Late nights weren't an uncommon occurrence. At least, Hizashi had long since become used to his late nights. Whether that was from his late nights in high school frantically studying flashcards he and Nemuri made or up late talking to Oboro. Or the nights in college when he'd been frantically pulling all-nighters to make sure he studied or to make sure his projects were completed. There was always a point in his life where he could remember being dead on his feet exhausted. That would leave him drooping over his meals.
Where he could remember himself swaying on his feet on the train ride home to his apartment during his college days. Back when he'd crash on the couch after failing to make it to his bedroom. Waking with a stiff neck due to the awful angles he'd sleep in on the couch. At least, until his mothers helped put a down payment on a house after he'd gone to them with the idea of opening his own store and adopting someday. Of becoming a foster parent. They liked to claim that they had been in the works of buying him the home.
The very one he had now but there was no knowing for certain. Not when those blue and brown eyes would sparkle at him playfully as his mothers danced around to tell the truth of how and when they began looking into homes for him. They'd done the same for Aimi, Hana and Haru. He didn't understand where his mothers had the money for this, but he never stopped to consider it. He had raised his own money to open his store with Nemuri and Oboro's help. He had pulled so many late nights it was hard to remember them all.
It was hard to pin down when and where he'd pull his all-nighters. How and why. He knew there were many reasons for him to pull an all-nighter and even as adult he found himself doing the same thing he did in his high school and college years. Many nights spent up late due to sleep refusing to come for him. When he had first adopted Hitoshi, the boy had been just barely aged three years old and had needed him. There were many nights he'd wake to his son sobbing in his doorway with soaked pajama's.
Many nights when the toddler was waiting for him from the top of the stairs. With chubby hands opening and losing, reaching for him as tears gushed down red cheeks. How distraught his son would be most nights for reasons he never understood but he would soothe away nonetheless. It wasn't uncommon that, after his late nights as classes, there was more than enough time spent consoling his child. In staying up after checking beneath his bed and the closet to make sure there were no monsters that would get him.
Nights spent in a sleeping bag in front of closet while his son peeked at him before he inevitably fell asleep. Until he was knocked out snoring delicately into his pillow. Many nights spent awake during the late nights where he'd find himself budgeting under the lamp light at his desk. With Hitoshi taking up his bed with the boy inconsolable. He'd bounced that toddler in his arms countless times to soothe him before they both crashed early in the mornings. When they'd find no more energy to be had for the night.
There's nothing he adores more than anything than his son, but those late nights had taken their tolls on him. There had been nights where he hardly got a wink of sleep whether that was due to some task to get done or something to do with his then toddler. Anything to make their lives smoother. He had been nothing short of happy when he was cradling the indigo-haired toddler in his arms on those late nights. When they would both fall asleep in the rocking chair that he'd had in the makeshift nursery for his son back then.
Late nights were not uncommon. If anything, he was more used to pulling a late night than going to bed earlier. He used to go to bed when Hitoshi would throughout the years but when Hitoshi began to sleep independently but close to him. He'd spent late nights doing paperwork for his building. In his store where Hitoshi would sleep in his stroller until he got the place ready. Many nights where his son would toddle around the house with him like a small shadow. He adored his late nights with his son.
It was a routine most nights, but the indigo-haired child always had a bit of trouble when it came to putting him down at night. It took bribery to get his son to sleep by himself in his bedroom. It took work and dedication but liked to believe that even though his son was an expert on getting to sleep by himself after he put him down. He had to be one of the most self-sufficient children he had the pleasure of knowing. He was a good boy and that was all he could thank whatever God was out there for.
And when Hitoshi had turned five and he took in Izuku? He swore he'd never seen boys take to one another faster than Hitoshi and Izuku did. Thick as thieves the both of them; if anything, he saw himself and sisters in his sons. Himself and his brother, Haru. It was sweet how the indigo-haired boy quickly had a cuddle buddy when he needed someone with him. How he could turn to Izuku with that sparkle to his purple eyes and the answering sparkle in Izuku's green ones? He knew there had been a bit of a hassle with jealousy.
There had been a time where Hitoshi had been jealous of Izuku. A jealousy that he could understand when looking back on it in hindsight. After all, he and Izuku shared many small attributes that could lead to the conspiracy that they were related to. The freckled cheeks and green eyes being a key factor in this. He had heard countless times by strangers on the street about the comparisons between himself and his green-haired son. Many nights he spent up trying to give both boys the attention they needed before turning in to bed.
He had done his best to make sure that Hitoshi felt the same adoration as Izuku did. He'd taken his mothers advice and tried his best to show them the same love. The same amount of adoration during that stint of jealousy on Hitoshi's part. He was more than happy to give his sons the adoration they needed. Whether that was staying up to watch a movie or show of their choosing or giving them a cuddle. And it worked. It was a slow going process to work that jealousy out of his indigo-haired son but he'd done it.
Hitoshi and Izuku, besides that brief jealousy from Hitoshi, were now conjoined at the hip. The best of friends. Brothers. Together they soothed one another at night as he began weaning them away from finding their ways into his bed after bad dreams. When he spent nights heaving the sleeping boys up the stairs to their beds again. He had been more than happy to have them cuddle up to him, but he didn't want them too codependent on him. Especially when he knew there would be late nights when he'd be out of his bed.
However, it doesn't seem to stop the boy from climbing into his bed when he came home late at night. Many nights of grueling work of decorating or stacking books on shelves stop find Hitoshi and Izuku cuddled up together in his bed. Waiting for him. Late nights were made a little worth it when he would come home to find the boys curled up together. Sleeping after having clearly waited for him. He always wondered how they snuck past Oboro and Nemuri who would claim they didn't see them sneaking down nor heard them.
However, there were late nights that he spent on his own at home. When he was puttering around his home trying to get the house ready for the morning. To get ingredients for breakfast ready and convenient for him in the morning hours. When he would make sure that lunches and thermoses were filled up for the boys to have a hot meal at school. Anything to make sure that the next morning would run by them smoothly. But since taking his work on at the school? Well, he didn't have much time at night to putter around.
Sitting on his bed, Hizashi flipped through his binders with the clear sleeves holding papers meant to be graded. Old papers to pass back with a low sigh to himself. His pen resting in the middle of the three metal rings in the middle of the open binder. His laptop balanced warmly on his shins with the screen half opened with the glow of it spreading over the keyboard. Essays having been passed into the student portal were waiting for him to grade. Something that he knew he needed to tackle before the end of the week.
He sighed out quietly to himself when he lifted his hands up to push his hair away from his face. Taking the hairband from around his wrist to tie his hair back. His eyes were itching with that familiar burn as he blinked once, twice, with his hair tugged into a sloppy ponytail. He then slipped his fingers down beneath his glasses to grind into his eyes fiercely to easy that itching burn to them. Something he was finding all the more common on these late nights of his. It told him he was tired. That he needed to close his eyes a bit.
When he stayed up well past midnight just to get all of his work done for the next day. Shouta had, much to his word, come over to help him with his grading this past Sunday. They were officially starting their first week of work at the school. It left him three more weeks of working himself to the bone like this. At least the pay was more than generous from the school. It made it just a bit more bearable. He sighed out when he dragged his fingers over his eyes down to his cheeks where he tugged at the skin below them.
Dropping his hands to his thighs with a smack, he rolled his head lazily when he turned his head sharply to the side. A sharp, cracking pop ringing out as he let out a slow breath. A sigh as his lashes fluttered on his cheeks when he then let himself fall backwards. Hitting the bed causing it to bounce beneath his weight as his feet remained crossed over one another. Crawling up his throat, a yawn bubbled out of him as his arms stretched up above his head. His ponytail pressing annoyingly as he then opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling.
He'd been too busy for his own liking. He really did think of quitting. Especially with how awfully he was missing his position in his store. He wants nothing more than to spend more time around his store to stack the shelves or to even bookkeep or help his works count the till. Anything to be involved in his main job once again. To lose himself into the familiar smell of books around him. The coffee that was now brought freely into his store with window seats and the big cushy chairs in the back taken up by customers.
Oboro had, much to his delight, taken the choice out of his hands once his website was put up to make him new business cards. Something that had been given to him on Sunday afternoon when the couple had come over to have dinner together. It had been strangely hilarious watching Nemuri joking with Shouta. In watching the woman twist him up until the black-haired man was red faced. It was adorable, really. Watching the two of them bouncing joking insults off of one another as grading was finished up by the two of them.
Even his boys seemed to get a kick out of having their Godparents over Sunday night. In watching Shouta grow red until the attention was turned onto him leaving him also red-faced. Leaving him embarrassed with Izuku giggling in his ear while Hitoshi pointed out the red faces to everyone in the room. Sunday had dragged on far too long for his liking, but he couldn't deny that he absolutely adored how his afternoon had been spent. That Shouta felt comfortable enough to be so catty with someone other than himself.
He didn't know how he expected an interaction between Nemuri and Shouta to go down, but the catty back and forth hadn't been it. There was a familiarity between the two of them that he was lost on. Something he hadn't seen before, but he had to figure if Shouta was best friends with Oboro? Well, then there was no doubt that the black-haired man spent years around Nemuri as well. It honestly, truly, boggled him that they hadn't met sooner when the two of them were best friends with the couple.
Nemuri was his best friend in the same way that Oboro was and yet he had yet to cross paths with Shouta. At least until that fortunate day in his store for the first time back in August. He was just grateful that he knew the black-haired man now. Even if that meant he had a bit of a crush. A bit. It had him snorting when he let his eyes flutter shut again with his glasses sliding back with frames pressing to his cheekbones and eyebrow. What was that last Saturday? He didn't know what to think of it. The talk.
How Shouta's cheek had felt beneath his fingertips that tingled with the urge to trail over it again. To caress the sharp edge of his jaw. To touch those full lips and trace out their shape. To trace the features of Shouta's face with his fingertips until he had it memorized. To dedicate an afternoon just touching the black-haired man until his cheeks were turning red. Until lips were parting and, inevitably, coming down on his. Oh, he swore he'd never been more frustrated than when his sons had burst down the door that afternoon.
He'd been so close. So, so close to kissing the black-haired man when he'd been dreaming of it for days. When it'd been all he could think of when he thought of that afternoon. Where this desire to kiss the black-haired man came from, he might never know but God if he didn't want to get it out of his system. If he didn't want to put his pining to rest with just one touch of those full lips to his own. That's all he'd need. All he wanted. And yet he'd been deprived of it, and he felt like ripping his hair out. Screaming.
Especially with the distance between them at work where they spoke in polite mannerisms. Nothing more and nothing less. Nothing to prove they were best friends outside of work. It had been all too easy to agree, however, to keep his distance from the black-haired man while at work. God knows he wanted to talk to Shouta openly while at work, but he respected Shouta's decision to keep themselves separate. Polite but nothing more than mere acquaintances to one another when they were on the clock.
It was frustrating but he had agreed to do it. Hell, he even understood it now that he knew what Shouta's stance on it was. To get the inside view as to why he had been acting so coldly. He had told Shouta that he would agree and that if he'd known from the beginning it would save them so much strife. And he was honest about it. If Shouta had just told him he wanted to keep some distance from him during their work week then he'd give it. He would have happily played along if he had only known what his friend wanted from him.
If he'd known that Shouta wanted to keep things professional then he'd have acted the part. He'd have given Shouta the type of professional friendship he wanted if he'd known. He wished the black-haired man had mentioned it sooner but now that he knew? Well, now that he knew what it was Shouta wanted, he'd act accordingly. He'd keep his distance while also remaining polite. He'd be helpful but not overly so. If anything, he was finding a solid friendship with Yagi, Thirteen and Snipe. They were kind enough to him.
But he couldn't help but note the way Shouta's gaze flared before dropping when he would take off with his three friends. The regret in the tight set of his jaw but he was remaining polite but distant with Shouta who requested it. So much angst had been lost to not knowing what the hell Shouta wanted from him. Why he was treating him so coldly. At least now he knew. At least now he understood Shouta who had been a mystery to him beforehand. He'd been given the answers he'd been looking for.
He shifted slightly with his lashes lifting upwards as he stared at the ceiling above him again. His fingers twisting idly into the blanket beneath them with that itching desire that had been plaguing them for the past five days. Five days recalling the feel of the black-haired man's stubble beneath his fingers. How he'd held so still while he'd been tracing his fingers along the length of his jaw. So sharp it was. When he'd watched that Adam's Apple bob in a swallow before he'd traced his fingers back up Shouta's pink cheek.
How lovely that blush was as it smothered itself across his cheeks. How those dark eyes had locked onto him intensely. How those full lips had parted ever so slightly with wavering breaths being taken by the both of them as they leaned in closer. What would have happened if his sons never interrupted them? What if he hadn't sent Shouta away after that? Where would he be now? Would he be wrapped up in Shouta's arms with his skin rubbing against his? Would he be skin-to-skin with the man he had the worst crush on?
Would he have confessed his crush on the black-haired man after that kiss? Shouta had claimed he didn't know if he liked him that way and he'd seemed so hesitant. So scared. As if it were somehow the wrong answer to say that he didn't know whether he had a clear answer on his feelings for him. He didn't know if Shouta was lying or if he was trying to save face but he adores the black-haired man nonetheless. He could admit that much to himself; he adores Shouta. Admires him. He could even say he felt a platonic adoration.
A romantic adoration. There was something captivating about Shouta that drew him in like a damn magnet. Even if he hadn't said he had those feelings for Shouta, he knew that eventually they'd come out. Eventually emotions couldn't be ignored. They couldn't be denied much longer. He'd had this crush on the black-haired man for three months now, hadn't he? Had he had a crush from the start? Four months rather than three? He had not a clue but he was five months into his friendship with Shouta and he was certain of one thing.
Looking back at their interactions, their moments together, that he had a developing crush back then. And nowadays? That crush had doubled. Swelled leaving him nervous around the black-haired man in an odd way. He has the worst crush on the black-haired man that was doing nothing but growing. It was undeniable even to himself. He could admit it without his face growing hot, at the very least. He was able to admit it proudly to himself when he had a moment alone. Practicing it to desensitize himself to it.
The fact that he had a crush on Shouta was well-known by Nemuri, Oboro, Taishiro, and he was more than certain that Tensei knew it as well judging on the way the dark-haired man had spoken to him the last time he'd been on a FaceTime call with the three of them. It had left him red-faced when he got off the call but he was at least honest with it now. All who knew kept tight lipped about it and he couldn't be more thankful for it. There was nothing he appreciated more than his friends willing to keep this secret for him.
For him to at least be honest with his friends who always had those Cheshire grins when it came to the topic of Shouta. He wanted nothing more than to do something about it. There was something about the charged moments he'd been sharing with Shouta. How did this go from soaking up the joy of having the black-haired man near him to something that was spiraling out of his control? A crush that did nothing but throb in his chest? What did he do about it? When did it change so drastically before his eyes?
How could one night on Halloween flip everything on its head? How did this crush come to the surface in just four months time? How did he suddenly feed into the feelings he'd felt budding in his chest that afternoon when Shouta gave him his coast? He didn't know what to do with himself but God if he didn't replay the afternoon in his office over and over. If his fingers didn't tingle, twitch, with the memory of the black-haired man's cheek beneath his fingers. His skin was dry but it was nice to touch. Warm.
The stubble scratching against the tips of his finger when he'd caressed his cheek and jaw. The softness to that black curl he tucked behind Shouta's ear. What would Shouta do if he knew that he wanted him? That he had this horrid crush that did nothing but swell in his chest? Swell in his throat leaving him choked up? God knows the charged moments he'd been sharing with the black-haired man certainly didn't help a damn thing. God, what were those moments? When he'd been pinned against the sink with Eri in his arms?
When Shouta had been leaning in close over his desk like that? God, there was a crackling tension to them that settled over his skin just to recall. He'd felt desire in his life. He'd felt lust. He knew what it was like to want someone with all of his being. Knew what it was like to desire someone. Fuck, he knew what it was like to tear a lovers clothes off as soon as the door was shut. What it was like to bury himself between a lovers thighs and drown himself in their scents. Their tastes that he could recall faintly.
What it was like to have someone between his own legs that would shake as he howled out. He knew what it was like to lust after someone. What it felt like to hold a flame of desire for another. But God if he didn't find his hands itching to rip at Shouta's clothes. To just yank him close and crush his lips to the black-haired man's. To feel the plushness of those full lips against his. What would happen after that? He had not a clue. But fuck, he just wanted to relieve some of the tension that had been running under his skin.
The itching desire to touch Shouta's face. To touch him properly. To curl his arms around his broad shoulders as hands slid along his waist. He wants nothing more than to bottom for the first time in years. To properly bottom for the man. A few of his past lovers had requested he top for the night and he never had a problem with putting his strap on. He liked to bottom better when his legs were shoved up to his chest. His shoulders as hips struck at him. There was nothing he liked more than to bottom.
Fuck, he hadn't bottomed in what felt like years. His last partner had requested he use his strap more often than not and with men who wanted it? Well, he had happily given up the chance to bottom. God what he'd give to bottom properly. What would it be like to bottom with Shouta? He'd spent nights wondering what kind of lover Shouta would be after his masturbation. After he'd touched himself for the first time to the thought of his best friend. It still left his face hot to recall that night. The fact he'd done it not once but twice now.
He couldn't stop himself from wondering what type of lover Shouta would be. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe it was alright. But he never wanted so badly in his life for a man to rip his clothing off, slam him down on a desk and fuck him the way he wanted Shouta too. He wanted that man to ravage him. He wants to devour Shouta and wants the black-haired man to devour him in return. Leave not a trace of him behind. He'd never felt so hungry for another man in such a long time that it was shocking.
It was startling. He didn't know what to do with the emotion that twisted into his chest when he thought of that afternoon. Of the moment when he'd been pinned to his sink after his very first day of work. Did he just want to fuck someone for the sake of fucking them? Was it just unfortunate that somehow, someway, Shouta had unintentionally become the point of his desires? Was Shouta just unfortunate to come across him when he'd been longing for a lover? Possibly. He knew it could just be an overlapping effect.
That Shouta just so happened to show up in his life around the time he was debating dating. About finding a one-night stand. But what if it wasn't? What if there was such a thing as fate? That Shouta would find his way into his store when he was drowning? Was it chance? A mere funny coincidence by the world that was played out for him? What did Shouta feel for him? If he felt something, judging by his answer in the office, Shouta had to be saving face. He couldn't blame him. He can't even admit to the man he had a crush on him.
He sighed out to himself when he heard a light rattle of the doors when he opened his eyes. He turned his head over to the bed but found nothing in the darkness of his half opened doorway. Was it a cat? Twix? Cappella maybe? Or Sterling? God knows that little gray cat of his followed after his calico like sun shined out her ass. They were bonded together beautifully, and he found it adorable that Cappella now had her own tiny, gray shadow. Groaning quietly to himself he stretched his arms up then shifted up onto his elbows.
Taking a breath before pushing off the bed to swing back up into a sitting position as he lifted his hands up to lightly tap at his cheeks. Okay, okay! Get two more essays done then he'd get to bed! Just two more! He felt that resolute determination welling in his chest when he opened the screen of his laptop. He pushed his glasses up with his knuckles gently. His fingers lightly touched the keypad as he gave a swirl before finding his mouse. Getting it into the middle of his screen where it glowed against the dark color of his email.
Taking a slow breath in, he took a moment to stretch his arms out with his fingers interlocking. He then took a moment to crack his knuckles when he heard another rattle to his doors. He blinked when there was suddenly the quiet sound of a shuffle that had his shoulders tensing. What was that? Was it a cat? Had Twix found something? Or had Cappella dragged Sterling across the floor by the nape as she had countless times since bringing her home? It was rather cute but was that happening? Or was it-?
"Dad?" Hissing in sharply when he jumped at the quiet, hushed voice spoken at his doorway, he snapped his head up to find Hitoshi standing there with wide purple eyes focused onto him. Hands twisting together against his stomach then tugging at the hem of his pajama shirt. Oh, no. No, he hoped Hitoshi wasn't sick. It was going to be cold and flu season but surely it wasn't starting now, was it? "My throat feels itchy. Can I have warm milk and honey, please?"
Glancing at the open screen of his laptop with the essays waited to be graded in the student portal along with the binder with his open answer book and pen resting in the metal rings. So much work to do in one night. His neck and upper back ached from his hunched over position on the bed when he let out a slow breath. Rolling his head to pop his neck again before uncurling his legs. Sliding to the edge of his bed, he stood up when he then smiled softly at his son. "Sure, kid, let's go make that, yeah?"
"Okay!" Hitoshi nodded when the six-year-old then raised his hands up towards him to which he slid his feet into his slippers. Then he began making his way across the carpet to the six-year-old who threw his arms around his waist. Burying his face into his stomach as feet planted onto his to which he slid his hands over wild indigo locks. Then he began to walk them down the hallway together. It reminded him of those early days with Hitoshi when he was a toddler holding onto his knee. "Hey, Dad?"
"Hmm? What's up, Toshi?" He slid his hands through those wild locks to work a few knots out when the boy tilted his head back. Purple eyes locking up onto him, he noted the bags forming beneath his son's eyes. Delicate blue smudges that had him frowning slightly when he waddled them out into the softly light kitchen due to the sink light, he kept on for Izuku and Hitoshi. He made his way around the freezer then tugged open the fridge to grab the milk. "Is something wrong, bud? You look sleepy."
"I am sleepy, but my throat feels itchy, and it won't go away! And I want to sleep but my head won't stop thinkin'! It always does it when I wanna sleep!" He blinked down at the six-year-old who tightened his arms around his waist with his cheek squished up against his stomach. He hadn't thought once of his son having sleeping problems but staring at the delicate bags under his eyes? He felt a stab of guilt that he'd failed to notice it when Hitoshi nuzzled his cheek to his stomach. "I just wanna turn my head off, Dad."
"I am so sorry, Toshi, I didn't notice and that's my fault. Can you forgive me, darling?" He placed the milk on the counter then reached down to cup his son's cheek, his thumb rubbing over his cheekbone when the boy nodded before stepping off his feet. His arms from around his waist with his hands raising up to which he happily picked the boy up then sat him down on the counter. He reached up to gently squish his cheeks with his thumbs moving to caress cheekbones. "I'm a bad Dad, huh? I didn't even notice you were having troubles too."
"Is okay!" Small hands tapped the back of his hands when he reached behind the boy for his colorful mug. Frowning to himself when he poured just above half the cups worth of milk into the mug before shuffling over to tug open the microwave to slide the mug inside then snapping the door shut. Arms tightened around his waist with a cheek nuzzling itself to his stomach. "It's okay, Dad, really! It's always been like this! My head won't turn off then I fall asleep when I can't stay awake no more!"
Frowning down at his son, he slid his hands over rumpled locks when Hitoshi nuzzled his face into his stomach. Arms tight around his waist when he caught the faint thuds on the stairs. Was that- He couldn't help a light laugh when a sleepy Izuku came down the step. Hovering before the door in an uneasy sway on his feet before pattering forward with wild green curls bouncing as he rushed forward. The slap of his feet over the floor as he rubbed at his eye. "Where'd ya go, To?"
"Do you want some honey milk too, Izu?" Green eyes blinked groggily at him before his son nodded before shuffling forward to wrap his good arm around his thigh with his face burying itself into his hip. Leaning forward to snag a mug off the wall, he poured another cup of milk when the microwave beeped shrilly to which he tugged it open. Reaching in for the mug gingerly, he slid Izuku's mug in then shut the door. He opened the cap of the honey to drizzle the golden liquid into the milk. "My poor boys can't sleep tonight, huh?"
"Toshi was gone when I woke up." Izuku mumbled into his hip with his hand holding onto his pajama bottoms with tight grasps. He placed his honey down to slid his hand over green curls before picking up the spoon to stir it into Hitoshi's drink. It honestly looked quite good if he was honest with himself. Reaching down, he touched Izuku's wild green curls with a gently scratch. That casted arm pressed lightly to his thigh when he smoothed his hand over his hair then he handed the indigo-haired child his mug.
"Be careful, bud, okay? It's real hot so blow on it first, yeah?" Hitoshi nodded when he reached down to heave Izuku up into his arms with his casted arm curling lazily around his shoulders. Izuku's head pressing to his right shoulder with his face tucked into his throat. He held the boy close to his chest with his cheek pressing to wild green curls while Hitoshi blew gently on his milk. He swayed idly with a low hum as he kept his arms curled around the green-haired boy then with arms draped around him.
He watched Hitoshi blow gently on the hot steaming milk before attempting a sip only to jump. The microwave hummed quietly before him when Izuku yawned into his neck with fingers plucking at his hair idly. It was sweet. Unbearably sweet. Keeping one arm curled beneath Izuku, he reached out to make sure the cap to the honey was off with the spoon on the counter. A puddle of the honey milk forming under it from his stirring with Hitoshi's. "Dad?"
"Hmm? What's up, Izu?" He murmured to the child who mumbled into his neck when a small hand pressed to the other side of his neck. The microwave beeped them prompting him to open the door where he reached in for Izuku's warm mug and placing it on the counter. He squeezed honey in lazy drizzles into the milk before capping it then picking up the spoon. Stirring it into the hot milk gently hits off the ceramic of the mug when he left the spoon swirling lazily in the cup.
Shuffling past Hitoshi where he placed the groggy green-haired boy onto the counter. Dark green lashes struggling to stay up when he affectionately rubbed cheeks with thumbs before turning away to grab at his mug. He gave a few more stirs before lifting the spoon out of the milk to pop into his mouth. The hot metal soothing on his tongue as it hit off his piercing when he handed the boy his mug. "Dad, do you like Mister Aizawa? Do you like-like him like boys and girls like each other?"
Blinking at his sons who watched him curiously, he fought to keep the blush off of his face when Hitoshi began to gulp at his hot milk honey concoction while Izuku blew gently on his. The indigo-haired boy then sighed out when he tore his gazes from them with his lips pressing together. Struggling to keep himself from blushing when Hitoshi reached out with a free hand to touch his cheek. "It's okay, Dad! You always say it's okay to like other boys, right? That you like who you like?"
"My goodness, you do listen to me, huh?" He grinned which had both boys grinning tiredly at him when Izuku jumped when he attempted to sip at his hot milk that steamed gently. He then gently pinched Hitoshi's cheek with his thumb rubbing affectionately over it. He let out a sigh then when Izuku took a gulp at his hot milk. "Mister Aizawa is a very good friend, Izu. You'll find out some day what it's like to have a best friend! Someone who's not your brother and you'll understand it, yeah?"
The indigo-haired six-year-old gained a pondering expression before sipping at his hot milk with a deafening gulp in the softly lit kitchen. Hitoshi then lowered his half-drunk cup down with a milk mustache on his upper lip while his brother gulped at his hot milk beside him carefully. Hitoshi then licked his lips before smiling at him. "I think I like Denki! He's a good friend too! And Izu really likes Shouto! Does that mean that we have to like-like them, Dad? Or not?"
Sighing out, he reached out to ruffle wild green curls and indigo locks together. He was tired. The boys were clearly tired when Hitoshi lifted his cup up to gulp at his hot milk before draining his cup with a huff as he held out to him. He swiped the towel off the oven door and used it to rub Hitoshi's face clean while Izuku gulped at his own honey milk. "I think it's much too late for you to be considering crushes, Toshi, and I think it's time to get back to bed, don't you think?"
"Mhmm!" Izuku tilted his head back then with a deep breath to chug the rest of his hot milk. When he lowered his cup, he had milk smeared over his top lip and milk running down his chin. He quickly surged forward to wipe his chin to keep his shirt from becoming wet with the liquid. Izuku sighed as he rubbed his chin and mouth, his upper lip, quickly when Izuku raised his casted arm up with the good one. A yawn bubbling out of the child when he reached out for him. "Help me down? Please?"
"Alright, let's get you down, yeah? Izu, I promise next time I'll carry you back to bed, deal?" When his son nodded, he reached out with hands going to his armpits as he helped slid him down where his feet hit the floor with a thud. And then Izuku pattered forward with his little arms swaying by his sides. His casted arm clearly heavier than the other as he slid Hitoshi into his arms where the indigo-haired boy laid his head on his shoulder. "Alright, let's get upstairs, yeah?"
"Yeah!" Hitoshi nodded against his neck when he then began to make his way across the kitchen after Izuku who pattered down the hallway quickly. A bit sluggish when he began to climb the stairs as he closed the distance rather quickly with long, brisk strides. The thud of his socked feet was deafening as he flew down the hallway where he flicked the light on for them to see. He climbed up after Izuku who grunted as he made his way up when Hitoshi sighed. "Thanks, Dad. For carrying me."
"Anytime, Toshi! You boys are growing so fast that soon enough you'll be too big for me to carry up the stairs!" He loved the protesting sounds he got from his sons as Izuku made his way to the top before thudding down the hallway as he hopped up the stairs quickly. Trying to keep from falling up them as he made it to the landing then he walked down the short hallway to the bedroom. Swinging himself into the doorway of their bedroom, he entered the darkened room where Izuku sat on the edge of his bed.
"Dad, will you tuck us in?" Izuku questioned to which he nodded as he slid Hitoshi's arms from around his shoulders as he made his way into the room towards the boy's bed. He bent over to lay Hitoshi down as he grabbed at his comforter then brought it up to his chest. Tucking the boy in carefully, he then smoothed wild indigo locks away from Hitoshi's forehead as he slid his stuffed animals closer to him. Picking his cat plushie up from off the floor as small arms wrapped around it when he leaned down to kiss his forehead.
"Good night, Toshi. I'll call the doctor in the morning about your restless sleep, okay?" Hair rustled over the pillow when Hitoshi nodded to which he affectionately rubbed his thumb over Hitoshi's cheek before standing up then walking the short distance to Izuku. Gently scooping the boy up, he laid him out on the bed then grabbed his blankets. Bringing it up to his chest, he tucked him in as that cast arm rested above the blankets. Handing his stuffed animals closer to Izuku then picking up the octopus on the floor.
"Can we do something fun tomorrow after school, Dad? Pretty please? It's been snowing like crazy so will you play outside with me and To?" He smiled at the hope in Izuku's small voice as he smoothed those green curls away from his forehead. Leaning down, he kissed the bridge of his nose where those freckles smattered darker than the ones on his cheeks. Then his forehead as he stroked green curls gently before also rubbing his thumb affectionately against Izuku's freckled cheek. "I wanna play with you, Dad!"
"Of course we can! If there's enough snow overnight, then we'll play in the snow when we get home from school and after homework gets done!" He kissed his forehead again before straightening up as Izuku held his octopus tightly to his chest with dark lashes drooping down towards pink cheeks. He turned to make his way to the door with his feet thudding quietly over the carpeted floor as he then grabbed the door knob. "I love you, Toshi! I love you, Izu, and I'll see you in the morning!"
"Love you too, Dad! See you in the morning!" It was rather sweet hearing both boys perk up to chirrup at him. A sweet sound as he glanced over at both boys hugging their stuffed animals to their chest tightly. It was dark enough he couldn't quite make out the expressions on their faces, but it had him smiling softly as he turned to step into the hallway. Pulling the door shut behind him, he hummed softly to himself as the door snapped shut quietly behind him when he let out a sigh to himself.
Now that the boys were back in bed, he could get back to work, now, couldn't he? Or did he simply want to call it a night tonight? The essays and worksheets were due back Friday and it was only Wednesday. Surely, he could put it off for just a bit, couldn't he? He'll tackle it all tomorrow when he gets home from work. Or he could do it throughout the day anyway he could. That was possibly the smarter option if he was honest with himself. To chip away at it in between his lessons while his students were working?
Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? The idea of chipping away at his work so he could have less in the afternoon? All those late nights would have been avoided if he'd only thought of that sooner! He made his way down the small hallway with feet thudding quietly over the carpeted floor as he made his way to the stairs landing. Stepping down onto it, he then began to make his way down the stairs quickly with his feet thudding on the stairs. His hair swaying against his back as he made his way down them quickly.
Making it to the ground floor with a light thud as he took a long step off that bottom stair. Making his way down the hallway with the soft light over the sink beckoning him forward. Making his way into the kitchen, he made his way over to the counter to grab the empty mugs of honey milk and made his way over to the dishwasher. He tugged it open then tugged the top tray out to put the mugs into then snapping it shut. Wavering, he turned his attention to the gallon of milk on the counter when he decided to reach forward.
Down beneath the cabinet to grab his mug when he then turned to shuffle over to the milk gallon. He then unscrewed the cap then poured himself a mug full then opened the microwave to slip his mug into it. Pressing the buttons with the quiet beeps, he hummed quietly as the soft yellow glow of the microwave lit up its immediate area. Watching the mug spin round and round slowly on its tray, he turned to the sink where he tossed the spoon into after stirring up Izuku's milk and turned the water on.
Running the spoon under the hot water before flicking the water off of it as he turned the water off. Reaching up, he snuck his fingers beneath his glasses to scrub his eye. The idea of chipping away at his grading while at school was a damn good idea. There was nothing stopping him from doing it, was there? His students often were quiet and doing their own thing according to the lesson plans in his binder that the previous teacher had left behind. He could easily sit at his desk and do some grading while he was in the school building.
The same way he would tuck himself away in his office to go over building payments. Bills for his store and his home. There was nothing stopping him, was there? He was more than sure he wasn't the only teacher to think of doing this, now was he? The shrill beeping of the microwave tugged him out of his thoughts when he then shuffled back to the microwave to tug the door open. The soft yellow light blinding when compared to the softer light over the sink. Washing over his mid section and arms as he reached in for his mug.
Tugging it out of the microwave, he then placed it down gently on the counter to pick up the honey. Clawing it open with the edge of his nails, he drizzled honey into the steaming milk then dipping his spoon into the hot liquid. Swirling lazily through the hot liquid, he opened the cabinet with his free hand after capping the honey again. Sliding the honey up into the cabinet, he then gently shut it with a thud when he felt a nudge against his calf. Looking down he found Cappella twisting herself between his legs.
Sterling watching her with lazy flicks of her tail. Smiling down at the cats, he stepped carefully before working himself free from the cat as he grabbed the gallon of milk. He then walked forward with his hand reaching out awkwardly to open the fridge with a sucking sound followed by the rattle of items on the door. Sliding his milk in, he then shut the door with his hip when he lifted his steaming mug up to blow gently. Lifting it up to then sip at the scalding liquid, he winced the hot touch to his tongue.
Damn, how had Izuku gulped it all down like that? He'd have to check on his sons mouth in the morning to make sure he hadn't scalded it. Making his way around the freezer, he made his way down the hallway with the soft thuds of his feet on the carpeted floor ringing out. The sound of cats trotting after him had him smiling as he made his way down the hallway. Turning into his room when he took another scalding sip of his honey milk. That was another recipe he was going to have to teach Shouta.
It often worked with most sore throats and sicknesses. He'll have to make it for Shouta next time he comes over to visit with Eri in tow. Making his way to his bed, he placed his mug down on the bedside table when he climbed up onto the bed with a sigh then reached for his mug. Lifting it up to sip at the hot, sweet tasting milk as his lashes fluttered down to rest on his cheeks. Sighing out softly to himself, he took another gulping swallow with a shudder as it made its heated path down his throat to his stomach.
It had him sighing out quietly when he lowered the mug when his phone gave a ping. It was eleven-thirty at night; who could be texting him this late? Taking another large sip at the liquid, he put his mug down then twisted it to drape across the bed to grab at his phone. Finding a text from Shouta, he found his lips twitching when he unlocked his phone screen to then tap on the notification. There was a simple picture in the text; in the picture was a binder spread open and an answers booklet. A sight he'd been looking at minutes ago.
A page marked up in red with a pen held in those thick fingers. It looked delicate in Shouta's grasp and painfully thin. With it was a black stripe across the screen with a question. Grading sucks. It had his twitching lips curling up into a grin when another picture came in. This one taken at a distance, no doubt, showing Eri standing up in her pack and playing in Shouta's living room. Smiling at the camera showing off her teeth that were coming in beautifully. Her white hair wild like she has been sleeping or laying down previously.
Her tiny pink palms flashed at the camera with a sparkle of delight in those wide red eyes. As if he were right there waiting to scoop her into his arms. Shouta's living room, strangely enough, looked classy. Something he hadn't been expecting when it came to the black-haired man. There was a big TV balanced on a deep mahogany tv stand, black walls with deep red curtains peeking out of the left side of the picture. The carpet was a deep red with gold trimming and a leather sofa that was nicked in the right side of the picture.
There were countless pictures on his wall, but he couldn't make out their contents due to the light shining off of the glass. There were a few bookcases that lined the walls that were a deep mahogany that matched the TV stand. The coffee table. There was an elegance to the scenery of Shouta's apartment which had him blinking at the realization he'd never seen this man's apartment. He had always figured it to be bare bones but what was this elegantly put together living room? Maybe it was a glimpse?
After all, what other reason could there be for Shouta failing to invite him over? He could understand with two rowdy boys that he might not want him to come over. That he might want to remain private, and he didn't blame him one bit. However, he couldn't deny that despite the elegance of the room there was a bit of a bare bone sensation to it. There was also coldness. As if Shouta wasn't properly living in it but there were toys scattered in the living room floor from what he could see in the picture.
It was obvious from this one picture that a small child lived there but there were no real signs of Shouta living there. He smiled down at the picture when he reacted to the picture itself before typing out a brief message. Telling the black-haired man that he needed to get to sleep which merely got him a eyeroll emoji. He then told the black-haired man he'd talk to him in the morning. That he was going to sleep. He got a thumbs up emoji back which was then followed by a wish for him to sleep well and well wishes on his workload.
He then turned to his bedside table to plug his phone in with a quiet hum as he then turned to grab his binder to snap it shut with the answer book tucked into the binder. He snapped his laptop shut with a click when he then stood up to walk over to the dresser. Placing them down on his desk when he then tugged open his second drawer. Pulling out a soft pajama set and he snapped the drawer shut when he then walked to the edge of his bed. Putting his pajama's down he flipped his shirt up over his stomach to his chest.
Working it up towards his head as he got it carefully around his ears and his ponytail before balling his shirt up into his hands. Tossing it to the hamper where it sank into it when he then reached down. Curling his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pants together, he pushed them down from his hips to his thighs. Down to his knees where they then fell to his ankles to which he bent down to work his feet free from his clothing, he stepped out of them then balled the fabric up in his hands then tossed it to the hamper.
It got halfway in when he groaned quietly before grabbing the tank top of his shirt which he balled up then slid over his head. Sliding his arms into the straps then tugging the fabric down to his waist before reaching for his pajama bottoms. Stepping into them carefully then tugging them up to his hips, he then sighed out as he tugged his hair down from it's up do. He slid his hands through the locks, scratching at his head, when his phone pinged again. It had him curiously glancing at his phone with a shift of his weight.
Moving from foot to foot as he fussed with the waistband of his pants before making his way around the bed. The soft thuds of his feet over the carpeted floor when he sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting his mug up to gulp down the rest of his honey milk, he sighed out at the warmth traveling through his chest down to his stomach. He shuddered as he placed his empty mug on the bedside table beneath his lamp. Flicking the lamp on, he stood once more to shuffle across the bedroom to turn the overhead light off.
Plunging half of his room into darkness when he turned to stare at his bed. Such a big bed he had. What a shame he didn't have anyone to fill it with. It was a melancholic, bitter thought that had him pinching his lips slightly together with his gaze dropping down to the floor. As if he were ashamed of such a thought. Twisting his fingers into the hem of his tank top, he forced his feet to move to his bed. What would it be like to come back to bed to someone? What would it be like to go to bed to Shouta?
Would those arms open up wide for him? Would dare eyes sparkle excitedly at him? Would those full lips tip into that manic, Totoro-esque smirk of his? Would he be squished to his chest wit his face in his throat? Hands playing with his hair? His tank top? Would he be allowed to curl his arm around the black-haired man? Would he be allowed to spoon him? To cuddle up in those strong arms of his? Would the top of his head be kissed? Would Shouta smell like that musky cologne he'd gotten whiffs of that fall afternoon?
How warm would it be to be wrapped up in Shouta's arms? Curled up together beneath the blankets while hands smoothed over his hair? Fingers coming through to gently tug at the knots that might have formed in it after his shower? Would Shouta be affectionate? Would he kiss his face? His hair? Would he nuzzle him? Hold him tightly in those arms of his? Would he be crushed close to him? He sighed out quietly to himself as he came to a stop beside the bed when he reached under his pillow with a quiet sigh.
Grabbing at the blanket which he tugged at to then flip it back onto the bed revealing the fitted sheet. He sat on the edge then reached up to turn off his hearing aids then taking them out carefully before sliding them into their charging case. Something that he made sure was indeed plugged in. Plunged into silence, he reached up to take his glasses off before putting them in their glasses case. Reaching up beneath the lampshade, tugging at the blanket again to pull it back further, then sliding up into bed.
Beneath the blankets when he squirmed towards the middle of the bed with a sigh when there was a quiet sound of a cat jumping up. The light dips of pawed feet making their way to him when he opened his eyes to find the familiar form of Cappella coming closer to him. The blacks and oranges on her face, the smattering randomness to the colors along her body were always so beautiful. Her rich blue eyes peering at him when she then padded over the bed only to flop down on her ide against his chest and stomach.
Her tail tapping at him when he clutched the cat close with tiny arms wrapping around his forearm. He turned his face into the pillow with that silence weighing on his ears when the cat began to purr in his arms. A vicious purring that had him melting into the bed with what he could only guess to be a sigh as he slid his hand over her fur. Clutching her close. He wanted to hold someone. It was a choking surge of a desire but God if he didn't want to throw his arm around another person rather than his purring cat.
To relish in the feeling of having another person in his bed with him. What an odd desire that was but as he curled up with his purring cat, he knew this was better than nothing. He slid his hand up to scratch gently before her ear as her vibrations rocked his chest as he kissed at the to of her head. What would it be like to throw himself into bed to another person? Would Shouta be the type to cuddle up in bed just because? Would he be the type to hold him tightly or hold him loosely? Would those arms drape over his lower back?
Or would he be crushed to that broad chest of his? Would Shouta hold onto him like he was something precious? Something he had to be held close too less he disappear? He wants nothing more than to cuddle up to someone in his bed. Such a big, big bed that felt strangely lonely tonight. He let out a breath as he turned his face into the bed. Burying it into the soft material that carried the scent of his citrus based soaps. Of his hair mask. He could only imagine how nice it must be to sleep with the black-haired man's scent invading his senses.
How nice it would be to huff that vanilla scent that clung to the black-haired man. Huffing it down to his lungs as his head spun weakly. God, it sounded so unbearably nice. So unbelievably good that had his chest aching as Cappella continued her cheerful purring in his arms. What he'd give to wake in the morning to heavy weight of Shouta sprawled over it. It had him squeezing the cat gently as his lashes fluttered on his cheeks briefly. He needed to sleep. He was utterly exhausted tonight after his grading.
After watching his sons for the afternoon. God knows the boys might just find their ways into his bed again if that itchy throat of Hitoshi's managed to turn into a sickness of its own. He wouldn't doubt it in the slightest bit; winter time was the peak time for colds to be spread around by the elementary aged children. He needs to make sure that he got some bit of decent sleep tonight. Holding Cappella to his chest, he felt another cat curling against his lower back with fierce purrs of their own. Sterling?
It would make sense if the small cat was there given Cappella was tucked away in his arms. He rubbed his cheek against the material of the pillow case with a low sigh leaving him. He played with a paw with his thumb tracing the softness of her paw pads. Maybe one day, he'd have the pleasure of having someone in his bed. In having Shouta in his bed. Maybe some day he'd be able to explain the emotions he had bubbling in his chest. Shouta hadn't outright denied having feelings for him but he also hadn't confirmed anything.
He had said he was unsure of how he felt but that wasn't' a denial. He didn't here a rejection or that denial from Shouta. So did that mean he had a chance? Did that mean that there was a possibility that there could be more between them some day? It had his heart fluttering in his chest at the mere idea that the black-haired man could share the same feelings as himself. That some day he could end up with Shouta. It was a nice dream, wasn't it? The perfect type of dream that he found himself begrudging waking up from.
He could hope, couldn't he? And while it might be misplaced hope he could still do it, couldn't he? He could dream about a possibility where the black-haired man might share in his feelings. Even if it was only a silly, school-grade crush he had, it was still a crush. It was still something he'd know he'd have until it faded away. But he didn't want it to fade away. Not yet. Not when he was relishing in the rush of emotions. When it seemed like, for the first time, he might have someone interested in him for the first time in a long time.
It was something he didn't quite want to let go of just yet. He didn't want to crush on the first man he came across but he also didn't want to spurn the chance. He had not a clue how Shouta genuinely felt but he wanted to find out. He wanted to see if it was possible that something more could come from this. He wanted to know if, with time, Shouta could possibly be more clear on his own thoughts. That maybe, with enough time, the black-haired man could possibly return his feelings. That it was a possibility.
Could possibly share in the desires that were threatening to drive him insane. Threatening to drive him up the damn wall if he wasn't careful. Letting out another breath, he pressed his face into the pillow with his lashes trembling on his lashes with his lips pinching together tightly. He wanted nothing more than to lay this all down at his feet. To let Shouta know what was going through his mind. What he wanted exactly from this situation he found himself. He wants to tell Shouta what he was feeling. What he was possibly thinking.
But hat if it changed things for the worst? What if, instead of flipping everything on it's head, it tore them apart? What if Shouta didn't feel the same truly? What if, when given this time, he found that he only had platonic feelings for him? What did he do with this crush then? What did he say? Would he be forced to swallow his emotions down? Would he be forced to choke it down until he could think around it? So he could be friends with Shouta the way he had before he'd developed this whirlwind crush on him?
What did he tell Shouta if that were to happen? But what did he tell Shouta before? How did he admit out loud that he has a crush? It had his head aching as he pressed his face into the pillow with what he had to only judge was a low groan. It was a sound pitched low in his throat that rumbled lowly. It had to be one. He wouldn't doubt one bit that it was a low groan as he curled his knees up slightly. Twisting slightly in his spot to get comfortable with Cappella rumbling comfortingly in his arms with her fierce purring.
Paired with the vibrations of the cat behind him, he found himself melting slightly into the bed. He really needed to sleep. He'd come to bed with the intent of going to sleep and the honey milk was hot enough to soothe him. Hot enough to make a path down his throat through his chest and down into his stomach. He was relaxed. Tired. And all he wanted was to sleep but his thoughts wouldn't stop spinning around in his head restlessly. Stinging him over and over again until he felt ready to scream for them to stop.
To let him rest. To rip his own hair out just to make it stop. There was nothing he wanted more than to merely relax. To sleep. To not think of the black-haired man that seemed to plague his thoughts both during the daylight or nighttime it seemed. Tonight was going to be another rough one, wasn't it? He was absolutely exhausted. Run down. And as he turned his face slightly, he found himself yawning with his jaw aching faintly. Just sleep. He could think about Shouta all he wanted in the morning and then he'd go to sleep.
He just needed to sleep. And as another yawn over took him, he felt his mind floating lazily towards that line of sleep. The haze of it slowly draping over him when he pressed his head into the pillow happily with a nuzzle of his cheek to his pillowcase. It was unnerving not hearing the sound of his hair rubbing over the it from the action but he didn't want to think on it a moment longer. Didn't want to think about anything a moment longer tonight. Tomorrow he'd think about this. Tomorrow when he had a clearer head.
Tomorrow.
