Check Me Out

by CrypticBeans

Raising one child, fostering another and running a book store is no easy feat. Especially when Hizashi has to balance his two other jobs but he's doing it! Or so he believes. It's only when he finds himself meeting Shouta Aizawa that his world seems to flip over and spin on its head.

34. Jealousy and Aching Hearts

The light trying desperately to get through the curtains.

The heat trapped beneath his thick comforter.

The sour, ungodly taste on his tongue that lingered horribly.

Hizashi was sure his head was going to explode when his lashes fluttered on his cheeks. His hair clung to his cheek slickly from the drool that was dried on it. His legs spread wide to accommodate slender and muscular legs between them with an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. A hand holding onto the back of his shirt. The press of a muscular chest against his back that pushed him forward snugly into the slender frame of the woman in front of him.

His cheek smooshed against her breast; he cracked his eyes open slightly before his gaze went to the beam of light making its way across the bed. The floor. A slender beam of sunlight that glowed palely; so, was it early? Or was it the fading afternoon light? It was too pale for morning light. Was it bouncing off of the snow outside? It would explain the paleness of it. He blinked curiously before twitching his hands slightly to get a feel of where they were.

One was pinned beneath his side. The other resting against Nemuri's waist. He lifted that hand up slowly with a slow breath through his nose as he reached up to rub at his eyes fiercely. Trying to rid them of the dryness that was plaguing them when he fought the urge to groan. To whine or whimper. Anything that would give him away when he blinked experimentally before rolling his eyes once, twice. Focusing his gaze on the pale skin before him when he then lifted his head up from Nemuri's chest.

Where his head had been held to her breast. He looked up at his ceiling as his head hit the pillow with his gaze staring at the blurry view above him. Jesus, what did he do last night to make his body ache like this? What had he done with the couple that winded up with them in his bed? He turned his head to look at Nemuri's sleeping face first curiously. Her pink lips parted in sleep, her chest rising and falling slowly with her breasts pressed tightly together.

Her shoulder pressed up against her jaw. Her hand resting limply against his upper back and side with fingers holding onto him loosely. Her brow smooth of any wrinkles with dark purple lashes resting on her pink cheeks as she slept on. Peaceful. Tranquil. She always looked her most beautiful when she was a sleep. Her wild, dark purple locks spread over the pillow, fell into her face, and he reached his clumsy hand up to gently coax her hair away from her face.

And then he shifted his position slightly as he rolled onto his back with his head rolling over the pillow. He looked to the man sleeping soundly behind him. Dark blue lashes rested on bronze cheeks that were flushed a soft pink much like his wife's. Lips parted ever so slightly with his chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically, he swallowed against the sour taste in his mouth. Watching Oboro's lashes flutter slightly with his brow smoothed out.

Blue locks spread over the pillow wildly, over his shoulder, and falling into his face just like Nemuri's was. He reached up instinctively to coax the hair away from his face. He knew how annoying it was to wake up to hair in his face. The world around him was blissfully, beautifully silent around him. His neck was aching from the position he'd slept in, his body aching, and his mouth tasted absolutely awful. Had he thrown up last night? Had he drank something to leave such a sour taste?

He took a slow breath through his nose then raised his free hand up to rub his forehead. Fingers and thumb digging into his temples just enough to get him yawning before he could stop himself. He then blinked up at the view he had of his bedroom ceiling. The warmth of Nemuri and Oboro squeezed so close to him was the absolute best. It was always nice to have someone in his bed. He couldn't remember if the couple had taken the couch bed out last night.

There was so much about last night that he didn't remember. That he couldn't bring to mind after he helped Nemuri and Oboro finish off that bottle of white wine. He'd been amazingly drunk after that final hit and he remembered stumbling to the bathroom to take a piss. To get stripped down and into bed. But when did the couple join him? When did they sneak into his bed? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember changing into his pajamas either.

Squirming slightly, he judged that he'd merely thrown on one of his big pajama shirts and his boxers and crawled into bed. Nothing risqué but he couldn't help a weak blush when he took in what he wore. It wasn't a scandalizing thing and he'd definitely worn less to bed but he found himself a touch embarrassed. Vulnerable. But there was comfort in having so many legs weaved between his own. With arms draped around him as he was held securely between their arms.

There was a comfort to it even if he had that weak blush burning in his cheeks when he shut his eyes again. Another yawn crawling up his throat only to bubble out of him when he reached up to rub his eyes as they teared up. He hoped he wasn't loud. The last thing he wanted was to wake the couple up. It was bad enough that he was awake with throbbing temples as he laid between them. He wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep but he felt awkward.

Who did he turn too? Oboro? Or Nemuri? His neck was killing him from the position that he'd been sleeping in previously with his cheek to her breast but he knew better than to go back to sleep like that. He had his own pillow, thankfully, and the couple seemed to have brought their own pillows to his bed with them thank God. He didn't want to even think of sharing pillows with Nemuri or Oboro. He let out a sighing breath with his lashes fluttering on his cheeks before he was opening them again to stare at the ceiling again.

It was a blurry, white view above him when he let his gaze flick to Oboro. Then to Nemuri. The taste on his tongue was absolutely rancid. He didn't think he could last much longer with this taste in his mouth. Not to mention his mouth and throat were dryer than the damn Sahara Desert. He shifted slightly as he pulled his legs away from Nemuri and Oboro's with his hips screaming in relief. He had no clue how long he'd been in that position but clearly it was too long.

He shifted slightly before stretching his legs out with his arms stretching up above him. A third yawn bubbling up his throat when he then shifted before pushing himself up into a sitting position quickly. His temples throbbed viciously at him in response to the sudden change in position. His head swaying which had him wobbling in place as his hands clutched at the blankets with the hope of stabilizing himself.

He closed his eyes briefly when he lifted a hand up to touch the back of his stiff neck. It wouldn't kill anyone if he got some coffee on, would it? If he went and guzzled some water? Hell, he could probably take a shower to help his aching and sore body. He wanted to do all of that and sleep some more. He was utterly exhausted after his night last night and he could hardly remember it now. Everything felt so dreamy and far away in the morning light. The conversations blurred and vague.

Snippets he just barely caught that he couldn't help wondering if they were real or not. It had him sighing out with his fingers twisting into the blankets when he then let his head fall backwards. What did he want the most? He wanted more sleep. He wondered if he could get his mothers to watch the boys for an extra night. Just to let him recover from this hang over of his. He'd have to remember to shoot them a text and ask them. But for now, water and a shower sounded so absolutely lovely to him as he shifted in his spot.

Pillows squishing against the headboard, he worked his legs free and over the blanket and he then scooted down the bed quickly as he could without shaking it. Without waking the sleeping couple. He made his way to the foot of the bed where he stood up on shaky legs. Like rubber. He didn't know how his knees didn't give out on him. He sighed out quietly to himself with his hands reaching up to smooth over his wild hair and padded across the floor towards his open bedroom doors.

Trying to keep his movements quiet to avoid waking the couple, he slipped out into the small hallway of his. Moving with a purpose as his head throbbed with an intensity that had him wincing. He'd have to scrounge up his ibuprofen for the three of them. Walking down the hallway quickly, he rushed into the kitchen where he flew around his fridge and freezer to the cabinets. He threw it open carefully, grabbing a plastic cup, then turning to rush over to the freezer again.

Ice vibrated the cup as it fell into it when he switched it over to the water. Watching the stream filling his cup, he fidgeted antsily as he watched his cup fill with agonizing slowness. And once his cup was full, he lifted it up to gulp at the ice cold liquid. It was heaven going down his throat. Frigid as it passed through his chest to pool into his stomach. Oh, it was absolutely amazing. Better than a shower. Better than a coffee. He shivered as he gulped at the liquid greedily with his lashes fluttering on his cheeks.

Draining his cup in record time, he shoved it back into place and watched as it filled the cup again. This time he didn't feel antsy. He didn't feel impatient. He watched his cup fill to which he lifted it up to begin gulping it down again with that same greediness. Gulping that second down quickly, he then lowered it with trembling breaths making their way down his throat. Water slipping down his chin from the corners of his mouth as he raised his hand up to wipe the moisture away.

It had him sighing out to himself now that one need had been scratched off of his list. One thing to satisfy his hungover body. He swayed on his feet before gulping at the remaining water in his glass before shuffling over to place it on the counter. Watching the ice clatter together when he leaned against the counter to look out the kitchen window with a flinch. Muted light bounced off of the snow casting a pale light over the world that lit up his kitchen when he turned his attention to the stove.

Shuffling over, he leaned in close as possible over the burners to make out the time as he squinted. One in the afternoon, huh? Well, surely, he could text his mothers and ask them to have the boys sleep over one more night, hop in the shower, and then crawl back into bed. Or he could get in the shower first, put the ibuprofen on the bedside table for the couple, and then text his mothers about the boys staying with them. He liked that one better.

Nodding to himself, he pushed away from the stove with his temples throbbing. Maybe taking two ibuprofen would help with his throbbing head as well. He sighed out with his hands coming up to rub his face fervently with fingers scrubbing away the gunk in the corners of his eyes fiercely. He almost wished he'd put his glasses or hearing aids in but what was the point? If he was going to jump in the shower then there was no need for those things.

Turning away from the stove, he found himself yawning again before dropping his hands away from his face. Blinking once, twice, before he began to pad forward across the kitchen as he left his glass of ice behind on the counter. The tiled floor was cool under his feet as he made his way forward with the hem of his large shirt dancing against his thighs. Falling off of his shoulders slightly with the worn collar sliding against his skin. He padded across the kitchen, around the fridge and freezer.

Walking around it as he stepped onto the carpeted floor of his small hallway. He hoped it muted his footsteps but he tried to walk slower while keeping his steps even. Walking down the hallway cautiously when he reached his open doors as he stepped over the threshold with his gaze going to the bed. Nemuri had rolled over and curled up on her side slightly and Oboro had shuffled closer to his wife, spooning her the same way he'd been spooning him.

He couldn't help but smile softly at the couple cuddled up in his bed. Glad there was some blankets sprawled over the pillow for him to slip into bed again after his shower. His temples were throbbing viciously as he squinted slightly with his hand raising to his stiff neck to knead at it as he walked into the room quietly. He walked over to his dresser where he tugged open the left middle drawer. Reaching in for a tank top and pair of pajama pants, he shut the drawer carefully.

He then opened the top drawer to grab a fresh pair of boxers before shutting the drawer slowly, carefully before looking over his shoulder. It was hard to tell how loud he was when he didn't having his hearing aids in; he was trying his best to be quiet. The couple on the bed hadn't so much as twitched as he then crept forward quickly with even steps as he made his way to the bathroom. Making his way around his big bed, across the floor quickly while arching up on the balls of his feet slightly as he put a pep to his step.

He got into his bathroom where he flicked the light on and placed his clothing on the sink counter. He looked awful. The dusting of pale blue bags stood out from his exhaustion, eyes bloodshot, and he looked pallid today. His hair stuck up wildly around his face and shoulders from his curled up position and his cheeks were flushed. He looked rough after a night of drinking but he was hoping the shower and a power nap would be the answer.

He was battling the hangover that bashed at his temples. A screaming pain that did little to help the nausea twisting into his stomach as he opened the mirror to grab the ibuprofen. He tried to keep from rattling the bottle too much as he twisted the cap open and grabbed two pills for himself. Capping it again, he held his pills to his palm as he padded back to the bedroom where he crept to the bedside table to place the bottle down.

Then he crept back to the bathroom where he shut the door behind him gently this time with the vibration of the light thud fanned beneath his fingers. All too aware of the noise he was making, he tossed his pills into his mouth then turned the sink on. He never liked sink water but he'd already chugged all his water in the kitchen and hadn't brought a fresh glass with him so sink water would have to do. He cupped palmfuls that he brought to his mouth until he was satisfied, he had a good mouthful and swallowed his pills down.

The taste of the water didn't help a damn thing but as he stood before the mirror again, he then reached for his toothbrush with a sigh. He might as well; the awful taste wasn't going to go away. And it was making his stomach squeeze in on itself with nausea as he opened the cabinet again to grab his toothpaste then shutting it firmly. The mirror trembling gently as he ran his toothbrush beneath the gushing water then uncapped his toothpaste and squeezed it onto the wet bristles.

Shoving his toothbrush into his mouth, he began to scrub at his teeth with his left hand reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. It felt thick and knotted; a wild mess from his sleeping position. He brushed his teeth quickly when he turned on his feet to pad across the bathroom to his shower where he stuck his hand past the curtain to grab the handle. Turning the water on when he held his hand out to feel the water pelting over his hand.

It had to be deafening; he hoped it didn't wake the couple in the other room. He planned on going to bed once he was cleaned up and he didn't want them waking up unnecessarily. He hummed, pitching it down low in his throat with the attempt to be quiet. Not wanting to make too much noise as he padded back to the sink where he caught foam running down his chin ticklishly. Brushing his teeth quickly, he bent over the sink to spit out the foam building there.

Then he ran the brush over his tongue; doing his best to reach the back with not so much as a gag. He was glad he had close to no gag reflex. It was the greatest gift life could have given him. Or genetics, he should say. At least if he had to be deaf, he had no gag reflex. A give and take situation. He hummed as he scrubbed over his tongue before bending over to spit into the sink as he shoved his toothbrush beneath the rushing water.

Tapping it off then cupping a palmful of water to his hand to sip into his mouth which he swished quickly but thoroughly before spitting it out. Placing his toothbrush back into the holder, he reached down to grab the hem of his large shirt. Bunching it in his hands, he flipped the shirt up over his stomach and chest then up over his head. His hair bunched annoyingly but it slipped through the neckline as he got it up and over his head.

He tossed it to the floor in a heap then curled his fingers into his boxers as he wiggled his hips to get them down. Pushing them down his thighs, he let them fall in a heap around his ankles as he stepped out of them then padded forward towards the shower. He stuck his hand past the curtain feeling the hot water waiting for him and he hummed softly again before pulling the curtain back. His neck ached, his back and hips ached from the position he slept in and his head felt ready to blow.

Pain clouded it like a foggy, dense cloud that throbbed in his temples as he took a breath when he stepped over the edge of the tube. And then he was diving fast first into the shower as he stepped into it, pulling the curtain shut behind him, and it shot through him like a jolt. Turning on his feet with water sloshing over his feet, he let his head hang forward as he let his showerhead pelt water at his neck. Running down his back, over his ass, and trickling down his legs. It felt good.

Even if his head was a pounding cloud of pain, his temples throbbing, the heat of the water soaked into his skin as a shiver raced over him. He hadn't been aware he was so cold. He shivered again with the hot water pelting at his neck as he coaxed his wet hair forward over his shoulders. He shivered again at the hot water rushing down his back and thighs with his hands hanging down by his sides. His eyes shutting as he took a slow, even breaths through his nose as he let the hot water work its magic.

He couldn't help but wonder if it would perhaps be better to take a bath later tonight but he didn't want to waste water. He was already taking a shower so what would a bath do? If he was still sore in a few days' time, he'd get in a bath. Lifting his heavy head up, he was surprised by how much better his neck felt as he let his head tilt backwards instead. Letting the water flow over his scalp and through his hair as he coaxed his wet hair from over his shoulders.

Letting the wet locks soak through with the hot water running over his scalp. Slipping down his forehead slightly as he swayed on his feet with his hair plastering against his skin. Soaking through effortlessly as he swayed on his feet with his lashes tickling his cheeks. It felt so good. He felt sluggish, tired, but the hot water felt absolutely magical on his scalp and back. It wasn't going to rid him of his hangover but God if that didn't feel good on his head and back. On his skin.

He swayed on his feet slightly with his lashes tickling his cheeks as water continued to pelt at his head while running through his hair along his scalp. It felt nice. The pressure in his head was almost too much for him but he knew in a matter of time the ibuprofens were going to work on him. He just needed some more sleep and he'd be perfectly fine, he was sure of it. Sighing out to himself wiht his eyes opening to give him a blurry view of the ceiling and wall as water pelted at him.

Gushing down his back. He might as well get to work on detangling his hair and getting himself cleaned up. He'd talk to Nemuri and Oboro about possibly ordering in before his friends went back home tonight. He just can't will himself to stand on his feet in the kitchen and cook a big meal for the three of them. He sighed out through his nose as he lifted his head up which felt heavy as his wet hair plastered itself to his skin.

Reaching up, he began to comb his fingers through the locks carefully, slowly, as he tugged at loops and knots in his hair. Being mindful of the tugs, he worked the knots apart as he felt that tickle of thirst coming back for him. He'd definitely get another glass of water before heading to bed; he might regret it with all the bathroom trips that would come from it but he was thirsty. Unbelievably thirsty.

Tugging the knots apart in his hair, he combed his fingers through the locks before reaching over for his shampoo. Squeezing the soap into his palm, he then placed the bottle back on the ledge and lifted his hand up. Smoothing the soap over his hair, he gathered it up and began to scrub at the locks. The scent of his soap was absolutely refreshing. It was strangely calming as he inhaled that citrus scent of the soap that he scrubbed and kneaded into his hair before tilting his head back.

He turned to put his back to the water again. Working on scrubbing the soap out of his hair with a soft hum to himself as he ran his fingers through the locks. Suds sliding down his back, over his ass, and streaming down his legs. And he couldn't deny it but there was something about the silence that felt so comforting. Felt so damn good to have the world on mute for just a little while. To exist in this small bubble under the showerhead as the citrus scent of his soaps filled the steamy air creating a delightful bubble.

One where he didn't have to think. Where he could comb his fingers through his hair with soft sighs leaving himself. It was nice to freshen up after a night of drinking but God knows he can't wait to crawl back into bed for a few minutes. His head pounded but there was something that helped that aching pain; the scent of the soaps had his tense muscles relaxing. He didn't know if citrus was a comforting scent but to him it was.

He scrubbed at his hair, combing his fingers through it, then wringing his hair out to rid it of the shampoo the best he could and reaching for his conditioner. Squirting a palmful into his hand, returning it to the shelf, he gathered his hair up once again to scrub into the locks. Kneading at his scalp wiht nails dragging over it sent shivers down his back. Scrubbing at his hair to suds it up, he turned on his feet with water pelting his chest comfortingly and running down to his stomach.

His hips. Running down his thighs. He hummed softly to himself as he scrubbed the locks of hair happily. He tipped his head back to bare his throat to the water as it rushed down it and his chest. It felt nice. Relaxing. He felt like he was slowly but surely come to life once again. That after a night of heavy drinking, he was finally going to feel human rather than the husk he felt he was when he woke.

He scratched at his scalp, scrubbing the locks eagerly, and then he turned putting his back to the water as he tilted his head back. Running his fingers through his hair with the water as he worked on washing the soap out of his hair happily with a low hum to himself as he scrubbed the locks. Running his hand over the top of his head as he combed his fingers through the wet, silky locks delightedly. He weaved on his feet beneath the spray of the shower as he slid his hands down to knead at his neck.

His shoulders. Rubbing into the tense muscles as he swayed back and forth gently with his hips guiding the motion. Rinsing his hair out, he glanced over at the hair mask. He could use it now or he could wait until he took a bath to use it. He pinched his lips together slightly before running his hands through his hair to make sure the soap was washed out of it before reaching for his container. Unscrewing the cap, he dipped his fingers into the pale yellow, citrus scented mask and scooped a large glob out of it.

He raised his hands up to rub over the top of his head then closing the container carefully and returning it to the shelf. He then raised his hands up to gather his hair together as he began working the mask over the locks thoroughly. Spreading it from the top of his head down to the ends of his hair. Running his hands over his hair, he squeezed the wet locks as he made sure they were coated evenly before turning his attention to the small timer on his shower wall.

He set the time for six minutes then turned with his chest facing the water again. Streaking down his chest and stomach as he pressed his hands to the cold shower wall as he leaned against his hands. It was hard to remember last night; what they did, what they talked about, what he did. He was drunker than intended but he remembered the conversation about fucking Shouta. His face felt hot at the memory of that fuzzy conversation as he bounced himself slightly with the clock tapping against his upper back with his movements.

He hadn't denied it. Hadn't said that he didn't want to fuck him and he knew Nemuri and Oboro would use that against him. If they even remembered the conversation, that is. Hell, he didn't even remember exactly what was said but he knew they'd said it. It was hard to recall the conversations that might have followed; they were murky. Half forgotten. It made his temples throb trying to wrack his brain to figure out last night.

What he did. He didn't want to remember but he felt he was forgetting something. Forgetting something important. But what was he forgetting? What was he failing to remember? He pinched hi slips together slightly with his blurry view across the shower at the glistening knob as his fingers pressed into the shower wall. He was sure he could ask Nemuri and Oboro about it when they woke up. Surely, he'd be reminded of last night if they remembered anything, right? It's not like they'd keep the information to themselves.

There was nothing he wanted more than to question his friends about it but he knew there was no point in waking them and asking. He bounced himself slightly with the smell of citrus wafting in the steamy air that rolled off the hot water. A steamy, citrus scented bubble that had him relaxing slightly as he bounced himself slightly. If it was so important he was sure that he would remember it, wouldn't he? He'd helped finish off the wine with Nemuri and Oboro.

He remembered stumbling to bed and changing but what happened after? Even those memories were faint to him and he couldn't recall it with proper clarity. He sighed out to himself as he drummed his fingers on the cool wall of the shower. Last night had been fun, that much he knew and he didn't need to have clear memories of it. It had been nice having a good dinner with the couple and sitting around to drink afterwards. Laying across the couples lap as he poked fun at Oboro who poked back.

The memories felt wobbly; like they were overfilled water balloons he was struggling to recall. He didn't black out but he'd been toeing the line when he decided to go to bed. Most points of the night he didn't recall but he knew with the right prompting he'd be sure to remember. He pushed off the wall, turning to the timer when it began beeping shrilly. Turning it off, he stepped under the showers stream once again with a shiver as fresh water ran over his damp skin.

Soaking into his hair as he began working the mask out of his hair the best he could as he slid his fingers through silky wet locks. He'd talk to Nemuri and Oboro about what happened last night when they woke up. He hoped their memories would be better but he doubted it. He remembered distinctly the two of them passing the bourbon bottle between one another. Hell, he'd taken quite a few swigs of it before turning in for the night.

Running his hands over his hair again and again, he combed his fingers through it as he worked the mask off of his hair. He hoped to God he hadn't done anything that would negatively impact him. He hoped he hadn't done anything stupid. He wasn't normally a sloppy drunk but he couldn't help but feel he'd done something wrong last night. That he'd done something unforgiveable. It had him biting at his lip as he washed his hair clean then reached for his loofah.

He picked it up with his body wash and squirted it onto the sponge. Kneading it between his hands beneath the water after putting the bottle back down as the sponge sudded up in his hands. He then carefully got to work on cleaning his neck with suds running down as he then turned his attention to his chest. Doing his best to make sure the piercings didn't catch on the studs of his piercings before making his way down to his stomach. His hips. Shoving the sponge between his legs to scrub carefully at himself.

Moving his sponge to his inner thighs. The backs of them then down his legs. Trying to get to his back the best he could as he slid the sponge over his ass to his lower back. Scrubbing at his skin then bringing the sponge forward to rinse off as the soap ran down his skin in lines as he turned under the water to make sure he was rinsed off. Hanging his sponge up, he grabbed the showerhead off to target his chest, neck, between his thighs and his thighs themselves along with his legs.

Once he was sure he was soap free, he placed the showerhead back on the mantle then ran his hands over his hair again. He then reached out to put his hand on the knob with a slow, deep breath being taken as he tensed instinctively. It was going to be cold. He'd be cold. He took another breath then twisted the knob quickly to turn the water off. Water sloshed over his feet as he shuddered before groaning to himself; he'd forgotten to grab a towel.

He pulled the shower curtain back then stepped over the lip of the tub onto the wet matt. He shivered as he brought his other foot up with water splattering onto the matt. He then shuffled forward to open the cabinet doors to grab a towel where he got to work on toweling his hair off. Squeezing the water from his hair then using the towel to wipe off his chest, his shoulders, arms and bending over to target between his legs once more and his legs.

Once he was satisfied, he wrapped the towel around his waist as he then dug out his blow-dryer. It was inevitable that someone was awake out there; just because he couldn't hear doesn't mean that he might have woke someone up with his shower. He frowned at the steamy mirror before reaching out to plug the blow-dryer into the outlet and powered it up. He couldn't hear it but he didn't doubt it was deafening as he lifted it up to begin working on drying his hair.

Running his fingers through wet locks delightedly with the steam carrying that citrus scent he knew so well. It was nice. A warm little bubble even if he was shivering as the air attacked his damp skin. God, he wished he could shake off the fear that he'd done something wrong. The worry he did something last night. But what was it? What had he done last night that his brain was conveniently forgetting? The memories were vague but he'd done something, hadn't he?

He remembered Nemuri scolding him playfully and he remembered stumbling to the bathroom but what had he done in between? He wanted to figure it out. Needed too. Moving the blow-dryer over his hair, he fluffed and combed his fingers through it relentlessly as he licked his lips. Catching the lingering taste of toothpaste lingering on his lips. He sighed out through his nose was the hot air blasted over his scalp. Over his ears.

It felt off knowing any other time it would be blasting his hearing aids with a resulting feedback. Instead, he merely had the hot air blasting over his hears as he did his best to make sure his hair was drying up. It didn't need to be perfectly dry but just enough so he could go back out to his bedroom and crawl back into bed. Or maybe he should crash on the sofa bed? Should he give Nemuri and Oboro privacy? Why had they crawled into his bed like his sons would?

What had happened? Did he invite them into his room? Did he invite them into his bed? Or had they simply joined him for some reason? He wanted to know the reason, the answer, but he found himself blanking on the how's and why's as to the couple being in his bed. He ran the blow-dryer over his hair as he felt it drying beneath his fingers to which he turned it off. He knew better than to go to bed with damp hair but he was tired.

Once he texted his mothers he was going to go straight back to sleep, he swore it. He unplugged the blow-dryer then returned it to its drawer where he straightened up and grabbed his tank top. Working it up over his head, the soft blue glowed against his skin as he tugged the towel from around his waist. Grabbing his boxers, he stepped into them then tugged them up his damp legs with the fabric rolling and catching on his skin somehow.

He grunted as he bounced to get his boxers up to his hips before grabbing his pants which he flapped out before bending over again. Sliding his feet into the legs then tugging the loose fitting pajama pants up. He gathered his towel and clothes up, turned the light off and grabbed the door handle. Tugging it open, he poked his head out into the bedroom where the couple, surprisingly, were still sleeping. He sighed out then padded into his bedroom, tossing his clothes into the hamper, then making his way around the bed.

One more glass of water, his phone, and then he'd head back to sleep. He walked around the bed with slow, even steps as he walked along the side of the bed to grab his phone. Unplugging it, he then glanced at the sleeping couple. Cheeks pink with lashes fluttering ever so slightly on their cheeks. Lips parted with slow, even breaths. Deep asleep still. He reached for his glasses case, opening it then taking his glasses out and slipping them onto his nose.

He then turned on his feet to pad across the floor to the bedroom doors. He knew he could do this in here but he wanted to get another glass of water. Just one more. Or he could take out a root beer from the fridge to sip on. It had him fighting the urge to hum as he made his way to the bedroom doors and slipped out into the hallway. It was honestly like breathing out with how clear his vision was now; the world no longer a fuzzy blur around him.

He padded down the hallway to the kitchen as he held onto his phone. He entered the kitchen, glancing over at his cup of melting ice when he rushed over to it to pick it up. The ice cubes were deafening small but he gulped at the water filling the bottom. Nice. It was heaven on his throat but it tasted like toothpaste. He put his cup down after draining it with ice swirling together as he turned on his feet to pad over to the fridge.

Tugging it open he reached in to grab a bottle of soda then shut the door. He twisted the cap off and lifted it up to take a sip with a soft hum leaving him as he did so. It tasted good. And then a nudge at his calf half him looking down to find Sterling and Twix wrapping between his legs as they looked up at him. Copper and light blue eyes focused on him as their mouths opened in meows that were silent to him. Then he glanced at their food bowls where Reese and Cappella sat.

He smiled softly as he took another swig of his drink before placing it and his phone on the counter. Might as well get their refilled their water bowls and the food. Opening the last cabinet door under the counter, he tugged the container of cat food out. It had cats swamping him, mouths opening in silent meows that had him smiling softly. He filled up their bowls with the cats eagerly swarming them like they'd been starved overnight.

It had him shaking his head as he closed the cap of the food then sliding it back into its place and shutting the cabinet door. He then scooped up their water dishes and padded to the sink where he placed them down and turned the water on. Making sure it was cold, he stared out the window once again curiously at the snow. The sky was a low, dark gray that promised more snow to be dropped onto the ground. It was too much for early to mid-January but he knew that soon enough the snow would be washing away.

It would be gone in the blink of an eye and until then he just needed to deal with a few weeks of snow. Sighing out as he grabbed the bowls, he began to fill them with water then turning carefully to walk over to the food bowls. He placed the water bowls down carefully on the floor. Water sloshing lightly but he was happy to get them down. God, he wanted to sleep. All he wanted was to curl up in bed and conk out for a couple more hours. His stomach was nauseous but the soda was settling on it okay.

He wasn't the type to throw up when hungover but his stomach certainly wasn't happy with him at the moment. He straightened up with what he guessed to be a groan vibrating in his throat as he turned on his feet back to the counter. Padding over to it, he unscrewed the cap of his soda and took another small sip. Then another. And another. Small sips as he then took a deep breath before turning to his phone. He ought to text his mothers and get that over with.

He wasn't feeling like hot shit, at least, thanks to his shower but did he want to make the thirty almost forty minute drive to his mothers? Could he deal with his loud sons today? He felt guilty always pawning them off for sleep overs but he knew they'd been over the moon happy to see his mothers. Surely one more night at their grandmothers' home wasn't going to kill them, was it? They'd been so attached to his hips lately that he found himself hardly the space to breathe.

He'd been spending so much time with them and while he adored his time with them, he knew him being hungover wasn't the smartest thing for his sons. He didn't want to give them a negative view or to snap at them because they were simply being children. He didn't want to yell at his sons to be quiet or to be short with them. He didn't think he even possessed the bones to be short or angry with his children but he didn't want to test it now.

He didn't want this to be the type of trial run for any of them. He leaned against the counter as he sipped at his root beer again before capping it and turning on his feet with his phone in hand. He'd go lay out on the sofa bed if it was out; it wasn't horrible, in fact it was very soft. Comfortable enough but it was clear it was nothing like a real bed. Padding across the kitchen, his hair swaying against his back with its comforting weight, he walked into the hallway.

He fussed with his phone as he walked down the hallway with his soda in hand when he turned slightly to step in the threshold of the living room. And sure enough, the bed was out. The blankets rumpled. He couldn't help but wonder if the couple had slept out here before coming to his room. Did he invite them into his room? Is that why? He had not a clue but at least he had a few throw pillows to lay on. He placed his drink on the coffee table then shuffled around the bed to grab a throw pillow then another.

And he flopped onto the bed. Groaning at the relief as he stretched out on the bed then grabbed the blanket to tug over himself. Curling up on his side, he turned his attention to his phone as he pressed the power button. And while his intention to text his mothers was his first priority, his heart damn near stopped in his chest to find five messages from Shouta. Five messages sent around midnight of last night and it had his heart thudding sickeningly against his chest.

He swallowed before he unlocked his screen as he took a breath yet his chest felt tight. His stomach an absolute mess that left him feeling nauseous in response. Taking a breath, he pulled up his contacts and tapped on his mother, Kimiko's, icon and sent her a text asking for them to host the boys one more night. Closing it out, he then opened his texts up where he stared at Shouta with a dryness to his mouth. Taking a deep breath, that tightness in his chest merely constricted when he tapped on Shouta's texts pulling them up.

Shouta: ive been sitting here trying 2 figure out a response to all of tht

Shouta: and idk how 2 respond to it all but thank you, i guess? 4 finding me pretty?

Shouta: but u dont gotta be nervous around me, you know that, right?

Shouta: if it makes u feel better you make me feel nervous sometimes 2

Shouta: but you clearly dont miss me 2 much, do u?

It pulled him up short at that last text which had him blinking at the phone screen. Didn't miss him too much? What did that mean? He didn't understand the strange venom of that last message that had him frowning at his screen. Did I do something wrong? I mean, he responded to my drunk texts so that's good, right? Or is it bad? Is this bad? Or good? What does that mean? I'll just send a quick message and clear it up! Easy peasy, right?

Hizashi: Hey, Sho! I survived last night, haha! I'm pretty hungover but I think I'll live 😊

Hizashi: I just wanted to apologize for spam texting you last night with all those drunk texts of mine 😅

Hizashi: But um, not to be rude, but what do you mean by saying that I clearly don't miss you too much? Of course I miss you! You're my best friend!

Hizashi: Shouta? Are you there?

Shouta: im here

Shouta: but from wht i saw last night u clearly didnt miss me 2 much

Shouta: its fine honestly

Shouta: i guess we both have our own lives & theres nothin wrong wit tht

Hizashi: Shouta, what the hell are you actually talking about right now? Like, it feels like you are kind of insinuating something right now and I'm just not catching onto it. What's with the tone that you have right now? Like, did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off with the texts?

Shouta: im not mad about the texts

Hizashi: Then what the hell is up your ass right now? I mean, am I just reading into things too much right now? Like why are you sounding, like, MAD at me for something? Clearly, I did something if you're going to sound the way you sound 😟

Shouta: i dont know wht tone tht u think ure hearing but im not mad at you in the slightest bit. if anythin i got a bit of a wakeup call bout somethin last night & i think its probs 4 the best tht i take time to think about things

Hizashi: What does that MEAN? You sound hella mad! Shouta, can you just be honest with me for like five seconds? Can you just tell me what the fuck it is that I did that's got you so short and pissy with me? Can you tell me so that I can fix it? Please?

Shouta: theres nothing 2 fix, zashi. i just need 2 take some time 2 think about some things

Shouta: not everything has to be about u

Hizashi: What the fuck does that mean? You're starting to worry and irritate me, Shouta, you know that? What's with all this cryptic bullshit about needing time to think? Of course, not everything is about me but what the hell is going on? What's with the weird ass tone you have right now?

Shouta: again i dont HAVE a weird tone wit u & ur reading 2 far into things. im not trying 2 b cryptic wit u but i cant help but look over ur texts from last night & i just

Shouta: i think i need to think about some stuff & i cant do tht wit u all up in my shit about it, u know?

Hizashi: Shouta, what in the actual fuck is going on right now? What about my texts? Did they upset you? Did they make you mad? Did they upset you? Because I apologize for that! I really shouldn't have texted you all that! But why are you being weird with me? Why are you talking like that?

Hizashi: Like, if I did something wrong you gotta tell me, please? Please tell me what I did wrong? I don't want you to be mad at me or something and I want to be able to fix it if I did something wrong, okay? So can you just tell me what's going on? Why you're mad at me?

Shouta: how many times do i have 2 tell u tht im not mad? its starting 2 get annoying wit how u think its over somethin u did

Shouta: look Nem sent me a pic last night & it got me thinking, ok? im thinkin about some stuff today & u dont gotta be so worried tht its somethin wrong

Hizashi: Then why are you talking so weird? Why does it seem like you're not telling me something? Like you're trying to say something but not at the same time? I can't shake it that I did something wrong so please tell me? What is it about this picture that has you so twisted up?

Hizashi: Because we can work it out! Whatever this is, whatever's wrong, we can work it out together, okay? So please just tell me? Or maybe even send me the picture? Because I don't want you to be upset with me, Shouta, okay? If you're mad then just be mad but talk to me first? Please?

Shouta: im not

Shouta: god nothing is coming out right rn

Hizashi: Can you just tell me if it's me? If I did something to bring this on? I mean, I know that drunk texts aren't for everyone and I know that you might not have wanted them at all, you know? But I just got this pit in my stomach and I would really, really, really like to know if I did something to upset you or something

Shouta: idk if its really something u did

Shouta: i mean in the pic u seem kinda out of it & if u were tht drunk then im not gonna hold it against u, Zashi, but i just

Shouta: seeing it is just making me think about some stuff & i

Shouta: idk

Hizashi: So, are we okay? Or does this mean that we're not okay? Because I really don't remember Nem taking any pictures of me? I mean, can I at least see the picture before we go talking on? Like can I see what's making you think? Or is that crossing a boundary somehow?

Hizashi: Because regardless I'd like to fix whatever is wrong, you know? You're my best friend, Shouta, and I care about you so, so much. I don't want things to become weird or to break off because of something little, you know? I just

Hizashi: I just want to fix this. I want to know what's going on in your head and why you have that weird ass tone still. Like, did the picture mean something to you? Was it inappropriate? Was it something you didn't want to see? Or was it just something really weird? Can I please see it?

Shouta: theres nothin 2 fix, zashi. i cant tell u whts goin through my head bc i dont even understand it honestly

Shouta: and she sent this picture last NIGHT

Shouta: but ik its a relatively innocent picture but here

Shouta: [ sent]

His heart was jumping in his chest with his hands squeezing the phone slightly when he looked at the picture loading up on his screen. What was going on? Why was Shouta talking with this weird tone to his messages? It was like they were angry, or rather that they wanted to be angry, but the anger wasn't there. There was an odd air to the way Shouta was speaking to him and it was something he'd never experienced before. What was the tone behind those words?

Why was Shouta being so wishy-washy when he knew the man to be firm? When he knew Shouta to have a good head on his shoulders? Sure, they'd only been friends for six months but he knew this man to some extent and Shouta didn't mince words. He didn't sugar coat. And yet for some reason it felt like both of those things were taking place. As if Shouta were trying to accuse him of something while also trying to shift the blame to something else.

It was a confusing, heartbreaking thing that had his heart racing against his chest when the picture loaded up. And he was struck wordless at the picture on his screen. Like Shouta said, it was an innocent picture in its own rights. It was absolutely tame compared to the images that his brain had been cropping up while Shouta had been texting him. This picture was by far the most innocent thing he'd seen in his life. There, from a high angle with a faint blurriness to the quality, was a picture of himself cuddled up to Nemuri.

Oboro sleeping right behind him with his head pressing into the back of his shoulder with his cheek pressed to Nemuri's breast. The three of them cuddled up together the way they'd been this afternoon when he woke up to his pounding head. There was a playful shimmer to those sky-blue eyes as Nemuri smiled adoringly at the two of them with a single black bar across the center of the frame. 'My favorite boys' with a heart emoji at the end. Had this been uploaded to snapchat?

To Instagram? Or had Nemuri sent it directly to Shouta with the hopes of poking fun at the three of them? He had not a clue but he sat up with the blanket rustling as it fell from his chest to spill into his lap. And he was trying to make heads and tails of why this picture bothered Shouta. Did it bother the black-haired man? If so, then why? Was it because his cheek was pressed up to Nemuri's breast? Was it because Oboro was cuddled up behind him? Was it the caption of the picture?

If Shouta wasn't mad at him then what was the emotion? Disappointment? Distaste? Or was it-? His brain clicked. It was so sudden that he swore he could hear the tiny snap as he gasped in a breath with his hands squeezing his phone at the realization. At the theory in his head but it was the most rational one, wasn't it? Was it possible that, somehow and someway, that Shouta was jealous over the picture? Was it possible that his best friend, the closest man to him other than Oboro, was jealous over the picture?

But why would he be jealous now? He'd been happy to cuddle up to Nemuri the night of New Years Eve and he got not a word from Shouta. Each time he'd glanced at the man, he'd seem a soft smile on those full lips. Fingers brushing his own when he sidled up to his side for the night. So why the hell would a simple, innocent picture like this make Shouta jealous? What was it about it that he was failing to see? That he was failing to find problem with?

He'd always cuddled up to Nemuri like that and it wasn't odd to have Oboro also cuddled up to him. Touch had always been given so freely in between himself and the couple that he never stopped to question it. Was there something weird about it? Was there something wrong about it? His mind was racing a mile a minute trying to figure out why something like this was driving a wedge between him and Shouta. How could it be only last night he was going to make plans to see Shouta again?

That he was going to confess the moment he saw him? Why was the wedge suddenly between them when he finally felt ready to confess his feelings to the black-haired man? It felt unfair. It felt horribly, completely unfair to him and to Shouta. So, what about this picture was making Shouta think? What about it was making the man talk to him like that? What had he done wrong? What about the picture was wrong? He could fee a confused sting at his eyes when he licked his lips before shifting slightly.

His knees drawing up towards his stomach as he held his phone in his hands. He knew Nemuri would never, never send something maliciously. Would never send something that would ruin his chances with Shouta. So, had Shouta been sent it? Or was he lying about that? Had he seen it on snapchat and saved it? Saw it on Instagram possibly? Where would Nemuri have posted it that the black-haired man would see it? Or did Nemuri perhaps send it to Shouta too?

After all, the couple was friends with the black-haired man too. He wasn't the only one that was friends with Shouta and yet it felt suddenly off-kilter. As if heh ad been missing something this entire time and he was now left scrambling to understand. He knew perhaps it was inappropriate the way Oboro was cuddled into him with his face pushing into the back of his shoulder. And yes, maybe it was also inappropriate to have his face all but buried in Nemuri's breasts.

But he looked out like a light in the pictures; same with Oboro. It wouldn't be the wildest thing if he had invited the couple into his bed while he was in a black-out period from the alcohol. He didn't see anything wrong with this and yet he saw everything wrong with it. It was suggestive and yet it wasn't. If anyone knew their friendship, their friend group, they'd know it was an innocent thing. But he hadn't been friends with Shouta in high school and he wasn't as close to the black-haired man.

They'd only been friends for six months. He didn't understand the dynamics he had with the couple. But did that make this picture okay? Did this make a picture like that appropriate? Or was he reading too much into it? Or was he reading too little? What did Shouta see in that picture that would get him to "think" about things? What things was he thinking about? What did this mean? Was Shouta mad? Or was he jealous and just not admitting it? Did he call him out on it?

Did he ask Shouta if he was jealous? Or would that really piss the black-haired man off? He didn't want to do that. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Before he could even think of a response, the little dots were dancing at the bottom of his screen as he closed out the picture to find a text blipping up on his screen from the black-haired man. It had his heart jumping in his chest with his thumbs dancing over the screen, when he took a breath before reading the new text.

Shouta: look ik its not somthin to get

Shouta: uk weird about. but its makin me think about some stuff & i think i need a little time before i can talk 2 u

Hizashi: But Shouta, that picture is nothing! Absolutely nothing! It's not like that with Nem or with Oboro! You know that, right? We were all drinking last night and I honestly, truthfully, don't remember them coming to my bed but it's not something to be upset over!

Hizashi: I promise, nothing is going on with the two of them. But you know better than to be jealous of something like that, right? You know that you don't have to be jealous over a picture that Nem took while we were sleeping, right? 😟

Shouta: idk do i?

Shouta: im sorry that was uncalled 4

Shouta: but its rlly got me thinkin & i hate 2 do something so drastic but i think it might b best 4 us to have some space between us

Hizashi: Shouta! Come on! I don't mean to brush it off or make it seem unimportant but please! I understand how it looks, I know it doesn't look the best, but I don't want to lose you over a damn picture!

Shouta: ure not losing me over anyhing

Shouta: i just need some quiet between us so i can think, u know? i need to gather my thoughts so i can talk to properly

Hizashi: But you're talking like this is going to be the last time you talk to me! Shouta, do you understand the tone that you've had this whole time? I'm not trying to sound pissy or accusatory but you have to understand how this is all sounding to me

Hizashi: Because it sounds like you're wanting more than space between us, you know? But Shouta, can you just understand that that picture doesn't mean anything? That it's strictly platonic between the three of us?

Shouta: i just want space thts all, zashi

Shouta: i want time 2 think properly so i dont hurt ur feelings u know? because i wont lie 2 u

Shouta: im jealous. and i dont LIKE being jealous over somthing as stupid as tht but i am

Shouta: and i just want some time to figure tht out & understand Y it makes me jealous u know?

Shouta: i promise it wont be 4 very long but i'll text u, ok?

Hizashi: I

Hizashi: Fine. Fine, I'll respect your boundaries and I'll let you think about it. I won't push for more but please message me soon, okay? Because I really do want to talk to you and I want to clear this all up but if you want time to think then I'll respect it.

Shouta: thank u

Shouta: im gonna go 4 now but im glad ur feeling better this morning. i hope the hangover isnt 2 severe

Shouta: i'll talk 2 u later, ok?

Hizashi: Okay

The phone fell from his fingers onto his lap as he forced them to move to close out the texts with Shouta. There was a hollow, strange beating in his chest that left him feeling cut off. As if he were missing his heart all of a sudden. As if he were left barren. He was confused. Upset. He didn't understand this one damn bit. He looked up at movement in the doorway when Nemuri blinked groggily at him before lifting her hands up to sign at him with a frown on her lips. Zashi, are you okay? You look upset.

Upset? Is that the emotion on his face? He could feel his expression tightening when Nemuri's eyes blinked at him again before staring with a look of worry pinching at her face when he swallowed but his throat felt so tight. He realized there was moisture in his eyes; dampening them when he blinked quickly before raising his hands up. Shouta just asked me for space. Because of the picture you took last night. He wants space because he's jealous over it, apparently.

Regret twisted on Nemuri's face with that worry as she swayed uncertainly on her feet before padding forward with her messy hair swaying around her shoulders and back. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she scooted up onto it to crawl next to him when she raised her hands up with that worry on her face when she touched his cheeks. Tilting his face up when those hands left his face before moving as she frowned. I am so, so sorry, Zashi. I didn't think before I posted that picture and I thought it was innocent.

I know. He paused then when he sighed out as he blinked against that strange wetness in his eyes when he swallowed again. There was a lump of emotion in his throat when he then tried to tip his lips up in a smile for the woman but he knew he was unsuccessful. Knew it in the way those sky-blue eyes flickered over his face when he raised his hands up to sign at her. It'll be okay. He promised to talk to me after he had some time to think. Now, let's focus on food, okay? Give me something to do?

He watched neatly groomed brows coming together as Nemuri frowned tightly at him when she shifted beside him. And then fingers were raising up, slipping beneath his glasses and brushing beneath his eye forcing it to shut. And it was wet where her fingers touched his skin. He swallowed again when she raised her other hand up to rub at his left eye and smeared the wetness away before pulling her hands away to sign at him. Let's just order out, yeah? That'll be easier on everyone. But Zashi?

Yeah? He let his hands drop to his lap as he toyed with his phone. He felt strangely dejected; as if somehow, someway, Shouta had rejected him. Did Shouta know? Did he have the sneaking suspicion as to why he wanted to talk to him? Had he let something slip that gave Shouta a heads up about what he wanted to say? It had his head rolling over and over trying to figure out why the black-haired man would suddenly find this reason to break everything up.

Let Shouta be jealous. Honestly, he'll get over it sooner than you think, okay? Just give it some time. He'll come back, I bet, and you can confess then if the time is right. And then Nemuri's arms were curling around him and he was pulled to her as he reached a hand out to curl around her waist. Was she right? Would Shouta come back? It had him sighing out through his nose as he buried his face into her shoulder. Give it time, huh? He'd give it all the time in the world. He just hoped Shouta will be willing to hear him out when it was time.

Until then all he can do is wait.