshinori to just say it.]
[He's even relieved enough to look a bit embarrassed when holding hands is mentioned.]
... so, you noticed that... [he lets out a small hiss of breath through his teeth, briefly glancing down at the floor. After a moment's pause, he reaches out to grab the other's hand and pointedly lace their fingers together. Any one of those sounded fine. Even the hospital would be more tolerable, if he could fluster the other by saying "boyfriend" openly. He meets Toshinori's stare.]
Do I look like someone who would change my mind after coming this far? [A firm squeeze of the other's hand, even though his is smaller.] I chose you. I'd make the same choice any number of times... because, I love you.
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Months ago, you were the last person I'd ever expected, holding my hand like this.
[The world is a very funny place. Good funny, a lot of the time. That's why he gave as much as he possibly could to keep it safe. Blood, sweat, and tears stifled by overly large grins.]
All Might notices everything, of course! [That's a lie, but he figures he gets to say this sort of ridiculous stuff. It's in his retirement pamphlet, right? He stands there for a breath, clasping Aizawa's hand back and feeling a little like reeling. Where do they go from here? How do they work this out, working here, living as a hero and retired hero, surrounded by uncertainties? He supposes he's blessed by the fact that Aizawa really does know him inside and out, back at his apartment. There's nothing to really hide anymore.
He takes a hand and scrubs it through Aizawa's hair, almost like he's a kid or little brother.
Really, to tease him right now...]
If I remember right, you also liked to do this sort of thing to people who nap on you. Just like how you buy them socks and eat their bento boxes. [A soft sigh.] Because of things like that... I love you, too -- [A pause. If this was really happening... well.] Shouta-kun.
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[Or, well, should they do anything slowly? On one hand, there's the fact it's Toshinori's first relationship (and there's a really selfish sense of satisfaction in that), but on the other if they were limited in time why bother waiting? Maybe he'd just see there the boundaries were and push them when he felt like it. That was enough of a plan for now.]
[He's not ashamed of anything Toshinori lists off, he's not embarrassed to exchange "I love you"s, but...]
[Logically, it shouldn't be a problem, and if Toshinori hadn't he would have started insisting he be called by first name. It's not even a case of underexposure, since Hizashi's always been yelling "Shouta, Shouta" at him for years. So, why the hell are his cheeks getting so warm at hearing it? He dips his chin down, sinking into his capture cloth, which actually does very little to hide how red he's getting.]
Ah, well. [It was love, of course.] You remembered right, Toshinori. [He at least had the edge of trying it out once before, so it didn't feel as awkward on his lips.]
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Aizawa-- aah, Shouta goes red, and he can't help but find some satisfation in making the otherwise straight-faced man embarrassed about the whole ordeal. It's cute, just like it had been before, in the hospital. Very cute. Hand still close, he pulls Shouta into a hug, because he's been wanting to do this since forever. He's always looked comfortable to hug, you know. Not in expression, of course; he had his concerns about getting clawed at like he was embracing an unruly cat.]
I'm glad to have come across you, Shouta.
I'll -- do my best to be what you deserve.
[However long he can.
Maybe this is another reason for living he can use to try and keep those embers alive.
... Boy, it'd be awkward if someone walked through that door.]
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