«You're joking.»
«Why would I be joking?»
«You have to be kidding with me right now."
The two of them are sitting in their shared apartment, enjoying a free evening with some quality time TV and a glass of alcohol.
Although quality might be debatable...
Yamada props his feet up onto the lounge table and sinks backwards into the cushions, gesturing purposefully towards the TV.
"This is a great show!" he proclaims. "It's got everything! Talent, drama, suspense…"
Aizawa scoffs, nearly choking on his drink.
"'Talent' is an ambiguous term. Him, that guy."
Aizawa points at the screen as a man in his early twenties proceeds to drink a mouthful of water, pinches his nose, and squirts the liquid out of his eye to extinguish four lit candles set on a table in front of him, one by one.
The audience loses its goddamn mind.
"Is that talent?"
Yamada frowns dubiously, and cocks his head in ponder.
"Well, that's… certainly unusual… not being a quirk and all…"
"But is it talent?"
The man on stage is momentarily buzzed by all three judges, who appear to be horrified by what they just witnessed. Yamada sips his gin-and-tonic thoughtfully.
"Theoretically", he begins, "a talent is a unique skill. Something special or above average. I've never seen a guy extinguish open flames by squirting out his eye-juices before… so yeah, I think it's a talent."
Aisawa side-eyes his blonde companion from his designated corner of the sofa.
"I could probably do that too, you know. It's only 'unique' because nobody's attempted it before, and it's utterly stupid." He shrugs indifferently. "It holds no real purpose."
Yamada grins, and moves to rise from the couch.
"You can do it too, huh? I'll find a candle you can eye-squirt your gin-and-tonic onto".
"Great".
Aizawa reaches over to grab the remote control that's been squeezed in between the cushions where Yamada previously sat.
"Meanwhile I'll change the channel to something good."
"Hey!"
Yamada hastily sits back down, trapping Aizawa's hand underneath his butt. The remote control is squished between the layers, switching channel from the news, to bad sit-coms, to a documentary on middle-eastern pottery.
"I was watching that!"
Aizawa looks unimpressed.
"So was I," he drawls. "I got bored. Now let's watch something else."
Yamada huffs and drills his bottom deeper into the sofa, trapping Aizawa's hand entirely.
"No fair!"
"Yes fair."
"I called dibs!"
"I called double-dibs."
Yamada promptly places his glass of alcohol on the lounge table, and apparently Aizawa finds it wise to do the same. Both of them are preparing for a prolonged scuffle.
The two of them spends a long moment staring at each other suspiciously, waiting for the other one to make a move.
Then Aizawa grimaces.
"You're cutting my circulation off. I'm pretty sure my hand has turned blue…"
Yamada is glaring guardedly at Aizawa, his bottom lip swelling into a distinct pout.
"You saying I'm heavy?"
"The heaviest pro-hero that ever lived."
Yamada knows he's being baited, but the line still has to be drawn somewhere. As the cockatoo blonde releases an indignant shriek, Aizawa tears his hand free and recoils into his corner of the sofa. Yamada pounces on him the next instant, only to be kicked back by Aizawa's lanky legs as the latter flails the remote control desperately, pressing random buttons toward the general direction of the TV.
The channel switches from nature documentaries to soap-operas, TV-dramas, house design, sports games…
Yamada struggles with his obstacles, offended abhorrence quickly transforming into misery.
"Shoutaaaaaaaa", Yamada whines, sour-smelling feet squishing his cheeks together. Aizawa smirks at him.
"I've never seen you look this beautiful before. Truly, a work of art".
"Give me the remote back!"
Aizawa keeps switching through channels as Yamada struggles to restrain his legs.
"Pfft, dream on."
His attention is drawn back to the TV as an old action movie, one that he recognises from his childhood, enters the screen. His expression is softened by nostalgia, and he turns up the volume slightly.
"Hey, let's watch this."
Yamada groans in despair as he fights to push Aizawa's feet away from his face.
"You've watched that movie like a thousand times!"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Yamada finally manages to push Aizawa's legs out of the way, and he grabs the remote with his right hand while the left clashes with Aizawa's underarm. They both struggle to overpower the other, Yamada grunting with effort as he stretches for the remote that Aizawa keeps at a safe arm length's distance away from him. Their legs intertwine as Aizawa edges further and further towards the ledge of the sofa in an attempt to keep away the remote control's vicious usurper, which ultimately results in them both toppling over onto the carpeted floor of the living room. They land in a messy pile of limbs and quarrelling.
"Give me the remote control back or I'll-!"
"Are you five?"
Yamada finally manages to grab the remote, but Aizawa is grasping it just as tightly as he is. The channel changes to a singing program, and Yamada's face lights up.
"Oh oh oh! Shouta, Shouta can we watch-"
Then it changes to a murder mystery.
"Hey, that looks interesting."
Yamada splays his thumb over all the buttons in retaliation, making Aizawa sigh in deep annoyance.
"Hizashi, you always get to decide what we-"
The channel changes once again, and suddenly, Aizawa's train of thought disappears, and he forgets his oncoming tirade completely.
Cats.
Thin cats, plump cats, scrawny cats, stout cats, all in a colour scheme varying from orange, to white, to straw-yellow, to black, and so on. Spotted ones, striped ones, some running after balls of yarn or bickering playfully with other felines of the same species.
Aizawa's mouth forms a tiny 'o' as he's staring transfixed at the screen, as if he's been caught in a hypnosis.
And in Yamada's opinion, he might as well be. He has to admit, this both amuses and disturbs him.
Amuses, well, first of all because that soft, innocent look on Aizawa's face is positively adorable.
And secondly disturbing because Yamada honestly does not want to spend his first work-free evening in over two months watching cats either run around with string or unabashedly lick their own genitalia.
"Whaaaat? You can't mean you wanna watch boring cats just run around and do boring cat stuff?"
The channel changes again, and this time, Aizawa actually takes personal offence.
"Hey! Hizashi, turn it back."
The pair is back to scuffling and rolling around along the carpet, both fighting for the dominant position on top. Aizawa wraps his legs around Yamada's waist, struggling to sit upright and wedge the remote out of the stupid cockatoo's grasp. Yamada takes hold of Aizawa's shoulders and spins them around, claiming the top position once again.
Their breathing comes out in laborious pants now, Yamada lying flat against Aizawa as their joined hands wave the controller around.
And suddenly their eyes lock for the first time since their childish little fight began.
It only takes a split second for Yamada to finally acknowledge how close they are, their bodies pressed tightly against one another on the carpeted floors. His pulse quickens as heat rises in his cheeks, and he can feel Aizawa's heart thumping against his own rhythm.
Aizawa stares up at him with a dazed look in his eyes, his warm breath brushing against Yamada's neck.
Both their grips around the remote loosen gradually, and for a long moment: all they do is stare into each other's eyes.
"We both haven't been able to just… unwind and relax. For weeks." Yamada murmurs, his free hand combing gently through Aizawa's tangled hair.
Aizawa slowly raises a hand to brush Yamada's blonde curls behind one ear, picking his orange shades off his nose and tossing them away dismissively, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Then that same hand finds its way to the nape Yamada's neck, pulling him in for an inviting kiss.
The tension they both felt just a second ago is ebbing away, gradually being replaced by a different kind of tension. Yamada sighs contentedly as the kiss deepens, and he feels Aizawa let go of the remote to let his hands roam over Yamada's back.
The noise coming from the TV is all of a sudden very distracting, and Yamada somehow finds the presence of mind to turn the screen off, then discards of the remote with a flick of his wrist. He might have flung it into a wall and broken it for all he cares, and a sharp 'thud' - followed by clattering sounds in the distance - tells him that he probably did.
Yamada hears Aizawa sigh heavily as Yamada's trailing kisses along his stubble to gently nib at his ear. "That's not coming out of my pay check you know…"
Yamada pulls back long enough to grin cheekily down at his boyfriend, shrugging while gently running his thumb along Aizawa's jawline.
"Whoops."
Aizawa smirks and pulls Yamada in for another kiss.
All support is highly appreciated, especially reviews! I want to get better!