Hizashi swore he was always happiest when he had something to do. When he had something to play with in his hands or an idea in mind that kept propelling him forward. When there was a list of tasks that needed to get done that he could effortlessly bang out in an hour or two. While he could run himself ragged, he found that when he was taking his time with a task that was always easiest on him. It was always so good about having something to do. Much like his high school days; he'd taken on so much during it.
He hated most factors about it, but God knows that he had a damn blast doing his homework in the afternoon. Nothing had been better than laying on the carpet of his living room with his text book open as he wrote down flashcard definitions for his science class. When he and his siblings would lay out around the coffee table and would color out the pictures his mothers would print out on the printer. Pictures that would then be hung up for Christmas or Halloween on the windows of the house with the rest of the decorations.
When he had to rehearse his lines for the plays he would star in with his younger sister, Aimi, helping him. There was nothing he adored more than having a full packed schedule on his terms. When he knew what he was getting himself into that left his head and hands busy. Left him with little time to reflect or to think about the negatives in life. When he had a full schedule that left him exhausted by the end of the day. When he could find something more to do for his day than merely school work or decorations.
He liked to be busy. He liked to be so damn busy that his head hardly had time to think of his personal problems. Maybe that was avoidant, but he'd always been that way. He never thought of it as a negative quirk, but was it? Truly, was it awful of him to be so busy it left him dizzy? Left him exhausted? When he took on this job at the school, he'd expected himself to be busy, but he didn't think balancing three jobs would be so exhausting. Throughout his work week, he was busy accepting, passing out.
Grading papers when he had free time. He was tutoring when his students emailed him for time after school. He was emailing his producers at the radio station and parents of students requesting their child receive more help. He had so much on his plate that he swore he going to bed with throbbing temples was his new normal. He knew what he'd be facing when he accepted the position. He knew he'd be busy. He knew that he'd be up to his neck in work, but he didn't think it'd be like this. And yet it was keeping him busy.
His after school tutoring, his grading, the emails and the paperwork that piled up. Then there was his work on the weekends; when he would take over the store on Saturday after waving away his younger employees. Taishiro was harder to wave away but he was happy to have the man on hand to chat with over coffee in the backroom. Always with Nemuri and Oboro inevitably joining them on their breaks. It was exhausting. Running from the school to his home where he spent hours up to his neck in grading.
Doing so to make sure he got it all back on time. Spending the weekends stacking books on the shelves of his store, ringing up customers, and figuring out pay rolls for his three workers. Playing with Hitoshi and Izuku who would squeal and shout for him to play to which he'd force his tired body to move. To play with his six year old sons who would shriek and giggle in his arms. Hands pushing and pulling him. More often than night, his sons would lay out on his bed while he was typing away at his laptop.
Trying to grade the essays passed in through the student portal. From there he would glance to find his boys sleeping. Carrying them to their beds one at a time after getting teeth brushed and pajama's on. It was sweet. It was a cycle for himself; teaching, radio station, store. Wake up, pound his coffee and energy drinks, sit down to grade. Cook breakfast, have lunches ready, have dinner on the table at a reasonable time. Grade the papers, look over his bills for the store and his home, check his emails.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
He'd thought he knew what he was getting himself into but the reality of it was that he was more exhausted than he remembered being. An exhaustion he hadn't felt in August a short four months ago. Back then he'd thought he was truly run down and tired, but it was nothing compared to the way he was functioning now a days. It felt like he hardly had a moment to himself anymore; he was always going, going, going. There was always a task that needed his attention. A person who needed his time more than he needed it.
He hardly had time for himself, much less masturbating, when he was knocking out on his bed the second he hit it. There was an exhaustion in constantly going, going, going the way that he was. He was exhausted but he knew that he was welcoming it upon himself. He'd known from that first that accepting the job meant that he'd be running thin himself. Papers up papers being done for grading. Accepting the group of kids into his home once every week with snacks and meals being provided for them.
It was needed to be number one while watching said group of children. Balancing three jobs meant spreading himself thin as possible. He hardly had time for himself anymore at night. How could he? Where would the energy be when it came to masturbation? He didn't have time for his baths. For his small glasses of wine. The closest he swore he got to a bath was sitting on the shower floor with water sloshing around his legs while his feet blocked the drain. Lately he couldn't deny how exhausted he was.
Unbelievably drained by the end of the day that he truly didn't know what to do other than sleep. To sleep, sleep, sleep until he wasn't tired only to be frazzled the next morning. He swore he'd never been this busy in all of his life. Not even when he was pulling all nights during school to study for a test or to get last minute homework done. He didn't know what to do with himself by the end of the day. What more was there for him to do? He hardly had time for his friends who were texting him all with the hope of getting in contact with him.
He couldn't remember the last time he had a proper conversation with Nemuri or Oboro. Since he had a conversation with Shouta of all people. It had him exhausted but how could he humor conversations that took up more of his brain power than he simply didn't have? Concentration that danced away from him faster than he could process? He hardly understood his responses to his sons when they were sitting at the dining room table, and they were chattering on about their day. His focus was slowly shifting to staying awake.
To getting his work done the best he can in the fastest ways that he could. In playing with Hitoshi and Izuku so they wouldn't feel lonely. Trying to keep his friendships going but conversations were hard when he was drooping over the table. When he was laid out on his bed out like a light faster than he realized as he woke in a curled position with his hearing aids hanging out. His glasses digging into his temple and cheekbone. Too many nights he'd find himself waking still dressed in yesterday's clothing.
His glasses and hearing aids halfway hanging out of his ears. Too many nights of his were being lost to the fog of sleep. Losing himself to the usual routine of grading until close to midnight before crashing. Going through his homeowners bill for the store and the bills of his own home. Tiring his body out by swinging his sons into his arms. Dragging orders from the back room of his shop into the front area that he had decorated with that fall theory. And before he knew it, he was blinking, and the ground was covered in thick layers of frost.
Thin dustings of snow that left him in shock. He'd sneezed and December was encroaching on them with that first few days lost in the mundane schedule of going from job to job. Today was no different. The heat was bursting from the vents of his store to keep it warm with flurrying snow swirling through the air outside. They'd gotten a few inches before their Labor Day Thanksgiving, and it had been that way ever since; flurrying on and off through the remainder of November much to his son's delight.
Squatting before the shelf before him, he moved to transfer the books from the box to the shelf with Taishiro in the break room chattering with his sons who laughed. A conversation that had them in fits which had him smiling. He was glad he had another adult that the boys could talk with and enjoy the conversation with. The light thud of the books being placed onto the shelf was deafening over the quiet sound of the music playing in his store speakers. Soft Christmas jingles that had him humming softly along with them.
He worked to lift the books from the box to the shelf in a rhythm that he was all too familiar with. God did he miss the days when he was manning his store, and half the day was eaten up with running from the aisles to the front desk to check out his customers. He hummed under his breath as he finished up one half of the shelf before digging into the box for the other series that he began placing up onto the second half of the shelf. The familiarity of digging into the box for handfuls of books that he then slid onto the shelf was calming.
It had his tired, frazzled mind relaxing as he fought to swallow down a yawn bubbling in his throat. His jaw trembling when he bit it back with his hands working to get the books on the shelf. His glasses slipping down his nose just enough for him to reach up and nudge them back into place in between fistfuls of books he grabbed at. Humming with the music, he gave a light bounce in his squatted position as he listened to the soft murmured conversation of the few customers up at the tables before the mirrors.
The whisper of turning pages towards the back of the store closest to him with another pair curled up in the big soft chairs as they sipped coffee. Coaxing them to read the books they'd recently purchased from him. It was a calming atmosphere that had the lingering tension of the week rolling off of his back. God knows tonight was going to be a bath night. He'd been too tired for them, but he was determined to get into the bath for a soak. Who knows, maybe he'd bring a glass of wine with him. Maybe a vibrator.
He had no clue what he wanted but he wanted to work off the tension that had settled over him. They were a day away from truly starting the first week of December. A week where he'd be spending his days grading once again. He wanted to sigh at the thought but as he remained in his squatted position, he forced his hands to move as he lifted books up to place onto the shelf before him. The sound of Hitoshi and Izuku's laughter coming from the backroom had him smiling softly as he straightened up the books on the shelves neatly.
Fuck, he'd been so damn busy lately that he worried he wasn't making time for his boys, but they'd assured him he had. He reached into the box to grab a few more books that he lined up onto the shelf before him with a sigh as he straightened up the stacks before straightening up out of his squat. Groaning at the light pops to his knees, he stretched his arms up with his head falling back. Hair swaying against his back as he let out a quiet groan under his breath when his back cracked and popped deafeningly.
It felt good. He popped up onto his toes with his back arching until he felt a deeper pop in the center of his back. It had him sighing out when he dropped back down onto his heels when he reached into the box to get the final few books onto the bottom shelf before sliding the empty box into the pile next to him. Reaching for the box cutter he had stuffed between the boxes, he sliced open the final bottom box of books open carefully then tugged the flaps open. And he began to bend down to grab handfuls of the books.
Five at a time that he then placed on the top shelf with a sigh when Hitoshi squealed with laughter from the break room with Izuku laughing with him. It was a beautiful sound that had him smiling and a few patrons looking up with soft smiles of their own. However, he could hear Taishiro hushing them urgently when he bent down to hide behind the shelf. Grabbing a small stack of five more of those books to place on the shelf. He sighed out to himself as he fell into the routine of bending down then straightening up.
When he'd come into work, he'd been surprised by how cheerful Taishiro had been. Had been surprised when Nemuri came breezing in with a sandwich and coffee that he had devoured. His coffee drained in seconds with the dark-haired woman promising to bring them dinner later on. He'd felt a pang when he met those sky-blue eyes. He misses Nemuri. Oboro. He misses the couple like nothing else in the same way he missed Taishiro. The group of parent friends that he'd made by joining that group on Facebook.
There was hardly enough time in the day for him to reach out to his friends when his sons took up most of his time along with grading. When he was crashing on his bed from the exhaustion that was repeatedly dogging him. Eating him up. He hated that he'd hardly had time for his friends lately. That he didn't reach out as often to them because he was so damn tired at the end of the day. When he was so tired he could barely keep his head up. When was the last time he threw a party and enjoyed a glass of wine?
But when was the last time he had a conversation with another adult without trying to make it age appropriate? He loves his sons, he does, but God he was always so exhausted he hardly had time for himself let alone for his friends. He hated how it felt like he was treading water once again. Like he was inches from drowning under everything. He was half tempted to quit his substitute position and have them find someone more qualified if the pay wasn't so good. But God, he was tempted to call off and have someone else replace him.
From what he understood in his few talks with Yagi, it was clear that they had backups lined up. He was so, so tempted to quit. To return to his old routine. It sounded more appealing with each passing day even if he felt his joy in being so busy. In having time on his hands to do something with. To be busy was something he always enjoyed from a young age but as an adult with two sons under ten? It was exhausting. More than exhausting. He didn't know what he wanted to do but the temptation to quit was weighing on him.
He had only three weeks left. That much he knew. If he could power through until Christmas, then he was sure that he would be more than fine. But quitting sounds so good. He had not a clue why but it did even if he swore, he'd never be a quitter. Sighing quietly to himself, he stacked the books onto the shelves then took a moment to neaten them up. He found himself tapping his back pocket for his silent phone when he let out a quiet hum to himself. Nothing yet. He bent over to grab at the books.
He'd made sure to text Shouta right after he got off work that he wanted to talk to him. Whether that was over the phone or face to face, he didn't care so long as they talked. And God knows they had more than their fair share of things to discuss together. He wanted to address Halloween night. He was two months over do for that conversation. He'd been friends with Shouta for close to five months now and they'd eventually be going onto six months in the new year. He needed to have his talk with Shouta about that almost kiss.
About the tension that ran like a livewire between them. He needed to discuss the tension that settled on his skin when they were at work together. The way those nostrils flared when Yagi was sitting next to him to discuss something off hand. Something unrelated to work. There was a tension between them that needed to be addressed but was he ready for it? Was he ready to accept out loud he had a crush on Shouta? Was he ready to admit that he had one on the black-haired man? Or would he continue to swallow it down?
He couldn't deny that the one instance of blatant flirting from Emi the one time she'd popped into the school had had him gnashing his teeth. Had his jaw clenching. He'd been half ready to slam his head into the wall at the blatant flirting before she'd trailed off with Tensei. It had his jaw clenched tight with his eyes focused down on the table before him. His laptop. And yet when he'd peeked up, he'd found those dark eyes on him; curious. Intrigued. By what? His jealousy? Had it shown more than he realized?
But the black-haired man seemed to delight in sharing the flirtatious, joking texts that Emi sent him on the daily. The dry responses he gave in return. It was as if Shouta were trying to spot something in him that he couldn't see. It's not like he could see his own face or the emotions that twisted onto it. He could only guess. But God knows he wanted nothing more than to simply blurt out his feelings. Admit that he had a crush, and he didn't know what to do about it. Was there anything he could say about it?
Was there anything he wanted from it? He had not a clue. And he hated that he didn't know. Did he have this crush because he'd been dying for a lover? Was it because Shouta was merely unfortunate enough to come across his life when he had been longing the most for a lover? When those stirrings have been triggered? Was he only crushing on Shouta because the man had been unfortunate enough to come into his store that first time? The first man he'd seen in months that had lit a spark into him?
He had not a clue. It was like Taishiro and Nemuri had said; maybe he just needed to get himself back into dating. Maybe he needed to find someone to help him work out if his feelings for Shouta were genuine. But he knew they were. He knew a real crush when he felt it, and this was no different. He knew he liked Shouta. How could he not? He'd admired that handsome face in the staff room. He'd admired it in his home. In the sunlight of the fall season. He'd studied the sharp angle of his jawline and the arch of his cheekbones.
The unnamable scar beneath his eye that he'd yet to get the backstory about. The way those black curls fell down his shoulders to his upper back. How they brushed gently at pink cheeks. The stubble that covered his cheeks and jawline. The way his black brows squeezed together or how black lashes cast tiny shadows on his cheeks when the light hit his face just right. He'd spent hours memorizing the shape of his nose, the arch of his brow and the shape of his jaw and cheekbones. He'd watched that handsome face turn pink.
Watched it turn red. He's watched full lips move silently when talking to him; as if he were struck wordless before he spoke. He likes Shouta. That much was unavoidable as Taishiro was right. He does have the butterflies and the heart skips. He does have that drive to be close to him. To hear his voice. To see him in person. Imagined at night what it'd be like to twirl a curled lock around his fingers while the black-haired man tugged him close. He's spent time at night imagining what it'd be like to be dragged onto his lap.
To have hands travel over his waist and sides as he sank into his lap. Would he be playful about it? Or would it turn into a kiss? He couldn't stop himself from imagining what that'd be like; what kissing a man like Shouta would be like. It kept him up most nights with that twisting longing that had him regretting his decision to reject Shouta two months ago but what did he do about it? He didn't know what he wanted, even now, despite knowing his crush was doing nothing but building. He didn't know what he wanted.
Did he want something casual? Did he want something with no strings attached no matter how impossible that might be? Did he want something serious? He had not a clue what he wanted from Shouta let alone himself. He didn't know what he was going to do when he finally had his sit down talk with Shouta but he knew that he had to say it. He had to get it out into the open. Or at the very least mention Halloween. He's had two months to think on what he wants to say to the black-haired man about that night.
Two long months he'd been sitting on this and here they were just barely dipping their toes into December. There was no better time to mention it than now, was there? He wants nothing more than to clear the air. To discuss it and get it off of his plate for things he'd been putting off doing for quite some time. Sighing to himself again, he bent down to pick up a small stack of books then lined them up along the shelf. Glancing up, he watched Taishiro walking behind the counter with Hitoshi and Izuku clinging to his hands.
Bundled up again, the blonde gestured to the side where Nemuri and Oboro's shop was. He nodded back at the blonde with both sons beaming up at him silently as they rushed for the door with eyes locked on the swirling snow. Taishiro let go of Izuku's hand to tug the door open then ushered both small children through the door with him following after them with the door thudding shut. He sighed out to himself once more before he returned to tugging stacks of books out of the box to place on the shelf.
His mind churning again over the topic of Shouta; over the situation at hand that he didn't know how to address. He had not a clue what he could say to Shouta, and he had no clue on how he wanted to say it. Just what did he do? What did he even begin to say? Did he accept Shouta's apology from that night? Did he admit that he also wanted to kiss the man? Or did he just keep it simple in the way he'd been planning? The way he'd been rehearsing to himself over and over again? He knew what to say by now.
He knew perfectly what the words he wanted to use were. It as just a matter of spitting them out to the black-haired man in an articulate manner. In a way that allowed Shouta to understand what he meant without any chance of a misunderstanding. He didn't want to prolong this any longer than he already had. It'd been two, very long months that he'd gone without saying a damn thing to his friend. His friend, who, no doubt was sitting on pins and needles when it came to having this conversation. It left him feeling guilty.
Absolutely drowning in the guilt that was threatening to choke him up when he thought on it too long. He'd made Shouta feel guilty, hadn't he? The black-haired man had to have been dealing with such anxiety and guilt over his action that night. He'd no doubt left the man waiting on the fence as if to wait for the hammer to come down on him. It had him pinching his lips at the thought that he had created such possible anxiety in another person. It was the last thing that he wanted to do when he talked to him about Halloween night.
After all, he didn't want to push him away. No matter what that chilly, cold attitude of the man's attitude at work said about him. He wants to just talk. To air it all out so that the odd tension between them couldn't keep lingering. Wouldn't continue to taint their friendship. But was this still a friendship? Did friends imagine kissing one another? Did they fantasize about runni ng their hands through one another's hair? Did they imagine being trapped on their lap while lips slid against theirs? Did they imagine fucking their friend?
It was a situation that had him twisted up. Had his heart aching in his chest over this odd guilt that was drowning him. He wanted to air it out and that's what he was going to do. At the very least, get the tension that had been lingering for two months now out of their systems. But it was this planned talk that had him all too aware of yet another pressing issue. He was planning on coming out to his group of Mom friends after having been invited to a dinner party by none other than Rei who was promising a good night.
He had agreed without thinking twice but if all of them were going to be there then he was going to tell them. He was going to come out and talk to them about his status as a transgender man. He knew there was no pushing force or skepticism as they eyed him but rather this came from a place of honesty. He wanted to be open with his friends and this was a step to being open, wasn't it? And it's not like they weren't going to notice the longer they were friends. There was going to be slip ups when he talked about his childhood.
About his adolescence and teenage years. It was only pure chance that Taishiro had found out he was transgender due to gathering his pamphlets up. It was a nerve-wracking thing but God if he didn't want to get it over with. If he didn't want to spit it out to the women and have them at least know rather than feeling like he was somehow being deceitful. However, when it came to coming out to his mom friends there came the much bigger hill of his. Coming out to Shouta. God, what did he do about that?
He can at the very least have a general idea of how a group of mothers would react to his confession. He'd known them for five months, just like Shouta, and he'd dare say they were close friends. Tight knit in their group. But with Shouta? Well, there was an air of mystery. An air of uncertainty. He didn't know how the black-haired man was going to respond to him being transgender. Not everyone was accepting of it. That much he knew from his childhood. From past friendships that were broken off because of it.
Past boyfriends and a few girlfriends who would break it off after a few months. He'd been called a man but the reason behind the breakups were always the same. He didn't have the anatomy of a man. He was never scared of anal and even indulged with his old partners in it, but they always seemed unsatisfied. Even his past girlfriends grimaced when he would pull out his strap after six months together. He never blamed his exes for breaking up with him. Was never venomous. In fact, he understood it in a strange way.
He was a man, but he didn't have the right parts yet to reflect that. And anyone can change their mind about who they were dating. His exes merely chose their minds or came across someone who could fill their needs better than he could. There was no shame in that. None at all. But he couldn't deny that it stung when his third ex-girlfriend had left him for a man who had "real parts" from what he heard through the grapevine. Or when his much older ex-boyfriend had broken up with him for another man.
He didn't need to hear it to know that his ex-had left just because wasn't a "proper man" but none of his exes dared breathed it out loud. There were a few that ended amicably; he had four ex-boyfriends and three ex-girlfriends. Two of the three female exes had fallen under the umbrella of leaving him for a "real man". One of which ended amicably and sweetly along with three of his ex-boyfriends. All wishing nothing but the best for one another with the insistence it wasn't him at all but rather that it was them. ⭐
It was a line he'd been fed so many damn times he felt sick at the thought of hearing it again someday. 'It's not you it's me.' What a cliché line that was to hear during a breakup Maybe it was indeed the thing that led him to reflect on his dating life. Reflect on his exes and their reasons for breaking it off when they did. Whether amicable or not, agreed upon or not, it still stung knowing the real reason for quite a few of them. The fact that he wasn't real enough for them always hurt. The knowledge of it always burned.
It stung in the worst way possible but he learned to take his loss by accepting one night stands for a few years. Running himself through STD panels to make sure he never picked anything up. Nights spent between the legs of lovers that never lasted longer than sunrise. However, he had come to believe that perhaps it was a good thing that he adopted Hitoshi at twenty-three. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise as it put a stop to his dating life. Put a stop to his slew of one night stands and lovers that disappeared by morning.
He couldn't help but cringe at his body count when he thought about it. Nemuri told him there was no shame in it. That he could have a hundred exes, and it shouldn't matter but he knew it did. If his exes could see him as a fake man, as someone with the wrong parts, then what would Shouta say? He was masculine presenting; there was no doubt that, at first glance, he was a man. And that's what he was; no matter what his "parts" were, he was a man who had needs. And as far as Shouta knew, he has the right parts down there.
As far as the black-haired man knew, he has a dick rather than a packer that he wears throughout the day to give the impression of a bulge he didn't have. He can only imagine the disappointment Shouta would have if he found out it was fake. That he was "faking" his bulge, his penis, but was he truly? He planned on getting bottom surgery within the next two or three years when he neared thirty. Until then it was just a waiting game. But what if Shouta was gay? There's no way the man would be okay with him having a vagina.
He himself was bisexual and he dared say he didn't care what his partners had. He adored his female lovers but he definitely leaned towards men more. But when it came to someone who was strictly into men, a vagina would repulse Shouta. It would disgust him. So how did he explain it to the black-haired man without disappointing him? It had been five long months of this odd tension he had boiling between them that only increased in the past two months. Something that clutched at his bones whenever Shouta was nearby.
How did he explain to the black-haired man that he was a female-to-male transgender man without Shouta looking at him with disgust? Would he look at him with disgust? He can't imagine it. It had his heart aching at the thought that his best friend, the one he was growing closer to every day, could possibly look at him with disgust. It put a lump in his throat that had his eyes pricking lightly forcing him to blink. He didn't want Shouta to look at him with disgust. He didn't want to be looked at with pity.
He wants to tell Shouta, but God help him if he wasn't terrified of the reaction he'd get. Shouta was a moody man; that much he was understanding given the treatment he got outside of school compared to in the school. There was never any way to know how someone would react to news like that. Especially when Shouta probably believed him to be a cis-gender man for how could know better when that's what he presented as? When, at appearance alone, he looked like a man. Sounded like a man.
He is a man, but God knows how the black-haired man was going to react if he ever got into his pants and was touching his labia rather than a dick like he had to assume he did. It felt like a strange deceit; not telling Shouta sooner that he was transgender. But how did he begin to tell a friend of five months that? It was personal. It was incredibly, deeply personal and how could he say it without throwing them off kilter more than they already were? However, he knew it wasn't right to continue on like this with Shouta.
Especially if there was some type of emotional tension between them. If Shouta was interested in dating him. Interested in pursuing something like he had the strange assumption he did. If he didn't then why try to kiss him on Halloween night? Or was it merely a fluke? Was Shouta more of a lightweight than he'd led him to believe? He had not a clue, but he swore Shouta was the type not to be swayed easily by his alcohol given how drunk he'd gotten around four glasses before he'd cut him off that night.
Was there something he was missing? Was the romantic tension really doing nothing but build up? Should he do as Nemuri and Taishiro said and go on a date? Get an app on his phone just to see if Shouta was a fluke? But what did he do then if his crush on Shouta did turn out to be a fluke and the black-haired man had feelings for him? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his friend. Hell, he'd go so far as to call Shouta his best friend that only solidified over the past five months. A friendship he treasured and cherished.
However, he'd been ridiculously busy the past week and a half. There was a rush to get assignments out, whether in class or homework, to get done before Christmas. Before the break off school that it would provide. It wasn't just him; the other teachers seemed desperate to get the assignments out and graded. There was an urgency to the school that left him spinning on his feet; lost in the thrum of students and teachers. It led him to neglect his friendships. Neglect his social life as a whole much to his disappointment.
Led him to neglect himself but he couldn't deny that he'd been afraid at the idea of masturbation. Scared he'd only think of Shouta. God, he was a mess, wasn't he? Here he was, lusting after a man who, for all intents and purposes, believed him to also be a cis-gender man. It was leaving him with an awful guilt that was doing nothing but festering. He felt like he was somehow, someway, leading Shouta on and that was the last thing that he wanted to do. He knew what it was like to have a one-sided crush.
He knew what it felt like to pine. He'd been pining for Shouta more and more often than he was used to. He was drowning, choking, under the weight of his crush that only seemed to throb as it grew. Left him awake at night with his knees drawn up to his chest as he tried his best to turn his mind off. He'd been so exhausted lately, however, that he didn't have the drive to pine after Shouta. It was a shallow pining, but he found himself longing for his voice. His face. He wanted to be near him again and spend time together.
But he'd been so exhausted lately that he hardly had time to send out a text let alone hang out. Especially with how frazzled he'd felt lately with his late nights that he kept pulling just to get his work done. There always seemed to be something on his plate that kept him from texting his friends. That kept him from hanging out with them. It had him aching to spend some adult time with someone else but there was hardly enough time with how tired he was. But to see Shouta? Well, it was horribly tempting.
He'd sent a text this morning when he woke after crashing from his night at the radio station. He'd invited Shouta to come over with Eri and they could do dinner or watch a movie together. When Shouta had replied, he'd merely asked what he was doing for the day to which he replied that he'd be at the store today. That he had some shipments that needed to get on the shelves. After that, Shouta didn't response. He'd been worried he'd somehow said something wrong, but he'd chalked it up to Shouta also being busy.
The man had been flying down the hallways at the school with stacks of papers in hand. He had not a doubt that the black-haired man was also being swamped with work with the oncoming seasonal holiday. After bundling himself and the kids together, he'd come to the shop. It was only his luck that it began flurrying about an hour ago with the threat of a few inches building up overnight. The first forecast of five inches they'd gotten since it began snowing in November. The first proper inches of snow of the season.
He had sighed, hemmed and hawed over the snow but he knew there was no changing it. His boys, on the other hand, seemed excited at the idea of snow while he'd been fighting the urge to check his phone. To see if Shouta had texted him. At least they seemed to adore Taishiro; after all, they were well entertained by their baby sitter who was keeping them busy. Given they just left, he had to assume that the blonde was taking them next door for an early dinner tonight. Something they could eat in the breakroom.
God knows he couldn't deny that a sandwich from Oboro and Nemuri's sounded damn good for dinner. He wanted tonight to go smoothly so he could get some sleep. If he needed to spell it out, then he'd invite Shouta to come over. And together, in the living room or his bedroom, they could have the talk that he'd been putting off for two months now. God, it felt absolutely wild to think he'd known this man for about five months now. Five months were here and gone in the blink of an eye it seemed.
He'd lost the last three pining slowly but surely over Shouta. If he had to guess when his crush first formed, it would have to be when the black-haired man had put his coat around him that October afternoon. When he'd slid his arms into the sleeves and caught his scent. He had to believe that was the point his feelings had begun twisting into place. Halloween night only showed him that somehow, someway, Shouta had feelings for him. It was undeniable as one wouldn't just lean in for a kiss for no reason, would they?
There was something between them whether they remained as just good friends, best friends, or something more. He wanted Shouta in his life; he didn't want to imagine his life without him. He didn't want to think about losing Shouta over something so silly. However, he had to be rational. How long could he expect to pine? How long until Shouta deemed enough to be enough and left? Until he was fed up with his back and forth treatment? The unspoken tension that crackled over his skin like electricity in their moments alone?
What if Shouta was disappointed when he didn't find a dick but a packer? Would Shouta hate him? Would he despise him if he found out he was transgender? He liked to believe that what he knew of Shouta was that the black-haired man wouldn't be prejudiced. That he was open-minded to some degree given he had the suspicion that he had of Shouta possibly having a crush on him. It was a notion that had yet to be confirmed but one that had imbedded itself into his mind from his talk with Taishiro in what felt like centuries ago.
He didn't know what to do with himself, but he didn't want to lose Shouta. How long could they both withstand this tension? How long would he have to go with seeing Shouta so close to him yet so far? How many nights would he lay awake wishing he could see the black-haired man? Touch those black locks that caught the light in a glossy sheen despite the frizz to his hair? To twirl them around his fingers while he was tugged into his lap? To imagine what those full lips would feel like against his so many times he felt ready to scream?
How long would he replay the warmth he saw sparkling in those dark eyes of his? Admire the way his lashes fluttered unintentionally in that coy manner when his eyes darted up and down? It had him restless just imagining it. Sighing out to himself as he grabbed another stack of books to line along the shelf, he glanced over at the chiming bells. And as if summoned by his thoughts alone, Shouta pushed open the door with the frigid air swirling in with him as he shut the door quickly to cut off the cold air swirling behind him.
And he felt heat rushing to his cheeks when those dark eyes landed on him. The lower half of his face hidden in the dark scarf he had wrapped around his throat, Shouta's lashes fluttered in a blink when Shouta then walked over to him. Once he was within talking distance, the black-haired man pulled his face from his scarf. His cheeks were a charming, rosy red from the cold outside; his nose a light red from the frigid air nipping at it no doubt. Snow clinging to his boots and flakes melting in black curls rapidly leaving them wet.
He looks positively lovely. It was distracting; completely, unfairly distracting. God when was the last time he taken a moment to admire that lovely face? Unbearably handsome Shouta was. It had heat gathering in the back of his neck when he shifted slightly; fighting the urge to step back. He wanted nothing more than to admire that lovely, handsome face for a moment longer. It felt as if it had been years since he had last seen the black-haired man. It was no doubt shorter but God when was the last time he looked?
The last time he admired Shouta? He found himself struck wordless at how those locks seemed to glisten wetly under the soft lighting of the store. The way there were droplets of water running down rosy cheeks of melted snow flakes that clung to Shouta's eyelashes. Melting on them leaving them wet like his hair. It was a beautiful effect that robbed him of his rational thought. Robbed him of his thought process as he admired that rosy face. He'd seen the man yesterday at work but he hadn't gawked for long.
How could he? Shouta always scowled at him when he would let his gaze linger a beat too long on him. Would pout when he tore his gaze away when it was pointed out by another of their temporary coworkers. He knew he wasn't going to be there much longer but he couldn't help admiring Shouta. Admiring the suits he wore and the casual Friday wear that he wore with his bright pink sweats. He missed being able to just admire the beauty that was Shouta Aizawa. He wished he had more time to admire his beauty.
"You've been avoiding me." Four words. Four little words that hit him in the chest with full lips pinching together. Heat rushed to his face to burn there when he dropped his gaze when Shouta's head angled then bent itself down as if to attempt to catch his gaze when he ducked his head down. "Hizashi? Did I do something wrong? You haven't answered my calls, and you haven't been answering my texts like you usually do. I just- I want to make sure I haven't stepped over any boundaries that make you avoid me, you know?"
God, how did he answer that? Was he really avoiding Shouta? Or was it simply because he was busy? Was he using the fact that he was busy to try and stay away from Shouta? He didn't want the man to think he was avoiding him when he didn't want that. He didn't want that at all. He tugged at the hem of his sweater with a wobbling smile curling over his lips. "I'm sorry, Sho, I've just been really swamped with work lately. Would you, uh, wanna talk in my office for a minute? I think we should have a talk."
"Lead the way." Shouta then stepped backward with his boots squeaking lightly against the floor when he placed the books down before making his way forward. Around the shelf to the counter with the black-haired man following after him with the light thud of his boots on the floor deafening. His heart was jumping into his throat as he made his way behind the counter with Shouta tight on his heels when he flew forward to the break room. Taking brisk strides forward with Shouta shadowing him closely.
Right on his damn heels. How did he begin this conversation? What did he need to say first? He could put a pin in the transgender talk for now, couldn't he? He'd do it soon, he swore it, but for now he could focus on the talk he had planned out for months. Reaching for the handle of his small office, he pushed the door in then stepped into his small space with Shouta following after him. He shut the door gently behind them both when he took a breath. Okay, okay! He could do this! "Why don't you take a seat, Sho?"
"I'd rather stand." The man mumbled at him when he swallowed before nodding when he made his way to his desk to pull his computer chair out. Sitting down to rest his strangely shaky legs, Shouta hesitated before shuffling over to the desk where his finger tips touched the edge of it. Close enough for him to admire that rosy face that had his heart leaping in his chest. Stumbling. His stomach fluttering wildly when he licked his lips only for the black-haired man to let out a breath. "Have I done something wrong?"
"No! No, you've not done anything wrong! I really have been swamped with work lately; I'm always grading something, fixing something, or store-keeping here! No, Sho, you're not doing anything wrong, per say. I mean, your attitude at work fucking sucks but we've had that conversation way too many times." He watched full lips purse again when he then shifted in his seat when he reached up to tug at a lock of his hair. Twisting it around his fingers idly when he met that dark gaze. "I promise, you've not done anything wrong."
"Then why does it feel like you're avoiding me?" There was an indecipherable emotion to the black-haired man's words; they were flat yet there was something behind them. Something that threatened to pinch at his rosy face. It had him swallowing when Shouta licked his lips before taking a breath as fingers pressed in a light bounce on the edge of his desk. As if Shouta were preparing to step away from it all together when black lashes fluttered as he looked down. "I don't want you to avoid me, Zashi. I want you to talk to me."
"And I want to! I guess I've been a bad friend, haven't I? I should've told you that I've been so busy the past week and a half, but I didn't." The black-haired man kept his gaze down when the man then turned to drag the chair behind him closer before sitting down. His gaze down with occasional peeks up at him when he twisted his fingers together with index fingers digging into the backs of his thumbs. Scraping. "I apologize if I made you feel that I was avoiding you, Sho. I promise, that's the last thing I want to do."
"And I apologize for being a dick. I'm not- I realize that I've been nothing but cold to you since you started work at the school and it's not right of me. I just- I don't believe in bringing friendships outside of work into work, you know?" He blinked when the black-haired man lifted his hand up to scratch his cheek. The sound of nails over stubble deafening when the black-haired man peeked up at him. "I should have said it from the start. I should have told you clearly, but I think some distance at work is needed."
He blinked again at Shouta who scratched his cheek before dropping his hands into his lap. Fidgeting before him when he found himself in awe. He damn near laughed out loud when he reached up to press fingers against his trembling lips. Was that what this was the whole time? Shouta didn't want to bring their friendship into the workplace? The man was right; he should have said it from the start. Said it clearly to save them weeks of hot and cold treatment. "So, you don't want to be my friend at work?"
"I- Well, not exactly? I mean, we can be acquaintances at work, you know? Friends outside of it? I-I don't want to mix work and friendships all that often and that's something I should have said from the beginning. You deserved to be told that, but I was being too much of a douchebag to say anything. I thought- Well, assumed you'd get the hint." Shouta paused then before grinning weakly before it trembled then fell off of his lips. "I shouldn't have done any of this. Assumed. Acted this way. I truly do apologize for being a dickhead, Zashi."
"Apology accepted." He hated how weak his voice sounded when he pulled his fingers away to speak again. What a silly situation that had snowballed so effortlessly. He looked over Shouta's rosy face when dark eyes raised up to meet his when he leaned forward with his elbows thudding lightly onto the desk. "You know, you really are a fucking idiot. This whole situation could've been avoided if you'd of said something, Sho! All this angst and fear and sadness for nothing! I could've agreed to keep it formal if I knew!"
The black-haired man blinked at him when lips trembled as they parted slightly with brows raising up slightly only for snickers to burst out of the both of them. Grins curling on lips as he pressed his fingers against his grinning lips when the black-haired man hung his head slightly. Black curls spilling over his shoulder when he snorted before lifting his head up with gloved hands rubbing over his face fiercely. "God, I'm a fucking idiot! You're right, Zashi, I swear you're right! Thank you for pointing out the obvious!"
His voice was muffled into his gloves but the high laugh that left the black-haired man, muffled into his gloves, he found himself barking out a laugh of his own. There was a joy bubbling in his chest when Shouta's gloved hands slid down with fingers tugging at cheeks fiercely. A wide smirk curled over his lips when he reached up to rub at his warm cheek. "To be fair, I'm also a fucking idiot, Sho! I'm a real big idiot and I have my own role in this whole episode of stupidity! I could've pried more until you told me!"
"Oh yeah? Bigger than my own role in all of this clusterfuck?" The black-haired man raised his brows as fingers slid down rosy cheeks with the man leaning back in his chair. He looked positively lovely in the bright lighting of his office with black curls laying limply from the snow melted into it. Wetting it. He nodded at the black-haired man who grinned crookedly at him with black brows raising. "How in the world can an intelligent man like yourself be an absolute idiot, huh?"
Licking his lips, he cleared his throat of the laughter bubbling in it when he folded his hands on the desks surface. Now that the laughter was finished with, he needed to get this over with. Taking another slow breath, he let it out on a tremble when the black-haired man merely kept his brows raised with that crooked grin on full lips. This was going to bring the mood down. He just knew it was. "Well, I've been thinking a lot about Halloween night lately. And I decided that I think now is the time for a conversation like this, you know?"
Black lashes fluttered in a blink before dark eyes widened ever so slightly with Shouta's lips parting slightly. His mouth dropping open when he swore, he watched that rosy blush on stubble covered cheeks deepening before his very eyes. Becoming a richer red that had his heart skipping wildly in his chest. And then the black-haired man snapped his mouth shut with a click of his teeth. Lips pinching together with a throat clearing when the black-haired man looked down at his lap. "And?"
"I don't want it to ruin our friendship." He watched Shouta close his eyes then with a nod when he twisted his own fingers together with nails digging into skin. Scraping at his skin leaving burning patches behind on his thumbs before picking at his cuticles. "I-I know I needed time to think and that's just it. I don't want to ruin our friendship together, you know? I don't want to lose you. And I don't want to let one little moment ruin the friendship we have going, you know? I mean, do you even like me like that, Shouta?"
He swore he watched the man blush harder than he'd ever seen him blush before. A rich, deep red that smothered itself over his cheeks and no doubt spread to the tips of his ears if he had been able to see them. He twisted his fingers together with his heart racing against his chest when black lashes fluttered up with dark eyes locking onto him. Searching. For what? He had not a clue, but it had his stomach dropping with sickening intensity. "I don't know. Is that wrong of me to say that? For me not to know yet?"
"Not at all! I mean, there's plenty of things I don't know but there's no rush to figure it out!" He took another of those trembling breaths that threatened to hitch and choke him. Send him into a coughing fit that he wanted to do his best to avoid when Shouta grinned weakly at him with black brows squeezing together tightly. "It's okay to figure it out together, you know? I don't want to stop being your friend, Shouta, whether you believe that or not. I want you to keep being my friend because you want too, you know?"
"I know. I do, whether it seems it or not, want to be your friend more than anything. I want to be your best friend, Zashi, and I want to act like it." The black-haired man hesitated then before peeking up at him before dark eyes dropped to his lap when he watched Shouta lean forward in his seat. Elbows coming up onto the desk with hands pressing to his lips before dropping slightly to his chin. "I want you to think of me as a best friend, too. I want you to be my friend and I want to be a good friend to you, Zashi."
"I want to be a good friend to you too, Sho." He paused then giggled when he pinched his lips together when dark eyes lifted up to him curiously with fingers pressing to full lips. Hiding them from view when he rubbed at his warm cheeks before another giggle left him. "I guess we're both not being very good friends to one another, are we? I think I might just have you come over to help me with my grading. Or we could do it together? Have dinner? I really do feel awful I made you think I was avoiding you."
The black-haired man blinked at him before snickering when he ducked his head slightly before lifting his head up with his chin resting on his hands. There was a sigh when the black-haired man then smirked wickedly at him; it was very Totoro-eqsue. One he'd recognize anywhere with the black-haired man's amusement sparkling in his gaze. "I could come help you. Nothing says bonding like doing work in silence together rather than apart, you know. I mean, only if you want me to seriously come over."
"Of course I do! I'd love to hang out with you even if it is just to do grading then having you go back home!" He loved that bemused sparkle to Shouta's gaze when the black-haired man's head tilted. His skin was crackling with that energy fanning over it; a restlessness that had his fingers twisting together to fight the urge to touch that rosy cheek. To tuck curls behind his ears. To cup his face. Trace his lips with the tips of his fingers. So many desires clawing their way to the surface left him breathless. "So."
"So, I don't mind coming over. If anything, I can help you with your work so you're not drowning in it. You've looked positively dreadful the few times I've seen you at work." Shouta's lips trembled then; not quite losing their smirk but threatening to pinch into a frown when the black-haired man leaned forward. He watched a curly bounce lightly at his cheek to which Shouta swatted at it before tilting his head again. "What do you-"
He wasn't listening. He couldn't when he was moving; his hands were pulling apart with his hand lifting up to pinch that black curl then coaxing it back behind Shouta's ear. Beneath his hat. He traced the shell of his ear lightly with his fingers driving down over the shell of his ear. He skimmed his fingers to his earlobe before forcing his hand away to keep from tracing that jaw. Touching his cheek. And his face burst with heat when he jerked his hand away as dark eyes widened. "I- Sorry! I'm sorry!"
Those dark eyes widened at him when his hands twisted together as he fought the urge to lean forward. Instead, he leaned back in his chair with Shouta leaning forward then jumping to his feet. Leaning across his desk to chase after him with those wide dark eyes on his. That rosy blush looked so warm. He wanted to touch his cheeks; he wanted to caress his cheekbones and trace the arch of his brow. He couldn't. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't when Shouta didn't know yet what he wanted either. "It's fine."
"It's not fine, I shouldn't touch without your permission!" He breathed out the words with his heart skipping against his chest when Shouta leaned forward with hands on the desk. His hands twisted to fight that desire to touch this man's cheek; just once. Just once, he wanted to touch it the way that Shouta had touched his countless times. He bit his lip when he felt that energy crackle over his skin. Down his back. A thrum running beneath it with that breathlessness threatening to overtake him.
"You can touch me, Zashi, you know that right?" His heart throbbed in his chest at the low tone of Shouta's. Not quite husky but it was damn close to it. It had his breaths trembling slightly with his eyes widening when Shouta leaned forward with hands sliding over his desk slightly with hips pressed to the desks edge. Dark, dark eyes locked onto his; drowning in their rich, bottomless color that had his stomach dropping. "I don't mind it. I don't mind it at all, Zashi, so there's nothing to apologize for, yeah?"
"I'm still sorry." Quiet. His voice was tight; not quite a whisper but more like a wheeze as Shouta leaned in close, close, close when his hand lifted. And without thinking twice, he touched that rosy cheek despite his mind shrieking he shouldn't. But was it alright? Shouta said it was so why hold back? Why not do what he dreamed of doing for weeks? He traced his fingers along Shouta's cheek bone lightly before trailing them down his cheek to his jaw. Skimming his fingers along them. "I'm sorry, Shouta."
"It's fine." Choked. Husky. It was hard to find the word to describe that pitch when he skimmed his fingers over his jawline again before sliding his fingers back up to that rosy cheek. The quiet sound of his fingers running over his stubble was deafening when he found his lips parting. Tingling. Shouta was so close. An awkward lean that he could rectify if he leaned forward. If he closed the distance on his end of things. Sliding his finger back down to his jaw, Shouta's gaze warmed. A warmth that had his heart skipping.
It was like a dream come true just to touch this man's cheek. To skim his fingers over his sharp jawline to his chin. Along his cheek up to his cheekbone. He switched his touch from his left cheek to the right where he traced his fingers along the scar beneath his right eye. Tracing out its shape. Trailing his fingers down his cheek when Shouta's lips parted slightly with those dark eyes locked onto him. As if waiting to see what he would do. What he wanted from the black-haired man. "Shouta?"
"Yes, Hizashi?" God, that roughness to his voice was going to be the death of him. His fingers trembled lightly when he slid his fingers over his chin to his jawline. There was a quiet groan of the desk from Shouta's press against it, yet it didn't change a damn thing. There was a breathlessness to Shouta when he slid his fingers along his jaw again. He was so warm beneath his fingers; not at all cold like he'd thought he'd be. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat when he shifted forward.
A slight angle forward that had breaths hitching when Shouta leaned forward while he moved in with his hand moving. Cupping that beautiful, rosy cheek of his when he slid his thumb along his cheekbone with dark eyes locked onto him. So close he swore he could see those pupils expanding in the darkness of Shouta's iris. Trembling breaths being taken as he slid his thumb over the black-haired man's cheek with black lashes fluttering in a blink. Was this it? Was this what he wanted? "I want-"
He choked. He couldn't squeeze the words out of his tight throat. What were those words? What did he want to say to the black-haired man before him as his breaths came in trembling hitches. His thumb tracing along his cheekbone, he found himself at a loss for words. The thrumming beneath his skin was like a background sound; a white noise that was growing louder, louder, louder in his ears leaving him deaf. His hand trembled when Shouta reached up to touch the back of it lightly. "What do you want, Zashi?"
"I want to-" The door of his office was then flying open with a deafening thud as it bounced off the wall. He jerked back again with the chair sliding out faster than he could adjust. He slid out of his chair, crashing to the floor with a thud, as dark eyes widened at him over the edge of his deck. He gasped at the pain of his ass radiating up his back when he scrambled to get back into his chair where he found Hitoshi and Izuku staring with mouths dropping open. "Izuku! Hitoshi! What have I told you about knocking?!"
"To knock before openin' a door!" Both boys chirruped when Taishiro appeared in the doorway with a worried expression pinching at his chubby face when his eyes widened at the sight before him. He slid into his chair which pushed into the wall with a rattle as Shouta straightened up quickly. Izuku then reached up to tug on Taishiro's sweater hem. "Tai, that's Mister Aizawa! He's Dad's friend! He comes to play and spends time with us all the time! Right, To?"
The indigo haired boy nodded vigorously when the larger blonde reached down to coax both boys to turn on their feet. Cupping the backs of their heads that turned to look over their shoulders at the sight before them as his face ripped with heat. Ducking his face away, his shoulders scrunching up, there was a click of a tongue. "Alright, alright, go to the table you two! Wanna get the food out for all of us, yeah? Let your father finish up his conversation so let's go!"
The boys whined as they were pushed into the break room with the door swinging shut with a firm thud that had him letting out a breath. Something he hadn't been aware of he'd been holding when Shouta weaved on his feet before stumbling back a step. A hesitant look pinching at that brilliant red face when the black-haired man fussed with the ends of his scarf. Awkward. It was painfully awkward when he kept his face ducked away when the black-haired man cleared his throat. "I-I think I'll take my leave. Are you alright, Zashi?"
"I'm fine! But I'll call you later to talk more, yeah?" The black-haired man hesitated once more before nodding as he spun on his feet with brisk strides being taken across the room to the door. He wanted to howl out for him not to go. The words clawed up his throat, but he clenched his jaw tightly against the urge that would only serve to embarrass him further when the door was tugged open with Shouta slipping out. The door clicking shut behind him when he lifted his hands up to groan softly into them.
Goddammit.
