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Some days, Hizashi really wishes he lived alone.
Honestly, he doesn’t know why he’s the one who always ends up making breakfast for his roommate’s one night stands. If he’s going to end up feeding them, he should have at least gotten to enjoy the sex the night before.
“On a scale from ‘cereal is good’ to ‘give me all the grease,’ how hungover are you?” Hizashi asks as Nemuri’s latest boy-toy stumbles into the kitchen. Hizashi has his head stuck in one of the cupboards as he rummages through it, searching for something suitable to cook.
However, when he finally turns to face Nemuri’s new boy-toy, he finds himself staring.
Normally his taste in partners doesn’t really overlap with Nemuri’s but this one Hizashi wouldn’t mind taking a tumble in the sheets with. Dark, messy hair spills down to his shoulders, a smattering of stubble on his upper lip and chin. The wrinkled jeans he’s wearing hang low on his waist, revealing a small glimpse of hipbones and a toned stomach, and Hizashi finds himself wondering how it’s possible for someone to look so effortlessly attractive.
He swallows thickly and tries not to wonder too much about what sort of kinky shit Nemuri and Boy-Toy got up to last night. From what he knows of Nemuri’s sex life, Boy-Toy probably didn’t get too much sleep last night, and the shadows under his eyes certainly support that assumption.
“Honestly, at this point I’ll take whatever you’re offering,” Boy-Toy says, and Hizashi’s brain short-circuits for a moment before he remembers that what he’d just offered was breakfast.
“Bacon it is,” Hizashi manages, turning to open the fridge and half-wishing that it would just swallow him up and save him from completely embarrassing himself.
The vast majority of the time, Nemuri is a great roommate. She always pays her share of the rent on time, and never drags her feet on chores like taking out the trash and cleaning the bathroom (which is good, because Hizashi hates cleaning the bathroom, even though his morning hair routine is the thing that causes the most mess). Still, Hizashi could do without her springing hot people on him at nine in the morning when he’s still in a pair of ratty pink sweatpants, his hair held up in a sloppy half-bun.
“So, you’re Yamada?” Boy-Toy asks, coming over to lean back against the kitchen counter as Hizashi starts prepping the food. “Nemuri talks about you a lot.”
“She does?” Hizashi replies, surprised. He’d assumed that Boy-Toy was just another stranger Nemuri had picked up at a club.
“Aizawa Shōta,” Boy-Toy says, apparently realizing that he still hasn’t introduced himself.
“You’re Aizawa?” Hizashi blurts out before he can stop himself. Nemuri’s been weirdly pushy about trying to get him to meet her college friend Aizawa for a while, and now he regrets begging off drinks last time. He’s definitely wishing he’d had the opportunity to make a better first impression.
“Were you expecting something else?” Aizawa asks, quirking an eyebrow at Hizashi.
“Well, uh,” Hizashi says awkwardly, wondering how to phrase it. “Nemuri said that you’re a teacher?”
“Even teachers have a life on the weekends,” Aizawa snorts, and Hizashi swallow thickly, trying not to think about what it would have been like to meet Aizawa on the dancefloor of a club last night. “I’ll be presentable in time for school on Monday morning.”
“I didn’t mean to imply – ” Hizashi sputters, his cheeks heating.
“It’s fine,” Aizawa interrupts, and his lips quirk up in the barest hint of an amused smile. “Being a teacher probably seems fairly boring in comparison to being a radio host.”
“How did you know that I’m – ” Hizashi asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Nemuri,” Aizawa answers simply, before Hizashi can even finish his question. “And I think I’ve heard your show once or twice while stuck in traffic.”
“Oh,” Hizashi says, a little awkwardly.
The two of them lapse into silence for a long moment, Hizashi trying to distract himself from the awkwardness by busying himself with making breakfast. Aizawa leans against the counter, watching him, and Hizashi can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable under Aizawa’s intense gaze. Normally he’d be basking in it, trying to flirt a little and show off his best angles, but right now he’s overly conscious of the fact that he’s still dressed in ratty pink sweat pants, while Aizawa probably just had mind-blowing sex with Nemuri.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Aizawa finally asks, and Hizashi startles a little as he notices that Aizawa’s moved a little closer to him.
“Oh, uh, you could, uh,” Hizashi stutters, his thoughts all jumbled as he takes half a step backwards, trying to put a little more space between him and Aizawa. “Set the table? I guess? Is Nemuri up yet?”
“She’s in the shower. She said she’d be quick, though,” Aizawa replies, and Hizashi just barely manages to catch himself before asking why Aizawa isn’t in there with her. Poor Boy-Toy’s already been kicked to the curb.
Then again, if Aizawa and Nemuri are college friends, then maybe this is a thing they have. An arrangement. Hizashi’s never known Nemuri to stick with a single sex partner for too long, but then again, Aizawa doesn’t seem like Nemuri’s typical sort of plaything.
“Where are the plates?” Aizawa asks, breaking Hizashi from his thoughts.
“In the cabinet above the microwave,” Hizashi answers, a little relieved when Aizawa has to move away from him to get to the cupboard. “Chopsticks and stuff are in the drawer on the right of the sink.”
Of course, the brief sense of relief Hizashi feels at having some space between him and Aizawa abruptly vanishes as Aizawa reaches up to open the cabinet with the plates, his shirt riding up and revealing the sharp cut of his hipbones again, along with a trail of dark hair leading down into his pants. Hizashi swallows thickly and quickly tears his eyes away, turning on the stove and hoping that cooking will be enough to distract him.
Thankfully, frying the bacon and making toast is enough to keep Hizashi from thinking about how much he’d like to bite Aizawa’s hips for a little while. However, it doesn’t take Aizawa too long to finish setting the table and soon enough he’s leaning back against the kitchen counter again, a little too close for Hizashi’s comfort.
In fact, it’s enough to briefly distract Hizashi again, making him glance over at Aizawa, but a moment later he’s brought back down to earth as a bit of hot grease from the pan spatters onto the back of his hand.
“Shit – ” Hizashi hisses, flinching and dragging his hand farther away from the stove.
“Are you alright?” Aizawa asks, and Hizashi startles a little as he feels Aizawa’s hand wrap around his wrist. Hizashi’s pretty sure his whole face flushes red as Aizawa drags his hand closer in order to inspect it, and Hizashi can’t help but wonder if Aizawa’s gaze is always this intense.
“It was just a bit of grease,” Hizashi finally manages, but he can’t quite muster the effort to pull his hand away.
Aizawa opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, a third voice says, “Well, it looks like you boys are getting along.”
“Nemuri!” Hizashi exclaims, taking a step back from Aizawa, who drops his hand. Hizashi can’t help but grimace as he turns to face Nemuri and sees a distinctly amused look on her face. Hizashi hopes that his attraction to Aizawa isn’t too obvious, but unfortunately Nemuri can be remarkably perceptive when he really doesn’t want her to be.
“The bacon’s going to burn,” Aizawa says, before Hizashi can reply to Nemuri with anything too self-incriminating, and Hizashi curses under his breath, turning back to the stove and scooping the remaining pieces of bacon out of the pan.
Well, it’s a good thing he’s always preferred his bacon crispy.
All through breakfast, Hizashi finds himself watching how Aizawa and Nemuri interact. The kitchen table is fairly small and the two of them end up squished rather close together, shoulders brushing against one another and knees knocking together. While Nemuri’s not a much of a morning person, she seems brighter than usual today, smirking and teasing Aizawa, and Hizashi wouldn’t even be able to tell that she’s still slightly hungover if it weren’t for the way she winced when he’d turned on an extra lamp.
To be completely honest, Hizashi never seen Nemuri act like this around someone before. Sure, Nemuri’s pretty open with him, and she certainly likes to make fun of him in a light hearted sort of way, but it’s rare to see her quite this enthusiastic. Maybe it’s because Aizawa’s only just moved back to Tokyo and they haven’t seen each other in a while, but Hizashi can’t help but wonder if it’s something…
More.
“So, what do you think?” Nemuri asks once Aizawa’s finally gone back to his own apartment, leaving Nemuri and Hizashi to themselves.
“About what?” Hizashi replies, leaning against the counter as Nemuri starts washing their dishes.
“About Shōta,” Nemuri answers, giving Hizashi a look like her question should have been obvious. Still, it’s not like she’s asked Hizashi what he’s thought of any of her other one-night-stands before.
“He seems nice,” Hizashi says noncommittally, and tries not to think about Aizawa’s hipbones.
“No, seriously, I want details,” Nemuri huffs, scrubbing at a particularly difficult spot on the bacon pan. “Like, on a scale of one to ten, how hot do you think he is?”
“How hot?” Hizashi sputters, his cheeks flushing.
“Yeah, how hot,” Nemuri repeats, not looking up from the pan she’s cleaning, like this is a normal conversation to have about a guy she just fucked. “Also, did you two manage to play nice while I was in the shower? And would you mind if he was over more often?”
It’s the last question that makes Hizashi pause. Maybe the reason he’s never actually seen Nemuri act like this around someone before is because he’s never seen her actually want to date someone before.
Isn’t it just his luck that he would happen to be attracted to his roommate’s new boyfriend?
“Well, we got along fine while you were in the shower,” Hizashi finally manages, picking at a small hole that’s developed in his t-shirt and carefully not looking over at Nemuri. “He helped set the table which is way more than most of your boy-toys do.”
“He’s not my boy-toy,” Nemuri snorts, but she looks amused.
Hizashi blinks at her for a second, caught off guard. Their relationship must be more serious than he thought.
“I don’t care if you have him over more often, either,” Hizashi finally says, although honestly giving him more opportunities to drool over Aizawa is probably a bad idea.
“And the hotness scale?” Nemuri asks, and Hizashi can feel his cheeks flushing again.
“Pretty hot,” Hizashi answers, trying to be vague. “Clearly hot enough for you to associate yourself with, at least.”
“Oh, c’mon, I want a number,” Nemuri says, bumping him playfully with her hip.
“Alright, alright,” Hizashi replies, biting his lip and trying to think of an answer that won’t be too low or too high. “I’d say he’s an eight.”
“Only an eight?” Nemuri asks, arching an eyebrow at Hizashi. “I mean, he’s pretty scruffy, but did you get a look at his ass?”
Well. Hizashi can’t deny that Aizawa’s ass was… very well proportioned.
“Eight and a half,” Hizashi finally says, and Nemuri shoots him a smirk.
“There we go,” Nemuri replies, looking very pleased with herself. After a moment, though, her expression sobers a little. “Seriously, though, I want you to get along. You’re two of the most important people in my life.”
Hizashi’s already starting to feel like a bad friend.
---
It’s only another week before Hizashi sees Aizawa again.
He’s sprawled out on the couch with his laptop, messing around with the radio station’s official twitter, when he hears a knock on the door. For a moment, he hesitates, half-tempted to just ignore the knocking so he doesn’t have to leave the couch, but in the end he sighs and manages to pull himself away from his laptop.
However, upon opening the door, he finds himself half-wishing he’d just ignored it instead.
Aizawa looks disgustingly attractive, standing causally in the doorway, dressed in a white button down and slightly rumpled charcoal-grey slacks. His tie has come a little loose, revealing more of his throat than Hizashi is entirely comfortable with looking at, and his hair is tied up in a sloppy half-bun that looks way better than it logically should.
“Heeey, Aizawa,” Hizashi says, trying to keep his tone casual, although he’s not entirely sure he succeeds. “What are you doing here?”
“Nemuri and I are going out for drinks,” Aizawa answers simply. “She told me to meet her here.”
Honestly, Hizashi wishes that Nemuri would at least give him some warning before inviting Aizawa over. At this rate Aizawa’s going to think he’s some sort of slob, after only seeing him in his casual, stay-at-home-and-eat-shrimp-chips clothes.
(Which, alright, it’s not like Aizawa’s very put together himself. Apparently scruffy is his general state of being, and not just his post-sex, mildly hungover look. Still, Hizashi’s always prided himself on his looks and fashion choices, and so far all Aizawa’s seen him in are old sweatpants and t-shirts. It’s a bit of a blow to his ego.)
“Well, Nemuri’s not actually here right now,” Hizashi says, a little awkwardly. “It’s rush hour, though, so it might take her a while to get back. Do you, uh, wanna wait inside?”
“Thanks,” Aizawa replies as Hizashi lets him into the apartment.
“So,” Hizashi says as they make their way into the main living space. “What’s the shirt and tie getup for?”
“Parent teacher conferences,” Aizawa snorts, sitting down on the couch and reaching a hand up to tug his tie even looser than it already is. Hizashi has to consciously remind himself not to stare. “They’re why I’m drinking tonight.”
“That bad?” Hizashi asks, plopping himself down on the other side of the couch, a respectable distance away from Aizawa.
“I became a teacher to teach students,” Aizawa says, and apparently he’s had enough of the tie at this point, finally tugging it off entirely. “Not to pander to overbearing parents.”
Hizashi doesn’t really know what to say to that.
“What about you?” Aizawa asks, catching Hizashi off guard.
“Me?” Hizashi replies weakly, trying to maintain eye contact and not let his gaze stray to where Aizawa’s fingers are popping open the top button of his shirt.
“You have to take requests from listeners and producers and such, don’t you?” Aizawa clarifies. “Doesn’t that get annoying?”
“Oh, not really,” Hizashi answers, frowning a little in thought. “I’m just a people pleaser, I guess.”
“A people pleaser, huh?” Aizawa says, the corners of his lips twitching up into the barest hint of a smirk. “So that’s why Nemuri chose you as a roommate.”
“I didn’t mean it like that!” Hizashi sputters, his cheeks flushing pink. “Nemuri and I just – we’re not like that.”
“Hmm,” Aizawa says, studying Hizashi in a way that makes Hizashi want to fidget.
“And just because I like being liked doesn’t mean I’m a pushover,” Hizashi adds, crossing his arms over his chest a little defensively.
For a moment, Aizawa doesn’t say anything, just continuing to look at Hizashi with that intense, unnerving gaze of his. Then, he says, “Do you want to go out for drinks?”
“What?” Hizashi asks, blinking at Aizawa.
“When Nemuri gets back, do you want to get drinks with us?” Aizawa clarifies. “Nemuri promised to pay this time.”
Part of Hizashi is sorely tempted. After all, Nemuri’s been trying to get him to go drinking with her and Aizawa for weeks now, and now that it’s Aizawa asking, leaning towards him from the other side of the couch, dress shirt slightly unbuttoned and –
Hizashi swallows thickly and says, “Uh, maybe next time.”
The less time he spends around Aizawa, the better.
“You’re sure?” Aizawa asks, frowning slightly.
Briefly, an image of Aizawa leaning close to him in a dimly lit bar, cheeks a little flushed from too many beers, flashes through Hizashi’s mind.
“Yeah, I’ve got, uh,” Hizashi manages, “stuff for the radio show that I have to work on.”
“Next time, then,” Aizawa says.
“Sure,” Hizashi agrees, trying not to feel too bad about lying.
“We’ll probably be seeing each other a lot more from now on. We should get to know each other better,” Aizawa continues, looking at Hizashi in a way he can’t quite interpret. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say that there’s a certain heat to Aizawa’s gaze, but that can’t be right, not when Aizawa’s already dating Nemuri.
(Well, unless Aizawa’s interested in a threesome, but that’s really not something Hizashi should be thinking about right now. Or ever.)
However, before Hizashi can manage to come up with a reply to that, he hears the apartment door open and he has to resist the urge to let out an audible sigh of relief.
“Hey, Hizashi, do you wanna get drinks?” Nemuri calls from the front hallway. “Shōta’s coming over – ”
“He says he has work to do,” Aizawa calls back, and Nemuri’s head finally pops around the hall corner to take in Hizashi and Aizawa sitting on the living room couch. Hizashi tries to subtly move a little farther away from Aizawa and hopes that Nemuri doesn’t notice.
“Really? It’s Friday,” Nemuri says, frowning at Hizashi.
“I’m trying to get my main show switched from Thursday to Friday to up my listener count,” Hizashi replies. It’s not technically a lie, but, well, he’s already made his proposal and is waiting for approval, so it’s not like there’s really anything left for him to do at the moment.
“Alright, well next time you’re going out with us,” Nemuri orders.
“Yeah, yeah,” Hizashi says, waving her off. “Have fun, but don’t get arrested for public indecency again. I’m not bailing you out.”
Next to him on the couch, Aizawa lets out a little snort of laughter and Hizashi can’t help but feel strangely accomplished.
“You know what they say, you’re not living your life to the fullest unless you’ve gotten arrested for public indecency at least once,” Nemuri says, before turning to Aizawa and asking, “You ready?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who says that,” Hizashi replies as Aizawa drags himself up off the couch and starts heading towards the doorway.
(As he watches Aizawa leave, Hizashi can’t help but admit that Nemuri was right about him having a very well proportioned backside.)
“Mmm, it’ll catch on eventually,” Nemuri says loftily. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t while we’re out.”
“So I can watch hentai on your laptop?” Hizashi calls after her as she and Aizawa head out the door.
It’s not until the door closes behind the two of them with an audible click that Hizashi’s brain catches back up with his mouth, making his face flush bright pink. He really hopes that Aizawa doesn’t think he’s actually into hentai now.
---
Somehow Hizashi manages to go to bed early enough to avoid hearing Nemuri and Aizawa come home, and he also manages to sleep in late enough to avoid seeing Aizawa leave again in the morning.
Therefore, it’s not until Tuesday afternoon that Hizashi sees Aizawa again.
Somehow, seeing Aizawa this time is even more surprising than the last two times, mainly because it’s not at the apartment. There’s a small coffee shop a couple of blocks away from the radio station, and Hizashi sometimes stops by before he has to work the late shift. Hizashi had planned on just getting his coffee and then grabbing a table to review his notes at, but the coffee shop is remarkably packed for this time of the afternoon.
In fact, Hizashi’s about to give up and just find a corner of the station to work at when his eyes land on a familiar figure at a table towards the back of the building.
For a moment, Hizashi hesitates. After all, his plan was supposed to be to avoid Aizawa as much as possible, but at least this is a public place and he actually has work to do, instead of the two of them being alone in the apartment with nothing to keep Hizashi’s imagination from running wild.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Hizashi says as he stops next to Aizawa’s table, trying to force a nonchalant tone. “Mind if I sit with you?”
A look of mild surprise passes over Aizawa’s face when he finally glances up from his work to see Hizashi standing there. He nods, though, and says, “As long as you’re quiet.”
“Don’t worry! I have work to do too!” Hizashi chirps, patting his laptop bag. Aizawa shoots him a skeptical look, but he doesn’t stop Hizashi from sitting down, and Hizashi would feel mildly offended if he wasn’t self-aware enough to know that he has issues with volume control sometimes.
As Hizashi waits for his laptop to boot up, he almost starts tapping his fingers on the table, but he manages to catch himself. He peers over the edge of his laptop to see if Aizawa had noticed, but thankfully Aizawa seems engrossed in his own work, making marks on the stack of papers in front of him. Hizashi finds himself leaning forward a little more, watching Aizawa curiously and trying to figure out what he’s working on, but it’s a little difficult to read that papers upside down.
“I know I specifically told you to be quiet, but what I really meant was not distracting,” Aizawa drawls, making Hizashi freeze.
“Sorry,” Hizashi apologizes with an awkward little laugh. “My computer just takes a while to boot up so I figured I’d see what you’re working on.”
“Grading,” Aizawa grunts, not looking up from his papers.
“Do you normally do your grading here?” Hizashi asks, his lips turning down in a slight frown. If Aizawa is that concerned about distractions, then it seems a little odd for him to be working in such a busy coffee shop.
“No, but the school’s cultural festival is coming up and if I stay in the staff room for too long after hours people will think I have enough free time to be on some sort of organization committee,” Aizawa snorts, scrawling a short note on the bottom of a paper in red ink. “And my neighbor has recently taken up the piano, so I can’t get any work done at my apartment.”
“Oh,” Hizashi says, his lips turning down in a slight frown. An idea occurs to him, and for a moment he hesitates, but then he says, “You know, you could work at my apartment. Well, our apartment. I’m sure Nemuri wouldn’t mind.”
This offer actually makes Aizawa look up from his grading.
“You’re sure?” Aizawa asks, studying Hizashi in a way that makes him want to fidget in his seat. “I wouldn’t want to… impose.”
“Hey, you want peace and quiet, right?” Hizashi says, quirking an eyebrow at Aizawa. “I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of imposing.”
For a moment, Aizawa’s quiet, still studying Hizashi, but then he says, “Thanks.”
“Uh, yeah, anytime,” Hizashi replies, feeling the tips of his ears turn a little pink at Aizawa’s small expression of gratitude. “A friend of Nemuri’s is a friend of mine. Just call or text beforehand, I guess, to make sure one of us is there to let you in.”
This time, Aizawa actually replies with a small smile and Hizashi’s pretty sure his heart skips a beat. He quickly looks down at his laptop and hopes that his expression hadn’t revealed anything, because the last thing he needs is for Aizawa to think he’s some sort of creep trying to lure him back to his apartment.
Thankfully, Aizawa doesn’t make any further comments and Hizashi’s able to distract himself with work for a little while. Truthfully, he finds the bustle of the coffee shop a little soothing, and he’s never been very good at dealing with silence, so he digs his headphones out of his bag and plugs them into his laptop. Music’s always helped him focus.
In fact, Hizashi’s so absorbed in what he’s doing that he startles a little when he feels a hand touch his arm.
“Wha – ” he sputters, head jerking up to see Aizawa standing next to him. He tugs off his headphones and gives Aizawa a slightly sheepish smile, trying not to think about how Aizawa’s hand is still on his arm, palm warm against Hizashi’s skin. “What’s up?”
“Do you want more coffee?” Aizawa asks without preamble, taking his hand off of Hizashi’s arm.
“Oh, uh, sure,” Hizashi replies, blinking at Aizawa in surprise. “Here, just let me – ”
He reaches into his bag to grab his wallet, but before he can give it to Aizawa, Aizawa says, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay.”
“You don’t have to – ” Hizashi starts, but Aizawa’s already walking away from the table, Hizashi’s empty coffee mug in his hand.
Hizashi watches on awkwardly as Aizawa goes up to the register to order, but quickly looks back at his computer when Aizawa glances his way again, hoping that Aizawa didn’t notice him staring. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since an attractive guy bought him coffee, and Hizashi feels a bit of warmth in his chest at the gesture. Still, it’s a little disappointing that this clearly doesn’t have any romantic intentions behind it.
“Thanks,” Hizashi says when Aizawa gets back to the table, placing Hizashi’s now-full mug down next to him.
“Consider it payment for letting me work at your apartment,” Aizawa snorts, sitting back down in his own seat.
“You know I don’t expect anything from you for that,” Hizashi replies, his lips turning down in a slight frown. “Like I said, a friend – ”
“ – of Nemuri’s is a friend of mine,” Aizawa finishes for him, bringing his own coffee mug up to his lips and taking a sip. “Consider it a gesture of friendship, then.”
“Friendship,” Hizashi repeats, trying not to stare at the way Aizawa’s fingers wrap around his coffee mug. “Great.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to invite Aizawa over to the apartment.
---
It’s a Friday evening the first time Hizashi receives a text from Aizawa.
can i come over?
For a moment, Hizashi just blinks down at the message, confused, before he remembers the offer he’d made to Aizawa on Tuesday. He’s not quite quick enough to reply, though, before his phone buzzes with another text.
to do my grading
Hizashi can’t help but be a little amused by the abruptness of Aizawa’s texting style, and he sends back a message which says, sure! He hesitates for a moment before adding, why are you asking me tho?
It only takes Aizawa another brief second to reply, and Hizashi can’t help but wonder if he picked up his texting speed from Nemuri.
who else would i ask?
Hizashi can’t help but feel a little pleased that he was apparently the only person Aizawa had thought to ask about this as he types out, nemuri?
It takes Aizawa longer to reply this time, and Hizashi’s not sure if it’s because he’s busy, or if it’s because he’s trying to figure out how to answer.
she’s not the one who offered, Aizawa finally replies. Then he adds, and she always takes things the wrong way anyway.
For a moment, Hizashi frowns down at the text, wondering what Aizawa could mean about Nemuri “taking things the wrong way.” However, then he realizes that “can I come over” in Nemuri-speak probably translates to “can I come over because I’m really horny and wanna fuck” instead of “can I come over to do my grading in peace.”
ahhh gotcha, Hizashi texts back, trying not to think about Aizawa flushed and naked (and in Nemuri’s bed). i’m home right now, so you can come over whenever.
A moment later, Hizashi’s phone buzzes with another text, which consists of a simple, thanks. He finds himself smiling down at his phone for a moment, before it occurs to him that, once again, he’s just wearing an old t-shirt and worn sweatpants. Briefly, he hesitates, wondering if it’ll make him look too desperate if he actually goes to change – after all, Aizawa’s off limits anyway – but in the end he gives into his vanity. It’s not like Aizawa will be able to tell, anyway.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop, picking through YouTube in search of new music, when he finally hears a knock on the door. He braces himself and runs a hand through his hair, trying to straighten it out a little, before going to answer it, hoping that his expression doesn’t betray the way his heart is pounding in his chest.
“Hey, come on in!” Hizashi chirps, shooting Aizawa a smile.
“Thanks for letting me work here,” Aizawa replies as he makes his way through the door and into the apartment.
“Yeah, sure, anytime,” Hizashi says, closing the door behind Aizawa. “Nemuri’s not here right now, though, and I’m not sure when she’s going to get off work today. She said she probably wouldn’t be back until around eight.”
“That late?” Aizawa asks, his lips turning down in a slight frown.
“Yeah, she just took on a new client and apparently their financials are a mess,” Hizashi answers, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his chest as he’s reminded that Aizawa was probably hoping to see Nemuri for at least a little while tonight, and didn’t come here for – well, for him. “The owner has deep pockets, though, and Nemuri’s hoping he’ll be a good connection for when she finally opens her own club instead of just working out the financials for everyone else.”
“Mmm,” Aizawa says, putting his bag down next to the kitchen table and pulling a stack of papers out of it. “That’s how we met, you know.”
“What?” Hizashi asks, blinking at Aizawa in confusion.
“She tutored me in statistics,” Aizawa clarifies, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “And when we became friends, she insisted on dragging me out to all the clubs in the area for ‘research’ purposes.”
Briefly, Hizashi finds himself wondering what kind of roleplay came with that sort of relationship, but he quickly pushes those thoughts from his mind, his cheeks flushing. Nemuri might be a flirt, but she probably made Aizawa pay for tutoring in actual cash and not sexual favors.
Probably.
“What about you?” Aizawa asks, as Hizashi reclaims his own seat, across the table.
“What about me?” Hizashi replies, blinking at Aizawa.
“How did you meet Nemuri?” Aizawa clarifies, propping up his elbow on the table and leaning his cheek against his hand, studying Hizashi carefully.
“Oh, I just, uh, replied to her advertisement looking for a roommate,” Hizashi answers, shrugging. “The only requirements were ‘able to pay your share of the rent on time’ and ‘capable of sleeping through loud noises.’ I used to live behind a nightclub so the noise thing was no biggie.”
“So you’re able to sleep through Nemuri’s sex marathons?” Aizawa asks, the corners of his lips twitching up into the barest hint of a smirk.
“Haven’t heard a peep,” Hizashi replies. He pauses for a moment. “Well, not while I’m sleeping, at least.”
The expression on Aizawa’s face is distinctly amused and Hizashi can’t help but feel a little pleased at having put that look on Aizawa’s face, even if it was just through lame jokes about Nemuri’s sex life.
“Well it’s a good thing she’s not here right now, so I can actually focus on my work,” Aizawa says, reaching back down to fish a red pen out of his bag and then shuffling around his stack of papers to find the right one to start with.
“Yeah,” Hizashi echoes. “Good thing.”
For a moment, he hopes that Nemuri has to work even later than expected, and then feels like a horrible person.
---
The two of them work in relative silence at the kitchen table for the next couple of hours, Aizawa doing his grading while Hizashi messes around with his playlists. He’s been trying to create something a little less… pop-y that still fits with their station’s overall sound, with mixed success. He’s just tugged off his headphones and is about to give up for the night when he hears a distinctive rumbling sound.
“Was that your stomach?” Hizashi asks, staring across the table at Aizawa. “You should have told me you were hungry!”
“It’s fine,” Aizawa replies, waving off Hizashi’s concerns. “I was just about to – ”
“Hey, do you wanna order pizza?” Hizashi interrupts, making Aizawa blink at him in surprise. “My treat.”
For a moment, Aizawa hesitates, but then he says, “You’ve been treating me a lot lately.”
“What do you mean by that?” Hizashi sputters, his cheeks turning a little pink.
“You cooked me breakfast the first time we met and you’ve been generous enough to let me come over to do my grading,” Aizawa replies, peering over the table at Hizashi with an expression that Hizashi can’t quite interpret.
“Well, you bought me coffee,” Hizashi protests, hoping that his face hasn’t turned too red.
“Let me pay for the pizza,” Aizawa says.
Part of Hizashi wants to protest – Aizawa’s technically a guest, after all – but judging by the glint in his eyes, Aizawa has a stubborn streak to rival Nemuri’s. So he sighs and says, “Alright. But next time I’m buying.”
“You’re already planning a next time?” Aizawa asks, arching an eyebrow at Hizashi.
“I mean, I did say you could come over to do your grading anytime,” Hizashi answers, partially for Aizawa but also to remind himself that this is in no way, shape, or form a date. He and his roommate’s boyfriend are just hanging out. Like bros. Or whatever.
Aizawa replies with a noncommittal noise, but then asks, “What toppings do you like?”
By the time the pizza finally arrives, Aizawa’s finished up the last of his grading and is in the process of making tea for the two of them. Honestly, Hizashi’s not entirely sure tea and pizza go well together, but it hadn’t seemed wise to argue with Aizawa on the subject after he’d spent a good ten minutes sifting through Hizashi’s meager tea collection with mild disdain.
Of course, it’s not until Hizashi’s pulling two plates out of the cupboard that he realizes that he’s either going to have to make non-self-incriminating small talk with Aizawa while they eat, or he’s going to have to find some other distraction that’ll last at least a half hour.
“Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?” Hizashi asks, after setting the plates down on the kitchen table.
“A movie?” Aizawa repeats, blinking at Hizashi slowly.
“Yeah, I mean, considering we’re both done with our work and all,” Hizashi explains, a little awkwardly. “It’ll give us something to do until Nemuri gets back, at least.”
For a moment, Aizawa’s quiet and Hizashi thinks he’s going to refuse, but finally he says, “Alright. What movie?”
“Uh, well, we have Netflix,” Hizashi replies, picking up the plates and pizza box and taking them over into the living room, Aizawa trailing after him with their tea. “As for good, old DVDs, we have The Ring, Pacific Rim – ”
“I think Nemuri’s mentioned Pacific Rim before,” Aizawa interrupts, placing the mugs of tea on the coffee table and sitting down on the couch.
“Wait, you haven’t seen it?” Hizashi asks, stopping in his tracks to stare at Aizawa.
“I haven’t,” Aizawa answers, looking at Hizashi a little warily.
“Well, I know what we’re watching now,” Hizashi announces, grabbing the DVD case off the shelf. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”
Aizawa looks more than a little skeptical, but he doesn’t actually protest, just watching as Hizashi sets everything up. It takes Hizashi a few moments of fiddling with the remote for the opening scene to finally start rolling. For a moment, Hizashi considers turning off the lights to give the living room more of a movie theater ambience, but in the end he decides against it, just plopping himself back down on the couch, a respectable distance away from Aizawa. The last thing he wants is to drop pizza all over himself in the dark.
With that, Hizashi grabs a slice of pepperoni pizza out of the box and settles in to watch.
Of course, it’s not until a few minutes into the movie that Hizashi realizes it would probably have been better to turn the lights off. He’s always had a habit of checking people’s reactions when showing them a movie he’s already seen, and it doesn’t take long before his eyes stray to Aizawa, who’s watching with a sort of detached interest.
As soon as Hizashi realizes that he’s staring, he quickly looks back at the TV screen, taking a large bite out of his pizza to distract himself. He is not going to spend the entire night gazing at Aizawa like some sort of creeper.
Hopefully.
“A wall? Really?” Aizawa snorts, breaking Hizashi from his thoughts.
“I know, right?” Hizashi replies, swallowing his mouthful of pizza hastily. “Like, do they have no sense of problem solving?”
“It’s like trying to fix a three inch knife wound with a band-aid,” Aizawa says, eyes still fixed on the TV screen.
“That’s weirdly specific,” Hizashi laughs. However, as he looks away from the movie, back over at Aizawa, he almost chokes on his pizza as he sees Aizawa tug up the edge of his shirt, revealing the bare skin of his stomach.
“Nemuri doesn’t have the best reasoning skills when she’s drunk,” Aizawa snorts, and it’s then that Hizashi notices a long scar running from Aizawa’s hip down under the waistband of his pants. “I also don’t have the best cooking skills.”
“Are you sure I should have let you make tea earlier?” Hizashi says, unconsciously leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the scar.
“As far as I’m aware, making tea doesn’t involve knives,” Aizawa replies, his tone dry, but the corners of his lips twitch up in a small, amused smile. “Also, I’m not drunk.”
“We could fix that if you want,” Hizashi offers, without really thinking about it.
“Mm,” Aizawa says, looking at Hizashi with dark eyes. “Maybe you can go out for drinks with me some other time instead.”
“Sure,” Hizashi replies, trying not to let his voice come out in an awkward croak, his mouth suddenly far too dry. There’s clearly nothing but platonic intentions behind Aizawa’s offer, can’t be anything but platonic intentions, but that doesn’t stop his heart from racing.
He swallows thickly and fixes his eyes back on the TV screen.
They’re about three quarters of the way through the movie when Hizashi hears the familiar sound of a key in the apartment door, not entirely obscured by the noise of the movie. Then he hears Nemuri calls out, “Is that pizza I’m smelling? You better have saved me some.”
A moment later, Nemuri emerges from the hall, pausing for a moment to blink at Hizashi and Aizawa, sitting on the couch with a mostly eaten pizza on the coffee table in front of them.
“I didn’t realize you were coming over, Shōta,” Nemuri says as she slowly takes in the scene.
“Yamada offered to let me do my grading here,” Aizawa answers.
“Did he now?” Nemuri replies, her gaze shifting to Hizashi, who is suddenly far too aware of the lack of space in between him and Aizawa on the couch. He must have moved closer to get to the pizza box, or maybe to see better when Aizawa showed off his scar.
Before Hizashi can try to explain himself, though, Nemuri’s her eyes land on the TV and she exclaims, “Wait, is that Pacific Rim? I can’t believe you’d watch without me! Move over.”
Hizashi starts to make more space in between him and Aizawa, but instead Nemuri squeezes herself in between Aizawa and the end of the couch, shoving Hizashi and Aizawa together in the process.
“I don’t think this couch was meant for three people,” Hizashi says with a slightly awkward little laugh, trying not to think about Aizawa’s side pressed up against his.
“If you want to buy us a bigger one, be my guest,” Nemuri replies, shooting Hizashi a smirk. “I’d love more surface space to bend people over.”
“I can’t believe you’d make me hear that with my own two ears,” Hizashi groans. Briefly, a mental image of Aizawa spread out over the couch flashes through his mind, but he quickly banishes it. “Just for that, you’re going to be stuck with this couch forever.”
“Please, I’m sure you’ve heard worse from me,” Nemuri snorts, grabbing a piece of pizza out of the box on the coffee table. “Like last month, when – ”
“Did you two actually want me to see this movie or not?” Aizawa asks dryly, cutting Nemuri off.
“Alright, alright,” Nemuri replies, before finally falling silent.
In the end, Hizashi doesn’t pay much attention to the rest of the movie, too distracted by the feeling of Aizawa’s side pressed up against his, hyperaware of every point of contact. His thoughts aren’t even particularly sexual, instead focusing on the cadence of Aizawa’s breathing and the frankly absurd amount of body heat he seems to generate.
Hizashi’s remarkably silent for the remainder of the movie. Nemuri makes occasional comments and Aizawa responds with his dry sense of humor, but neither of them seem to notice anything unusual about Hizashi’s own lack of quips, or if they do, they don’t comment on it.
Finally, though, the movie comes to an end.
“I should get home now,” Aizawa says, standing up from the couch and stretching.
(This time, instead of ogling Aizawa’s abs, Hizashi finds his eyes fixed on the scar running down from Aizawa’s hip.)
“Past your bedtime already?” Nemuri teases, and Aizawa shoots her a mild glare. There’s no real heat behind it, though, and Nemuri counters with a playful smirk.
“I have a cat to feed,” Aizawa replies, surprising Hizashi a little. Somehow, Aizawa hadn’t struck him as a cat person, but now that he thinks about it more, he doesn’t know why. Quiet and aloof seems to fit him pretty well.
“So you’re saying you love your cat more than me?” Nemuri asks, pouting playfully.
“Yes,” Aizawa answers without hesitation.
Nemuri laughs, but gets up from the couch and leans in to plant a light kiss on Aizawa’s cheek, before saying in a softer tone, “Get home safely.”
“Goodnight, Nemuri,” Aizawa replies, giving Nemuri an indulgent look. Hizashi can’t help but feel like he’s intruding.
Before Hizashi can delicately excuse himself, though, Nemuri grabs the plates and the pizza box and heads back into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone in the living room again.
For a moment, awkward silence descends on them, but finally Hizashi manages, “Well, it was nice having you over, Aizawa – ”
“Shōta,” Aizawa interrupts, catching Hizashi off guard.
“What?” Hizashi asks, blinking at Aizawa, lost.
“You can call me Shōta,” Aizawa clarifies, looking at Hizashi with that intense gaze of his again.
“Oh,” Hizashi says, caught off guard. “Well, then call me Hizashi, I guess.”
“Thank you for letting me do my grading here,” Aizawa replies. He pauses for a moment and then adds, “Hizashi.”
Hizashi isn’t entirely sure if hearing Aizawa say his given name sounds strange or good. Maybe both.
“Well, thanks for paying for the pizza,” Hizashi says, not quite able to make eye contact with Aizawa. “And, uh, it was nice having you around. I guess I’ll see you next time you need a place to do your grading, then?”
“Next time,” Aizawa agrees, still looking at Hizashi in a way that makes him want to fidget. “Goodnight, Hizashi.”
“’night, Ai – Shōta,” Hizashi manages.
As he watches Shōta leave, he decides that he kind of likes the feel of that name on his tongue.
---
So. Hizashi may have a crush.
That is, he might have actual romantic feelings for Aizawa Shōta, and not just sexual ones. He likes Shōta’s dry sense of humor, likes hearing stories of his misadventures with Nemuri, likes the soft smiles he graces Hizashi with once every blue moon. If Shōta were anyone else, Hizashi would have asked him out for dinner already.
But Shōta is Nemuri’s boyfriend.
Hizashi’s trying to be good about keeping an appropriate distance between him and Shōta but it’s hard sometimes, especially when Shōta comes over to do his grading when Nemuri’s out of the apartment. Usually Shōta stays long enough for dinner and a movie after he’s finished with his work, and half the time Hizashi forgets to pay attention to the movie, too busy watching Shōta’s reactions and laughing at his dry quips.
So yeah, he’s got it bad. And the worst part is that sometimes Hizashi can almost trick himself into thinking that Shōta reciprocates.
It’s just little things that Shōta does, leaning in too close when they talk, or offering to pay for food or drinks. They’re all just friendly gestures, but sometimes Hizashi catches a glint in Shōta’s eyes that he can’t quite interpret, which he has to force himself not to read too far into.
He really hopes he gets over this little infatuation soon.
Sunday morning, Hizashi wakes up with an urge to cook. There are the right ingredients for pancakes, but Hizashi can’t decide if he wants blueberry or chocolate chip (blueberry-chocolate chip?), so he drags himself out of bed and makes his way over to Nemuri’s room to get her opinion.
The door to Nemuri’s room is cracked slightly, so Hizashi doesn’t hesitate to push it fully open, but as he takes in the scene in front of him, he’s reminded of why it’s always a good idea to knock before entering Nemuri’s room (or any private room with Nemuri in it, for that matter).
Thankfully both Nemuri and her bedmate are sound asleep, so there’s nothing terribly incriminating going on, but.
But Nemuri’s bedmate is very naked. And from what Hizashi can see, she also has considerably more cleavage than Shōta, and considerably less ass.
Carefully, Hizashi backs out of the room and closes the door with a soft click. For a moment, he just stands there in the hallway, trying to process what he just saw. He hadn’t thought that Nemuri would be the type to cheat, especially with how fond of Shōta she seems, but then again, Hizashi’s never known Nemuri to be exclusive with anyone before, either.
Maybe they have some sort of open relationship? It certainly wouldn’t be out of the question for Nemuri. Still, there’s a tight feeling in Hizashi’s chest at the thought of just letting this go without even trying to tell Shōta.
He doesn’t even have to outright accuse Nemuri of anything. Maybe he can just do his best to subtly ask if Shōta and Nemuri have an open relationship.
(And hey, if the answer is yes, then maybe he can – no, he shouldn’t get ahead of himself.)
With that, Hizashi goes back to his own room to retrieve his phone and texts Shōta a simple, can we get coffee together?
It only takes Shōta about ten minutes to reply, much to Hizashi’s relief. The less time he has to spend in the apartment with Nemuri and her new… bedmate, the better.
what, right now?
Hizashi bites his lip as he tries to figure out what to say. He supposes he is asking kind of out of the blue, and Shōta probably has better things to do with his Sunday, but he’d prefer to deal with this sooner rather than later.
if you’re free, he finally replies. any time that’s good for you.
It takes another couple of minutes for Shōta to text back, but when he finally does, it’s with a simple, alright. where?
Which is how Hizashi finds himself waiting in the doorway of the small café near the radio station, where he had found Shōta trying to do his grading a few weeks ago. As he waits for Shōta, he tries to compose what he’s going to say, but everything he comes up with sounds either too blunt or too suggestive.
Finally, though, Shōta arrives, effectively cutting off Hizashi’s anxious brainstorming.
“Hey,” Shōta says as he comes up to Hizashi, giving Hizashi one of his rare, soft smiles. Hizashi feels his heartrate speed up a little and has to remind himself that he’s not here to flirt with Shōta, but it’s a little difficult as he notices that Shōta’s actually dressed a little more nicely than usual, wearing a cream colored sweater and a maroon scarf instead of his usual back-on-black color scheme. He almost looks like he put a bit of effort into his appearance, and Hizashi sincerely hopes that he doesn’t have a date with Nemuri planned for tonight.
“Hey,” Hizashi finally manages, forcing a smile of his own. “What do you want to drink? I can order for us while you find a table. My treat.”
“Your treat?” Shōta asks, arching an eyebrow at Hizashi.
“If you’re okay with that,” Hizashi says, trying not to fidget under Shōta’s gaze.
For a moment, Shōta hesitates, but then he says, “Get me a latte.”
“One latte, coming right up,” Hizashi replies, shooting Shōta a more genuine smile this time, before heading up to the counter.
Ordering and then waiting for the drinks gives Hizashi a little more time to think over what he’s going to say to Shōta, but by the time he starts heading over to the small corner table that Shōta’s picked out, he still doesn’t quite know how to phrase things.
“Here you go,” Hizashi says, carefully setting down one of the mugs in front of Shōta.
“Thanks,” Shōta replies, picking up the latte and taking a sip, a bit of foam clinging to his lips. Hizashi’s suddenly glad that Shōta hadn’t ordered anything with whipped cream.
“So, uh,” Hizashi says, curling his hands around his mug and tapping at the ceramic nervously. “You and Nemuri.”
“What about me and Nemuri?” Shōta asks, propping up his elbow on the table and leaning his cheek against his palm.
“Are you – ” Hizashi starts, but then stops again. “Do you – can you… see other people?”
“What do you mean by that?” Shōta replies, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.
“I mean,” Hizashi says, taking a deep breath, “are you in an open relationship?”
For a moment, Shōta just stares at him, looking utterly confused. Then he says, “No. Nemuri and I aren’t – ”
“She cheated on you,” Hizashi blurts out, all of the delicate phrasing he’d been trying to construct flying out of his head. “I’m so sorry, I just – ”
“What are you talking about?” Shōta asks, looking even more lost in the conversation than before.
“I’m saying that Nemuri brought home someone else last night,” Hizashi explains, and part of him feels guilty about ratting Nemuri out like this, but Shōta’s sort of his friend too now. “I don’t know how long – ”
“Nemuri and I aren’t together,” Shōta interrupts.
For a moment, Hizashi just stares at him.
“You what?” Hizashi asks, half sure he heard wrong.
“Nemuri and I aren’t in a relationship,” Shōta repeats, more slowly this time.
“You aren’t,” Hizashi says, still staring.
“We’re friends,” Shōta replies, looking at Hizashi a little more cautiously. “We’ve never been involved romantically or sexually.”
“But you – ” Hizashi flounders, feeling like someone’s just pulled the floor out from under him. “The first time I met you – ”
“I went out drinking with Nemuri and was too inebriated to get myself home safely,” Shōta interrupts, and Hizashi can see his expression start to close off. “We didn’t… do anything together.”
“Oh,” Hizashi says, unable to keep the awkwardness from his tone.
“If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I should get going,” Shōta mutters, standing up from the table abruptly. His latte mug is still mostly full in front of him. “I have errands to run and – ”
As Shōta starts to turn away from the table, it occurs to Hizashi that he’d asked Shōta to meet him for coffee, and Shōta had actually dressed up a little for the occasion.
“Wait!” Hizashi blurts out, reaching his hand out to grasp Shōta’s wrist, trying to keep him from leaving. “If you’re not with Nemuri, then are you – ” Hizashi swallows thickly. “ – are you single?”
“Does it matter?” Shōta asks, an expression on his face that Hizashi can’t quite interpret.
“Well,” Hizashi says slowly, his heart beating fast in his chest, “I’ve been feeling kind of terrible for the past few weeks because I had a bit of a thing for my roommate’s boyfriend.”
For a moment, Shōta’s quiet, but then he says, “Had?”
“Have, I guess,” Hizashi corrects himself. “Except, you know, apparently he’s not actually my roommate’s boyfriend.”
“What would this be if you’d known I wasn’t dating Nemuri?” Shōta asks, nodding towards the coffee cups on the table. “This… coffee meeting.”
“A date,” Hizashi answers automatically. Then he tacks on, “If you wanted it to be.”
“I would want that,” Shōta says softly.
Hizashi can’t quite keep a grin from spreading across his face.
---
(“Damn, Hizashi, can you and Shōta keep it down a little?” Nemuri complains over breakfast, rubbing at her temples. “I’m happy for you, but I need my beauty sleep.”
“When you put out that advertisement for a roommate, you only specified that I needed to be able to sleep through your sex marathons,” Hizashi replies, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Not the other way around.”
“At least I don’t sound like a strangled bird during sex,” Nemuri whines, her expression dangerously close to a pout.
“I do not!” Hizashi sputters, his face turning pink.
“If you and Shōta aren’t quieter, I’m going to start cranking up the volume on some hentai to drown you out,” Nemuri huffs, stabbing at a piece of pancake a little more viciously that is probably necessary. “And I’m using your laptop.”
“Fine, fine,” Hizashi replies. “As long as you take back what you said about me sounding like a strangled bird.”
Nemuri opens her mouth to reply with something that is most likely not an apology, but before she can actually get the words out, Shōta says, “You sound a little bit like a bird.”
Hizashi lets out a betrayed squawk and Nemuri almost falls out of her chair because she’s laughing so hard.
“I hate you,” Hizashi mutters, shooting Shōta a glare across he breakfast table.
The corners of Shōta’s lips turn up in the barest hint of an amused smile, and Hizashi decides that maybe he loves him too.)