Hibiya finishes all of his homework efficiently once he gets home and is immediately left with a dilemma. He could spend the remainder of his night as he always had, studying or reading, or he could transform and head out. Spending a night with his crush is definitely the superior option, perhaps he can even learn more about the other man. He and Songbird hadn't talked about patrol after today's early akuma, both too preoccupied with prior engagements, but the bird hero was more of a night owl, and his sightings were frequent enough to garner several blogs about tracking the hero, which, of course, Hibiya absolutely and shamelessly followed.
Songbird was infinitely more personable and sociable than Hornet, and, with the help of his handsome face, his routine patrols around Tokyo quickly elevated him to a mock-idol status. People would flock to the latest sighting locations when akumas weren't a concern, hoping to see the hero in the flesh or get a few words with him. Despite all he had going for him, Songbird seemed to neither revel in nor hate the attention. Hibiya's simultaneously fascinated and baffled with what could possibly be driving the other hero.
Some fights Songbird's eyes focus in on their target with a strange glimmer and his grin spreads madly, and Hibiya's positive in those moments that the other hero is a thrill-seeker, moving more on impulse than with considerable thought. Songbird has avoided using his hands in battles ever since their very first akuma, but with these fights he wastes more time twisting around the akuma, almost dancing, as he encourages it on in some manner. The blond outright plays with some of their foes! His overconfidence will surely be his downfall and Hibiya's heart already can't handle the palpitations when he's forced to idly watch. (But, good lord, does the show do something to Hibiya's gut that he does not understand at all.)
Then there are also nights like yesterday, where the perched blond zones out to the music blasting from the club below them. His eyes unfocused, mused hair in the breeze, with the backdrop of the bright neon city lighting. A free-spirit resting on a rusty railing. Small smiles crop up on these rooftops, but Hibiya has never seen the blond smile wider than he does while flying (Leaping? Gliding?) around the city. A very small part of the brunet finds itself envious of how absolutely free and weightless he must feel in those moments, but, then again, Hibiya's not that adventurous and worries about every little thing that could and would go wrong. Roam around the city? He doesn't even enjoy walking home from school! Hibiya's driver will be fired the day they don't show up on time!
What on Earth is this man doing to him to make him want to hop from rooftop to rooftop alongside of him? Is it solely Songbird's siren calls of adventure, or does he seriously have to consider what the Miraculous does to him? Hibiya would never hold a weapon so confidently or scale a building with a few hops, but Hornet was having less and less trouble with the tasks every day.
Hibiya's face flushes cherry red, mind reeling back to the memory of being in the blond hero's arms and soaring through the air so effortlessly. His nostrils fill with the phantom scent of an overly saccharine strawberry shampoo and his head suddenly feels light.
"I realize that you made that your background to stare at it," Linda cuts into Hibiya's daydreaming, "but you've been sitting there, staring at it silently for a good while now."
The brunet turns his computer screen off, making the collage of Songbird snapshots go black, and stands up stiffly. "We're going out tonight, Linda." Hibiya announces smoothly, fingers rising to tuck some stray hairs behind his right ear. The golden barrette in his black hair glints lively in the soft lighting, "Transform me."
"You must be a foreigner, because I definitely understood the young lady's no." The stern but joking voice says from above. The frightened woman and her attacker look up sharply to see their local superhero leaning over the railing of a fire-escape lackadaisically.
The man jerks, releasing the bruising grip he had on her wrist to step away. "H-Hey, she was leading me on! Getting me liquored up and making me pay for her drinks, but refusing to put out-"
The young woman squeals with surprise as a potted plant connects with her attacker's head, breaking upon impact and sending dirt flying everywhere. He hits the pavement like a rock, drunk (or weak) enough for the small blow to knock him unconscious.
"T-Thank you!" She whimpers with gratitude as Songbird hops down from the railing. The young woman's eyes are red and dazed, her footing wobbly. She's likely as drunk as her attacker was and, if she's lucky, she'll forget about all of the bad parts of her night tomorrow morning with her killer hangover.
"Can I take you to the Yamanote? Or do you have someone you can call to pick you up?" Songbird asks with standard concern.
"Oh, you're so sweet!" She slurs, leaning against the brick wall of the apartment building to remain upright. She doesn't actually answer his questions, almost dozing off against the building.
The blond's lip quirks before he departs to the end of the alley. He doesn't have to ferry each and every drunk woman home safely and it's an honest waste of his time when there's other crimes he could be stopping, but, right now, he's in Ikebukuro and he has options.
"Hey, Miss? Do you think you might vomit?"
"[I don't mind, honestly!]" The Black Rider holds up her phone while waving her other hand dismissively.
Her heart had almost jumped from the hole past her throat when Songbird suddenly landed alongside of her with an intoxicated woman over his shoulder. After explaining the situation, Celty was more than happy to help. The hero was hardly asking a favor of her, diving the young woman home. She probably would've done the same in his place.
"Thank you," the blond smiles graciously, already turning around to return to patrol.
"[Do you mind if I ask a quick question?]" Celty hastily types, retracting her phone for her next message when he stills and nods. She had only met the hero once before in passing during an attack. The akuma was too close to her and Shinra's apartment and she had wanted to help. What could an akuma do to a dullahan anyway? However, the altruistic blond had been quick to tell her to let them handle it and to prioritize evacuating civilians if she wanted to do something more. Celty wouldn't lie and say she wasn't a bit starstruck after that. "[How did you know where to find me?]"
Tucked in a thinner street of the apartment sectioning, she had just come off of a simple delivery job. It wasn't by accident that he had came to her, he clearly trusted her.
"I can hear your horse, Miss Dullahan." Songbird answers simply, and it makes total sense to her. It'd be more unusual if a bird themed superhero didn't have better hearing than most. Wait, how did he know about her and Shooter?! That never came up!
Songbird's eyes unfocus as they drift to his left, snapping back wider after a second. "Goodbye!" He chirps suddenly and sharply, running off and leaping onto the roofs, leaving a wildly gesticulating Celty behind.
"An urban legend and a superhero working together, how fascinating of a story that would be." A velvet voice says from behind her after the hero's silhouette against the bright city is long gone, cueing Celty to begin convulsing with surprise for a third time tonight.
"One of Tokyo's heroes appears quite friendly with you, Courier." Izaya's words carry accusation, and the glimmer of piqued curiosity in his serpentinely narrowed eyes is enough to convince her that she doesn't want to be apart of whatever he's sticking his fingers into.
"H-Hey Mister, where'd that cutie go?" The intoxicated woman slurs, coming back to awareness behind the dullahan on her bike.
The informant's nose wrinkles as Celty jerks her phone to his face. "[Goodbye!]"
"Good evening, Songbird," Hibiya greets politely as he approaches the blond. He's picked yet another club to rest atop, his legs slipped through the railing and dangling above the crowded street.
"Hey there," he says back pleasantly. The blond turns his head from the city below to face Hibiya with a smile and the wind very wisely decides that this moment was the perfect time to send a breeze to ruffle the hero's flaxen hair. "Got nothing else better to do either?"
"You," Linda broadcasts in the brunet's mind.
Hibiya flushes a faint pink, "I-I suppose not."
"Well," Songbird offers with a lopsided smile, "wa~y worse ways to spend a night than sitting above a bunch of smashed people and listening to their drunk tastes in music."
The brunet laughs, soft and open. When the blond's not causing Hibiya's anxiety, he manages to melt away the abrasive edges of it, relaxing him in a way that Hibiya's not accustomed to feeling around other people. "Assuredly."
Songbird's nose crinkles in humor and he pats the concrete alongside of him invitingly. Hibiya flushes and approaches hesitantly. He stares at the spot too long and must send off the wrong signal with the action, the blond bursting with an airy laugh that warms Hibiya's gut and spreads out to liquify his bones.
"C'mon, it's not that dirty." He says, gesturing to the spot again. "Our suits are new every time we transform."
Hibiya opens his mouth to roll with it to save face, it would be his concern in his civilian clothes anyway, but the blond continues on. "If it bothers you that much, just sit on your cape."
The brunet jolts. "You can do that?" His hand rises to his clavicle where the cape is clasped together. He's never considered taking parts of his suit off, but his cape was much less constricting than Songbird's. The golden material falls over his shoulders but curves behind him before it passes his elbows, most of it resting on his back and hips. Hornet needs his arms free to use his rapier effectively, but the blond hero requires the wind resistance that comes with making your lanky limbs smoother with the cover.
"Yeah," Songbird laughs heartily, bowing in on himself slightly. "Psyche hates it." Hibiya rests his weight on the railing with his hands as his legs desire to give out. "He used to complain all the time. He says it's like having his arms detached."
The brunet's nose wrinkles. He doesn't fully understand why it's so humorous, especially when his kwami explained the sensation, but Songbird is happy? Hibiya doesn't know the other's kwami. Perhaps they're melodramatic? They are gods meant to transform into protective suits of clothing, and the duo are hardly their firsts. In the back of his mind, Linda snorts with his own amusement, and Hibiya believes his assessment isn't far off. Despite finding his kwami's discomfort amusing, Songbird is still sporting the pink curtain.
"He finally stopped squawking at me for it recently," the blond waves a hand dismissively as he calms down.
"You tired him out?"
"No," he shakes his head, eyelashes fluttering around crinkling eyes. "He said, and I quote, how would you like it if someone took away your hands to sit on them and, I mean – I'm really bad at stopping myself, especially when people leave themselves wide open like that! So, of course I had to say that my hands aren't the only body parts that I like people sitting on." Songbird leaks out a chuckle with a wince, his kwami surely giving him hell. Hibiya, on the other hand, goes rigidly still as if hit with a freeze ray. The brunet's body goes hot all over, his face blooming bright red, and his brain skips on the sentence like a broken record.
My hands aren't the only body parts that I like people sitting on.
My hands aren't the only body parts that I like people sitting on.
My hands aren't the only body parts that I like people sitting on.
Hibiya's hopes lurch upwards with his heart. People, Songbird had used, as if to imply that that included men. And Hibiya was man! A man that had already sat on top of his lap! Oh god.
"Are you okay?" Songbird asks with concern dipping his features. Hibiya opens his mouth to say something, anything, but a faint choked noise is all that escapes his throat. "Sorry, was that too much? I keep forgetting that you're probably like fourteen or something."
Fourteen?
Fourteen?!
"I'm sixteen!" He corrects with a hitching yell.
"Oh," is all Songbird exhales, his eyes slightly wider with the information.
Did his crush truly see him as two years younger than he was? As… As a child? Hibiya's not sure if that's worse than him just not being attracted to other men to begin with. His vision blurs as his eyes mist up. His heart is clenching tighter than a vice and Hibiya is positive he might collapse to the cold concrete to wail like the child Songbird thinks he is if he lets go of the railing.
"H-Hey," the blond coos softly at the sight, reaching out timidly. Hibiya jerks back, stumbling slightly against the railing as his feet fumble and legs tremble. Songbird retracts his hands into his cape, not wanting to upset him further. "I just want you to know that I didn't mean anything bad by that. I just presumed that you were younger than me and I guess I overestimated and hurt your feelings."
"I'm sorry," Songbird says, voice gentle and eyes sparkling with sincerity. Hibiya can't stand how his heart already beats with forgiveness while still aching with a compressing pain.
"How old are you?" He chokes out. He's never actually thought to ask, what if he's been crushing on some thirty year old?! Maybe there is something far worse than his crush being straight or seeing him as a child.
"Eighteen."
The wave of relief doesn't ease Hibiya's gut, instead firing him up. "And you presumed that I was four years younger than you?" He doesn't act so infantile, he doesn't even act like most average teenagers! He's leagues more mature and responsible than some of his older schoolmates! He can even name one off of the top of his head!
"Sorry?" The blond's head tilts slightly in confusion. "My family tree is kinda comprised of tall and lanky people. People always presume that I'm older than I really am, I guess I do the opposite on accident to shorter people?"
"I am not short; my height is consistent with the national average!" Hibiya's growth spurts came slow, it wasn't his fault that he was still breaching five foot five, but his height wasn't an oddity in his demographic at all. The extra four inches promised by his father's genetics wasn't a concern of his until now.
"And I consistently hit the top of my six foot head on door frames and low-hanging fans," the blond jokes lightly in effort to calm the other young man down some.
Songbird's eyes spontaneously roll and stare off to the left. "Ha-ha, laugh it up." He mutters, presumably to his kwami. "At least you weren't around when I shared a bunk-bed." The blond flinches sharply, his eyes narrowing in kept anger as Hibiya assumes his kwami took him up on his offer.
Hibiya's lips press together. His heart is still throbbing with pain, but his problems are salvageable. They know each other's ages now, Hibiya can prove himself to be a viable romantic candidate. Unless Songbird refuses to date people younger than himself, which is still a possibility that stabs at the brunet's heart.
"I'm sorry," the blond apologizes again as Hibiya blinks the kept tears out of the corners of his eyes. "I didn't intend to hurt your feelings."
Hibiya breathes in shakily, his rhythm stilted. "Yes, I know."
"Would you like me to go?" Songbird asks gingerly, not waiting for a response to rise from his seat.
"No! I-" Hibiya tries to wave both hands, tipping his weight forward into the railing with an awkward slump. His spine tingles with electric jolts as the blond returns to his full height alongside of him. The other man really is like a tree, how has he never fully noticed? If wishes come true, how on Earth was he going to manage kissing his crush? Songbird would have to lift him up or bend down!
Oh no, oh no, oh no, the brunet's brain repeatedly blares like a fire siren.
Hibiya's face burns red as he forces out, "I'm not upset with you." Songbird's responding smile is faint, barely there but Hibiya sees it and he wonders why his legs haven't collapsed in on themselves yet. The bones in his legs must be one hundred percent gelatin by now and, with how hot everything under his collar feels, realistically he should be a melted, spread out mass on the club rooftop.
Oh no, oh no, bad choice of words!
"I'm sorry too, if I ever made you feel like… Condescended to?"
"No," Hibiya yips loudly because he can't exactly yell at the other hero to shut up and stop being so sweet to me, how are you real? When would've the other man even come across as condescending? "I...dislike being treated or thought of as a child, is all."
"I can understand that," he nods with far-off unfocused eyes.
Silence begins to sit with the two as neither continue their conversation, the music bleeding out from the club below becoming noticeable once more. Hibiya feels awkward, but it's obviously not mutual and he can content himself with that. He sighs to unwind himself with the next breeze, risking peeks at the other hero to watch the wind muse his marigold hair. Songbird visibly perks up when the next song fades in and Hibiya immediately recognizes the poppy melody; as his ringtone.
He was never one for the pop genre in general or with keeping his device's personalized settings up to date with the latest pop culture drivel, but, well… Hibiya can't blame his crush for openly admitting to liking a song only for Hibiya to look it up later to listen to by himself. The blond's petite smile returns when the song plays and his unfocusing eyes stare dreamily out at the city skyline.
Well thought out lyrics can be damned, it's definitely Hibiya's favorite song now too.