The quiet whistle of the wind blowing outside.

The rattle of the screens in the windows.

The brush of the eraser moving over the chalkboard to rub away the words on it.

Hizashi hummed quietly to himself as he dragged the eraser over his chalk board with the wind whistling outside causing him to glance over. Flurrying snowflakes swirled against the windows where the screens trembled lightly. He shuddered at the light draft to the room when he turned his gaze back to his task at hand. Sliding the eraser over his chalkboard to clear it off for the remainder of the lesson, his boots tapped lightly over the floor. It was painfully quiet in the class room.

It made the room feel bigger. Huffing out, he leaned up to swipe at the words closer to the top of the board. It was hard to comprehend that this was almost over. That he was going to be closing out on his teaching sooner than he realized. It was a bit melancholic. A bit sad. But he had to admit that he'd bitten off more than he realized he did. Having his sons give him the realization that they had last week, he knew he'd taken on too much. But it was a learning experience for him. On how this would work if he did this again.

And he was more than happy that he'd be getting a handsome check from the school when he wrapped up this final week and a half. He was more than excited to go back to how he was. Especially, according to Taishiro, with the popularity increase with his little store. He was more than eager to return to it. And God knows he was ready to wrap up his work here at the school. Even if he had come to think fondly on his students in the two months he'd been subbing. He had to admit he was ready to say goodbye.

To say goodbye to the students. The school. To his coworkers who spent time with him. He couldn't deny that he was going to miss seeing Thirteen and Snipe. Hell, he was going to miss spending time with Yagi, if anything. He knew that they all had his phone number and he was more than willing to hand it out to others before he left. He'd made a nice little friend group with a few teachers and that was more than enough for him. He was happy to have made so many new friends. So many new faces.

Teaching English was a tough task but he couldn't deny that it'd kept him busy for quite a bit. But his time needed to go back to his store. It needed to go back to his sons who were growing up like weeds as they approached their seventh birthdays. Something that he had to begin planning now while he was ahead if he wanted family to take time off from work just to visit them. Working at the school had given him an eye opening experience. About what his life would look like if he had not two but three different jobs.

It was a sobering experience but it was one that he wouldn't change for anything. In the second week of December, he'd dedicated his time to his sons. Dedicated his time to loving, playing, and spending time with Izuku and Hitoshi. Relearning their favorite colors that had changed from the last time he'd talked with them. In dragging them outside where the three of the laughed with the wintery air amplifying their voices. In playing board games inside or letting himself be dragged downstairs.

Pulled into the basement that he'd gotten renovated into a playroom for Hitoshi and Izuku just to play. Spending his time relearning from his boys who were eager to share their little lives with him again. Eager to tell him the dramas of their teachers or their classroom dynamics. He found himself eager to hear about it when most parents would chalk it up to nonsense. To mere babble of hyperactive boys. The dramas circulating around the pair of six-year-olds who had so much to say.

But given how much time he'd lost with them in favor of throwing himself into work it was nice. Hell, he welcomed the conversations with his boys. He welcomed hearing about the changing dynamics of their classrooms. Of their changing friend groups. It was all he wanted to hear as a father and he let them talk to him all damn day. Let them help with dinners or preparing lunches before bed time. If anything, he was happy to have his sons be so eager to share their lives with him.

To play with him. He wanted to play with them as much as he can before they were too big and too mature to play with him. Those years were only a handful of years away; it wouldn't be too long now that they deemed themselves too old to play with their dad. It broke his heart to imagine but it just made him all the more determined to spend time with his sons while he had the chance. Last week had been a chaotic week with his time spent with the boys. Time he cherished more than anything.

Saturday, the Kaminaris', Mitsuki, and Rei had come over much to his delight. It had been so nice to sit at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee in hand while that chattered on. Gossiping. And then, of course, they had turned their attention to his status as a transgender man and tried asking him what his limits were. What he was okay with and what he wasn't. All three open about their desire to learn from him what they possibly could to make things easy for him. And it was so easy to talk to them.

They had agreed that he presented as a man, knew him as man, that it didn't change a damn thing to them. If anything, they seemed defensive at the thought of anyone treating him differently when he hinted at failed friendships in the past over it. It was unbelievably nice to have friends who accepted him so wholeheartedly. He knew that not many people were accepting of transgender people. It could have been so much worse but his relief that his mother group accepted him? It was insubstantial.

Knowing they still viewed him as a single father, a man, was a relief like nothing else. There was a warmth knowing that they saw no difference in who he was now than he was back then. That he was still Hizashi Yamada and there was no changing that. It was heartwarming. While Rei had admitted that her husband might have a problem, it was going to be a well kept secret. That her husband didn't have to know and it had him giggling with her over the sparkle to her gray eyes when she said so.

It had been so unbelievably nice having one weight off of his shoulders. In having one less thing to worry about when it came to his life. After the playdate with Shouto, Katsuki and Denki, he and the boys had decorated the house. He'd been able to keep a close eye on them but they'd gotten the house set up with Christmas lights and decorations together with squeals of delight. Changing their home into a whole different area. Then the boys insisted on doing the outside which they bundled up to get done.

And on Sunday morning, after sleeping in, he made his way to the store with the boys where Taishiro greeted them cheerfully. Then the four of them got to work on changing out old items for the Christmas set up. It was honestly heart warming being able to catch up with Taishiro who had seemed so happy to see him again. He'd been able to do the equivalent of gossiping with Taishiro as they talked. And after decorating the store, Nemuri and Oboro were coming over with lunch for the four of them.

He'd been looking forward too having the couple coming over and the six of them sat down in his break room for lunch. It was there that Hitoshi and Izuku babbled at their aunt and uncle. Happily cuddling up to the woman and man while Izuku had both of them sign his cast again. It was honestly cute seeing all the signatures on Izuku's cast. He knew there'd be more when they inevitably went in at the three month mark to see how the bone was coming along. To get his arm casted again with a new one.

It had been a lovely end to the second week of December and he was more than happy that it had ended that way. If anything, he'd live it again. Upon entering their third week of December, he couldn't tell who was more eager for his work at the school to end; himself or his sons. It was a long two months but he was ready to put it to a close even if he felt a twinge when it came to ending his work here. But he was eager. Excited to return to his old routine that he'd had going back in the summer months.

Back in fall. It was something he was quite honestly looking forward too. He wanted his humble little store and his humble little life again. Tearing himself out of his thoughts, he moved his arm again to finish clearing off the board for the second half of the class when his students returned from their lunch break. The quiet brush of the eraser over the board was loud as he hummed softly to himself the carols that had stuck themselves to his brain. Songs his sons insisted on listening too on the kitchen radio.

His cheerful humming filled the class room as his stomach growled. His lunch was sitting on the desk to the side of him which was calling to him. He glanced over then turned his attention back to the board. Finishing up on the board, he placed his eraser down in the tray before walking towards his desk. He paused when there was a knock on his doors that had him halting in his steps when he glanced over his shoulder curiously only to beam at the man standing there.

Shouta looked nice in his pale cream sweater, a black scarf curled around his shoulders and dark jeans. He looked very nice in his opinion. Black curl spilled over that scarf wildly that brushed at pink cheeks. He looked warm in a way that had his heart fluttering when he brushed his hands off again. He tried not to gawk at the black-haired man who was rocking on his heels before forcing himself forward. Boots tapping on the floor when he smiled at his friend hesitating in the doorway. ⭐

"Sho! What honor do I have to have you by my room?"" He questioned when he rocked back on his heels with his hands rubbing themselves free of any chance of chalk on his hands. His stomach twisted with a quiet growl that had him biting his inner cheek. He really wanted to eat while he had the chance but there was a look pinching at Shouta's face as he glanced at the chalkboard then at him. "Come in and shut the door! Do you need to talk about something? Or did you want to join me for lunch?"

The black-haired man stepped into the room hesitantly; stepping in with his head scanning the empty desk with the open work books on them. Looking it over before those dark eyes were flicking back to him as Shouta made his way over to the podium. His tongue darting out as he licked his lips when the black-haired man raised his hands up to tuck his hair behind his ears before speaking. "There's an offer for you. The teachers, Snipe, Thirteen, Yagi, and Kan are all going out for drinks. We've both been invited."

"Drinks? Like, at a bar?" He questioned with his hands swiping over his pants to rid them of the chalk. This was new. He'd heard a few jokes from other teachers about happy hour, but he'd never been invited. Well, no, that'd be a lie, wouldn't it? He'd been invited by Thirteen once, but he had his sons to think about that time. He'd rejected but promised another time. He tilted his head at Shouta who slid his hands into his pockets with his thumbs poking out. "Why are they inviting me out again?"

"They wanted to throw a little get together before you leave. And with Christmas being a week and a half away now, they wanted to send you off properly given that we won't be meeting before break, you know?" Shouta glanced at his chalkboard with the smudged chalk over it before rocking back on his heels with thumbs wiggling slightly. "Would you- I mean, do you even want to go to this? You don't have to if you don't want to, Zashi. If it makes you uncomfortable then say so, yeah?"

"Ah, a little party to get rid of my annoying ass, huh? I don't think that'd be too bad to go to! I can handle a drink or two, honestly!" Shifting slightly, he shivered at the light breeze that ran down his back when he curled his arms up around his chest. Hugging himself when he grinned at the black-haired man who was looking at him with a look of worry pinching at his face. "I can drink in moderation so don't look so worried, yeah? I'll be fine! I think I'll splurge on an Uber tonight, so I don't drive!"

Dark eyes flicked away from him then with thumbs wiggling again as Shouta shifted. His boots tapping over the linoleum tiles when he stepped closer to him with eyes flicking back at him with that look of worry on his face. He was close enough that the light waft of his cologne made it to him. Musky vanilla. It had his stomach fluttering when Shouta licked his lips again before speaking. "Are you sure? I don't mind being a designated driver for the night for the both of us. If anything, let me worry about the Uber."

"Oh, Sho, you don't gotta do that! Let's both have fun tonight, yeah? The maximum I'll drink is two! Maybe a handful of shots! But I shouldn't get black out drunk like I would on three glasses of wine!" He grinned when Shouta merely tilted his head at him with a hesitance to him when he fought the urge to reach out. To touch those pink cheeks and cup his face. To slid his thumbs over his cheekbones. An urge that had his hands twitching. His arms tightening over his chest. "I'll be fine, Shouta, I promise."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to accept it because you feel like it's a pity move or your pressured too. I know asking a single, busy father to go to a bar isn't the smartest move, but the others don't know. I do." His heart skipped at the way the black-haired man said it. At the implication. And it had Shouta blinking before coughing as he ducked his head down when that blush began crawling onto his cheeks. "Just- If you don't wanna go then that's okay. You don't have too if you don't want too."

Watching that red blush smother itself over Shouta's cheeks, the faint scent of his cologne, he tightened his arms over his chest. The urge to hug the black-haired man was overwhelming but he bit it back; there was a time and place. Now was not that place. He stuffed his hands into his armpits with fingers squeezing to his palms tightly. "I want too, Sho! I'm not gonna go back and forth on this, I'm going whether you like it or not! I'm an adult man not a child, I can choose whether I wanna go or not, you know!"

Teeth dragged over that full bottom lip with brows squeezing together when the black-haired man wavered on his feet slightly. And then Shouta stepped forward to close the gap with his cologne coming with him. Vanilla. God, it was so good. It was such a good, fitting scent. He could even detect the bite of coffee when Shouta's hands slid out of his pocket with hands coming up to twist into his hair. "Are you sure? Are you really sure you want to go and drink, Zashi? What about the boys?"

"The boys can either be watched by Nem and Oboro or they can spend the night with them! Look, I really do appreciate you being so concerned but if I thought something might go wrong, I wouldn't say yes to this, Sho." Black brows squeezed together when he uncurled his arms from his chest with his hands reaching out. Placing themselves on those broad shoulders, he couldn't stop himself from squeezing when he smiled softly. "It's a nice send off. One I appreciate. Celebrate with me, won't you?"

"You're dead set on going then? Nothing will change your mind?" He nodded then shook his head at the black-haired man who frowned ever so slightly before sighing out when he squeezed at his shoulders. God, they were so broad. Strong. It had him pulling his hands away when Shouta took a step back with his boots tapping over the floor lightly. He shoved his hands into his pockets to fight that desire to touch him again. "Alright. I won't stop you from going, like you said you're an adult man. You can make your own choices."

"If you're worried or-or nervous how about we come up with a plan, huh? Why don't you take the Uber home back to my place and we can spend time together? Or you can stay just long enough for me to be dropped off and you can head home, and I'll cover the cost?" He shifted with his hands fidgeting in his pockets when the black-haired man blinked at him with a sparkle of curiosity to him. His stomach growled then with an intensity that had heat gathering in the back of his neck.

"I think that might be smart but don't worry about the Uber cost, yeah? I can cover it. Even if it is just to walk you in, give you water and pills, I don't mind doing that. After all, that's what a good friend does, right?" He couldn't help grinning at the black-haired man who grinned back at him before stepping backwards then walking backwards cautiously. "Well, if that's how it'll be just let me know how it goes with the boys tonight and we'll put together a better plan after school, yeah? For now, I'll let you eat your lunch so you're not starving."

"I appreciate it! But we'll definitely talk more after work, and I'll let you know the situation with the boys." Reaching a hand out of his pocket, he scratched at the back of his neck that burned when he rocked back on his own heels before turning to step halfway to his desk when Shouta grinned before spinning on his feet. Walking back to his classroom doors quickly with half curled locks swaying against his back when he touched the edge of the desk. "Thanks for telling me, Sho."

"Of course. I couldn't let the guest of honor not be invited to his own outing. Especially when you look like you wanna go." The black-haired man looked over his shoulder at him with that grin widening on full lips, yet his brows still squeezed together with worry no doubt. He wanted to rub away those wrinkles between his brows. He wants to tug Shouta close and promise that all would be fine tonight. That nothing bad was going to happen. And yet his stomach fluttered airily before churning. Nothing bad would happen.

Right?


"Cheers!"

Hizashi felt liquid run down his fingers at the harsh clash of cup against his own when he laughed with Thirteen who lifted her glass upwards to gulp at the liquid. Following in suit, he found himself chugging the bitter liquid that was his beer. Gulping it down when he felt a thin rivulet run down his chin. His cheeks throbbed lightly with a flush that refused to dissipate when he lowered his glass down to take a gasping breath. Rubbing at his wet lips and chin with good natured laughter around him.

He was floating. Swimming. Drowning. It was hard to explain the rush he felt but God knows it was one that he hadn't felt in a long time. He'd had scotch in his system, and he's been faintly tipsy after two glasses of wine but tonight was different. Tonight, he was on his second pitcher of beer which had his head swaying weightlessly. He had the faint sweet tracings of a whipped cream vodka shot that had been handed to him after his first pitcher. He knew it wasn't smart. He knew it wasn't ideal.

But there was something so nice about losing himself in a conversation with those around him when he was dragged into one. He held his medium sized pitcher of alcohol to his chest. He was warm. Hot. It was hard to recall a damn thing outside of his core that felt like a bubbling, raging spot that was fed with each gulp he took of his cup. He swayed idly in his seat with a low hum to himself with his fingers tracing the rim of his glass clumsily. It had been easy getting Nemuri to take the boys to hers for the night.

Hitoshi and Izuku were happy to go over for a sleep over for the first time in a long time. He was happy to have the house to himself with Nemuri's promise to drop them off tomorrow afternoon. He hadn't had the chance to freely drink since he was a young twenty-year-old who would accept drink after drink at the bar. Not quite an alcoholic but he hadn't allowed himself to drink that heavily after waking in the backseat of a car with a woman sprawled over his chest.

Not a memory of where his wallet had been or his pants. He'd cleaned up after he adopted Hitoshi but when was the last time, he let himself be free? When was the last time he let himself drink like this? It was hard to remember, but he found it very nice. He was capping himself at two drinks, as he had told the rest of the table, and he wasn't what he'd call drunk. Not by a long shot, but he was tipsier than he'd been in years. He was buzzing.

He was halfway through his second glass, but he knew he'd be in a stupor if he had more than this. He was having the time of his life with the teachers around him that chattered on about their classes. Their workloads and the paperwork that was waiting for them at home. He found himself tracing the rim of his glass again with clumsy fingers as he continued his idly swaying. Kicking his feet lightly, he wobbled precariously on his stood when he lifted his mug upwards.

Gulping at the bitter liquid that scalded its way down his throat to his stomach. He'd need to get something to eat sooner rather than later if that queasy sensation had anything to say about it. He gulped at the bitter liquid before dropping his mug down to take a few shaking breaths with his head swimming. Spinning. Perhaps sitting on the bar stool was a bad decision but he could always grab a water to sober himself up. He'd need it if he was going to call for an Uber to get home.

He fought the urge to peek out of the corner of his eye. Kept his gaze pointed down before lifting his mug up to drain the remaining swallows of his beer. Placing the empty thing down with a clatter. He traced the rim of his cup with his shaky, clumsy fingers that slipped off when he groaned before leaning forward. Placing his head down on his arms with his hair brushing against his hot cheek. His glasses bunching up awkwardly from the angle as he shut his eyes.

The chatter of his coworkers filled his ears. Filling the bar it seemed. He was swimming in his own head. He was struggling to remain in his seat, but he knew soon enough he'd need to get into a better seat. A booth. Something. With his head down on his arms, it made it easy to ignore the stare that he felt burning into him. The dark eyes that were watching him like a damn hawk from the moment they entered the bar together with a cheerful greeting from their coworkers.

Thirteen had all but rushed over to grab his arm to drag him to the bar playfully. He had then sat next to her with Snipe having raised his glass in greeting. He was happy to be included this time round in the happy hour that his coworkers often talked about. He'd been more than delighted to make his way onto his stool where he'd been handed his first beer. He'd tried milking it for as long as he could with a few shots passed his way that he knocked back.

Tried prolonging it but he inevitably finished his first mug of beer. It had left his head spinning but this second one? Oh, it had him drooping over the bar as his lashes fluttered against his shot cheeks. And this entire time, he'd felt those dark eyes on him. Watching him. Like he was going to swoon any moment. And he hated it but the one time he'd glanced over at the feeling of those eyes he'd been left red faced. Strangely shamed at the way those eyes burned at him intensely.

It had him drowning himself in his drinks that had been passed his way. Now here he was hunched over the bar with his head swimming rather pleasantly. It had him humming to himself as he continued to kick his feet lazily. Continued to sway in his seat idly with his stomach churning from the alcohol there. He hadn't felt this way in years. Hadn't been this content to drown himself in a drink than he was now. He knew he'd have one hell of a damn hang over in the morning, but he didn't mind it.

He didn't mind it one damn bit. He continued to kick his feet lightly in time with the soft music playing in the speakers over head. Trying his best to ignore that burning gaze on him. He knew that Shouta had drunken some, but he more than likely wasn't as tipsy as himself. A drink more and he'd dare say that he would be drunk. He was dancing on that line beautifully and he loved it. God, when was the last time he drank like this? Definitely back before he adopted Hitoshi.

He'd had a glass or two of wine at dinner or a half a glass of bourbon but when did he really drink? He couldn't remember. The sweetness of those shots was forgotten under the bitter taste of the beer as he buried his face into his arms with a quiet hum. Struggling to stay upright in his seat despite burying his hot face away in his arms while Thirteen chatted with Snipe next to him. He couldn't focus on their words, but he was more than content to stay just like this.

He was happy like this, strange as that was to say. He hadn't been in a state like this for years. And he swore he wouldn't go past it. Swore it. But he already felt loose lipped without saying a damn thing. He felt good in his own skin in a way that he hadn't experienced in years. He didn't drink often but tonight he was more than happy to make the exception for the first time in a long time. To go home on his own? To know the house would be empty save for him? It was a rush.

He'd dedicated himself to getting through the rest of his shift at the school. In getting through the final two hours of the day as he continued with his English lesson. He'd been more than happy when he dismissed his class who seemed eager to rush out of the room. From there, he'd tucked himself into his small desk to text Nemuri. Explaining that he had been invited to a happy hour with his coworkers. While she tried to chastise him and fuss of him worriedly, he'd promised he wouldn't overdo it.

And he meant it. He'd assured the dark-haired woman the best that he could over the phone. It had him worried she'd say no. But when he asked if she was willing to watch the boys or have them sleep over, she'd been quick to say yes. If this was the exception, then she'd take Hitoshi and Izuku off of his hands for the night. It was like he'd been given a golden ticket. A chance to mingle with those his age after spending the past week listening to the ins and outs of his sons school drama.

And as much as he adores that, he wanted nothing more than to talk with people his own age. He wants to gossip, chat, and talk all he wants until he is blue in the face. When he'd returned home that afternoon, he'd gone about his usual routine. Gotten himself dressed down in a black sweater and white jeans. Black boots and his red scarf. He'd help pack up both boys with all the essentials they'd need for a sleep over at Nemuri. Kissing cheeks and heads until his sons were somewhat soothed.

Doing so with the promise that he'd see them tomorrow afternoon when Nemuri had shown up to take them. He'd promised once again not to overdo it. That he wouldn't get black out drunk or anything of the sort. He hadn't promised he wouldn't reach that regular drunken state, but he wouldn't let himself black out. He wouldn't let himself get that drunk. From there, he had made sure that he ate a somewhat decent meal of left overs. He knew better than to drink on an empty stomach.

Then he had scheduled the Uber to pick him up around six when they were all planning on meeting at the bar. When he'd shown up, he'd been welcomed by surprised faces of his coworkers. As if they had somehow expected him not to show up. He'd been dragged over by Thirteen where he'd happily stayed in his spot this entire time. How amazing it was to laugh, talk, and gossip with the other staff members. How nice it was with Thirteen beaming at him as if excited by his presence.

Delighted. And he couldn't deny that he'd felt that same delight to be here. To be among people his own age for the first time in God knows how long. He felt a tap on the back of his head that had him turning his head to find Thirteen with three shots before her on the bar. When had she asked for those? He couldn't recall but when he sat up, he had to clutch at the bar when he swayed. Swooning slightly with his head swimming wildly when a hand grabbed his elbow.

A hand shooting out to his lower back. Steadying him. Shaking it off, he reached for a shot glass with two pairs of worried eyes on him, but he merely smiled it off when he lifted the small glass up. Knocking back that sweet tasting shot that burned down his throat to his stomach. A warm path that fanned under his skin when he lowered it down then reached for another shot. Knocking it back in quick succession, the whipped cream flavor was unbearably sweet.

It had him swaying with a hum before letting himself slump forward with his arms coming up for him to rest his head on them. Smiling at the woman beside him, he watched her knock back her shot when he then turned his head. His cheeks throbbed lightly with the heat of the blush burning there. Blinking sluggishly, he looked at Shouta who still had his hand on his lower back. Black brows pinching together tightly with a slight frown on his lips.

A worried expression pinching at his face as he admired the beauty of his friend's face. For months he swore he could not be stunned by Shouta only to be proven wrong. Tonight, his hair was in a half up hair do; loose curls spilling down to rest gently against his shoulders. His bangs and most of the top half tugged into a small ponytail that blended in with those loose curls. His own cheeks were flushed red from his drinks as he held a rather decent sized mug before him.

But that look of worried remained on his face. Black lashes fluttering with a blink as those dark eyes flickered over him worriedly. Staring at him with an intensity that had his stomach fluttering as he watched full lips pinch together into a thin line. Brows squeezing together the longer he looked silently at his friend. Shouta was beautiful. He had not a clue if that was due to the low lighting of the bar or the sway to his head, but he found Shouta so beautiful tonight.

He'd been sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye all night only to find Shouta watching him with that look to him. His eyes consistently on him while he drank himself deeper towards that drunken point. He was in awe of the black-haired man. The sharp cut of his jaw. The arch of his cheekbones. The shape of his nose. The arch of his eyebrows. His forehead. A face that he longed to press his lips too. A face he wanted to hold in his hands and caress cheek bones. To kiss at that face.

To do so until those cheeks were turning a brilliant red beneath his hands. To twist his fingers in his loose curls to tug and pull him closer. To twist himself up against Shouta who would slide his strong arms around his waist. God, he couldn't stop replaying that hug from last week. It was something that lit a flame in him that he hadn't known had been smoldering. The proximity from their hug where he'd buried his face into Shouta's neck.

Where he'd let himself all but melt into his arms that were so strong as they curled around his waist. How his hands had rested on his lower and the middle portion of his back. How good that vanilla cologne smelled as he fought the urge to nuzzle the man. How good it felt to hug him in return. Shouta had a physique that felt so good in his arms when he hugged him. It made him want to throw his arms around the black-haired man. To implement more hugs.

He'd been fantasizing what it'd be like to hug the black-haired man, strange as that was, but the reality was so much better than he thought. He felt like a teenager. Getting all gushy over a damned hug a week ago but he found himself longing for those arms to wrap around him. To hug him again. To have his hands on his back and to rub at him gently. To have Shouta tug him off of his feet while he squealed. To bury his face into those loose black curls that glistened softly in the low lighting of the bar.

Catching the blue and purple neon lights above the bar softly giving his black hair highlights. Dark eyes reflecting the softer lighting of the yellow lighting beneath the hood of the bar. He was beautiful. Half in the blue and purple lighting, half in the soft yellow hues, and he couldn't stop staring. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Shouta even if he wanted to. He was beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. He was always so attractive it was painful but tonight to his swimming mind?

He couldn't imagine a more beautiful man. A more gorgeous sight. It had him gawking shamelessly at his friend who was looking at him with a trace of worry. Why? He felt finer than he could remember being. The sweet taste of the whipped cream vodka lingered on his tongue. He watched in what felt like a daze when Kan passed Shouta a deep red shot. Shouta glanced at him with that look of worry before lifting his shot up to knock it back.

Another shot was passed to the black-haired man which was also knocked backwards. He watched his throat ripple, his Adam's Apple bob, and he admired the sharp angle of his jaw. The way his curls moved with the jerk of his head. He's beautiful. Shouta Aizawa was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen in all of his time. Shouta is it. Beautiful. Stunning. Everything a woman would want to see in a man. Everything a man would want to be. Everything he wants to be.

He knows he's far from the most beautiful man out there, but he was attractive, wasn't he? Why else would Shouta be so kind? Be so nice to him? There was no reason for it, was there? Why had Shouta become his friend? Why had he stuck around so long? Did he have a crush on him? Or could it be pity? Had it been obvious he was lonely when he first talked to Shouta? Is that why he stayed? He found himself frowning slightly when there was a gentle tap on his back.

Turning his gaze from Shouta who was lowering his little glass down, he turned to find two more shots waiting for him. He straightened up with a sharp inhale when he swayed but he held onto the edge of the bar to stay upright. He reached out and in rapid succession, knocked back those sweet tasting shots. God, it was so good. Tasted damn good. Addicting. He'd have to look into getting a bottle of whipped cream flavored vodka to keep at home. Something to break out now and again.

One glass after another dropped to the counter when he grinned at Thirteen with a huff as he then reached his arms up to stretch. Arching his back with a light pop that had him humming softly to himself when he swayed idly side to side. He was moving past his tipsy state into a drunken one. It was nice. Unbelievably a nice how fuzzy his mind felt. How the world felt softer; more like magic. Filled with possibilities. Filled with anything.

And yet he couldn't deny that he was looking forward to crashing when he got home. He'd have to remember to have the trash by his bed and to sleep on his side but that was easy. He could do that any time of the day. Licking his lips for that trace of his sweetness on them, he lifted his hands up to rub his eyes. They felt swollen. Like he was squinting. Were his eyes puffing up? He'd have to ask Shouta when he found the confidence to speak up to him.

He felt strangely intimidated by the black-haired man's gaze being leveled on him the way that it was intermittently. When he first began drinking? His friend had been eyeing him like a damned hawk. He was staring at him with such intensity it left him feeling self-conscious for quite a bit. He hadn't known how to act with those dark eyes leveled on him the way they had been, but he had been able to ignore it. They'd been here for- How long? How long had it been?

Lifting his wrist up, he tapped at his wrist watch to check the time. He'd gotten there at six o'clock and it was nearing nine-thirty. He'd been here for three and a half hours, and he was already falling into that drunkenness. To be fair to himself, he'd drunken two large mugs of alcohol and God knows how many shots he'd had so far. He'd had four so far but how many had he had before? He couldn't remember but he knew it was best to stop it now.

To stop while he was ahead and make sure that he wasn't blacking out. He hummed when he let himself lean forward against the bar with his feet swaying idly. Kicking them lightly with his hands holding onto the edge of it to keep himself from floating away. And then he felt a touch on his lower back. Fingers skimming over it when that hand flattened on his back before sliding up the center of his back. It had him arching against the ticklish sensation it sent through his body.

Patting at him to get his attention when he turned his head lazily to find Shouta staring at him. What did Shouta want? He'd been here a decent chunk and was very much drunk at this point, wasn't he? Was it time to go home? Should he go home? He didn't feel like putting any more liquid into his body, but he'd need it if he wanted to sober up. He'd been ignoring his bladder for close to half an hour now and he was far too dizzy to get off this stool alone.

God knows he wasn't about to take a piss with Shouta there for how would he explain his lowered pants? The use of toilet paper? He couldn't use his funnel that he often used to piss standing up at urinals in private bathrooms which led to him ignoring that need tonight. Ignoring the signals of nausea as he favored another drink. Another shot. It put him in a position but if he left now then he knew he could take care of himself at home.

Humming softly to himself with the chatter of the bar hanging heavily on his ears. The black-haired man patted at his back again when he realized he'd shut his eyes. Forcing his heavy lashes upwards, he stared at the black-haired man who had that hawk-like intensity to his gaze. As if he were peeling him apart layer by layer to his very core. As if he was both staring and not staring at him. There was a fog to Shouta's eyes that had him blinking sluggishly at the black-haired man when he then sighed out.

If Shouta was tipsy and wanted to go home, then he wasn't going to blame him. Hell, if he was going to cut it off here then he was going to head home too. He wanted to go home. He wants to get in his pajamas, take a piss, and go to sleep. He wants to crawl into his bed and sleep while he has a chance. He planned on showing a movie tomorrow, for Friday, for his students while he napped. It was a suggestion by Shouta and the students seemed to take it well.

He had informed them before class let out that tomorrow was a movie day. Swaying in his seat idly with his hair brushing over his back, he drummed his fingers on the bar with a low hum before taking a slow breath in then letting it out. He'd drunk enough. He was spinning. Swaying. Drunk. He was only mildly drunk but drunk nonetheless, which meant it was time to go home. To sleep it off the best he can before six a.m. when he has to get up for work.

It had him groaning lowly in his throat at the thought of getting up so early and teaching all day then going to his radio station late into the night, but he had too. It's not like he could just blow off work when he was the substitute. He'd have to deal with his hang over the best he could. Combat it with Advil, sunglasses, and his coffee. He couldn't explain it but coffee always seemed to help his pounding head. His teas that he would sip at. He'd be on a medley tomorrow, that much was for certain.

Sighing out once more, he drummed his hands on the bar which had eyes looking over him curiously when he licked his lips. Catching the sweetness lingering there before clearing his throat. "I just wanna, um, thank you, Thirteen, for inviting me out but I think I should head home! I gotta get up early tomorrow, gotta take care o' my kids and sleep this off! But thank you re-really for, um, inviting me out! I appreciate this send off more than you can possibly know! But I'll see all of you tomorrow!"

"Of course! I'm happy that you can make it, Zashi! Do you need any help getting home? You didn't drive, did you?" He shook his head which, in his opinion, was an awful choice that had his swaying viciously side to side. Like he had stepped onto a boat that had the room spinning making him suck in a sharp breath when he forced his head to stop. Thirteen looked at him with worry, however, when her hand touched his forearm. "Do you need help calling an Uber?"

"I'm good! I can get home just fine! I got, uh, Aizawa helpin' me with the Uber stuff. Right, 'zawa?" He turned to Shouta as he tried his best not to sway in his seat as he tightened his grasp on the edge of the bar when the black-haired man nodded sharply before lifting his mug up to drain his beer before sliding off of his stool. He turned his head with a sway to beam at Thirteen. "See! I'll be fine! But I'll see you all bright an-and early tomorrow morning!"

He turned carefully in his seat then wobbling, swaying, when he felt a hand touch his thigh. It had tingles racing under his skin when Shouta stood behind him to which he blinked before swallowing. Placing his hands on the black-haired man's shoulders, he gripped at his coat when hands came up to grab his waist. Big hands that had him tingling when he got a squeeze as he squirmed forward on his stool. Tumbling off with Shouta's help who grunted when he stumbled forward. "Careful."

A quiet reprimand when he was tumbling forward on his feet clumsily forcing himself into the black-haired man's space. Damn near tumbling into his arms with hands tightening on his waist fiercely when he got his bearings. He mumbled an apology when hands left his waist to grab his coat off of his stool. He slid his arms clumsily into his sleeves as he swayed on his feet. Patting his pockets for his phone and wallet, he then turned to give another smile to his worried coworkers.

Waving clumsily when a hand gently grasped his wrist. He let himself be tugged away by Shouta as he stumbled after him with a swaying head. Swimming. He let himself be walked forward as he struggled to keep from stumbling over his feet as they made their way to the door. His boots thudding over the wooden floor of the bar as he tugged his scarf out from beneath his coat to puff around his throat. To protect it as he was then tugged through the door of the bar into the little hallway.

Down the way of it leading to the front door of the bar. Snow swirled past the window from what he could see with his boots thudding loudly over the floor after Shouta. Struggling to keep up without stumbling over his feet when he reached his free hand out to touch the wall. To steady himself while the hand on his wrist squeezed gently. And then it was letting go when he found himself swaying on his feet to thud against the wall with a grunt. Was he worse off than he thought?

He had not a clue, but he hugged himself to the wall when he watched in a daze as Shouta tugged his phone out of his pocket. The light of his phone screen brilliant when compared to the soft lighting of this hallway. He hummed when he watched the familiar logo for Uber pop up on his friend's phone. He fought the urge to press his feverish cheek against the wall that felt so cool beneath his clammy palms. He let his eyes flutter shut as he pressed his temple against the wall instead.

Leaning into it to keep himself up right while he listened to the quiet, barely audible sound of Shouta tapping at his phone. There was a silent chime at the confirmed ride request when Shouta hummed softly. His head was swimming lazily. It was awful. He felt a touch on the back of his shoulder when he forced his heavy lashes up. Forcing his gaze to focus only to find Shouta staring at him. All night, the man had been staring at him at some point over the past three and a half hour.

He appreciated the concern, but he truly was fine. More than fine. He hummed at the black-haired man who looked softer in this lighting than he had inside. His hair richer in the soft yellow lighting playing off of his hair. Off of his dark eyes slightly with shadows fanning over his face from the overhead lights. Weaving on his feet, he fought the urge to let his eyes shut again when he turned to the black-haired man. He wanted to hug him. He wants to hug Shouta again and there was no point waiting, was there?

Swallowing against the swaying in his head, he pressed his hands against the wall before pushing off. Turning clumsily, he stumbled forward into Shouta. Right into his chest with the black-haired man grunting when he lifted his arms to curl around his slender waist. Hugging himself to the black-haired man, he buried his face into his throat where he inhaled that vanilla cologne. It had the muscles in his back relaxing when he felt Shouta fumbling with his phone no doubt with a low curse.

But he didn't mind it. Not one bit. And then those arms were curling around him to hug him tighter to the black-haired man's chest with a hand sliding over his back. A tired sounding sigh leaving the black-haired man. Pressing down firmly just enough for him to feel that hand rubbing at his back. He didn't know if it was to be a pitiful rub, a comforting one, or a placating one but it felt nice, nonetheless. He clung onto the black-haired man as his knees wobbled with the threat of giving out on him.

His toes curling in his boots as he pressed into Shouta with a sigh leaving him at how warm the black-haired man was. Was he cold? Or did it merely feel nice after a night of drinking to be pushed up against someone? When was the last time he'd drunk like this? He couldn't remember. All he knew was he always had someone warm with him when he went home but this wasn't that type of situation. Shouta was being a friend. A damned good friend.

And here he was hanging off of him like he was some random person from the bar. He buried his face into the black-haired man's throat when he got a quiet grunt from the man. Hands slid clumsily over his back before resting on them with arms hugging him tightly. It was unbelievably nice. Standing here in this warm hallway with Shouta pressed into his arms. With those arms holding him tightly to his chest with the warmth of Shouta's breaths fanning over the top of his head.

He had not a clue what he was doing but he was going to enjoy this. He wanted to stay right here until the Uber came. He wants to know what it'd be liked to have those hands caress his hair. To have his fingers comb through it. To scratch at his head gently. He wants to know what it'd be like to drag Shouta to bed where they could cuddle up together. Where he could fall asleep in these strong, muscular arms of Shouta's. He pressed him against the wall which had the black-haired man grunting again.

A note of discomfort to it but arms remained tight around him. Pressing his feet firmly into the floor, he squished himself up against the broad chest of Shouta's with a sigh fanning over his hair again. Arms tightening around him while he hummed with his lashes resting on his cheeks with a flutter. Melting when the black-haired man began stroking his ack again. He was more than happy to stay right here. Right in these arms that he had been pining after for so long. How long now? He had not a clue.

But God, he likes hugging him. He likes his warmth. He likes his smell. Shouta smelled so good. He felt so good against him even if they didn't fit together perfectly. He was taller by that one inch, but it made for a bit of an awkward hunch into his arms. Huffing that musky, biting vanilla cologne that did little to help his swimming head. Did little to help the twisting in his chest that was squeezing into him. The longing. Oh, how easy it was to long for this. For Shouta to hold him so tightly like this.

To hold him in his arms like he was something precious. Like he was someone he wanted to hold in his arms. It had him melting as he failed to stop himself from nuzzling the black-haired man. He felt him tense slightly but it didn't click. It didn't register. He was melting. He was happy. Oh, all he wants is to remain in Shouta's arms. All he wants is to hug onto this man who felt so warm beneath him. It smelled so good. He was euphoric over a small hug. He was so happy to hug onto this man.

Maybe he was drunker than he thought but it had him humming happily as he held onto the ends of his friend's coat. Nuzzling his throat with his face pushing into his scarf with the scent of his cologne filling his nose. Shouta patted his back lightly before rubbing at him. Hesitant. Still stiff. But when he hummed at him, he felt the black-haired man shift before relaxing. As if he had been waiting for him to bite at him. To snap. But no. No, no, no, he was happy.

He felt arms tighten around him to squeeze him to his chest tightly with the black-haired man stroking his back gently with his hands. An up and down he felt through his coat as his heart sprinted against his chest with his head swimming lazily as he clung. Held onto his friend. His best friend. Shouta was his best friend; the one who had been getting closer and closer to him over the past five months. Going on six in a few months. Shouta was his best friend who he loves more than anything.

He loves Shouta who always seemed so happy in his kitchen. Who glowed like nothing else when they were in the living room with coffee in hand as Eri cuddled into his chest. When the boys tapped on his knees to get his attention on the show at hand or to show off their pet rocks. Shouta, Shouta, Shouta. Squeezing his arms around his waist, there was a light ping of his phone that had hands sliding along his back to his waist. Pushing at him gently to which he whined in protest.

shifting clumsily to give Shouta room to dig into his pocket and he rolled his head onto his shoulder rather than nuzzled into his scarf. His throat. His head was swaying uneasily; his stomach felt bloated. God, did he really feel that need to go to the bathroom. He was quickly growing uncomfortable, but he was trying to keep his breath even. Fighting that swimming, spinning sensation by closing his eyes as his glasses pressed into his cheek annoyingly.

He listened to the quiet tap of Shouta's thumb on his phone screen when the black-haired pushed off the wall. It had him stumbling when an arm curled around his waist to hold him tightly to Shouta's side. He wanted to comment on how odd it was that an Uber came so fast but he swallowed it down. Instead, he tried to focus on holding an arm out to touch the wall. The other around Shouta's shoulders that he held onto tightly as he tried to keep from stumbling over his feet.

The drunken state that felt so warm in the bar was proving to be worse. Much worse now that he was standing, walking, and it had his stomach gurgling uncertainly as he walked with Shouta who coaxed him forward. One foot in front of the other. He just needs to focus on one foot in front of the other as he made his way down the swaying hallway. The floor rippling beneath his feet. It had his stomach churning with his breaths trembling briefly when he shut his eyes.

Squeezing them shut as he stumbled forward when he opened his eyes at the thick thunking sound as the door was pushed open. He shuddered at the artic wind outside to blasted into the space. It had him gasping as he was then ushered out to the car waiting before them with the small sticker with Uber on it. He was tugged forward with snow and ice crunching beneath his boots to which he went along silently. Trying his best not to stumble and slip. That was the last thing he wanted.

He didn't want to make himself a fool in front of Shouta. He placed one foot in front of the other where Shouta opened the car door for him. Letting go of his hold on Shouta, he dropped down then slid into the warm car with Shouta following after him. Fuck, he could hardly focus on the conversation talking about his address. Where the next stop would be after he was walked inside. He couldn't focus when his temples throbbed faintly with his head swaying.

His stomach felt like it was slowly but surely bloating much to his dismay as it churned uneasily. He lifted his hands up to rub at his temples when he jerked at the sudden movement of the car when he then glanced at the black-haired man. A stab of panic hitting him; as if he were about to find himself alone. Instead, Shouta placed a hand on his thigh to give a comforting squeeze that he didn't know he needed. And he reached down to grab at his hand instinctively.

Slipping his fingers into Shouta's palm, he then leaned over to press his head to his broad shoulder. He heard a sharp intake being given when he did so but he couldn't think. He was rolling with what felt good when his body was beginning to react negatively to his drunken state. He squeezed at the hand in his when he felt heat burning in his cheeks. His hand felt good in his. Rough hands that were just a bit smaller than his own but squeezed at him.

He curled his fingers securely into Shouta's palm when he got a squeeze. Fingers digging into the back of his hand when he let out a shaking sigh. Leaning back into the seat with his lower half sliding slightly to rest his head comfortably on that broad shoulder. He let his eyes flutter shut with the soothing rumble of the car swaying him idly. Holding onto Shouta's hand like he was a damned child but it was nice. To find the bits of tonight that felt good as he fought the creeping nausea.

Sighing out, he inhaled the scent of the car that carried pine. Underneath it, he could catch the black-haired man's cologne still and it was so good. He couldn't get enough of it. He can't. At least they didn't have to wait very long for the Uber. In fact, it felt magical how fast it showed up. Five minutes? Or three? He had not a clue. Time wasn't making sense to him. It was slow and fast. Sluggish and racing. He was just happy that the car showed up when it did much to his relief. Standing was hard.

Walking wasn't the easiest. And he was ready for bed. He rubbed his cheek against Shouta's shoulder delightedly with his hand tightening on Shouta's. It shouldn't take long. Not long at all to get to his house from the bar. It was a short ten minutes by car and fifteen by walking. It was close enough that he'd felt comfortable in drinking the way he had been over the past three hours. Keeping his head pressed to Shouta's shoulder, he let himself rock lightly with the car.

Shouta had been nothing but caring today. He'd been so concerned when telling him about the happy hour after. He'd been so kind to book the Uber for them both. He'd been so kind watching out for him. He had to do something for the black-haired man. He'd become such a good best friend that he was happy to spend time with him. What did he do? Make him a cake? Cookies? Cupcakes? Did he invite him over for dinner again? Did he book something nice for the two of them to do?

He wanted to do something to show Shouta what he thought of their friendship. How happy the black-haired man made him in recent times. Out of all his new friends, Shouta was his favorite. Quickly becoming his best friend over the past five months, he can't imagine what it'd be like without the black-haired man. He was happy to have him in his life. Happy to welcome his daughter into his life. He rubbed his cheek against Shouta's shoulder again with his hand tightening on the black-haired man's which squeezed back.

He wanted to lift his head up to chatter at the black-haired man. He wants to talk to him about tonight, about the thoughts in his head, but he wasn't so drunk to do that. He knew better than to let on that he liked Shouta as more than just a friend. He wasn't so drunk he'd blurt out his crush, was he? It kept his lips pressed tightly together as he clung to the black-haired man's hand as he relished in the quiet. The soft purr of the engine. The smell of pine in the car. The smell of Shouta.

The warmth of him pressing into his side as he nuzzled his cheek against his shoulder. His lashes fluttering on his cheeks with a ticklish sensation with his glasses digging into his temples unpleasantly. But it was so nice. Sitting here cuddled up to Shouta who was allowing it. He hoped he wasn't making the other man uncomfortable. He hoped that he wasn't doing something wrong. Shouta had offered tonight to walk him in, to get him settled, before taking the Uber back to his apartment.

It was unbelievably nice of Shouta to do something like that for him. It had him squirming in his seat with the hand on his tightening to which he squeezed back. Nuzzling at Shouta's shoulder once more when a yawn bubbled up his throat then burst out of him. Clinging to his friends hand, he sighed out again with fingers pressing into the back of his hand. Shouta's palm was unbelievably warm against his fingers. Keeping them from being chilled when he turned his head slightly.

He didn't know what Shouta was going to do but he was happy that the man was willing to make sure he was comfortable before returning home. He loves Shouta so damn much. How could he not? The black-haired man was so caring. So nice. So protective. Sweet. Charming. Handsome. Beautiful. Shouta was his best friend and he loves him so dearly. He can't imagine his life without having met this man. Didn't want too.

He supposes he was lucky to have met Shouta when he did in his shop that morning. He was either lucky or unfortunate but he liked to believe he was lucky. That their friendship was something to feel fortunate over. Something for the two of them to cherish as his life had become so much more interesting with Shouta in it. He wants to let him know but how did he without showing him his crush? Without telling him how he felt truly?

Clenching his jaw slightly, he moved his thumb idly over Shouta's fingers. They felt cold. He lifted his left hand up to cover the back of Shouta's hands and his fingers to warm them better. He could feel Shouta shifting slightly. As if he were uneasy about something. He wanted to ask him but he was dozing. Fading off to fight the nausea that would come to him once he was aware again. He didn't want to deal with the feeling of his stomach bloating as it pushed into his pants uncertainly.

He was going to puke tonight, he knew he was, but he was hoping to fight it off until Shouta was gone. But he knew he couldn't control it; if he puked then he puked. His lashes fluttered on his cheeks with his hands tightening around his when he forced his eyes to open. Tilting his head slightly with his cheek rubbing over his shoulder when he peeked up at the side of his face. The expression on his face was unreadable. Was it because he was drunk? Or because he was at an odd angle?

He had not a clue. He turned his head slightly to rest his temple against his shoulder as he peered out the window at the familiar buildings flashing by. They were going to be getting close. He clutched at Shouta's hand with his fingers rubbing at the black-haired man's too warm them up. He found himself yawning again then with his eyes squeezing shut. Damn, he wasn't this tired in the bar. In the hallway. He couldn't wait to get in his pajamas. Couldn't wait to get his boxers and packer off of him.

He couldn't say that he hated the feeling of his packer, but he knew he was tired. He knew he wanted it off. Swallowing down a whine, he lifted himself off of Shouta's shoulder to shift slightly with his head resting back against the head rest. Looking out the window as he dragged their hands onto his lap. Squeezing. Rubbing. Trying to warm up Shouta's hand the best that he could while he hummed quietly to himself. A cheerful song that had been playing in the bar while he rubbed at Shouta's fingers.

His voice broke slightly when he did so, but he watched the familiar buildings rushing past him in a blur. He likes the feeling of Shouta's hand in his. He likes the feeling of that rough palm beneath his fingers. The slight callouses that were half formed unlike his own that he lotioned away. Kept soft. Rubbing at Shouta's hand, he kept his gaze angled away from the black-haired man who didn't so much as move a muscle to pull his hand away.

If anything, when he glanced out of the corner of his eye, Shouta seemed red. Redder than he'd been in the bar much to his surprise. He knew Shouta drank at the bar; hell, he probably drank more than him but he hadn't been that red in the low lighting of the bar. It had his heart skipping wildly in his chest when he tore his gaze away to look out the window once more. Holding onto his hand like it was anchor. It kept him from worrying about his bloating stomach that pushed unpleasantly into his jeans.

About the nausea that was tickling through him. The way his head swayed that felt overwhelming now rather than comforting as it had been in the bar. He clung to that hand between his desperately to keep himself grounded. To keep himself from floating away from the here and now. Where the feel of Shouta's hand in his had his bloating stomach fluttering wildly with his heart skipping. Damn near palpitating in his chest. He never thought he'd do something as bold as this.

But he was sure to wipe it away tomorrow, right? Anything that happened tonight would be chalked up to him being drunk. It put a strange lump in his throat to think that tomorrow Shouta would wave this away. That Shouta would claim it was because he was drunk. Because they both were. He didn't want it to be that way. He didn't want anything tonight to be waved away as drunkenness, but it would be, wouldn't it? There was no way it wouldn't be and it put a fat lump in his throat.

Even if he hugged him now, even if he held his hands tightly, he knew Shouta would be rational. Shouta would wave it away as nothing more, wouldn't he? Even if he was redder than anything as he held onto his hand tightly. It had his lip trembling before he bit down on it fiercely. He knew this irrational grief gripping his chest certainly was an effect of his drunken state but what did he want? Did he want to do something more? Did he want Shouta to acknowledge the touches tonight?

Did he want to open the door he'd been keeping staunchly shut out of fear? He dug his teeth into his lower lip with his eyes fluttering shut to fight off tears. The last thing he needs is to cry. It wouldn't help his case. He clung to Shouta's hand when he took a slow breath then let it out through his nose before dragging his teeth over his lip. He opened his eyes to find them closer to home than he realized. It had him sitting up with a few rapid blinks when he focused out the window.

They were turning the corner onto his street with the convenience store on the corner flashing past him much to his surprise. Where had time gone tonight? Why was it going by so fast? He wanted to ask Shouta if he was more out of it than he realized but he didn't want to risk anything. Didn't want Shouta to see him as impaired. He bit at his inner cheek fiercely when they began cruising down his street with his gaze out the window. Waiting for his house to come up on them.

And he tightened his hold on Shouta's hand. He got a squeezed back when Shouta leaned forward as his house came into view to murmur to the Uber driver. He didn't catch what the black-haired man said but as his house came into view, Shouta sat back in his seat with the hand in his tightened briefly. And then Shouta was scooching over towards the door with the hand in his tugging at him gently as the driver turned. Pulling into the driveway with headlights flashing over the back of his car.

Pulling in tightly before parking, the black-haired man turned the car door to throw it open with the cold air bursting into the car. He slid across the seats as Shouta stepped out with his hand in his still much to his delight. He climbed out of the car after Shouta when he pulled his left hand away to pat his pockets clumsily. Wallet. Phone. Keys. He shut the car door then let Shouta tug him forward gently and his heart was thudding. Jumping.

Holding Shouta's hand which remained in his as they walked up the driveway to the front walkway. Was Shouta holding his hand out of pity? Or comfort? Or placating? Was it like the way he rubbed his back minutes ago in the bar hallway? He wanted to ask but he had to get his keys out of his pocket. Digging them out with his left hand as they walked up the front walkway. Struggling to walk over the rippling ground without falling forward. Without scuffing his boots and flying forward.

Holding onto his hand like it was an anchor until they approached his front door together. It had him squeezing at Shouta's hand tightly before he sighed out. A silver cloud pluming from his lips when he reluctantly pulled his hand from Shouta's. His fingers sliding over his palm when fingers curled up to hook with his. Fiddling gently before he had to pull his hand away much to his disappointment. It was almost like Shouta didn't want him to let go.

Almost like he wanted to hold on a moment longer. It had his hands trembling as they made their way up the front walkway to his front door with a shudder. He stomped his boots to keep his legs warm as he fussed with his keyring before tugging the house key out. Slipping it into the lock, he twisted with a metallic click before tugging it out gently then sliding it into the doorknob. Grabbing onto the frigid metal thing, he twisted his key with a metallic click and then his door was swinging open.

Pushing the door open wider, he stumbled over the threshold into his darkened house with his hands working his key free. He then reached up to tug his scarf off as he stumbled over his feet before slapping it onto the heater. Shouta came in after him with boots thudding over the floor and the door swinging shut with a gentle click. He lifted his hands up to tug his zipper down clumsily before shrugging his shoulders. To rid himself of the fabric quickly as he could.

He shuddered at the warmth attacking him as he swayed. And then Shouta was grabbing at his waist again much to his surprise. He swallowed before placing his keys on the heater with a clanging clatter before placing his hands on the man's broad shoulders. Stepping one at a time on the heels of his boots to work his feet free, Shouta then bent over to stuff them beneath the heater. Picking his coat up then digging into his pocket for his phone and wallet before handing them to him.

Taking them gratefully from Shouta, he then stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. Weaving on his feet, Shouta gently touched his wrists prompting him to let go of his shoulders. Walking over to hang his coat up, he turned on his feet to stumble to his kitchen with his head spinning. Uncoordinated. God, he wished the walls would stop spinning. He wished that the ground would stop swaying and rippling beneath him as he stumbled with a curse as his hands shot out. Holding onto the doorway of the kitchen.

Swaying on his feet, he made his way into the kitchen with booted feet rushing after him as he stumbled to the counters. Tugging the door open, he reached up to grab a cup only to knock three down where they clattered loudly. Falling deafeningly on the counter then the floor. Shouta scooped them up rather quickly in the darkness when he turned on his feet only to crash into the black-haired man who grunted quietly along with himself. Wavering at the impact briefly.

He steadied himself before stumbling over to the fridge where he jammed his cup under the freezer nozzle. Water gushing into the cup merely teased his aching bladder but he hardly cared as he filled the cup up then lifted it. Guzzling at the water with a groan spilling out of him at how dry his mouth had become in the car. How dry his throat had become. Guzzling eagerly at his water while Shouta put the other cups away with the cabinet door being shut gently.

He lowered his cup with a gasp as water dribbled down his chin to which he used the sleeve of his sweater to rub his chin dry. His mouth. Lifting it up to gulp at the remaining half of his water with a sigh he lowered his cup which Shouta took from him. Filling it again, he fought the urge to fidget. To ask Shouta if he was okay. He couldn't find it in him to open his mouth after having been so quiet the entire ride home. From the time they left the bar.

He merely swayed uneasily on his feet while Shouta filled his cup again before wrapping an arm around his waist to coax him forward around the freezer. He tried to focus on his feet to keep from stumbling as the black-haired man ushered him down the hallway towards his bedroom. His doors were wide open when they turned to walk over the threshold. Four heads rose when he reached out clumsily to turn his lights up on low. God if he wasn't glad, he had dimmer lights.

He pulled away from Shouta with a stumbling step before making his way to his bed where he sat on the edge. And oh, it was nice to get off his shaking feet. Shouta placed the cup of water on the bedside table with a light thud when he made his way around the corner of his bed. Past him then around the other side of his bed where he disappeared into the bathroom. He let himself flop backwards with his stomach sloshing uncertainly when he groaned quietly.

His hands coming up to rub at his stomach. The bright light of his bathroom spilled over the floor when he rolled his head over the bed to glance in its direction only for the light to flick off. Then Shouta reappeared with his bottle of Advil in hand. He hummed softly when he forced himself up onto his hands with his head lolling lazily when Shouta made his way around the bed. Brushing past him to place the pills on his bedside table. How was Shouta so put together? How could he not be stumbling?

Fumbling? He wanted to ask but he found his mind dancing away from the topic. Away from the questions brewing in his head. He pushed himself to his feet to turn towards Shouta to thank him. To tell him how much he appreciated him. How much he wanted to thank him for his kindness that he'd done nothing to show him over the past five months. For what he did tonight. Standing on his weaving feet, he reached out to touch with his hand touching one of Shouta's again.

He found himself staring at that red face with a sense of awe. A sense of appreciation. How beautiful Shouta looked with snowflakes clinging then melting in his hair. How he looked so alert. How that red blush smothered itself over his cheeks beautifully with its vibrant red hue. How those dark eyes sparkled at him with full lips parting ever so slightly. Full lips that had been driving him insane tonight. That low, deep voice of Shouta's that had been a mere rumble.

Had he been embarrassed? Or not wanted to draw attention? He had not a clue. But standing here now in his dimly lit bedroom, a hand in his, he found himself leaning forward Shouta to catch that vanilla scent. The smell that he'd been inhaling in the car. In the bar hallway. A scent that he first caught that afternoon in October. A scent that he'd memorized by now. He swayed on his feet with Shouta stepping closer to his when the hand in his fidgeted uncertainly.

And he reached out to hug the black-haired man tightly with his face burying itself in his shoulder. Squeezing Shouta against him tightly, there was a wheeze before the black-haired man wrapped his arm around his waist to hold onto him. A tight hug that was returned to him much to his delight as he clung onto his friend with his lashes tickling his cheeks. Hugging him tight, tight, tight with that vanilla invading his senses. If he was drunk, then so be it. He'd be the drunken fool.

But right now, there was nothing he was more certain of than Shouta. Holding onto the man as they swayed side to side uncertainly, he found his heart sprinting against his chest. His churning stomach fluttering. His cheeks burning hotly with a fresh blush that burned there fiercely. He knew Shouta needed to go. He knew he had to get home too. But it merely had him tightening his hand on the hand in his. His arm around Shouta that he kept tightly wrapped around him.

He didn't want Shouta to go yet. He didn't want to say goodbye yet. Clinging onto his friend tightly, he nuzzled his face into his shoulder with the warmth of Shouta's breaths fanning over the side of his neck. Did Shouta mean it? Did he really smell good to the black-haired man? Did he feel as good to him as Shouta felt to him? He wanted to ask. To question the black-haired man but he couldn't find his words that were clogging his throat. They were right there yet he couldn't think long enough to use them.

As if his body was trying to squeeze them out but couldn't get them out properly yet. He swayed idly side to side with Shouta who held him tightly. Squeezing him firmly. He wants nothing more than to stay in these strong arms all night long. He wants to drag Shouta into the bed behind them. He wants to curl up in his arms and sleep there. He wants to inhale that vanilla scent all night long. He wants the warmth of Shouta right there in the morning. There didn't need to be sex. To be a confession.

He just wants to be in Shouta's arms. Where it felt right. Good. He wants to stay right here for as long as he possibly can. He wants to memorize the feel of his chest against his. The shape of his shoulders. How slender his waist felt. How Shouta's hand felt in his. He wanted to stay right here for the rest of his night, but he knew it wasn't possible. He knew it and it broke his damn heart. He felt that same strange knot of emotion bubbling in his throat at the thought of saying goodbye.

He wants Shouta to stay with him. He wants to pull away and hear the black-haired man ask to stay. To insist on staying. He wants Shouta to stay here as much as he wants him too. He wants Shouta to stay. Please, please, please stay. Words bubbled in his throat, but he couldn't get them out. There was thrumming beneath his skin that was making itself all too apparent. Did he need to sit down? Lay down? What did he need? What did he want? What could he possibly need from Shouta? Want from him?

God, he was thrumming, thrumming, thrumming with that all too familiar tension settling on his skin as he hugged Shouta tighter. Inhaling his cologne as he held him to his chest tightly with the arm around his waist tightening in response. The hand in his squeezing at his as fingers slid between his. He was drowning under the warmth fanning under his skin, but he knew he had to let go. He needed to let Shouta go. The Uber wasn't going to wait forever for him to come back out.

Hugging him tightly, he slid back a step with a shaking exhale when he found himself face to face with Shouta again. Black lashes fluttering on red cheeks before lifting up with a sparkle to those dark eyes that had his heart skipping in his chest. Full lips parting slightly as if to speak; to say something to him yet not a word left the black-haired man. He was beautiful. God, Shouta was so beautiful as he stood there wavering forward on his toes.

The hand in his squeezing tightly which he returned without a second thought. All night, Shouta had been so close but so far away. Keeping a watchful eye on him while he talked with Kan. He needed to let Shouta go. He knew he did but he held onto his hand as the arm around his waist pulled him closer again. It had him stumbling over his feet but he happily let himself be tugged forward as he lifted his free hand up to touch Shouta's shoulder.

Sliding over it to the side of his neck just barely seen past his scarf. Trembling fingers lifting upwards, he touched Shouta's jaw where that stubble scratched his fingers. He slid his fingers upwards to trail over Shouta's red cheek as the black-haired man stared at him. There was an unnamable emotion to those dark eyes that he couldn't pin point. What was it? He had not a clue. But it had his skin buzzing with that thrumming beneath it when his head tipped forward slightly.

His eyes locking onto Shouta's. Trailing his fingers over his cheeks, he decided to let himself be bold. Let himself be confident. He brushed his fingers clumsily over his cheek when he pressed the pads of his fingers to his lips. Lips that he'd been staring at for months. Lips that, in recent times, he'd been fantasizing about. Dreaming about. He slid his fingers over that full bottom lip to caress it. Fingers moving in the same clumsy manner as they had over the rim of his glass back at the bar.

It was something that he wished he could fix but he couldn't. Those lips parted again when he lifted his fingers up to caress his top lip. They were a bit chapped but he didn't mind it. Not one bit. Racing breaths fanned over the tips of his fingers when he pressed the pads of them against that lower lip again. His clumsy fingers tracing the shape of those lips that he'd been admiring for months. His fingers trembled lightly with the exhilaration of touching those lips.

Quiet, trembling breaths fanned over his finger tips as he slid his fingers over that bottom lip when he met that dark gaze again. It was like finally living out a fantasy. Like he was finally being able to touch Shouta the way he wanted too that day in his office. His fingers had been itching back then to touch his lips just like this and now here he was. Drunker than anything as he traced his fingers over the shape of those full lips clumsily. Idly. Taking his time memorizing the feel of them beneath his fingers.

They were a bit chapped, cold, but there was an exhilaration to touching the black-haired man's lips like this. He slid his fingers clumsily up to his upper lip which had black lashes fluttering at him. Blinking at him when a look of hesitation pinched at the black-haired man when he tightened his arm around him. Holding him close when he found himself wondering if this was too much. If he was crossing some kind of line that he hadn't been aware of.

They'd touched cheeks, jaws, ears, gently with the spark of affection but this was different. This was his lips. And yet he couldn't stop himself from trailing his fingers over that top lip with its faint cupids bow then down to that bottom lip. Pressing down firmly against his lip with trembling breaths fanning over the tips of them. He found himself longing. Needing. Wanting. Oh, does he want to touch him. Does he want to kiss him. Was it just because he was lonely? Was it because he was drunk?

Or was his inebriation just amplifying his desires? Amplifying his wants? He slid his fingers over Shouta's lower lip again when he upped his fingers away to touch his red cheek that felt hotter. Burning. A deep red blush burning there that had nothing to do with his alcohol consumption if he had to guess. And then a hand was lifting to skim over his cheek. Trailing down it when he found himself leaning forward with lips parting slightly.

And much like he had, he felt fingers pressing hesitantly to the corner of his mouth. And then they were pressing to his lower lip. Sliding over it with a trembling breath being taken as black brows twitched together. Tracing the shape of his lower lip before curving up to touch his upper lip gently with fingertips ghosting over it gently. It had his lips tingling as his cheeks burned with his arm tightening around Shouta. He couldn't tell if he was accepting this due to his desires. His wants.

His drunken state. His stomach churned at the rush of emotions twisting into him. Shouta pressed his fingers firmly to his lips when he met that dark gaze. There was something burning there that he couldn't pin down. It had his heart jumping in his chest wildly with his hand twisting into his coat. Holding onto the hem of it. He knew he had to let Shouta go. He had to let him get back to the Uber but he couldn't move. Didn't want to move.

He could feel the world around them becoming a bubble where all that existed was the two of them. A bubble where the soft lighting of his bedroom played off those loose black curls in a sheen. Making them look glossy in the low lighting. Playing off of his eyes making them appear richer; darker. Softer. It had his heart jumping in his chest at the way lights played off of this man. How they can make him look vibrant? Make him stand out among the others?

Make him pop out among the crowd like the blue and purple lights that had played off his hair at the bar. Or how the soft inner lights had played on his eyes. Shouta Aizawa was by far the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. And he was greedy. Drunk off of the sight of him. Off of his vanilla cologne that had a musky, biting edge that he couldn't stop himself from huffing like he needed it. Like he wanted it to stay down in his lungs. He wanted to huff it until he could recognize it anywhere.

He wants to drag it down into his lungs until he was gasping. He wants that scent around him. In him. He wants Shouta to stay close to him just like this. He wants the black-haired man to want to stay. There was nothing he'd want more than to see those full lips part and for the black-haired man to suggest staying. It had his breaths wavering as those rough fingers traced the shape of his lips when he leaned forward to kiss at the pads of those fingers.

He was choking under the waves slamming into him as he found himself sinking. Falling into that same dilemma he'd been on Halloween night as that tension ran over his skin. Ran underneath it in a thrum. And he felt it. He felt that same tension he'd been feeling each time they had a moment alone. That same uncertainty that had him hesitating. Had him wondering. What did he want? What did he need? What did he want to do? Did he want to kiss Shouta? Did he want to do that?

He felt his own lips parting slightly with his shaking breaths as Shouta twisted forward with his face tipping up towards him. Tightening his hold on the hand in his, he felt his lashes lowering slightly with the black-haired man squeezing at him. What does he want? Does he want to give in? Does he want to crumble? Does he want to do what he had been so scared of on Halloween night? Did he want Shouta to wave this off as a drunken decision? No. No, he didn't.

He wished he was far more sober but he couldn't change that. He licked his lips then swallowed when he leaned in with racing breaths fanning over his chin. Over his lips as his glasses slipped down his nose with the black-haired man leaning into him. A bad choice but he leaned forward against Shouta to stabilize himself when he found himself riveted to those parted lips. And he didn't want to think. He didn't want to overcomplicate another part of his life. He didn't want to think about the repercussions.

He didn't want to think about how this could come back to bite him in the ass. He didn't want to think a moment more about this. He knew if he didn't take his shot that he was going to regret this. But this was going to change everything. There's no way that it wouldn't. As he stared at that red face of Shouta, he found his lips moving silently when fingers pressed to his lower lip. Quiet, racing breaths filling the quiet of the space between them with arms tightening.

Holding one another closer to the other as fingers rested on his chin lightly when he forced himself to close his mouth. To swallow against the nausea that was building from the intensity of his emotions. Building up faster than it had in the car when he then found himself opening his mouth again. His breaths trembling as he tightened his arm around Shouta's waist. Clutching at him. Holding onto him like he was a weigh in the weaving world. An anchor in the swimming, rippling world around him.

"I want-" He hated the gasp to his voice, but it trembled. Wavered. His voice was choking in on itself with his longing strangling him. What did he want? He wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss Shouta so bad it was killing him. It was eating him up. He was staring at those full lips that parted slightly again with a silent tremble when he whined in the back of his throat. How did he say it? Where were his words?

"What do you want, Zashi?" Quiet. Husky. It had his heart skipping wildly against his chest at that low voice filling the space between them. Dark eyes locked onto his with an intensity that was so, so much different from earlier. An intensity that held a hope to it when Shouta slid his fingers from his chin to caress his jaw. Black lashes fluttering when the black-haired man leaned forward with eyes locked onto his. Impossible to look away. "Is-Is there something that you need from me?

"I want-I want to kiss you, Shouta." There. He'd said it. Said it out loud in that choked, rasping pitch with his eyes on those black ones. Dark. Rich. There was a pounding of his heart that had his hands shaking as he gripped at Shouta's shoulder. At the hem of his coat. Holding onto him like he was his anchor as his hands shook. His knees threatening to knock together as he finally, finally, finally gave voice to that desire that had been killing him for two months. Or had it been longer? He had no clue.

Shouta's arm tightened around his waist. Racing, trembling breaths intermingling when black lashes fluttered at him. Dark eyes burning at him with an intensity that had him threatening to melt to his knees at that husky voice. That look. He hadn't said a damn thing, but Shouta wasn't rejecting it. He wasn't saying no. But did that mean he was saying yes? Did that mean he wanted this? Or was he staying quiet to appease his drunken wiles? Was Shouta pitying him? Was he going to blame him for this?

Had Shouta drunken more than he realized? Was he drunker than he seemed? He had not a clue, but those black lashes fluttered down with Shouta leaning in. There had been a lilt to his husky voice, but he couldn't tell if Shouta was indeed drunk. Not when he seemed so sober, but he'd had two mugs of alcohol, hadn't he? Half of a third? He had not a clue but if Shouta was okay with it then what was stopping him? What was keeping him from doing it? Did Shouta want this too? Or not?

He wants to ask. He wants to spit the words out but he can't fid them as he stared at that face with eyes closing. Shouta was all but inviting it and he was helpless. He was helpless, helpless, helpless against the desire as he leaned in to close the gap with trembling breaths intermingling. His top lip lightly touched Shouta's; hesitating. Waiting for Shouta to jerk back but he didn't. Instead, he leaned in to press their lips together softly with a hand cupping his cheek.

And oh.

Oh, it was everything he imagined it being. Full. Plush. Warm. They were by far the best thing he'd kissed in time. He slid his lips against Shouta's with a shuddering breath fanning over his cheek when Shouta's lips moved against his in return. The quiet whisper of their moving lips was deafening when he felt fingers touch his shoulder. Lips moved against his curiously. Tentatively. As if trying to figure out what he was going to do. Waiting to see how the other would react.

He moved his lips against Shouta's with a light smack ringing out when he tugged his hand from Shouta's to curl his arms around him. Their lips moved with that curious tentativeness as the whisper of their moving lips filled the quiet between them. And God, it was everything he imagined it being. Everything he fantasized about. Those lips were so plush against his as they pressed against his softly. Moving together, he felt arms sliding around his waist with hands sliding up his back.

Another breath was taken only for a sigh to fan over his cheek. He couldn't stop himself from sighing out in unison with Shouta. He kissed the black-haired man with all the longing he'd been feeling. All the adoration he held for him. There was an answering adoration as arms tightened around him securely with lips sliding against his. Lips struggling to melt and curve against his but he didn't mind it if it took them a bit to find their groove. He'd kiss this man all night just to taste that relief.

To relish in the fact he was kissing Shouta. Something he'd been fantasizing about for months. If anything, it made it all the more exciting as he moved his lips against those full ones with a budding confidence. God, when was the last time he kissed someone? When was the last time he had someone kiss him? It was only made better because it was Shouta. Beautiful, handsome, gorgeous, stunning Shouta. Sweet, kind, sarcastic, grumpy, sleepy Shouta. The one he'd been actively pining after for two months now.

Someone he'd been fantasizing about when he touched himself. Shouta, Shouta, Shouta. He was kissing his Shouta with such tenderness it damn near had him swooning as arms remained tightly around him while he tightened his own around him. Loving the way those broad shoulders felt beneath his arms as lips slid against his. He could taste cherry on the black-haired man's lips that invaded the kiss much like the sweetness clinging onto his own lips. He was kissing Shouta.

It was a euphoric rush of a realization that he was finally giving life to a fantasy he'd had for these past two months. Two short months that felt like an eternity. And then their bubble was popped the sudden ringing of Shouta's phone tore them apart faster than he thought. He whined when Shouta tugged away from him like he was on fire. Ripped away. Backing away, Shouta's dark eyes widened with a look of shock on his face when he then turned. As if he couldn't face him.

As if he were taken aback by their kiss. Rushing from the room with boots thudding over the floor of his bedroom as Shouta stumbled over his feet. Racing for the bedroom door where he flew out of them without so much as a glance back at him. Not a word. Not a phrase. Nothing to tell he'd fucked up. Not even a rebuke. He got nothing from the black-haired man who he'd just kissed. A chance to explain himself gone before he could have it.

And he felt his heart breaking in his chest with tears welling on his lashes when he gasped. A guttural gasp that had his stomach sucking in sharply when he felt that disappointment crash over him. Left. Gone. He was alone again. And it was so, so painful to be alone again. He heard his front door open then slam shut leaving him alone when he felt that outrage bubbling in his chest. His heart ached when he took another heaving gasp that did nothing but agitate his stomach that decided enough was enough.

He spun on his feet much like Shouta had to run for his bathroom with a hand clapping over his mouth as he ran for the bathroom. Forsaking the light, he ran for the toilet where he threw up the lid and he was on his knees. Heaving. Vomiting harder than he ever had before as he emptied his stomach into the bowl. Gagging. Rasping. The acrid taste of that alcohol making its way up his throat into the toilet with wet splashes as he clung to the bowl.

His hair swung into his face which he tucked behind his ears with shaking hands. Trying to breathe when the surge was over only for another wave to overtake him as he hunched over the bowl of his toilet. Retching. Gagging. Vomiting so damn hard he felt his chest and back convulsing wildly with the actions. Puking his damn guts up with tears gushing down his cheeks that burned hotly. Heaving into the toilet bowl until the wave was over leaving him gasping over the foul smelling toilet bowl.

Reaching upwards to press on the button to flush the toilet when he hiccupped wetly. The toilet gurgled before gushing down in a swirl when he took shaking breaths with his hands clutching the bowl with tears gushing down his cheeks. Dripping off his chin. Slithering down his throat as he waited in preparation for the next round to begin when he rubbed at his tingling, wet lips. Hiccupping out a sob as he rubbed at his mouth with his lips trembling fiercely against the back of his hand.

Muffling himself. Sniffling fiercely with tears gushing down his cheeks with another wet hiccup. What had he done wrong? Did he read the situation wrong? Did Shouta not want it? Is that why he had looked at him like that? It had his chest aching with nausea churning in his stomach restlessly leaving him shuddering with his right hand clutching the bowl. His left pressed to his wet lips. And the worst part? The very worst part of it all? He could still taste that damned cherry vodka Shouta had been drinking.