Seven years ago...

"What a waste of space."

"Maybe he would've been adopted if he wasn't such a creep."

"No way. Didn't you hear? His fourteenth birthday was yesterday."

"He's never getting adopted now."

"Everyone knows teenagers never get picked. Not over little ones."

"Even if he was a kid, no one would want him. He's so weird."

"Yeah. He never talks. All he does is scribble in that stupid journal."

Hitoshi hid under his bed reading Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. Not many people thought to look for him there, except for the younger kids who liked being read to. But he wouldn't be able to stay there for long. Even with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a terrible draft blew across the hardwood floor, numbing his fingers. Unfortunately, the air vent happened to be right underneath his bed. He would've been warm outside under the summer sun, but it wasn't safe outside.

He learned his lesson from last time.

"Give it back!" He'd snapped, reaching for the notebook where he wrote down all of his poems.

"What do you write in here, anyway?"

"Probably all of his dirty little secrets."

"What kind of guy keeps a diary?"

"Yeah, what are you, gay or something?"

Hitoshi flushed. "There's no correlation between poetry and sexual preference!"

"What does that even mean?"

"I think it means he's gay."

"I said give it back!"

"You want it? Then go get it!"

Hitoshi watched in horror as his most prized possession was dropped into a pond.

For weeks afterward, those same kids kept a close eye on him. Waiting for the moment he set pen to page again so they could mess with that notebook too. But to avoid this problem, he'd learned to store the poems he wrote in his mind. That way no one could hurt them. Or him. No one even knew they existed. It was his quiet revenge. He wrote them about everyone. They were his secret weapon. And remembering them was his superpower.

"Hitoshi."

He flinched as Ms. Shuzenji bent down to meet his eyes under the bed. "Did you forget?"

Oh right. He had an interview today. Not that it mattered. He never got picked.

Never.

~.~

He clutched Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass to his chest as he sat down in front of yet another couple that was bound to reject him. A man with shaggy black hair and a man with blonde hair and tinted glasses.

"This is Mr. Aizawa and Mr. Yamada," Ms. Shuzenji said.

Shinsou gave a curt wave. "Hi."

"Tell them a little about yourself, Hitoshi," she encouraged.

But he looked up at them, unsmiling. "You seem like nice people, so I won't waste your time. I'm not the one you want. You might as well go home."

"Hitoshi!" Ms. Shuzenji exclaimed.

"What makes you say that?" Mr. Aizawa asked.

Hitoshi shrugged. "I'm an unapproachable creep who never talks. Get yourself one of those cute little five years old or - "

" - You like to read?" he interrupted, noticing the book.

Shinsou clutched it tighter. "I like writing. But you can't be a good writer if you don't read."

"Very true," Mr. Yamada said with a smile. "You're a pretty smart guy, Hitoshi."

Mr. Aizawa sat back in his chair with his arms crossed. "You're being blunt with us, so I'll be blunt with you. We're doing this interview because we weren't allowed to fill out adoption papers until we did. But we've already made up our minds about you."

Hitoshi's eyes widened. "What?"

Mr. Yamada sighed. "We've been wanting to start a family for a while now. But our lifestyle isn't exactly ideal for raising younger kids.

Mr. Aizawa nodded. "If we're being honest, neither of us have the time to care for a toddler."

They...they actually.. .want a teenager?

Mr. Yamada waved his hands. "Don't get me wrong, we would've taken what we could get. Even though gay marriage was recently legalized, most orphanages still frown upon adopting out to same-sex couples."

Ms. Shuzenji shook her head. "I don't understand why 'love is love' is so hard for people to understand. But I assure you, U.A. Orphanage does not discriminate. All we care about is sending children to homes where they will be happy and loved."

"We appreciate that," Mr. Aizawa said. "Not everyone is as kind as you towards people who are different."

Hitoshi breathed in sharply, his heart pounding. They...they're like me. They know what it's like to be -

"We looked through the files of every child eligible for adoption here," Mr. Aizawa continued. "Yours said this is the fifth orphanage you've been to."

Hitoshi's shoulders sunk. So that's it. They pity me. They don't actually -

" - I couldn't believe our luck. I have no idea how a kid like you was even available."

He snapped his head up. "A...a kid like me?"

"You get amazing grades. You're polite and mature, and creative! A few of your poems are kept in your file. They were so moving!" Mr. Yamada said excitedly.

"You're an intelligent young man," Mr. Aizawa said. "If I'd been your teacher I would've transferred you into an advanced course of study."

Mr. Yamada smiled warmly. "We noticed you right away on the website. One of the gallery's photos was a picture of you reading to a bunch of other kids. It was the cutest!"

Mr. Aizawa flushed. "You would be our first adoption. But we're definitely open to taking on more kids. It meant a lot to us that you're so good with children."

Hitoshi couldn't believe it. Everything they were saying felt like a dream. They want me. They actually want me.

"I suppose we should warn you about a couple of things," Mr. Aizawa said. "My husband runs a radio show on Friday and Saturday nights. He can get a bit loud but we're working on soundproofing the house."

Mr. Yamada grinned sheepishly. "I'm a night owl. I usually don't get home until three in the morning and I sleep in until noon. But I'm home on the weekends."

"I'm the store manager of Dick's Sporting Goods out at the mall but I have a competent staff I can rely on. My shifts are nine-to-five Monday through Thursday. But if you needed me home more often, I'd be willing to alter my schedule."

"Do you like cats?" Mr. Yamada asked.

Shinsou's heart raced. "You have a cat?"

"Several. There are lots of strays who frequent our backyard. They usually yowl for some kind of breakfast at six."

"And they let us pet them!" Mr. Yamada exclaimed excitedly.

"We installed a cat door so they can come inside when it's cold. They come and go as they please, but we take responsibility. So they're...kind of ours."

Hitoshi smiled. Yes. He very much loved cats.

"We have two spare bedrooms," Mr. Yamada said. "One of them is ready for you, and the other is a guest room but we could easily convert it into an office for you to do schoolwork."

I've gotta be dreaming. There's no way this is actually happening.

Mr. Aizawa suddenly looked nervous. "I know we're not the ideal parents. Or what you might have expected."

Mr. Yamada sighed. "You'd be on your own a lot. It's rare when Shota and I are both home at the same time. But...we'd make sure you have everything you need."

"Money's not an issue. You'd have your pick of schools. You score so highly, you'd be accepted into any school you want. But...it's up to you."

"We have our hearts set on you, sound byte," Mr. Yamada said with teary eyes. "So whaddya say?"

I can't believe it. They're so nice...and they want to be my parents. Hitoshi's shoulders shook as he began to cry.

He never thought it would happen.

"What a waste of space."

"Maybe he would've been adopted if he wasn't such a creep."

"No way. Didn't you hear? His fourteenth birthday was yesterday."

"He's never getting adopted now."

"Everyone knows teenagers never get picked. Not over little ones."

"Even if he was a kid, no one would want him. He's so weird."

Hitoshi didn't know how or when they made it over to him but the next time he opened his eyes they had their arms around him in a warm hug, careful not to bump the book out of his hands.

Straight out of a dream

Soft and kind like a spring breeze

People who see me

Ms. Shuzenji gave a knowing smile. "I'll go grab the paperwork."

~.~

Seven years later...

Shinsou woke at six on the dot. Not that he had much choice. Three different cats were kneading and stomping his stomach, impatient for their breakfast.

Robbing me of sleep

You act as though you're starving

Damn you, hungry beasts

His eyes were still shut as he scuffled into the kitchen and scooped out dry food into the numerous bowls that littered the kitchen floor. Then he rubbed his eyes and got to work making pancakes for Eri, who was up not long after the cats.

Aizawa scuffled out into the kitchen much the same way his son did, pressing the button on the coffee maker before sitting down at the table for his morning cigarette. "Hizashi says you have a new muse."

Shinsou froze. "What makes him say that?"

"He went into your office to grab a rubber band for his hair. Saw a bunch of poems on your desk."

He flipped three apple pancakes off the griddle onto a plate with butter and syrup. "Just scraps. Nothing special."

Aizawa smirked. "Nothing special, huh? Not even the one about the boy with golden hair, warm on your skin like summer?"

Shinsou's stomach flip-flopped, but he tried not to show it. "That one's about one of the cats."

He laughed. "A lot of cats come and go but I've never seen one with golden hair. Wanna try again?"

Dammit. He sighed. "It doesn't matter. He's taken."

"Then why are you writing poems about him?"

Shinsou poured himself some coffee and sat down next to Aizawa. "To get them out of my head."

Aizawa shrugged. "Just because he's unavailable now, that doesn't mean - "

" - He's also straight."

Aizawa raised a brow as he took an inhale of his cigarette. "Wow. You really know how to pick them, don't you?"

Shinsou scowled. "I didn't do it on purpose."

He laughed. "No one ever does. You think I planned on marrying an obnoxious loudmouth like your father?"

He gasped. "But...don't you love him?"

"Of course. But loving him wasn't the plan, either. You don't get to choose who you love. You of all people should know that."

Shinsou raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

He smirked. "You're a poet, aren't you? Poets write about romance all the time."

The purple-haired twenty-something scoffed. "Oh yeah, I'm just spewing hearts and flowers."

"Yup. Just like your dad."

"Which one?"

"Yes."

Shinsou grabbed a napkin off the table and scribbled down his morning composition. He slid it across the table with crossed arms. "See? I'm not a sap."

Aizawa squinted at it."Damn you, hungry beasts?"

"If you turn it upside down, it's about the government draining us of our livelihood."

That made his dad chuckle. "Way to stick it to the man, son."

"They deserve it. It's the same government that refused to acknowledge gay marriage up until a few years ago."

Aizawa shrugged. "Technically they've recognized us as married for decades."

Shinsou glared at him. "That's only because they thought dad was a girl."

He grinned. "It was the hair, I think."

Shinsou rolled his eyes. When a small black and white kitten hopped up onto his lap, he leaned back in his chair and absently gave it chin scratches as it began to purr.

Aizawa finished off his cigarette and drank some coffee. "So...you've got a thing for blondes?"

Shinsou shot him an unamused look and didn't answer.

Then his father got strangely quiet, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "I have a favor to ask."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay. What is it?"

"When Dave & Buster's opens, I need you to book a reservation for Eri's birthday."

"But...her birthday isn't until December."

"I know. But between Thanksgiving and Christmas, your dad and I won't have time to schedule off from work. Not during our busiest time of year. So we decided to have it next week instead. That way we can both give her our undivided attention."

He nodded. "Alright. But...can't you just make a booking over the phone?"

Aizawa shook his head. "I wouldn't. They've got a new guy working there who's still in training. I'd feel better if you did it in person."

He shrugged. "Whatever. Sure. I'll do it before I clock into work today."

"Sounds good. In fact...why don't you get dressed and head over now? I'll get Eri ready for school."

Shinsou gently placed the cat back down on the floor. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I have off today anyway."

His brows narrowed. What's the deal? Dad's never sent me on an errand like this before. Besides, if he's off from work, why can't he just go to Dave & Buster's himself?

Unfortunately, his father's face was harder to read than a book written in braille. Deciphering his face expressions would not reveal Aizawa's true intentions.

"Better hurry, or they won't be any slots left open."

~.~

He'd been to Dave & Buster's once or twice but it was on the other end of the mall, so it wasn't a common occurrence for him. It was also the sort of place you went with a large group of people, which he didn't make a habit of doing. So he felt out of place stepping into the Chuck-E-Cheese-for-Adults Barcade.

This might've explained how he was able to trip over his own two feet and into a Dance Revolution machine. Or he would've if, no one had caught him.

But someone did.

One moment he was upright. The next, Shinsou laid bridal-style in the arms of a very tall man with blonde hair and dark eyes. Eyes he was currently getting lost in. He looked to be around his age. But there was one vital difference between the two of them. This muscly mountain man clearly got a dose of whatever Kool-Aid made Steve Rogers Captain America.

"You took a bit of a tumble, there. Are you okay?"

There was a slight accent to his English that he couldn't place. Which only made him sexier.

Young, blonde Adonis

Rippling muscles for days

Eyes like the night sky

Voice soft and gentle

Just the way he's holding me

Never let me go

"Sir?" he asked.

Say something. Anything! Speak! What's wrong with you?! A flush rose to his face when the silence persisted.

The man gently lowered him back to his feet, and Shinsou left his arms much like a reluctant cat who'd made itself comfy on your lap. "We don't open for another hour. But you're welcome to come back at ten."

Shinsou stared, dumbfounded. His palms suddenly felt sweaty and his stomach was beyond the point of butterflies. It felt more like it was filled with vampire bites clawing and screeching to get out.

More mountain than man

Pound on my body like rain

Hard as rock and stone

Raffaele Monti

Could not have sculpted a man

So perfectly

Would you let me climb

Like vines on a sycamore

Up your firm body?

"Yeah," he said in a daze, walking out with all three of his legs.

~.~

Shinsou, unbeknownst to him, had been sweeping the same spot on the floor for fifteen minutes. Haikus were formulating in his mind faster than he could commit them to memory.

Tall handsome stranger

I'll be thinking about you

As I lay in bed

"SHINSOU!"

He flinched, almost dropping the broom completely.

Keigo waved a hand over his eyes. "Are you in there?"

He glared at him, unamused. "Usually."

"I was trying to say you can stop sweeping. This is the cleanest the floor has ever been."

Shinsou cleared his throat, handing him the broom. "Oh. Thanks."

"Thank you," Keigo answered, looking at him strangely. "Are you sick or something? You're really out of it today."

Shinsou smirked. "No. I'm probably just oxygen-deprived because you're using it all up."

Keigo yawned, stretching out his arm and flipping Shinsou off at the same time.

"No back sass to your superiors, Rarity." Dabi ruffled his hair as he walked back into the store from his break.

"I don't know what's funnier," retorted. "The fact that you're the biggest hypocrite who ever lived or that you know the names of characters from My Little Pony."

Dabi snickered. "Hey, you're the one who got the reference."

Shinsou crossed his arms. "I have a seven-year-old sister. What's your excuse?"

"Oh snap," Keigo muttered.

"I have Keigo," Dabi replied.

"Snap indeed," Tokoyami declared as he walked past Spencer's to get to the food court.

"HEY!" he yelled in outrage. "I'm not a bronie!"

"But you are a child," Dabi answered.

Keigo started batting at Dabi's chest. "I'm not the one who throws tantrums in public when - "

Dabi clamped a hand over Keigo's mouth. "Places everyone. We've got a customer," Dabi said quickly. "Hi! Welcome to Spencer's!"

"Oh, hi! Thank you."

Shinsou narrowed his brows. Wait a minute...why does that voice sound -

He darted behind a clothing rack when he saw. It was the same blonde guy who he met at Dave & Buster's. He was still in uniform. He must be here on break.

"Oh, you work at the mall!" Keigo said cheerfully. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

The man smiled and shook his head. "I'm new. I just moved here from Kyoto."

Keigo gave a low whistle. "Foreign import. Nice."

Dabi grabbed Keigo by the shirt collar and dragged him behind the register. "Please excuse him."

"Dabs!"

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Dabi asked ignoring him.

"A jacket," had admitted sheepishly. "It's a lot colder here than I'm used to."

"Sweet. We've got leather jackets, hoodies, and a few windbreakers. Shinsou can...wait where did he go?"

Please no. The one time you give a shit about where I am and what I'm doing...

"Shinsou!" Keigo called. "The hell?"

"Oh, he's back here." Dabi wrapped his arms around Shinsou's and picked him up before plopping him smack in front of Mr. Dave & Buster's.

He forgot how to breathe all over again. My memory of him didn't do the mountain man justice.

Mountain man smiled at him. "Hello again!"

Shinsou wished he were invisible.

Rid me of this life

How I crave a sweet release

From my misery

"Again?" Keigo asked softly from behind the register.

The blonde man gently brushed some dust off of Shinsou's shoulder. "I was wondering where you went. You never came back."

Dabi walked slowly behind the register to join Keigo, not looking away for a second. "What's going on?" he whispered.

"I think tall, blonde, and smokin' knows Shinsou," he whispered back.

"Down, Keigo."

Dammit, they're watching me. What gives? Any other time they don't give a crap what I'm doing.

"Sorry. I forgot I had to clock into work," he said, feigning nonchalance. "But we could always pick up where we left off after I'm done," he said flirtatiously.

"You think he'd learn after hitting on ever every cute guy," Keigo whispered.

"Stop calling him cute," Dabi snapped.

Shinsou was used to being snickered at, brushed off, or sometimes hit for his harmless flirtations.

He did not expect the blonde mountain to chew his lip and look him up and down.

Dabi gaped at the display. "Oh my god."

"What time do you get done?" the man asked.

"Now," Dabi immediately declared, leaving the cash wrap. "He's...he's off work now."

Shinsou raised an eyebrow. "What? I'm supposed to close tonight - "

" - Clearly you mixed up the days, you silly goose," Keigo said, grinning wide.

Shinsou shot him a look of horror and mouthed what the fuck are you doing?!

Dabi cleared his throat. "What, um...were you planning on doing, exactly? If I may ask."

The blonde smiled and shrugged. "Bowling and food, maybe."

Shit. I hate bowling. "Um, well the thing is - "

" - He'd love that," Dabi said, covering Shinsou's mouth.

What is it with you guys?!

"Great." He gave a small bow. "I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Mashirao Ojiro."

Shinsou gave a shy wave. "Hitoshi Shinsou."

"Please to meet you," he said softly. "Hitoshi Shinsou."

Why does my name sound so nice when he says it? He thought as a blush crept up his face.

Keigo soundlessly speed-dialed a number and ducked beneath the register. Once the line picked up, he whispered two words.

"YUMI. DIRT."

~.~

He wasn't supposed to flirt back!Shinsou thought in a panic as he stared down the length of a bowling lane. This was never meant to happen. The hot jock guy was supposed to ask out the cute girl who existed almost exclusively in pink and saved puppies. Not the part-time cashier at Spencer's with purple hair and bags under his eyes.

"Have you ever bowled before?" Ojiro asked, walking to stand next to him.

Nightmarish flashes from his childhood surfaced. Most of the orphanages he'd been to liked to do something to celebrate each kid's birthday. The choices were usually rollerblading or bowling. Shinsou figured it'd be easier for other kids to knock him on his face if he was cruising around on wheels, so he'd opted for bowling.

It had been a huge mistake.

He'd possessed no upper body strength to speak of, which meant a ten-pound bowling ball was difficult for him to lift, let alone throw and actually hit something. What the other kids couldn't do in physical bullying, they more than made up for with their verbal taunts and laughter as he relied on the bumpers to get the ball down the lane.

Then they found a way to physically hurt him anyway.

"No," he answered. "Maybe you could show me." That's what the pink girl would do right? Pretend she doesn't know how to do something so the guy can feel competent and confident as he -

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly. "I haven't either, but I've always wanted to try it."

Shinsou did a double-take, looking up at Ojiro with surprise. "Oh."

He shrugged. "In the movies, they bend down and stare at the pins really hard and then roll it. Right?"

Shinsou laughed. "Right."

Ojiro grabbed a bowling ball, staring at the pins for a very long time before throwing it. But it hit the floor so hard it bounced and ended up in another lane.

"Chikushō!" he swore, covering his eyes.

Oh my god, he meant it. He's terrible. Shinsou chuckled. "I've never seen that before."

"I'm so, sorry, I - "

" - No no, it's fine," Shinsou assured, trying to stop laughing. "It was funny."

Ojiro took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I threw it too hard, that was the problem."

There were a lot of problems, Shinsou thought, amused. But he kept his mouth shut.

His expression was hopeful. "Would you mind if I tried again?"

Shinsou shook his head. "No, go ahead." Please, try as much as you want. The more Ojiro practiced, the less bowling he had to do. Besides, he seems like he wants to do better.

On the second try, Ojiro got a gutter ball. Then they put the bumpers up. He managed to knock down one pin on the third try.

Shinsou watched, fascinated, as the fire in Ojiro's eyes burned brighter which each failure. Instead of being discouraged, it drove him to try even harder than before. He's not doing it to impress me, either. He's really into this.

His form got better after a couple dozen tries. He realized rather than kneeling on one knee, he had to step forward and lunge as you rolled the ball down. Then Shinsou started to notice other things. His chiseled jaw. The hard set of it when he concentrated. The firm ripples of his biceps as he pulled his arm back to throw the ball. The way his chest looked through his thin T-Shirt.

Shinsou felt flushed all of a sudden, needing to take his sweater off. But he blushed redder when he realized as he went to pull it off, it was pulling his T-Shirt off too.

Dammit.

"Need help?" Ojiro asked, walking over.

Oh crap. "I...oh, I'm good it's just stuck."

"Here." Ojiro grabbed the hem of Shinsou's T-Shirt and held it down. "Try now."

Shinsou's heart pounded. He's almost touching me. Electricity traveled down his back when he felt Ojiro's hands through his shirt on his torso. The warmth of them tingled his skin.

Slowly and shakily Shinsou pulled up his sweater. When he popped his head out the neck of it, his face was inches away from Ojiro's.

Up close, his eyes were even more captivating. Deep and endless like the night sky. They were framed by a sharp set of brows, but on his face, they looked kind. And his mouth...

Shinsou found himself leaning forward. Ojiro's hands moved gently from the hem of his shirt to his hips, grabbing them firmly. Shinsou shuddered at the contact as his lips parted. Ojiro closed his eyes.

"Hi, Shinsou!"

Instinctively, he hid in Ojiro's chest, doing his best to compress himself into something smaller. Oh wow, he smells really good. It was an intoxicating mix of sweat and some kind of men's deodorant. Wait. Crap! I'm not supposed to be -

"I didn't know you like to bowl!" Midoriya said excitedly as he walked hand in hand with Bakugo.

I don't. But I'm starting to get why people like it, he thought as he was crushed against Ojiro's abs. "Well, I...um - "

All too soon, Ojiro took his hands off of Shinsou's waist and took a step back to greet the new arrivals.

"Dammit!"

All four of them flinched as they heard the shout, but they couldn't pinpoint where it came from.

~.~

Yumi clamped a hand over her mouth and ducked back down behind a Galaga machine.

"What's your visual, Ali?" Dabi asked over the phone.

Yumi could hear Keigo while Dabi had his phone on speaker. "Why is that her code name?"

"Clearly you've never seen her deck someone."

Yumi smirked. "Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee, biotch."

"I'm surprised you didn't choose demon princess," Keigo said.

Yumi thought for a moment. "Interesting. We'll discuss a potential name change during our next meeting."

"Affirmative."

"Wait, you guys have MEETINGS?"

"What just happened?" Dabi asked over the phone.

"I think they were about to kiss but Cinnaboy and Pomeranian just showed up."

"Aw, that sucks," Keigo said disappointedly. "I'm glad I didn't miss it, though. If they could hold out for a few more hours - "

" - Oh shhh they're talking."

"Put it on speaker," Dabi said.

She clicked the speaker button.

"Never seen you around before," Bakugo said suspiciously.

"My name is Mashirao Ojiro. I just moved here from Japan. I'm glad I get to meet some of Shinsou-san's friends."

Bakugo scoffed. "I wouldn't say we're - "

" - It's nice to meet you too!" Izuku said excitedly, giving a small bow and then shaking his hand. "Would you like to play with us?"

"I don't wanna share my lane," Bakugo snapped.

Ojiro smirked defiantly. "Maybe I don't want to either."

Yumi gawked open-mouthed when Ojiro placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest.

"It looks like they're having a stand-off," she whispered.

"Who?" Keigo asked.

Yumi couldn't look away. "Mr. Man and Pomeranian."

"Oh snap. Dabi, are you sure we can't close early?"

"Yes," he snapped. "And Shinsou's not here to cover for us."

"We need to hire a fourth person who can cover us when Shinsou can't."

"We'll discuss that at our next meeting."

"WHAT MEETINGS ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

"Shut up, Keigo," Yumi snapped.

"You think you're that good, huh?" Bakugo asked, crossing his arms.

"Maybe I do," Ojiro answered.

"What are you doing?" Shinsou whispered. "We've been at this for an hour and you haven't even gotten a strike yet."

Ojiro smiled with confidence. "I tend to do better against an opponent."

"You're challenging me?" Bakugo asked surprised.

"Yes."

Bakugo grinned. "Hell yeah. Get ready to die, blondie."

"You have blonde hair too," he pointed out.

"Shut up and throw a damn ball!" Bakugo exclaimed.

"Oh my god!" Yumi squealed quietly. "They're actually gonna do this!"

"Who do you think will win?" Dabi asked.

"Oh, definitely Pomeranian. I've been watching Mr. Man and Fluttershy for an hour and - "

" - Who the fuck is Fluttershy?" Dabi asked.

Yumi scoffed. "Shinsou. Who else would it be?"

"His codename is Rarity."

"But he's nothing like Rarity," she protested. "His personality is more closely aligned with Fluttershy's."

"I named him Rarity because he's got purple hair," Dabi protested.

"Twilight Sparkle has purple hair too, though," Keigo said.

Dabi sighed. "Fuck it. Just name him MLP."

" No, that's stupid!"

" Well if we can't decide on a damn horse - "

" - They're not horses, Dabs, they're ponies."

" What's the fucking difference?"

" I dunno. If Shinsou were here he could google it for us but - "

" - Holy shit," Yumi said.

She watched, unbelieving, as Ojiro tossed a bowling ball down his lane.

And got a perfect strike.

"Homeboy just merc'd some pins," Yumi said.

"Get the fuck out," Dabi said.

"Excuse me, sir," a customer said in the background. "I'm here to make a return - "

" - Sorry ma'am, the register's down you'll have to come back tomorrow."

Yumi scoffed. "Are you seriously turning away customers so you can - "

" - I don't wanna hear it from the one who canceled her shift so she could spy on a date."

"I didn't cancel, Yamada - "

" - There's no way he let you off work to go spy on Shinsou."

~.~

One hour earlier...

"YUMI," Keigo whispered over the phone. "DIRT."

Yumi snuck into the bathroom and whispered, "I admire your dedication but can it wait? I just clocked in for my - "

" - Shinsou's going on a date."

You've gotta be kidding me. "When?"

" Now."

"What do you mean, now?! He's closing tonight, isn't he?!"

" Not anymore, Dabi just let him loose."

"Dammit," she muttered. "Where's the date?"

" Dave & Buster's. The guy works there."

"What? That can't be, everyone who works there are in their forties."

" This guy's new."

She gasped. "A new guy?"

"Yes, he just moved here from Japan."

"Why are you only telling me this now?!" she shrieked.

" Woman, I literally. J ust. Found out. I'm serving this to you hot off the press."

Yumi sighed. "I mean...I'd go spy on my own but - "

" - Yoomz, you don't understand. He's cute."

Her brows went up. That changes things. "Spill."

" Blonde, athletic and tall."

She let out a low whistle. "Golden retriever-athletic or yellow lab-athletic?"

"German shepherd. Like...toned and muscular but...streamlined and could definitely fuck you up."

She squealed. "Oh my god. Give me a comparison!"

" You know Brad Pitt, right?"

"Oh my gawd," she growled. "Nineties Pitt?"

" Yeah, definitely nineties, early two-thousands."

She pursed her lips. "Okay...Mr. & Mrs. Smith Brad Pitt, or Interview With The Vampire Brad Pitt?"

" Legends of the Fall."

"Holy shit..." she gasped. She stomped her heel in frustration. "DAMMIT!"

" I'm telling you, woman, you cannot afford to miss this."

"Yumi?" Mr. Yamada asked from the other side of the door. "Are you on the phone?"

She flinched. "Uh...Mr. Yamada, I...I need to call out of work today."

" What? Why?"

"Shinsou's going on a date and I need to spy on him."

There was a pause. Then with the manager's key, Mr. Yamada unlocked the bathroom and shoved something in her arms. "Bring my Polaroid with you!"

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? I thought you said - "

" - GO!"

"But...I work today."

" - Not anymore!"

" - You're...actually letting me - "

Mr. Yamada shoved her out the door. " - If you get a photo of them kissing, I'll give you a raise. Come back empty-handed, and you're fired."

~.~

"I seriously doubt that's how it happened," Dabi said.

"Your lack of faith disturbs me," she snapped.

"You either misquoted that from Star Wars or you didn't know it was a Star Wars quote. Both make me sad," Keigo said.

"Yumi?"

She squeaked, standing up and whirling around.

It was none other than her boyfriend.

Hanta Sero. Along with his...colleagues.

"Hi, Yumi!" Kirishima said with a smile.

"Hi, Kiri."

"What are you doing hiding back here?" Sero asked.

"Spying on Shinsou."

"Why?" Kaminari asked.

"He's on a date."

"He is?!" All three boys exclaimed.

"Well, where is he?" Sero asked.

"Bowling."

"No way! We were gonna bowl too!" Kiri said.

"Who's he on a date with?" Kaminari asked.

"Apparently a new guy from Japan."

"Ojiro?" Sero asked. "He got a smoothie from me today on his break. He's chill."

Yumi scoffed. "He just challenged Bakugo to a game."

Sero laughed. "I take that back. Bro's got zero chill."

"He challenged Bakugo?!" Kiri asked, unbelieving. "This guy must be pretty good."

Kaminari chuckled wickedly. "I gotta see this."

~.~

Izuku and Shinsou watched from the sidelines, blown away as Bakugo and Ojiro both got strike after strike.

"He's amazing!" Izuku whispered. "How long has he been bowling?"

"Seventy-six minutes," Shinsou answered.

" WHAT?!"

"Keep your eyes on me, Nerd!" Bakugo snapped, shooting his boyfriend a dark, sensual look.

Izuku squirmed and looked away. "Got it," he mumbled as a blush crept up his face.

Shinsou rolled his eyes. "Why do you let him yell at you like that?"

Izuku smiled to himself. "I don't mind it," he said softly. But with the blissful expression on his face, Shinsou could tell what he was actually saying was, "I like it."

"So you don't bowl, either?"

"Not really. I play on the arcade machines and eat the food," he said. "Katsuki's the one who likes to bowl."

Shinsou crossed his arms. "So you just sit here bored while he bowls for an hour?"

Izuku grinned wide as he stared at his boyfriend. "Yeah, I sit here and watch...but I wouldn't say I'm bored."

Shinsou raised an eyebrow, confused until he looked forward himself.

From where he sat, he got an amazing view of Ojiro's shoulders. Back muscles, His...

Midoriya might be onto something, he thought, resting his chin on his hand so his mouth wouldn't fall open.

"I could really go for a tootsie pop right now," he muttered so quietly, Shinsou almost didn't hear him.

"Hey, guys!" Kirishima called.

In the middle of Bakugo's throw, he got distracted and his ball ended up in the gutter. "DAMMIT!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry, man," Kiri said, wincing. "Did I startle you?"

Shinsou noted the sudden blush on Bakugo's face with surprise as he cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Whatever. I'm hungry anyway."

"Bout time he fucking fed me," Izuku snapped, jumping up from his seat.

Shinsou shook his head. Those two are so weird.

"So you're giving up?" Ojiro asked with a smirk.

Bakugo froze.

Everyone waited with bated breath.

Bakugo shot a wicked grin over his shoulder. "Give me a damn ball."

All the boys hooted and hollered.

"HELL YEAH!" Kaminari exclaimed.

"Show 'em how it's done, Bakugo!" Kiri yelled.

Bakugo slowly pulled back his arm, glaring down the lane. Then with a growl, he threw it. "DIIIIEEEEEE!"

Everyone cheered as he got a perfect strike in less than two seconds.

Izuku excitedly ran into his arms. Bakugo scooped him up with one arm and carried him off to sit at a table. His boyfriend happily curled up in his lap and laid his head on Bakugo's shoulder. "You've got one more turn before the game is over," Bakugo said snidely. "Good luck."

Ojiro gave a respectful bow and picked up the ball Bakugo used when it came back. Before he made a move to throw it, he turned and looked at Shinsou. "Shinsou-san."

He put his hands in his pockets and walked over. "Yeah?"

"After this, I would like to take you out for dinner and drinks."

Shinsou's heart raced. You're doing it wrong, mountain-man. You're supposed to be asking the cute girl in the pink dress. Or at the very least a main character. I'm barely the supporting cast. I'm just...broom boy. "I shouldn't."

Ojiro glanced and Bakugo, then back and Shinsou. "I'm about to do something I shouldn't do either."

Shinsou looked up at him curiously. "What are you talking about?"

He leaned down to Shinsou's ear and whispered, "You'll see."

Ojiro clutched the ball in his palms, gazing forward more intensely than any of the other times before.

But something was off.

Shinsou narrowed his brows, trying to find what it was. His form was fine. He stood straight in front of the lane, perfectly in position. But...

Shinsou gasped when he realized.

He's not looking at the pins. His head was tilted up but his eyes were looking down. What the hell is he doing?

Ojiro pulled his arm back. Thrust it forward. Let go of the ball.

Shinsou flinched when he heard a crack. The ball splintered and burst into hand-sized chunks before it made it halfway down the lane. Everyone stared with open mouths and wide eyes, speechless.

He...Shinsou paled, barely breathing. He broke...the ball.

He didn't even know that was possible.

Ojiro walked in front of Bakugo and bowed. "Congratulations. Looks like you won."

Bakugo looked at the pile of ceramic chunks on the ground, and the man in front of him. Promptly, he stood up and pulled Izuku along with him.

He turned his back on Ojiro and spoke. "Meet me here next Saturday for a rematch...Ojiro."

Kiri clapped him on the back. "That was awesome."

Kaminari shot him two big thumbs up. "You're insane. We should hang, sometime."

"See you later, Shinsou!" Izuku called, intertwining his fingers with Bakugo's.

Shinsou watched them go, raising an eyebrow when he saw two people who looked an awful lot like Yumi and Sero spying on them from behind a Galaga machine. But they ducked back behind it, so he wasn't sure.

"That ball will probably come out of my first paycheck," Ojiro said remorsefully. "But I'd pay it a thousand times over to see that look on his face." He smirked with satisfaction.

Shinsou looked up at him. "You knew it was going to break. Didn't you?"

"I knew it could," Ojiro admitted. "With enough force."

He shook his head in disbelief. "But...how did you..."

" - I heard it crack as he threw it during his last turn. When I picked it up to check, I felt a fracture. I made sure to throw the ball in the same place to split it."

Shinsou flushed. I probably couldn't throw a frisbee and he broke a bowling ball with his bare hands.

With those same hands, Ojiro gently picked up one of Shinsou's and rested it in his palm. His gaze was warm and his smile kind. "Do you still think you shouldn't come to dinner with me?"

Absolutely. Even more so than I did before. There isn't one part of this whole thing that isn't a bad idea. But...

With strong, hardened hands

he crushes mountains and men

and holds mine, like air

I want to. "Yes. Let's go."

~.~

Towards closing, there weren't very many people in Dave & Buster's. Just a few stragglers hanging out at the bar, a couple playing Ski Ball, and four very nosey mall employees.

"Why are we doing this again?" Sero asked.

Sero, Yumi, Dabi, and Keigo all sat together in a booth three tables down from Ojiro and Shinsou. They themselves shared a plate of nachos and a couple lagers.

"I'm getting that goddamn raise," Yumi whispered, watching them intently with Yamada's polaroid ready.

Dabi yawned. "They aren't even doing anything," he said.

"They're talking," Keigo said, gazing at them just as intently as Yumi. "That's something."

"But she needs a kiss, right? I don't think it's gonna happen," Dabi insisted.

Sero rubbed his eyes. "I'm beat, beautiful. Are you sure - "

" - I'm not leaving without that picture."

"I'm tired too," Dabi complained. "Keigo, baby, can we please - "

" - I wanna see them kiss."

Dabi groaned exasperatedly, laying his head over the edge of the booth. "We're not even getting paid for this."

Yumi smirked. "If you help me, I'll pay you in handcuffs."

Dabi immediately sat upright with bright eyes and a wide smile. "I accept this arrangement."

Keigo flushed bright red. "I don't!"

"Shhh!' Yumi snapped, smacking Keigo's arm.

Sero sighed. "I'm sure you'll have opportunities to get a raise - "

" - Mr. Yamada said, and I quote, come back empty-handed, and you're fired."

Keigo, Dabi, and Sero all exchanged looks. Then silently they all pulled out their phones and opened their camera apps.

~.~

Shinsou decided he would enjoy this for as long as he could. It's only a matter of time before he figures out I'm not what he wants. He just doesn't know it yet cuz he's new. But then he'll meet the main cast and realize he dodged a bullet with broom boy.

"What would you like? I'll go up and order," Ojiro said.

Shinsou shrugged. "What are you getting?"

He smiled. "The steak sounds good. And a Heineken."

Shinsou tensed. I should've realized he'd get alcohol since there's a bar.

Despite the fact he'd been of drinking age for five months, he'd never touched the stuff. The third orphanage he lived in had been run by a man who held a fondness for it. But Shinsou wasn't too fond of the person he became once he had it in his system.

He arrived at the next orphanage with a black eye and a broken arm.

"Shinsou-san?" Ojiro asked, looking concerned.

He snapped back to the present, projecting an aura of nonchalance. "I'll do the guac and a water."

Ojiro frowned. "But that's just a side."

"I'm not feeling all that hungry," Shinsou admitted. It was the truth. In fact, he felt pretty nauseous now.

"I'm paying for dinner," Ojiro insisted. "So really, please get what you'd like. Are there any drinks that look good to you?"

Shinsou wordlessly shook his head, averting his eyes.

Ojiro's gaze darted from Shinsou's face to the untouched cocktails menu. "Are you sure? You haven't taken a look yet."

He nodded, once again silent.

The blonde's eyes widened. "You don't drink," he realized out loud.

Shinsou shook his head. "No." He still wasn't looking at him. Dammit. I thought I was over this, he thought.

His parents drank at home. When they'd first adopted Shinsou, they had a mini bar in the dining room. That quickly changed when the very sight of it made him burst into tears. After that, he refused to go in there for meals. When his parents had drinks with dinner, Shinsou would declare he wasn't hungry and quickly lock himself in his room and refuse to come out. After a week of this, he woke up one day to find that the minibar had disappeared. His dads built a bar for themselves and placed it in a freshly sound-proofed basement. When they had alcohol, they made sure to do it after he'd already gone to bed, and when there were guests, his parents made them do the same.

No one at work knew his birthday. If one of his supervisors cared to know, they could easily look it up on his job application but to his knowledge, they didn't. So no one knew he was of drinking age. Which meant he didn't get invited out for drinks with everyone else. He'd done everything in his power to avoid it. After a while, he forgot it bothered him so much.

Until he went out on dates.

Ojiro gently took Shinsou's hand, rubbing his thumb over it. "You're trembling," he noted with knit brows.

Shinsou smiled and laughed. "Just cold," he promised. "They always crank the AC too high in places like this."

He immediately felt stupid for saying it. Who the hell has the AC running in November? It was a lame excuse, and he could tell Ojiro saw right through it.

Shinsou's heart threatened to burst out of his chest when Ojiro, ever so slowly, raised Shinsou's hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss.

"Please forgive me, Shinsou-san, if I've done anything to offend you."

He swallowed nervously. What's wrong with me? Why can't I come up with a joke or witty retort?All he could think about was the way Ojiro looked at him. How his hand felt against Ojiro's lips. "You didn't."

"I must have," he said remorsefully. "You're so pale."

Shinsou smiled. "I always am."

Ojiro glanced at the drinks menu again, pensive. "I think I'll pass on the Heineken after all."

It was as if some invisible force had been crushing his stomach and finally let go. "In that case...maybe I'll do a salad."

~.~

"Got it," Yumi whispered, stowing away the Polaroid.

"I mean...it was a hand kiss. Will that count?" Sero asked.

Yumi grinned. "He never said it had to be a lip-kiss."

Keigo scowled. "You seriously need to stop getting your way with that loophole," he complained.

She shook the photo with a smirk. "Maybe someday people will learn to be more specific."

Dabi stretched and got up, throwing Keigo over his shoulder.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Keigo exclaimed.

"We're going."

"But - "

" - It's time to give them some privacy."

"Dabs - "

" - Hey, Yumi, you wouldn't happen to have any handcuffs on you, would - "

" - OKAY FINE!"

~.~

"You run a dojo?" Shinsou asked, surprised as he ate his salad.

"My parents do," Ojiro said, chewing on a piece of steak. "But I help teach the younger ones." He smiled, shaking his head. It's still so strange to be called sensei."

Shinsou raised an eyebrow. "What does it mean?"

"Teacher," Ojiro explained. "They say sensei or Mashirao-sensei. I think in English you call that an honorific."

Like...nicknames? "What are they for?"

"It's a way of showing respect."

Shinsou flushed. "Is that why you call me Shinsou-san?"

Ojiro nodded, smiling. "Yes, exactly. In English, it means Mr. Shinsou."

Shinsou laughed. "That's so formal, though."

He chuckled. "Oh? Too formal?"

"Maybe," he admitted. "Shinsou isn't my real last name anyway, it's just a pen name."

"Oh, I see. What would you like me to call you?"

This is a bad idea, he thought. I shouldn't be getting close like this. "Hitoshi, I guess."

His eyes seemed to dance with happiness. "I'd like that very much."

Suddenly Ojiro was looking at him the same way he did before, when he helped Shinsou pull off his sweater. Like he wanted to kiss him.

Do it, I dare you

Let me taste you on my tongue

Kiss me, kiss me, please

Shinsou flushed as his phone went off on the table. "I...I'm sorry, I - "

" - Go ahead, I don't mind," Ojiro murmured with half-lidded eyes.

Dammit. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I'm sure it's important."

Shinsou stared down at the caller I.D. Fumikage. He answered. "Hey."

"Evening. Are you on your way?"

What? "To...what?"

"Oh, I see. You've forgotten."

"Uhh..."

"The poetry slam."

Shinsou gasped. Oh, shit. "I...dammit, I'm so sorry - "

" - Is everything alright?"

"Y-yeah. Um...I was asked out on a date by, um...Ojiro - "

" - Mashirao," Ojiro softly corrected.

Shinsou blushed redder. "I...I mean Mashirao. We're having dinner, but I can - "

" - No, no, pleasedo not concern yourself. Enjoy your meal. I hope things fare well with Mashirao."

"Thanks."

Tokoyami hung up.

"What happened?" Ojiro asked.

Shinsou sighed. "I completely forgot about a poetry slam I was supposed to go to with a friend."

Ojiro gasped. "You write poetry?"

Shinsou shook his head. "I don't write anything down. But I perform it a few nights a week at slams."

Ojiro's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "It's a shame you don't write them out. I would've loved to read some."

Shinsou smiled sadly. "I only do that when I'm throwing them away."

"That's awful! Why would you ever throw them away?"

Because they torture me and keep me from sleeping. "So I can get them out of my head. Declutter."

He grinned. "I think I know what you mean. Judo does the same for me. Helps me clear my mind."

Clear your mind? He wondered. But your life must be perfect. You're an attractive, athletic mysterious guy from overseas who could pick any person he wanted. What could you possibly have to be stressed out about?

"It's the only thing that's managed to take my mind off of the move," he said, suddenly looking sad.

Shinsou blinked, surprised. "You...you miss Japan?"

"Of course," he said, poking at his steak with a fork absently. "I didn't come here by choice. My parents were presented with a business opportunity. A chance to open up their own dojo. It's what they've dreamed of for so long, so... here I am."

"Couldn't you have stayed behind?"

He smiled sadly. "It would've broken my mother's heart. I understand how important this is for them, so I just...need to adjust, that's all."

Wow, Shinsou thought. He sacrificed his own happiness so his parents could live their dream. A person like that definitely deserves better than me. It's selfish to waste his time like this. He could be out there finding someone who can actually make him happy.

"You've made the move easier, too."

Shinsou gasped sharply as his heart pounded. "W-what?"

Ojiro smiled. "Yes. I've been having so much fun, today. I completely forgot about missing home. Bowling with you and your friends, talking to you about your poetry, and my Judo...it made me forget I felt lonely, Hitoshi."

Despite himself, Shinsou flushed with happiness. "I'm glad I tripped, then."

He laughed. "You looked so scared, I thought I'd hurt you."

Shinsou blushed red. "N-no, you didn't hurt me, I was just...I dunno."

"Good. After you left and never came back, I was afraid you hated me."

Shinsou chuckled. Hate you? Why would I hate you? You're literally a god in human form. Perfect in every way.

Tall, blonde, and smokin'

just as Keigo described you

As well as gentle

"You write haiku?" Ojiro asked excitedly.

Shinsou paled. Oh my god. Not only is he perfect, he can also read minds. I'm doomed.

He laughed harder. "You were counting on your fingers."

I do that? Shinsou thought. I didn't even realize.

He held his hands out to demonstrate. "You counted five. Then seven. Then five."

Shinsou shrugged. "Guilty as charged," he admitted.

"What was your haiku about?"

You, and your perfect body, he thought involuntarily. He cleared his throat. "Oh, uh...nothing...really..."

"I wish you would tell me. I'm sure you're an amazing poet," Ojiro said warmly. "I'd love to hear one someday."

Shinsou grinned. I know one I can tell him. "Well...this one I composed this morning." He cleared his throat. "Robbing me of sleep. You act as though you're starving. Damn you hungry beasts."

Ojiro's jaw dropped. "Whoa. That's...intense."

Shinsou burst out laughing. "It's about my cats."

Once he understood, Ojiro laughed too. So hard his eyes watered. "I think that's my new favorite."

Shinsou beamed, barely able to hear Ojiro's words over the pounding of his own heart.

I think you're my new favorite, too.

~.~

"Huh?" Shinsou thought out loud when they got to the parking lot.

"What's wrong, Hitoshi?" Ojiro asked.

"My...my car's gone."

Ojiro gasped. "Could it have been stolen?"

Shinsou laughed to cover up his anxiety. "If someone's desperate enough to steal a ninety-nine ford contour, they can have it."

At that moment, his phone rang again. "Dad?" he mumbled. He accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, sound byte!" Yamada said. "Sorry for jacking your ride, It was an emergency."

Shinsou flushed. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine!"

He blinked, confused. "Um...okay. But...what was the emergency?"

"Oh it doesn't matter," Yamada said. "The point is you don't have your car and you need a ride home."

Shinsou shook his head. The hell? What's gotten into everyone lately? First Dadzawa giving me that weird errand...

That he completely forgot about until that moment.

Dammit. And now Yamadad taking my car without asking or explaining why. Ugh.

"Do you need a ride?" Ojiro asked. "I don't mind taking you home."

Shinsou stared at his phone as if it were Yamadad. There's no way...he did this on purpose...right? So that...Mashirao would have to -

"Please, let me drive you," he insisted. "It's very cold."

Shinsou sighed. It was almost one in the morning. The buses weren't running anymore. Getting an uber would be a bitch and a half. And it would be another fifteen minutes for one of his parents to come get him, assuming he could even get Dadzawa out of bed.

He swallowed nervously, gazing up at Ojiro.

Frozen where I stand

As your eyes bore into mine

Warm me in your arms

He nodded.

~.~

It just wasn't fair. Everything Ojiro did was hot. The way he leaned back and looked over his shoulder when he was pulling out of the parking space. The firm, sudden way he took the car out of park and put it in drive. Best of all, how he buckled Shinsou in when he himself forgot because he'd been too busy staring at the sexy, blonde, muscular -

"Are you warm enough?" Ojiro asked as he cranked the heat up.

I could be warmer

I'm cold but you make me hot

Jesus Christ, touch me

"Hitoshi?"

I know I'm not the main character, he thought. But I can't take it anymore. In the cramped, tight space of Ojiro's car, their bodies were so close. Their faces only inches apart. It would be so easy to steal a kiss.

So he did.

Shinsou pressed his face into the side of Ojiro's and kissed his jaw, then pulled away and looked out his window with bright red cheeks, feeling hot.

He couldn't even hear Ojiro breathe.

"Hitoshi?" he whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt.

His heart raced. "Y-yes?" he asked hoarsely.

"May I call you Hito-kun?"

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. "What does it mean?"

"Hito has several meanings," he said softly, "But if I were to write it out, I would use the kanji for gentle. And kun is an honorific for someone close to you."

"Gentle?" Shinsou asked, flushing redder.

"Yes," he whispered, leaning closer. "Like your kiss."

Shinsou turned to him in surprise, not expecting Ojiro to take it so well. Then gave a small, shy nod.

Ojiro nuzzled their noses together, making Shinsou's eyes fall shut.

I like him, he thought. I really really like him.

"May I kiss you, Hito-kun?" he asked, tickling Shinsou's face with his breathing.

His heart soared. The word was out before he could stop it. "Please," he begged.

He kissed him softly, as if Shinsou were delicate. Breakable. Precious.

Shinsou kissed him back, his mind shutting off as he lost himself in it. He forgot he was just broom boy. That he could never hope to play a role in this story. A role that allowed him to stand beside a man like Ojiro. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to be selfish. If only for a moment.

All too soon it ended. But he gave Shinsou a kiss on his cheek before pulling away.

"Hito-kun," he whispered, resting his forehead against Shinsou's. "May I please see you again?"

We keep tempting fate

Doing things we shouldn't do

But I can't say no

"Yes," he whispered, leaning forward and stealing another kiss. Ojiro deepened it, cupping the sides of Shinsou's face in his palms.

I can't get enough

Of this feeling you give me

Your lips feel like home

~.~

"You're back pretty late," Aizawa said.

Shinsou got in the door, flushed and breathless to find all the lights on and both of his parents away. Yamada squealed over a little polaroid picture while he sat in his armchair. But the photo faced away from him, so Shinsou couldn't see what it was.

"Sorry," Shinsou said. "I didn't mean to worry you guys."

"It's fine," Aizawa said, sounding relaxed. "We're glad you're home."

"Did you bring anyone home with you?" Yamada asked, bouncing up and down like a little kid. Well...like Eri.

His seven-year-old sister.

Shinsou cleared his throat. "What? No. I...no."

"Did you take care of that errand I gave you?" Aizawa asked.

Shinsou winced, scratching the back of his hair. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot." I forgot a lot of things today.

Aizawa shrugged. "That's okay. I booked it online."

Shinso gawked at his father in disbelief. Are you kidding me?! So I walked into Dave & Buster's for nothing?! If I'd never had to go there, I wouldn't have -

He scowled. "You did this on purpose."

"Hmm? Did what?" Aizawa asked, feigning oblivion.

Played like a fiddle

By my own fucking parents

Goddamn matchmakers

"Nothing," he grumbled, stomping to his room. "Good night."

After he slammed his door, Yamada and Aizawa looked at each other, sharing satisfied smirks and a high-five.