Author's Note:

Just a few bits of context for you, the reader. As this fic involves drinking I intended for the characters to be aged-up to at least college, but of course you can imagine them at whatever age you are comfortable with. Also as you will see the story takes place at a time when Mirio and Tamaki are already aware of their feelings for each other and in some kind of relationship. I left the details of this purposefully vague so people can fill in their own blanks, but I thought it would help to clarify.

Enjoy!

"Gah! I can't do it anymore." Mirio's chair teetered dangerously as he slammed back into it.

Nighteye glanced up from the book he had been skimming and looked over at Mirio's slumped form with clear disinterest.

"Finally run out of steam?" he mused.

The Annual Heroes Unity Conference was verging on its third hour. Mirio had already spoken to just about everyone he cared to, twice over. These sort of events were held all the time between the agencies, something Mirio really wished he had known about in advance of his internship.

Supposedly the event was all about discussing new crime patterns, collaborations with the police force and quirk strategies, which all sounded good on paper. In actuality though there was usually just a lot of small talk and finger food. The first few times it seemed like the most exciting thing in the world being able to talk to pros up close and personal. Today he had finally found himself following in his mentor Nighteye's footsteps, slipping out of the crowd to a second-floor balcony to catch his breath.

"He makes it look so easy!" Mirio threw a hand out towards the throng, and Nighteye followed the line of his gesture to the place where All Might's two blonde tufts of hair erupted from the crowd like antenna towers.

"It looks exhausting," Nighteye's attention had already drifted back down to the book he was holding. "How's your friend getting along?"

Mirio leaned over his long legs with a frown. Tamaki hated these events. So much so that the two had worked out an arrangement so Tamaki could hide elsewhere in the building and Mirio would smuggle snacks to him. But apparently Fatgum had caught wind of their scheme last time and made it his personal mission to get Tamaki out and about socializing. It was all part of the pro hero's cunningly crafted "Tamaki Anti-Timidry Plan." Mirio had spent all night trying to locate the other, glancing over shoulders and peeking above heads in hopes of spotting him. The closest he got was a glance across the floor at the back of Tamaki's hooded cape sweeping along behind him.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him yet."

"Fatgum has his best interests at heart, I'm sure."

Mirio appreciated Fatgum's concern, but he was concerned himself about how Tamaki would fare.

There was silence between them, Mirio's eyes continuing to rove the crowd spread out below the balcony for a glimpse of the figure he so wanted to see.

"As someone rather reserved myself, I think I understand what he might be feeling."

Mirio hadn't expected that, although Nighteye said it without ever looking up from his reading.

"I want to understand."

That had always been a problem between them. Mirio did everything in his power to be understanding, but it couldn't change the fact that he didn't really know what the other felt. He got tired at these events sure, and maybe a little nervous depending on how cool the hero he was talking to seemed. But being around so many people seemed to fill Tamaki with a dread Mirio could never understand.

"I wouldn't wo-"

"Ah! There you are!"

Mirio and Nighteye both twisted around in their chairs to see Nejire rounding the corner out onto the little balcony. She was doubled over, panting as if she had been running to find them.

"You should- ah, Sir Nighteye! Am I interrupting?" She swallowed her heavy breathing and made some effort to seem presentable, but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

"Not at all."

"Then you should come quick, Mirio."

Her tone was cause for concern, the creasing of her brows even more so. Mirio slid out of his seat right away.

They had rounded the corner and made it about halfway down the hall when Nejire abruptly turned back around to face him.

"Tamaki's drunk."

Mirio gave her a nice, slow blink.

"I mean, not drunk drunk, I think. But he's been drinking."

"What? How?" he sputtered.

"You know that thing he does in group settings when he doesn't know what to say so he just keeps eating so he doesn't have to talk?"

"Of course."

"Well, he's been doing that but with the punch," Nejire made a face like a disappointed mother. "He didn't know it was alcoholic, apparently."

Mirio stared at her dumbfounded for a good while before rubbing his hands up and down over his face in visible distress.

"Okay, okay… where is he?"

"I put him in another room."

"You put him there?"

Nejire threw her hands onto her hips defensively.

"I had to come find you, didn't I?"

Mirio didn't even notice Tamaki at first. The lights were off, with just the moonlight streaming through the windows illuminating the interior of the empty office Nejire had stashed him in. There was a break room on one end and a set of lockers on the other, with desks arranged in criss-crossed rows. As Mirio's eyes adjusted in the dark a form started to take shape, one arm stretched out across the wood and head resting sideways against it. The fabric of Tamaki's hood was falling into his face but he peered up at Mirio with dark, nervous eyes.

When the door clicked shut behind them, Tamaki uttered a sheepish:

"Hi."

Mirio crouched down to get a good look at him, giving Tamaki's shoulder a comforting squeeze with his hand.

"Are you okay?"

Mirio's tone was laced with concern. Tamaki buried his face into the table in embarrassment.

"I'm fine. I just… feel dumb," he mumbled.

"You should!" Nejire snapped, still standing by the door with her arms crossed.

Mirio shot her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to Tamaki.

"Can you get up?"

"I told you I'm fine," he whined, and quickly rose from his chair. His coordination was fine, but his movements were slow and deliberate enough for Mirio to tell that he was thinking a little too hard about getting them right.

Mirio frowned back and forth between him and Nejire.

"I'm gonna take him back to the dorms, okay?"

"I'll cover if anyone asks about you guys," Nejire nodded.

She cracked the door open to leave, looking up and down both ends of the hallway before stepping out. She threw Tamaki one last long look and a despairing sigh.

"Get back safe."

As soon as they were alone Mirio slipped his arm over Tamaki.

"I'm sorry…" Tamaki muttered, turning his face into Mirio's shoulder and obscuring his flushed cheeks from view. "You don't have to leave because of me."

Mirio squeezed his shoulder gently, drawing him closer.

"Pft, I can't wait to leave. You're just giving me a good reason to."

Outside the air was crisp and cool, and the sun had just set. Tamaki balled the fabric of his cape in his fists and crossed his arms, pulling the fabric around him like a blanket. Mirio had taken his arm away from Tamaki's shoulder as soon as they stepped out of the room.

He wished he hadn't. He wished he could keep Tamaki warm the whole walk back.

Except no one really knew they had become a little more than friends recently. Nejire spent too much time around them to not see something had changed, but they certainly hadn't told her the whole story. Tamaki's heart couldn't handle the shock of imagining Nejire's overenthusiastic reaction.

"You've never been drunk before, right?"

Tamaki shook his head. Mirio knew the answer before he asked the question. They had known each other since grade school after all.

"People only drink at big social things like this… which I try to avoid," Tamaki was looking right up at him, speaking with that open candidness that always took Mirio aback. "You make it look so easy."

"Huh?" Mirio stammered.

"Talking to people. Being at this."

Mirio hesitated, not knowing what to say that would put Tamaki's anxieties to rest.

"It's not like that, though. I was hiding out with Nighteye half the time."

"Really?" The corner of Tamaki's mouth twitched into a smile.

"Of course!" Mirio suddenly dropped his voice to a confiding whisper. "If I had known being a hero involved so many handshakes I would have switched sides ages ago."

"Very funny." Tamaki deadpanned, but Mirio could sense his worries had eased for now.

They tread long stretches of sidewalks in silence, illuminated by the hazy yellow glow of street lamps. The night air was refreshingly cool, the breeze just gentle enough to flutter the capes of their uniforms.

Mirio got distracted watching a car pass and turn down the street. When he turned back Tamaki was focused on him, unblinking.

"What?"

"Your hair's getting long again."

Mirio brought his hand up to the back of his head, feeling the strands.

"Oh. You're right."

"I like it."

Mirio's surprise must have read across his features because Tamaki quickly avoided eye contact, looking back out across the street. "It looked good like that before."

Before…

In high school his hair had been swept back in a short ponytail, but Tamaki had never really said anything about it before. Come to think of it, Tamaki had never really complimented his appearance so brazenly.

"Maybe I should grow it out again… go for this look." He beamed at Tamaki and held two fingers above his forehead in a comical impression of All Might's signature hairstyle.

"Please no."

Mirio's bellowing laughter echoed. To his surprise, Tamaki chuckled under his breath too.

"Are you feeling okay?" Mirio inquired, his tone carefully composed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Tamaki's expression was so innocuous he knew he couldn't press the matter.

Even if he wanted to shout: "Because you're laughing! And smiling! And acting weird!"

Then Tamaki fumbled his footing a little stepping down from the curb, and Mirio remembered suddenly.

He was drunk.

Was that what they meant when they called it liquid courage?

"Can I come in?"

They were standing in the hallway outside Mirio's door, his hand still clutching the key in the lock. He looked back at Tamaki, who was looking suddenly shy.

"Yeah, of course."

This wasn't unusual. They spent plenty of time in each other's rooms, usually because they were studying for an exam or telling each other about their day. Mirio had never felt weird about Tamaki coming into his room before, but lately it felt a little more… intimate.

As Mirio closed the door behind them the raven-haired boy began to zig-zag across the room.

Then he made a line straight for the bed and began fumbling with his uniform belt.

Mirio squawked in startled surprise as Tamaki let the row of pouches fall to the floor and fell backwards into the mattress with a thwomp. His cape fluttered to a rest under his form.

"How are you feeling?" Mirio asked for the fourth time since they left the event as he came and sat next to the other boy. His hand reached out without thinking, combing through Tamaki's dark hair and pushing it back out of his eyes.

Tamaki's head lulled to the side to study him.

"What do you feel like when you're drunk?" he asked. His usually timid voice was more direct than usual, and Mirio felt a strange mixture of interest and worry.

"What do you mean?"

"Like when you and Nejire go out together. How do you feel?"

Mirio was no stranger to drinking. In high school the other students might have made jokes at the expense of his out-of-control quirk, but his goofball personality made him a popular invite to house parties. And now at UA, well, being in The Big Three certainly hadn't hurt his popularity. Mirio didn't really go out with the intent to drink, though. He went out to talk to people, something Tamaki argued he already spent too much time doing. Drinking was just part of that social interaction.

"Huh. Warm, I guess? Tingly in the back of your head? Sometimes when you look at things they look kind of out of focus." Mirio stuck his fingers into his styled-up bangs and shook them around, letting his hair fall relaxed against his forehead.

"Yeah," Tamaki nodded. "Do you ever feel…"

He hesitated, and caught his lip between his teeth. The silence dragged on just long enough for Mirio to know where this was going. There was really only one topic that Tamaki would still falter with even around Mirio.

"Turned on?" Mirio offered, and taking Tamaki's blush as confirmation he added more hesitantly:

"Do you?"

Tamaki gave the tiniest nod, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

"That's totally normal," Mirio laughed.

"Yeah?" Tamaki's brow furrowed.

"Yeah. Well it kinda affects everyone differently, but that's pretty common. Sometimes when I get drunk I'll start thinking about you and feel, you know..."

Tamaki's hand flew through the air and clamped firmly around the other's mouth. Mirio mumbled an apology from behind Tamaki's palm and lifted his hands up in surrender.

"You're an oversharer…" Tamaki muttered, but he wasn't blushing to the tips of his ears as Mirio had come to expect from admissions like that. His hand stayed put as his gaze focused on where Mirio's mouth was pressed against his fingers.

It was the same look he had been casting on the walk back when he thought Mirio wasn't looking, eyes dilated and distracted.

Mirio's heart thudded in his chest as Tamaki sat up abruptly, letting his hand ghost across Mirio's face to rest against his cheek. Their faces were inches apart, breath intermingling in the air between them. Tamaki's tasted like fruit and wine, and breathing it made Mirio feel he had been drinking himself.

Mirio wasn't sure what to make of it before, because Tamaki had never looked at him like that before.

Now that they were an arm's width apart in the darkness of his bedroom, its meaning was very clear.

It was a needy look.