ficlet; 009: morning after
pairing: aizawa kosaku/shiraishi megumi
word count: 888 words
note: Another ficlet featuring somewhat drunk!Shiraishi.

Shiraishi woke up to a slight ray of sunlight streaming in through her curtains. She blinked, feeling just a little bit disorientated, still feeling the effects of the alcohol she had yesterday. They were celebrating Hiyama's engagement, and she had been so happy for Hiyama and Ogata-san. She cheerily took every single drink handed to her by the bride-to-be, and then she must have drunk more than she could handle. Again.

Still half asleep, she sat up, wincing as a dull pain throbbed throughout her head. Rubbing the side of her head, her gaze drifted to the floor, landing on her crumpled blouse, and her slacks lying not far away. She looked down, and then she realised that she wasn't wearing anything. She frowned, her brain rewinding itself.

She remembered stumbling out of Mary Jane's bar, feeling extremely giddy and happy, hugging Hiyama and laughing a lot. She then vaguely remembered a conversation about sharing a cab (because they were all more or less drunk), and Hiyama had shoved her and Aizawa into a cab together, because they were going the same direction. They had reached her apartment first, and she had nearly fallen over getting out of the cab…and then she remembered Aizawa getting out of the cab and grabbing her arm, muttering something about her always drinking more than she could and should. She had reacted to that by saying something snappy back at him – though she forgot what she had said.

And then he had kissed her. Or maybe she was the one who kissed him. And then…Shiraishi gasped and placed her hand over her mouth as all her memories came flooding back to her in a rush. Them stumbling into her apartment together, into her bedroom, and she had pushed Aizawa down towards her bed, straddling him as he took off her blouse…

Oh my god, she thought, as colour flooded into her face, along with the recollection of the more…explicit details of everything else that had transpired between them. Frantically, she looked beside her, to see only rumpled sheets, and nothing else.

Aizawa was gone. His clothes were gone, too.

She stared at the empty spot beside her, as feelings of embarrassment, disappointment and hurt rushed through her. Hurt, mostly, if she could be truthful to herself. Yes, it was awkward, but they were both drunk, and she honestly thought their friendship meant more than this. How could he just leave like this? How was she supposed to act around him, when she sees him at work later? Pretend this never happened? Probably she would have to, since he just left, without a word.

If he was going to be flippant and casual about this, as if it didn't mean anything, as if it changed nothing, then she would just react accordingly. But she truly expected him to acknowledge this, drunken mistake or not.

Swallowing her emotions, Shiraishi reached out and grab her robe, slipping it on. Taking a hot shower would make her feel better, she thought. As she was about to step into her bathroom, she heard a sound outside her bedroom, and she froze. Cautiously, tightening her robe around herself, she opened the bedroom door, and walked out.

Aizawa was in her kitchen, his hair slightly rumpled but he was fully dressed, as he stood at the kitchen counter, his arms crossed, his eyes on the kettle. There were two mugs beside the kettle, as well as her coffee canister.

He looked up as she approached. "Good morning," he said calmly. "I took the liberty of making coffee, I hope that's all right."

She just stared at him, as relief flooded over her. He didn't leave; he was still here, and she didn't quite know what to say. The kettle whistled, and he turned his attention back into towards it, making two mugs of coffee and placing one in front of her.

As he sipped his coffee, eyeing her over the rim of his mug, he frowned a little, taking in her wide-eyed stare. "Shiraishi," he put down his mug. "Are you all right?"

Without thinking, she blurted out the first thought in her mind. "I thought you left."

He tipped his head, looking at her. "You thought I left," he echoed. "You actually thought I'd just leave, without saying anything to you?"

Shiraishi averted her eyes guiltily, her cheeks burning, as she coughed awkwardly.

"Is that how you really think of me?" His tone was mild, but knowing him as well as she did, she heard the veneer of hurt beneath his words.

She cleared her throat, fiddling with her mug. "I don't know what to think," she answered honestly. "Yesterday was…well…we didn't, at least, I didn't mean for…and I don't know what you're thinking," her words came out in a rush. "Maybe it was nothing to you, for all I…"

"Shiraishi," he interrupted. "It wasn't nothing. It isn't nothing."

Her heart thudded, as she looked up at him. Aizawa leaned forward, and he rested his hand against her cheek, his touch gentle. "Is this okay?" He asked quietly, his eyes clearly saying there was a lot more to the question that he was asking her.

Shiraishi could feel a smile spreading across her face, as she placed her hand on top of his. "Yes," she said. "Yes, it's okay."

A/N: Someday, I'll write a drunk!Shiraishi who is not romantically aggressive/does not accost Aizawa at any chance she gets, hahaha.

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