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"Shouta," Izuku breathed as he fisted the synthetic-organic weave of gray dove-silk on the dark figure, green of sage and stone locking onto the nictitating honey of his ex's lit eyes. The Yamihisui sighed, honey settling down into a charcoal gray that he knew so well--
"Izuku. Beloved," He purred, their foreheads knocking together in that gentle, careful way that merged their respective kinds' form of "kiss"; "I can't stay." Izuku inhaled sharply, familiar tears bubbling up in the Kirin's eyes; "Why, heartstone? Yahiko and Botan miss-"
Shouta shook his head, whiskers brushing against Izuku's skin, familiar, so familiar that it made Izuku's heart pang sharply with a heartfelt ache. "It isn't safe yet. I'll be back, someday...."
Izuku's expression grew wilder, hauntingly desperate as he clung to Shouta's vest; "When, heartstone? Come home, Shouta, it's been..."
"...Too long. I know, beloved, but this isn't over. They aren't gone...."
The Kirin's tears finally spilled down his cherubic cheeks, forest curls flying around Izuku's face, framing him as he held on... "Don't leave. Don't leave yet, love, let me have this: let me have you for this hour, for this minute, for this second. Be here. Let me have you...."
The pantherine man tenderly stroked Izuku's jawline with the back of a claw,, dislodging a strand and so, so longing. Yearning. It had been years too many, and Izuku could barely remember the blossom of hope when he had first left Polychrome, still young and optimistic enough to believe they could leave. Now he was older, more tired, but he hadn't lost that spark that had carried him so well as a Polychrome Agent. They had even met for the first time in this very art gallery.
Izuku, a bright-eyed but keen newcomer into the underworld scene building his portfolio hired to steal Mercurius at Sea, a six million dollar painting and Shouta, an old hand stationed to guard the very painting Izuku was sent to steal. Ultimately, it was in fact a plot by the Hasukyoi Order, a rogue faction whose goal was to chip away at the reputations at both of their Agencies; Izuku had barely stood in front of Mercurius before a half dozen Hasukyoi burst into the room and attempted to take both of them down. Izuku had no doubt that the instant synergy that clicked between Shouta and himself had lent itself to Shouta giving him high praise, something Izuku discovered was extremely uncommon for the old hand in the afterwake of this event, which had helped build Izuku's personal reputation, as the Spire; Izuku's Smoke Breath lent itself very well to Shouta's terrifying visage as the gold-eyed Ceaseless. Shouta's own reputation was built on the rather un-feline persistent hunting method he used to track down his prey,, and likewise the Yamihisui's fighting style was surprisingly brutal and forward for anyone who saw his feline features and assumed that he would be more like an ambush predator.... No, the Yamihisui were entirely unlike the creatures their features drew from, and they hunted like hounds. Izuku privately thought that people should have known, but it was to both of their advantages....
They had partnered well, and sought each other out, Izuku for shadowing someone so successful and still hale, as hale as people in their business were; Shouta... He hadn't known what Shouta had wanted,, until six months later into their courtship Shouta had confessed he found Izuku... refreshing, someone, something sharp and lovely and bright that he wanted to bask in the light of like the big cat the older man claimed he wasn't. (Izuku still sometimes forgot and bought lactose-free milk to serve cool in the mornings; no matter what his big fuzzy ex-husband said he enjoyed all the same joys and pleasures of his mundane counterparts. Sometimes he'd set four plates instead of three and have to blink away tears before they could spill down his cheeks, taking the plate away...) Shouta was gone, their marriage torn apart in a lie to make sure Shouta Aizawa didn't have any ties to be hunted down and used as leverage. Izuku hated how their marriage, their precious bond was a weakness for Shouta, that it wasn't so safe to simply exist as lawfully wedded spouses...
Now Shouta was pressing their heads together, a rusty purr building deep in the Yamihisui as he hugged his ex close. "Wait for me," he whispered low, inhaling a new soft, sage-and-tealeaf scent that rose from Izuku's skin; a different soap, most likely. "I'll be back. I'll come back as soon as I can, alright beloved?"
"Don't speak, heartstone," Izuku choked out, burying his face in Shouta's soft, lean shoulder. The musk of fur and Shouta's favored pine soap ticked his nose; his solid embrace was so achingly familiar, he didn't want him to go, he didn't want this moment quiet and warm to break.
Shouta's gentle hands traced Izuku's sides, hands coming to rest on the Kirin's hips; Izuku shivered, a sudden new wave of melancholic craving for his husband's touch washing over the Kirin. In the dark, where they could keep their hearts... He buried himself in the faintest squeeze of Shouta's embrace, a tickle of claws carding through his tousled forest-green locks.
They stayed together for an immeasurable amount of time. It was not enough, not nearly enough, like water seeping through fingers or sand through a sieve. Izuku rested his head against Shouta's shoulder, horn delicately pressed cool against his cheek and already warming from their proximity. It was bare of the ring that Izuku and Shouta had picked together, mother-of-pearl inlaid platinum and bone, delicately carved and etched for every millimeter in Kirin tradition; a warm buttery amber intertwined that ran a river through gamboling cats and careful delicate etchings. He shivered as a careful, familiar claw traced the gentle curve in a spiral down... Izuku felt his cheeks warm as a rush of heat flowed down the Kirin's horn. Shouta's own bond-mark was hidden under careful nanite manipulation, from Izuku's old friend Rumi's hacking rig. It was... jarring to see Shouta's eyes no longer mismatched, lacking the dark curled form of a sleeping kirin covering his left iris; he was as clear-gazed as when they first met. He looked more worn, fur cropped short rather than the luxurious fluff that Shouta has started to grow towards when they had thought they were both getting out. He was thinner, but the faint glint in his eyes spoke to his health. Good. Izuku had been worried...
Outside this supply closet there was the muffled sound of fighting, Izuku hugging Shouta close as they both desperately soaked in, basked in these quiet minutes. It was getting louder. Soon, they had to let go. Izuku didn't want to.... He opened his mouth,, only to hush silent when Shouta placed a claw delicately on his parted lips. "Don't tell me about them. Not yet." Izuku's eyes grew more determined, but he nodded in acceptance. He understood. If Shouta heard about their kids, he would be weaker in his fight against the urge to come home... Yahiko was learning well defiant of the negativity surrounding his Paralyzing Glare. Botan had just gained her own personal ability and Shouta did not know yet... Izuku's home had never been more overgrown.
"I have to go." Shouta broke the quiet at last, voice careful and laden with regret. Prehnite eyes drank in Shouta's charcoal and smoke form, the fur harsh as ink but still so soft, he knew, if Izuku would just reach out and stroke it in the right way. Gunsteel gradually lit up warmer, until the Ceaseless' honey gaze grew bright and cold as he stared down the partner he held through life and battle and work. Izuku didn't nod, but his own eyes carefully tucked away all of his care until he was just a civilian staring wide-eyed and nervous at someone from a world he had never seen, never knew.
Shouta stepped back, rolling his shoulders, posture shifting until he was in a natural predatory prowl, flexing his claws... "Don't move. Don't leave." He growled a command to the civilian that had caught his eye, no more than an innocent in the faction battling that raged outside this closet. They didn't know each other. The Ceaseless merely had wanted to spare this man on a whim.... Which, perhaps, could have been written off as . Izuku didn't move, didn't blink as the assassin stepped away. His breath trembled. Wide eyes watched the back of the Yamihisui as he stepped out into the world outside of this barely safe space...
Izuku didn't know when he would see Shouta again. He didn't even know if he would- But he steeled his heart, as Shouta's back grew more indistinct as he plunged back into the smoke that Izuku had breathed out. One day, he had to hope. One day he'd open the door and Shouta would be there, and smile, and tell him that he was coming home...