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With a thump, the thief's body crashed into the counter, glass creaking precariously underneath the added weight. Silver lashed out, fast as a whip, and pulled him from the display case into a constricting squeeze just in time for the blue glass to give out and shattered. Microscopic shards erupted into the air, floating for a second like glitter confetti or dust molecules before dropping to the floor. It rained down, covering carpet and jewellery in a fine mist of razor-sharp snow.
In the brief moment of pause that Eraserhead had before the police sirens came blaring into auditory range, he thought that Izuku would likely try to lick the pulverised glass, much like how he made candy floss with some exposed insulation. That thought was enough to put such an expression on his face that the thief began to cry, pale and shaky with tears rolling down pallid cheeks.
Later, as he spoke to the shop owner, who had arrived soon after the police, whilst overseeing the criminal being escorted out in handcuffs, a ring in the now bare cabinet caught his attention.
A deep familiar green, slightly tarnished gold band with carvings worn down to an indistinguishable degree. Deja vu hit like truck-kun, thick and paralysing.
Of course, the jeweler noticed, and practically fused the ring into the calloused on his fingers with the strength she pressed it into them.
"Please, please accept. I can never do enough to properly thank you. You saved me from going bankrupt!" she pleaded, bowing her head.
Even after Eraserhead tried to comfort the woman, assure her he was simply doing his diligence as a hero, somehow when he finally left the scene, the ring had made its way into his pocket.
Arriving home after a long shift was a spiritual experience; the honoured shedding of his hero costume and showering off the pungent odours of stricken desperation and acute relief was a soothing balm to a busy day. No longer Eraserhead, bear of responsibility and perilous power. He was Shouta only. It was all made even better when he pattered out into the living room and found Hizashi sitting on the sofa with his tongue stuck cutely out the corner of his mouth, having a go at picking up an empty plant pot. Metal, not ceramic, after the mess made days prior.
"Hey," Shouta grunted, plopping down next to him on the sofa, melting into the softness of the cushions. The contented sigh that left his mouth was enough for Hizashi to drop the plant pot onto the coffee table with a thud and a dusting of pink to grace cut cheekbones.
A croon of "Sweetheart, baby!" was all the response. They swapped saliva for a while, slow and carefree, cold hand on Shouta's waist pulling him upward into lean ectoplasm.
Before it got too far, a cool finger slithering underneath his baggy pajama shirt and tracing his ribcage with a leisurely caress, Shouta pulled far enough away to speak into the air between them, "Where are the kids?"
"Yoga. Zuku dared Toshi that he couldn't beat his frog stand record, you know how those two are. We have a while."
A while later, Shouta was pulling his clothes back on, being leered at from his partner on the bed, when he felt something hard in the pocket of his sweats.
Pausing, he turned, biting his lip slightly but stopping short as it twinged in response. "I have something for you, sweetheart. Do you want it now?"
As if Hizashi couldn't look more pleased, somehow he did, rivalling the sun that apparently shone out of Shouta's arse.
"Obviously. But you have to ask me to be your valentine first."
Crap. Right, that holiday.
"Soppy romantic, fine. If it'll make you happy," advancing to the bed, he perched lightly on the ruffled cover, and produced the ring. "Be my valentine, Yamada Hizashi?"
The look on Hizashi's face was not what he expected. Instead of jubilation, it was as if the world had disappeared behind the roaring of blood in his ears. Spectral jaw opened and shut, no words coming out, flapping fruitlessly. Upon moving the ring away to lean closer, to check on his loved one, it was snatched, cradled in translucent hands as if something precious.
"This is my ring," Hizashi whispered weakly, scarcely moving. The nod Shouta gave in return only seemed to worsen whatever emotional reaction was happening. "No, you don't understand. This is my ring. This… was my ring. A long time ago."
Understanding dawned on Shouta.
Morning sunlight seemed to create a halo around Hizashi's golden hair, each strand dancing as though underwater. More than any other moment, he looked stunning. Colour warmed his skin that Shouta had never noticed before, a radiant red flush on his cheeks, depth to the hazel of his eyes, an alluring grace to how his muscles bunched underneath smooth skin. Even the duvet fell oddly on him, dipping between his knees with deeper shadows.
Time was an illusion. Periods of time melded and separated like a lava lamp, fluid and bubbly. Barriers between present day and the past thinned to almost nothing, bulging into each other as they floated past.
It was Shouta's turn for his mouth to flap uselessly, mouth leaden and heavy in its idleness.
"You're here," he croaked. Hizashi looked up, opaque and interacting with multiple objects at once.
"Of course I am. How do you mean?" he tilted his head, hair responding as it sailed downward, curling to wrap around his arm and shoulders.
A trembling hand reached forward, weighed down by the revelations, and found lukewarm skin, textured and hairy and ever so soft.
"You're here." An echo of before, a repeat from a dumb brain that absorbed all the visual information it could like a sponge. He felt the crinkles of skin as Hizashi frowned, befuddled and a bit annoyed, before reaching up to pull off the clammy hand.
Only to stop short.
Blood thawed Hizashi's skin further. It was flush and abnormally warm.
"Oh."
Ever so slowly, scared of Hizashi fading back into an eldritch body, Shouta took the ring from his lover and slid it onto a solid finger.
"You're here. And you're mine."
"Why do I bet against you again? I always lose. God, why do you have to be so weird and inhuman in everything you do? Not that you aren't human, but you're an uncanny valley human. I wonder if Nedzu has run a- holy shit."
The door closed behind them softly. Hitoshi and Izuku stood there, stunned, observing.
Shouta and Hizashi were on the sofa. They were cuddled up, cosy underneath a blanket, and a mug of hot tea was held in Hizashi's hand. His head was tucked into Shouta's neck but the teenagers could still hear him murmuring about missing flavour. Neither of the lovebirds seemed to notice them.
"You'll have to take me out to a fancy restaurant now. If lemon, ginger and honey taste like ambrosia, and plain rice is something godly, then imagine how orgasmic everything else tastes. Oh shit, and I can finally cry now too, we need to fuck again so I can taste-"
"Hizashi!"
Hitoshi's cry was loud and joyous. The tea barely made it to the table in time to not spill on them before Hitoshi or Izuku barrelled into his arms. Hot, squishy, fleshy arms wrapped around them. A muffled sob came somewhere from the pile of bodies though you couldn't pinpoint its exact location.
"My children. Oh, my children! You can see me! I can talk to you!" with a choked up whimper, Hizash buried into the entwined mess, desperate wet kisses into their hair. "I love you. I love you so much. I can finally tell you that I love you."
They remained like that for hours, just a lump. Occasionally Shouta fed meal pouches through whatever crack between limbs he could and it would be slurped up, but other than that they just wallowed in euphoria and glee. Sometimes one would cry, a few of the participants fell asleep at one point or another, but they remained together.
It was only when a petulant chin poked Hizashi's shoulder did a pointed face extract itself from the love hug with a pout on his face. It matched the one of Shouta's face when they faced each other.
"Just join in you jealous twit," he snorted and once again cloistered his head in the mass. A new pair of arms and torso melded onto the cluster. Hizashi's smile was so big he drooled a little, and licked it off whatever it fell onto. Fortunately it was apparently Izuku's back, who had turned back into a kitten at some point, so all he got were some bone-shaking purrs.
"My family. And I'm getting married. I love you all so much."
Shouta's undignified screech is lost into the mass and promptly forgotten about.