Chapter Text
It was one of those nights.
The kind Aizawa added to a collection deep in his mind to remind him of what was important when he worked the ugly parts of the underground. He hadn't intended on going out. Seemed more of a waste than anything considering the meager amount in his bank account between deep dives, but Hizashi insisted. On him coming and on picking up the tab, which was a damn near automatic guarantee when his friend wanted to drag his ass anywhere.
Aizawa rarely said no to free.
It was a good night. Bar 65 was a decent joint. Not too upscale, not too low of a dive. It was a middle ground between the type of place he'd choose and the type of joint Hizashi would go for and the drinks were always strong.
They were a few hours in and Aizawa knew his cheeks were ruddy with it. From all the mix drinks and all the bullshit-based laughs during the mix drinks. He was enjoying the buzz, waiting for Hizashi to come back with more and keep the night flowing, but a glance towards the bar to see what was taking him so long hinted at their outing coming to a close. The bartender was slammed but Hizashi didn't seem to mind. Perfectly content to turn on the charm and laugh alongside a sunny looking brick wall with a faded pink dye job while he waited. If Aizawa's eyes didn't deceive, he had a feeling that'd be Hizashi's catch of the night.
It was confirmed a few minutes later when the blonde returned, drinks in hand, and set Aizawa's down in front of him. Less because of that and more because Hizashi took his still standing. Tequila and lime without salt.
The shot glass ended up on the table anyway, upside down. Aizawa watched him cast a look back toward the bar.
"Alright buddy, I think I'm out. Shootin' my shot with that tasty piece still waitin' at the bar." Hazy green eyes returned, dopey smile on his face. "You cool if I dip? I'll settle the tab and leave a little extra for ya."
Aizawa shrugged. Took his shot and the glass ended stacked on top of Hizashi's.
"Fine by me. I know my way back."
"Hell yeah. Glad you came out with me! There's tons of tasty potential left, even with me gone and off the table." He flexed his blonde eyebrows obnoxiously and rapt knuckles against the table before turning away. "Try not to go home empty handed! Do it for me, Shou!"
Hizashi was the only one that called him Shouta. The only one that called him 'Shou.' At least he was now. It was strange even back when there were two people, but now it was stranger.
Hizashi himself felt like a stranger from time to time. He wasn't. Aizawa knew him well enough. But there was a part of him he didn't know or understand. Mainly the part that was slinking back up to the bar and letting the pink brickhouse wrap an arm around him on their way out. Aizawa didn't care to understand but he didn't like not knowing.
He was only partially invested in mulling it over when something pretty caught his eye. Tall. Taller still in heels with long legs that went on for days. Aizawa swallowed down what remained of his beer and pushed himself up to go talk to her. Told himself it wasn't because of his not-quite-promise to Hizashi and that he liked the way her attention trailed over him like a beckoning fingernail in bright red polish.
Her smile was coy when he asked to buy her a drink and she looked at him through her lashes. Icy blue that probably would have looked white under the right set of lights. For some reason they left him disappointed. So did her play at being shy even though everything about their encounter, and the conversation that followed, told him she wasn't.
Aizawa took her home anyway.
She wasn't impressed by the state of his apartment but cared a lot less when he picked her up and kissed her against the wall. Against his bedroom door too. And she cared even less when he laid her back and ate her out until his meager beard was wet and she'd shaken apart twice.
The desire wasn't really there. Unless the desire not to hurt her counted, but Aizawa didn't think that it did.
Still, he relished the impending release. Rolled the condom on smooth and steady and told himself he wasn’t a piece of shit when she looked nervously at the size of his dick and the main emotion he felt about it was annoyance. Ultimately, she decided to try her luck and decided to ride him so she'd have more control, which was fine by Aizawa. Only a dipshit minded being on the bottom.
She surprised him when she climbed on top with her back to him and it was only then that Aizawa fully realized she was blonde.
Thick and pretty, the blonde curtain fell nearly all the way down her back the moment she unclipped it and Aizawa could do nothing but stare when she shook it out.
Was that how Hizashi looked right now; on top and about to take somebody apart? He'd never thought much of it. Usually ignored his best friend's boastful tales of what he'd said or done in the sack but Aizawa suddenly wished he would have paid more attention. He couldn't picture it and, to his immense surprise, some part of him wanted to.
His one night stand took him entirely by surprise when she took his cock inside of her body and Aizawa grunted at the shift. His hands found her hips and he tried to sink back into the present the way he always did when he fucked— chasing after the pleasure and the promise of good, solid sleep when he was done, but he was stuck in his head still.
Thinking about Hizashi.
And that was probably a bit not good.
Aizawa couldn't do much about it. His dick was too hard and her pussy was fantastic around him, even through the condom. Having his best friend's face blip into his imagination every few thrusts was getting him there, so he didn't begrudge it. Much. Aizawa just rode it out like he did everything else. Let her bounce on him and fuck herself to her hearts content and, when she got tired, he took over because that's what was expected.
And if Aizawa put her belly down so that he didn't have to see her face while he fucked her, then that was nobody's business but his own.
It wasn't anything spectacular. Not more so than usual. He came, maybe a little faster than usual but not by much. She was already slipping back into her pants by the time he had the condom tied off but Aizawa didn't care. They both got what they wanted and now, much more than entertaining questions he didn't want and side stepping attempts at a connection he didn't care to have, he got to roll over and go to sleep.
Aizawa watched her go, listened for the door and didn't roll into his pillow until he heard it click behind her.
Unconsciousness was imminent and he was ready for it, but what he wasn't ready for was the quiet curiosity of whether Hizashi was just as pretty on his way out the door, or if he was the type to stay and cuddle. Even if only for one night.
It didn't stop Aizawa from drifting off but it followed him down deep, and he woke up with the fading memory of green eyes instead of blue.
The newfound awareness plagued him.
Not that he’d ever really been unaware of the asshole he’d latched himself to. Hizashi made that damn near impossible. Aizawa’s peacock best friend was an easy target to be aware of damn near any time but he was especially easy to follow with a gaze tonight. Red leather flashy in the typical Present Mic fashion; it made him a sight hard to miss. Even when his hair was down.
Quiet and not altogether intrusive, the awareness wasn't encroaching enough for him to consider it a trespass… but it wasn't absent and on its way to being forgotten the way Aizawa would've preferred. The fact that it lingered at all spoke volumes Aizawa didn't want to hear. He did his best to ignore the thoughts turning themselves over in his mind but there was only so much he could pretend didn’t exist. Only so many times he could lie to himself and claim he was thinking about a one night stand he couldn't remember when he caught himself staring at Hizashi for too long.
Like now.
Off talking to some bureaucrats Aizawa didn't pretend to know, Hizashi was in his element. Talking, because the thorn in his side was always talking. Animatedly, this time. With his hands, but also with the loud expression of his facial features.
Aizawa fleetingly wondered if he was equally expressive in other situations, and the thought made him scowl.
It was becoming a problem.
Mostly, Aizawa thought— lifting the cup to his mouth and grimacing through a swallow of room temperature alcohol— because he didn't know what to do about it. Or what it meant.
As a man of action, Aizawa was more prone to dealing with problems as they arose. Sooner rather than later, when possible. If for no other reason than the reassurance of not having to remember to think about it again. Much easier that way. He wasn't one to procrastinate the things that’d get him killed. Usually wasn't one to lie to himself either. But Aizawa didn't know what to do about this problem.
He didn't know if it was a problem.
What he knew was this— he’d become aware of Hizashi and he kept thinking about the other man in a way that was sexual, but also not. It was… vaguely sexual. Aizawa wasn't fantasizing about him. Actively. Not while he was getting himself off or any other time, but he was contemplating how Hizashi might look and act when he was having sex. Which, no way around it, was sexual. Was that a sexuality crisis? Was curiosity a crisis? Aizawa didn’t know. It could be that he’d simply noticed his best friend was pretty and was unable to stop noticing. At least until it once again became background noise. Things caught him off guard sometimes, even things under his nose for a long time. Was curious noticing a problem? And how long was too long to be aware of it?
Aizawa had no answers, and it was starting to grate on his nerves.
"Hey Wallflower." The devil teased from out of nowhere. "Lookin’ drastically grumpy all deep in thought over here.”
Aizawa grunted. He tried not to look at him but failed.
It wasn't red leather. It was red velvet. The pants were red leather, and an eyesore, but the riding jacket was dark velvet and Hizashi was making it work somehow.
Aizawa didn't care about fabrics or fashion but part of him wanted to touch and he didn't fucking understand why.
"Nothing here catching your eye?" The blonde leaned against the wall at his back and plucked the cup out of Aizawa's hand. Took a sip and immediately made a face. "Oh yuck, Shou. What the fuck? This is warm as hell, why are you drinking this?"
Aizawa shrugged.
"Too lazy to go grab a different one, I guess."
"Yeah no, I don't think so. Come on."
Hizashi grabbed his hand to tow him through the thick of the gathering and Aizawa's entire focus zeroed in on that point of contact.
It was warm.
His hand was warm and surprisingly soft. Dry, but not dry.
The frazzled underground pro thought of nothing else all the way over to the bar. When they got there, Aizawa let Hizashi order him a drink without complaint. It was easy to pretend not to notice the strangely satisfied— satisfied? Smug? —look on Hizashi's face when Aizawa took what he was given and swallowed it down.
"Way better than warm beer. Gotta be. You’re welcome." Hizashi's expression dared him to deny it so he didn't.
"It's good." Aizawa conceded, drawing in another cool mouthful of whatever fruity thing was in the glass.
Hizashi preened. Like a bird. Always like a bird, since they were teens. Proud and openly so. Aizawa couldn't help wondering what there was to be proud about. Was he really so closed off that getting him to admit to liking something new was an achievement?
Aizawa didn't know. Didn't know how he felt about it. Apparently didn't know how he felt about a lot of things.
He tried to be comfortable existing in the lull in conversation that followed. Well. Lull was generous. And a lie. Hizashi was saying things, Aizawa just wasn't paying attention. But maybe he should've been because that's how he ended up in the, 'Can't imagine what you're like in bed even though you've talked at length about it' boat.
Making the attempt to pay more attention did him the opposite of a favor. The moment Aizawa re-engaged, something caught Hizashi's eye and he perked up, staring at it intently.
"Hey, I'll be right back. I've gotta jump on this before anyone else does. Hang here, I'll just be a sec!"
And then he was gone.
Lost among too many people. Sensing an opportunity like blood in the water— one that ended up being a set of blue haired twins that looked vaguely familiar.
Aizawa didn't bother trying to place their faces. Instead he looked down at his own hand and remembered Hizashi holding it. How nice that'd been, somehow. How much easier it was to navigate the thrum of people when he had Hizashi there to part the Red Sea with nothing but his will to get from Point A to Point B.
A strange thing to admire, Aizawa thought, but he did. He admired Hizashi.
...huh.
He took to avoiding Hizashi.
Not altogether. Aizawa still answered his texts. Calls too. But he avoided seeing him in person for the time being. Claimed he was prepping for a long stint underground, because he was. They both knew he couldn't afford to be distracted. Not anymore than he already was.
Ultimately, that was only an excuse.
Aizawa was no closer to understanding what was happening than before. No answers, only more questions. Aizawa was tired of thinking about it.
So he avoided doing that.
He avoided his own thoughts in a way he never would have before. Hunkered down tight and waited to go undercover. He spent his days and nights training. Memorizing his identity. Preparing.
It bit him in the ass.
Or rather, it fucked him over in a stroke of irony.
As luck would have it, Aizawa ended up kissing another man to save his cover not three days after he started his mission. It wasn't all that different from kissing a woman. Still warm. Still wet. Maybe less set-in-stone expectations about who would lead and who would follow but... Still just a kiss, but suddenly Aizawa was thinking about Hizashi more than ever.
The whole thing expounded his issue immensely for the sole fact that it served to prove Aizawa’s curiosity was Hizashi specific and not just a run of the mill sexuality crisis. Which he should've been thrilled by but seemed like more of a pain than a relief.
Now, instead of wondering if he'd feel more stereotypical passion with a man, Aizawa now knew that wasn't the case. Hizashi wasn’t just a well placed catalyst. At least it seemed that way. Aizawa wasn't all that hard pressed to go further with men to find out if sex itself was different, though maybe he'd change his mind on that later, but the question of what it might be like with Hizashi specifically remained unanswered and more insistent than ever.
Rife with misfortune on that front, Aizawa’s brain was no longer content being passive about rolling that question around.
For three months, it was all he could think about.
Three months balls deep in undercover work and every moment Aizawa wasn't thinking about how to break open the operation, or how to avoid being detected, or how to save lives and maintain his moral code, he was thinking about Hizashi. Wondering about Hizashi.
He went to sleep idly considering what his facial hair would feel like if they kissed. He woke up trying to parse what Hizashi craved in his partners. Brushed his teeth curious about what it was like to sink into an asshole and if Hizashi liked being on the bottom. Jerked off wondering if Hizashi would be better at it than him. Walked away from a fight with bloody knuckles and self soothed by considerations of whether or not he’d let Hizashi fuck him if he was given the chance.
It kept him sane, and drove him insane.
He'd never been so distracted in his entire fucking life.
Even the grief of losing their best friend hadn’t felt as distracting as the incessant curiosity about Hizashi.
Hizashi Hizashi Hizashi Hizashi!
At least with Oboro, it drove him to better himself. To get better and work harder and do everything in his power to avoid that outcome ever again by pouring himself as fully into his training as humanly possible, but this—!
It was consuming him. Consuming him with nowhere to go but further in.
The moment he broke cover and got to go home, Aizawa avoided Hizashi some more on principle. He turned his phone off and laid down in his bed, refusing to move for two solid days. Every time he thought about Hizashi, he rolled over and forced himself back to sleep. He was tired of it. He didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want sex on his mind, the way it seemed to be for everyone else. He didn't want to be curious about his best friend.
Avoidance wasn't Aizawa's go-to method but neither was talking things out. Even if he did, it'd be to Hizashi. Aizawa didn't want to do that. So, this time? This time he'd allow himself an exception.
And he did.
He did until he couldn't anymore.
All things came to an end and, no matter how tired or frustrated, Aizawa couldn't avoid Hizashi forever. Didn't want to, honestly, but even if he had, it wasn't possible.
Life was inevitable like that. And so was Hizashi.
"SHOOUUUU," The pounding on his door was almost as loud as the man on the other side of it. "SHOU, C'MOOOOOON!!! I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN MONTHS! I HAVE BEER. GET YOUR ASS UP BEFORE I SHATTER THE WINDOW AND CLIMB IN!!!"
Aizawa groaned. Curled up in an even tighter ball and tried to cover his head, and his ears, with a pillow, but the knock!knock!knock!knock! continued; each round faster and longer lasting.
Not only was Hizashi the loudest man on earth, he was also the most annoying and persistent.
"Go away, Yamada." Aizawa groaned pathetically into his mattress, but it was followed by another insistent string of pounding raps against his front door.
"Fine. Fine!"
Aizawa threw back the covers and stalked angrily through his place, slamming the deadbolt open and ripping his front door open with enough force that it would've put a hole in the wall if he didn't have the knob in a death grip.
"Shouta!!!"
He glared like it could put his friend in an early grave but Hizashi's wide, blinding sunlight smile was an impenetrable shield.
Figures.
"I was starting to think your agency was full of shit and you were still gone! What gives, man? Where you been!"
"Sleeping." Aizawa answered in a doldrums deadpan.
—while ignoring how weirdly touching it was to know how thoroughly Hizashi kept up with his agency while he was undercover.
"Fuck that!" The obnoxious blonde laughed, side stepping him to enter his place like there was no doubt that he was welcome. And he was, dammit, he fucking was. Aizawa half-slammed the door behind him and turned to watch Hizashi walk through his apartment with two packs of beer in hand. "Sleep when you're dead! I haven't seen your ass in six months and I'm not waiting on you to finish catching up on all the beauty sleep you missed before I get to see you!"
"Didn't know you were only in it for my ass." Aizawa commented flatly the way he would have before only to stiffen.
Hizashi's back was to him and Aizawa didn't know whether it was better that the blonde couldn't see him or worse that he couldn't see Hizashi's full reaction before he barked out the laugh that followed.
"Not just your ass. I'm here to borrow your fridge and make fun of the way you live too." He fired back, depositing the two six packs into the fridge in question, bringing two brews back over.
Aizawa took one. Popped the top on the edge of his table and watched Hizashi do his on the side of his belt.
His friend dropped heavily to his couch, probably in the hopes that it'd break and he’d be in a position to buy him a replacement. "So what's up?"
"With what?" Aizawa asked, dropping down beside him equally heavy and taking a swig.
Hizashi raised an eyebrow. That was generally his line.
"Seriously? You haven't said shit to me in six months."
"I was undercover." Aizawa answered, confident in that reply, even with how awkward he felt.
"Yeah and now you aren't. You've been home for two days."
"Three days." Aizawa knee-jerk responded, nearly bashing himself over the skull for saying it a second later.
The sharp, pointed stare being jabbed into him from Hizashi's side of the couch proved his point.
"Exactly my fuckin' point.” The blonde confirmed. “Three days and nothin’! What gives!"
Hizashi drank about it, and Aizawa shrugged it off. Drank a couple swallows himself.
It occurred to Aizawa, in that moment, that he didn't know how to lie to his best friend. There was never anything he'd felt the need to hide. There was only what he felt like saying, and what he didn't. Never what he couldn't say.
"Wasn't ready for company, I guess." Aizawa was finally forced to go with.
Forced because Hizashi was waiting patiently for once, not having filled the silence with any of his own chatter or assumptions for Aizawa could latch onto. Extremely inconvenient timing for a change, if he was honest.
Glass rim of a half empty beer bottle still pressed to his lips just beneath the ridiculous mustache that Aizawa couldn't stop thinking about, Hizashi stilled. Mid tilt, amber liquid halfway up the neck while Hizashi stared at him with a look of understanding that Aizawa both didn't comprehend, and feared would be accurate.
The bottle lowered, drink not taken.
"Did something happen?"
Aizawa's face screwed up. "What?"
Hizashi looked awkward and that only made the nervous confusion worse. "During the mission. Are you having trouble... Reintegrating to being a hero and a civilian or whatever? Because of some shit you had to do in the underground?"
Understanding swept through him hard and fast and Aizawa felt both relieved and further touched by the care shown to him.
He also felt the urge to lie. The out was right there. Waiting for him. Conveniently provided and already accepted. Easy enough to understand. Easier still to justify as the truth. He wanted to. Badly. Aizawa would rather deal with being seen as human than have to try and keep swerving the interrogation about why he hadn't called.
But he couldn't.
Lying to Hizashi wasn't an option.
"No." Aizawa denied honestly like a nail in the coffin. "I just needed some time."
Despite how well he knew Hizashi, Aizawa wasn't entirely sure if the blonde believed him or not. It was the truth, but was it truthful enough to get him leniency, was the question. Hizashi seemed to be mulling that one over as well. Aizawa would've been sweating about it if he was made of less sturdy stuff.
Instead he was staring at his best friend and trying not to wonder if his observant scrutiny transferred to other areas of his life and that was giving him a pseudo aneurysm.
Apparently he accepted the answer given because Hizashi took another thoughtful swallow of his rapidly dwindling beer and said, "Okay... Well. A text would have been nice. I know when to take a hint."
Aizawa stared at him. He stared right at him with flat, unenthused features, looked over at his front door, and then slowly back at Hizashi.
The off-duty voice hero laughed. Loudly. Unattractively. It made his stomach flip all the same and Aizawa tried not to think about it.
"Yeah okay, you got me there. I don't. But! If I knew you were alive and I'd get to see you soon, I could've made myself wait!"
He sincerely doubted that and it probably showed because Hizashi was looking sheepish. Unabashed in it while he tipped his head back and downed the entirety of his beer, all the way to the foam.
Aizawa didn't stare. And he didn't watch the way Hizashi's throat worked when he swallowed. He didn't.
"Okay fine." Hizashi begrudgingly acquiesced. "Maybe I would have sucked at that too, but I wouldn't have shown up to beat your door down! Probably!"
The probably got Hizashi some wiggle room. Benefit of the doubt. Aizawa smirked and drank his beer, trying to be comfortable the way they usually were.
It wasn't meant to last.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hizashi asked, silently informing Aizawa that he wasn't off the hook and hadn't flown as far under the radar as he'd hoped. "Whatever is bugging you?"
Hizashi did him the courtesy of getting up. Turning his back under the guise of getting two more drinks for them both instead of watching him and his reaction. And Aizawa was grateful for that because, staring at his back while he walked away, all he could see was the nameless, faceless one night stand he barely remembered. Naked. High heels on her finger.
Hizashi looked back at him from the fridge but the image didn't change. Her long hair was his long hair. Her tall lanky frame was his. Her blurry-memory face replaced with what Aizawa actually wanted to see.
It made his dick threaten to stir, held at bay only by the bile that threatened to crawl up the back of his throat.
Aizawa swallowed it down thickly.
"Not yet."
Addressing it was an inevitability, Aizawa knew that. He wasn't delusional enough to believe he could hide whatever was plaguing him forever, or even for very long. Not with the way things were going. He wasn't meant to linger on distractions. Not to that degree.
Fuck.
Thankfully, Hizashi didn't push any further. He accepted the delay with a hell of a lot of grace considering his nature and stayed quiet when he handed Aizawa another beer. Opened this time, because the voice hero was feeling generous.
"Mkay. I can take a hint. The hint? This is me taking it. Leaving things be like the super rad best friend I am." Hizashi insisted. "Well, since you're all tight lipped about what's been up with you, I guess it's up to ME to fill YOU IN, and boy do I have some shiiiit to catch you up on! You're not gonna believe this. You remember Echo and Sandstorm and that whole clusterfuck? It got worse, bro. So I was —"
Aizawa relaxed with a smile and settled in, watching Hizashi abandon his beer in order to get more animated in the latest juicy gossip. For the first time since before he left, things felt almost normal.
He could only hope things stayed that way
A couple weeks went by and Aizawa still wasn’t addressing it.
The intrusive thoughts persisted but he was learning to live with them. Slowly getting more comfortable with their contents. Learning to ignore, or at the very least to not let the tangle sweep him up so damn bad.
Aizawa started to let his guard down, thinking he had it all under control, which ultimately led to his biggest mistake.
Like an idiot, he’d agreed to go to the onsen with Hizashi. Hadn't needed much convincing, really. He had something out in his left shoulder after getting slammed into a dumpster over a week ago and the discomfort hadn’t gone anywhere. A nice long soak sounded pretty damn good. Time with Hizashi sounded pretty damn good.
It was difficult. Missing him. Being confused by him. About himself. Knowing Hizashi was at the center. Wanting to shy away until he got it sorted but still feeling his absence like a missing limb.
They didn't typically spend every moment together, but it was enough time spent to be felt while Aizawa took to avoiding him. That could only go on for so long though, and he’d run out of time. He couldn’t keep dodging his best friend. There was a high chance he'd go back undercover before the end of the week, with a minimum of two months no-contact, and not seeing Hizashi before then wasn’t an option. Not to Aizawa, and probably not to Hizashi either.
Which, ultimately, was how Aizawa found himself in the Tochigi Prefecture, at a hot spring in Nikko during the snows.
It laid in a heavy sound dampening blanket around the onsen. Icy powder thick atop a dense, stumpy wood backing that curved around the steamy pool. Streaks of fallen excess packed into divots between each log, stark white outlining the natural wood knots found in each one to make them all the more apparent. Steam rose off the water, lingering like a fog, and the damp rocks that surrounded the natural paradise looked all the more dark compared to predominantly undisturbed snow and clusters of trees covered in frost.
It was beautiful. Beautiful enough to help hold Aizawa over during all the ugly that would inevitably come when he sunk back into the putrid underbelly that needed him.
Hizashi chattered on a few paces behind, bemoaning the struggles of still being an up and coming hero and an intern at the same time— it may as well have been a background chorus to the rising chatter between their teeth.
Unforgiving chill bit at his skin the moment Aizawa started to peel himself out of his clothes. Cold as he already was after the hike it took to get there, somehow there was a way to be colder still. Aizawa felt it all the way down to his bones as he undressed. He ran hot, but the cold was persistent in his body and the fucked up portion of his shoulder ached.
He had less to take off than Hizashi who, being quite a bit skinnier and all around more prepared than him, had opted for more layers. Easing into the hot water was bliss. Easy to melt into, easier than the tubs at the bathhouse after an especially grueling patrol. Even with the sharp prickles of drastic temperature change. They didn't last long, nearly gone by the time he moved to the side and settled into a dip in the naturally formed stone, but the lack of distraction drew his focus to places it shouldn't be.
Namely to Hizashi. In front of him and stripping himself free of the last layers of clothing between him and his own bare skin.
"Fuuuuuck me, man!" Hizashi hastily tossed a scarf atop a growing pile of thick fabric. "Haven't even made it to butt naked yet and still I feel like I'm about to get shafted by Jack Frost!"
Aizawa tried not to notice. He tried, much harder, to focus on being amused watching his best friend hop to get his boots off, hissing and jerking his toes away from ice cold rocks the second he lost a sock and had to put his foot down. It wasn't a total failure. Aizawa was amused. Content listening to Hizashi complain through the teeth about icicles forming in unsavory places, but the amusement wasn't enough to distract from the body being so casually revealed to him.
Long... long legs. Trim and narrow waist. Scatters of blonde hair on his arms and legs like the grass trying to poke up through the snow.
Aizawa turned his attention away. Watched the ripples across the water instead, but it was tugged right back when Hizashi peeled off his undershirt shirt with a curse. Aizawa glanced up automatically and his breath hitched. Hizashi's nipples were already tight. Peaked from the cold and getting harder. Puckered. Darker than he remembered— it felt weird that he remembered. Normal people didn't remember their best friend's nipples.
The crisis peaked with them when Hizashi turned his back to add it to the pile.
He had dimples at the small of his back. A dip along the length of his spine that looked graceful. Meant to be licked—
Aizawa startled at that thought, never having thought something so blatantly sexual about another person's body. He had no time to recover. His best friend hauled his boxers down, exposing a tiny, flat ass and turning all at once to reveal the firm expanse of a flat, toned belly, sharp hip dips, and a soft, flaccid cock that Aizawa didn't know how to look away from.
Hizashi was practically diving for the water the second he was fully bare, squawking loudly when he sunk in, probably from the pins and needles feeling, but the damage was already done. Furthered exponentially by the suggestive groan of pleasure that sounded the second Hizashi melted into the warmth.
"That was brutal." His friend lamented, already on his way to loose-limbed in the heat. "Come during the snows, they said! It's so majestic! They didn't say I'd have to freeze my balls off on the hike to get here!"
Aizawa grunted in agreement but his mind was elsewhere. Namely on a desperate attempt to close a box determined to be open.
The lid didn't want to go down, and once it did, the latch didn't want to hold. All the questions he couldn't answer and didn't feel like pondering were all sitting at the forefront of his mind. Now with new unwanted curiosities on the horizon.
Steam rose among them, creating the illusion of distant privacy. Between them, around them— it felt a bit like a dream. A liminal space that existed outside of real life. Aizawa fought with the box as long as he could but, eventually, the dreamy, relaxing environment coaxed him into saying fuck it. Soaking into his skin until he gave in to the quiet, unassuming peace and sunk down into his thoughts. Aizawa let the unreality of it take him while he slipped further under the water, desperate to send his aches along with it.
The box was unable to be closed so Aizawa let it be open. Pondered all that he'd avoided from the safety of a living dream. Silently. Deeply. With an open, if exhausted, mind. There was no hiding from it now. All that was left was hiding it from Hizashi, and even that felt pointless in the long run. A temporary solution to an issue he'd only ever really wanted to unravel and understand for himself before he tried to bring anyone else into it.
Lord knew being attracted to Hizashi wouldn't be nearly enough to drive the other man away. Hell, even fucking him probably wouldn't be enough to do that. Aizawa didn't know if there was anything that could. He simply preferred to know what he meant before he acted. Actions held weight, and Aizawa didn't want a misstep or any regret.
Hizashi's voice broke through the drift of his own thoughts. "You're awfully quiet."
Aizawa hummed in acknowledgement and closed his eyes. Letting himself float in water meant to sooth all ails.
"You're usually quiet. That's your shtick, but you've been quieter than usual. For a while now." Hizashi's voice slipped through the fog but lingered around him all the same, opening the way for guilt to get a foot in the door.
"I've been working through something." He allowed.
"Is it still not yet?" The guilt rose. Aizawa knew he put the issue off longer than he should have and the hesitance in Hizashi's voice made him feel like a shit friend. Even more so when Hizashi said, "I'm a big time yapper but I can be a good listener too, y'know? Maybe I could put a different spin on things for you. Help you see... Whatever you're dug in deep about from a different angle. If.. If you want."
That touch of insecurity, right there at the end, decided it all for him.
Aizawa opened his eyes and stared up into the grey blanket far above, wondering if it would start to snow again.
"Hizashi."
"Yeah?"
"You like fucking men."
Twin splashes broke through the stark, ringing silence that followed and Aizawa felt the ripples against his body.
"Uhhhhhh, well shit. Okay." Hizashi laughed quietly. "Yeah. Yeah. I like fucking men. A lot."
"Mmm... Why?"
A sputter of sound not unlike an engine failing to turn over. "Wh— Shouta. What do you mean why?"
"I mean why. What do you like about it?" He persisted.
Aizawa could sense Hizashi's frustrated, growing concern pushing up against him like an attempt at osmosis via the water. He ignored it; an impassable membrane.
"Are you really asking me that?"
He was, but didn't say it with anything more than a hum and that frustrated the man across from him even more.
Ultimately, Hizashi was himself. Always. Fully and unapologetically, so Aizawa wasn't all that surprised when he took a somewhat aggressive route to the vaguely crude line of questioning.
"Fuck it— Sure, why not. What do I like about fucking men? All of it. I dig being manhandled around and bent every which way, having my best feature wrecked while I'm getting my face fucked and I’m eagerly partial to taking it up the ass harder than a villain beat down and walking away with a limp like an old school pimp. Feeling that shit for days? There’s nothing better. Fucking— is this really what we're doing?” Hizashi suddenly demanded, incredulous. “Is my queer sex life what you're trying to hear right now, Shouta?"
It was.
It wasn't.
Aizawa found he didn't care about the answer as much as the way he felt hearing Hizashi say his first name. It was as much of an answer as it was the most damning piece of evidence so far.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Aizawa answered, offering him an out.
Hizashi didn't take it. He splashed rudely in his general direction with an irritated noise. "Fuck you, dude. I'm not uncomfortable. I'm shameless. Really fucking shameless and you'd know that if you ever listened to me."
That was probably true. Aizawa could feel bad but there was no changing it now. Only attempting to listen to the details of Hizashi's lewd chatter more closely in the future, he supposed. No undoing, only doing better.
"I care about you, you stubborn prick." Hizashi added. Begrudgingly sincere, by the sounds of it. "I'm not uncomfortable, I'm just... Really fucking confused about why you're asking me what I like about fucking dudes."
It seemed like that should be obvious, and it probably was considering Hizashi hardly paused.
"Because listen, man, if that's what this is all about? All of this fuckin’... angsting secrecy? If alllll that is over some mundane bullshit like being curious about dick, I'm going to be really surprised and kind of pissed off because giving two shits about something like that isn’t like you at all." Hizashi snipped, point blank. And then got even more direct when he asked, "Are you all hermiting up in your shell because you've been thinking about men in the sack and you're weirded out about it or what?"
It was such a Hizashi way to ask if he was having a sexuality crisis that Aizawa chuckled.
"Don't just fucking laugh and then keep it all to yourself, Shouta, I'm serious."
Aizawa lifted his head and water poured down the strands of his hair back down into the pool like a waterfall. Stream rose off his head and the chill was finally welcome, cooling him down while he considered what to say. He looked across the way and, through the fog, Hizashi wasn't smiling. He had both arms crossed over his chest and he was waiting. Expectantly.
"It’s not just that." He conceded after a moment of stubborn silence. The answer seemed to placate Hizashi for the time being, though not enough to get him to uncross his arms.
Aizawa sighed. Laid his elbow across the top of a rock and leaned his head into an open hand.
"I don't care about sex." He said, not knowing where to go with it.
Which took Hizashi entirely off guard if the whiplash twist of confusion on his face meant a thing at all.
"Huh?"
"Sex. I don't care about it."
"Ohhhhkay. I'm. I’m not following, but— okay well, maybe I'm following. I’m not not following. Do you not care about it because it sucks? With women?" He asked, trying to connect some dots.
Aizawa almost regretted dashing the theory. "No. I just don't care about it. It feels good but that's it. It feels good. Something to do. Helps me sleep, I guess."
Hizashi was getting more stumped by the second and if it would have been even remotely funny, Aizawa could have laughed about it.
He tried to throw him a bone.
"I had to kiss a man while I was undercover, but it didn't feel any different from kissing a woman. Just... Wet. Good for a kiss."
A light of understanding behind green eyes, even through the steam, and somehow it comforted him. Like maybe Hizashi would have an answer that made sense.
"You know... Sexuality is... Fluid. There's nuance, ya dig? Some people aren't into it. Or they are but only with certain people? It's hard to explain... But I can send you some stuff. Some terms that you can... Read about.”
An unexpected oasis of relief sat heavily in the center of all Aizawa's uncertainty at the offer. He didn't much care, usually, but.. It'd be nice. To know. If there was something to be known.
"Okay." He said quietly, and Hizashi nodded, finally uncrossing his arms.
"Okay... Okay well good. Easily taken care of! Lickety-split! Answer sought, answer given, BOOM, just like that— but it doesn't explain why the hell you're asking me what I like about fucking men. What the hell is that about? Shock value start or what?”
"Ice breaker?" Shouta lied boldly without trying to hide it.
Hizashi glared full force at him. Grabbed a handful of snow to throw in his direction for good measure and Aizawa took it with grace, watching the powder fall apart before it could hit him and melt in an instant.
"Get to the point, dickhead."
Aizawa dropped his arm, leveling Hizashi with a look, but did as he asked. "I'm asking because I've never fucked a man before. Never wanted to or thought much about what it would be like. But..." He hesitated. Suddenly unsure of, exactly, how much he wanted to reveal now that he was actually in the inescapable thick of it. Usually so sure-footed, Aizawa did his best not to slip unexpectedly. "Recently I've started to... Want. To sleep with someone. A man. And I think maybe it will be very different from what I've experienced if it happens, but I don't know what there is to like about fucking dudes. Doesn't seem easy or all that pleasant if I'm honest."
Having glanced away to watch snow drop off heavy powder-laden branches to join the rest on the ground, Aizawa looked back at Hizashi and was taken off guard by the funny look on his face. One so out of place and unexplainable that Aizawa wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Hizashi look like that. He wished he knew what it meant.
It seemed to mark the end of their conversation and silence fell between the two of them. Aizawa felt vaguely disappointed by the end point, but thought he should've been grateful instead. Hizashi wasn't pushing and the silence wasn't awkward. That seemed like the best he could hope for. Aizawa preferred not to talk most times anyway. He had a feeling anything more would make things complicated and Aizawa wasn't good at complicated.
Still, he found himself disappointed in the tranquil peace. And thrilled when Hizashi broke it by deciding that wasn't the end.
"It's good." He offered quietly between them. "With men."
Aizawa lifted his head and exhaled, sending the curls of steam dancing in another direction while he looked to Hizashi, but this time he was the one staring off. Aizawa followed his gaze and stared at small overhanging mounds of snow that looked ready to crumble and avalanche any moment.
Aizawa thought he caught Hizashi looking his way but it was gone in a blink. Maybe his imagination, maybe not.
He wondered if it really was. Good. Aizawa couldn't imagine anything rubbing inside his ass feeling good but... Women did it sometimes too. So maybe it was. How would he know?
"What makes it good?" Aizawa asked, surprising himself.
He couldn't tell if Hizashi was surprised with him.
"It's... Different? With men. There's this... Rawness. Because it isn’t easy and isn’t always convenient.”
That only sent him further askew and Aizawa’s voice reflected it when he said, "You like fucking men because it’s harder?"
"No man— I mean, kinda, but it’s not about it being harder it’s just…You gotta want it, ya dig? Getting a handy or a quick blow behind the bar is whatever but actually fucking? It takes effort. There’s steps, y’know? You can’t just shove your dick in. You have to put the effort in, and if someone is letting you fuck them? You know they really fucking want you to.” Hizashi tossed him a look Aizawa still didn't understand, leading to that much more confusion, and then looked back at the snow mounds covering bare rock and uneven terrain. "There's less expectations too. If I'm getting freaky with a chick, I know right off the bat I gotta treat her with care. Even if she wants me to fuck her hard. Men feel more... Open. Like they can take it and I don't need to worry about it. I don't gotta take advantage, ya dig? But... If I did, they could handle it."
Aizawa did not understand. He thought he did, but ultimately he didn’t, and that stumped him. Aizawa wished that it didn't. Thinking about it was making his head hurt. It's why he didn't do complicated, and this entire evolution of awareness had become nothing but complicated. Apparently complicated was the draw.
Dark eyes stared down at the water and Aizawa debated putting himself out of his misery in it.
He followed the thought down to the water's opaque surface, though not to end it all; no matter how complicated. Instead he held his breath and submerged his face with eyes closed. Felt the heat soak into his skin and take the bitten chill from his cheeks. He exhaled slowly through his nose and felt the bubbles roll up over his temples.
"What do you think about?"
Hizashi's question took him off guard, bullying its way past the quiet his mind was trying to assemble in the chaos. Lifting his head, water rushed off Aizawa's face; dripping off his nose and his chin to race down his chest while he gave Hizashi his attention.
"About what?"
Hizashi abandoned the overly interesting snow mound to watch him instead and Aizawa's skin prickled with it. "You said you've been thinking about trying it with a guy lately. You didn't imagine it being pleasant but you're still thinking about doing it. So… some part of you has to imagine that it's hot or worthwhile. Even if it's just getting your dick sucked by somebody that has a dick and knows how to work it or something. Ergo— What do you think about?"
The wind picked up, blowing a steamy fog out from in front of their eyes right as it was replaced with a different curtain to obscure their vision. Fresh snow fell in a new start. Whipped and tumbled around by the wind.
Straggling droplets of rapidly chilled water fell off the tip of his nose. They hit the surface and Aizawa imagined the ramifications of all his actions like the ripples that followed.
Damn him for not wanting to lie.
"I think about you."
All sound ceased. No squawk. No laugh. No choking on air, spit, sound. Not even a disturbance in the water. The wind blew and the snow blanketed everything. The mound they'd been watching crumbled without either of them paying enough attention to see it happen and they both heard it hit the water far off, melting away into nothing. Neither of them said a word.
Aizawa waited, but he'd managed to render Hizashi entirely speechless. A feat, truly, and despite the lack of reassurance, or even a response, Aizawa no longer felt disappointed. In fact, he felt lighter than he had since the hookup that started it all. When he exhaled and tipped his head back, he felt truly relaxed.
They didn't talk for the entire rest of the soak and that was fine by him.