Chapter Text
“It’s not that I don’t wanna meet your parents. I really wanna meet them! I bet they’re cool like you. I’m just nervous as hell. I’ve never been in a situation like this. Meeting my boyfriend’s family, or meeting anyone’s family for that matter! Oh god, Shouta, pull over at the next gas station! I need the toilet like yesterday.” Tenko bent down and clutched his churning stomach, realizing he was rambling. He snapped his mouth shut, chewing on his lower lip before peeping out a tiny, “So fucking nervous...”
The corner of Shouta’s mouth pulled into a smile, his eyes still fixed on the road. “I’ve never introduced any romantic partner to them so I don’t think their expectations are very high.”
“Or their expectations could be through the roof because of that.” Not to mention that Shouta was going to introduce him to them. Him, Shimura Tenko, a convict living under house arrest and formerly known as the world’s most dangerous villain. Tenko couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Shouta’s parents had hoped for a slightly different kind of son-in-law candidate.
“You don’t know them. I think they would be happy if I introduced them to a cardboard figure and called it my partner. They’re ecstatic that you’re a real, living, breathing person.”
“Are they okay with… that I’m not a girl?”
“I think so. They’ve never hinted that they didn’t approve of you being a guy.”
He tasted blood, so he stopped gnawing at his lip and switched over to his thumbnail. He was wearing his usual artist gloves that covered his ring fingers and pinkies, but in hindsight, he should have worn full gloves and not only to protect his thumb. It was cold in the car despite the heat being on full blast.
“Did you remember to mention the thing about vegetables to them?”
“What thing? That you’re a vegan? I did remember. Mom is preparing her very special roasted cauliflower dish just for you.”
“Mean, Shouta!” Tenko slapped Shouta’s thigh over the center console, making him chuckle.
They drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Tenko watched the scenery sliding past. Because he spent most of his time shut inside his apartment, any kind of change was interesting to him, even something like watching the Friday afternoon rush hour. It was the Friday leading up to New Year’s, so the streets were busier than normal, everyone hurrying to do their final shopping before getting home to their families.
“We could have visited them for a quick dinner first instead of staying for four days in a row,” he pointed out.
“True. But Mom asked us to come over for New Year’s, and I just happened to tell her that we would if the authorities allowed you to.”
It was remarkable that he had gotten permission to stay away from his apartment for such a long period, let alone visit some civilians. He still had the ankle monitor, he wasn’t permitted to deviate from the route, and he had to report Kaina immediately after they returned from their trip, but it still meant the authorities trusted him more and more with each passing week and month.
“Throwing me directly to the deep end, are you?”
“Yes.” Shouta gave him a side glance. “I’m nervous too, babe. Most likely, my parents are armed to the teeth with methods of embarrassing me in front of you.”
“I don’t think they can, you’re too cool.”
“Parents tend to find a way.”
“But your parents are not like the Fockers?”
“Who?”
“Meet the Fockers. You know, that Ben Stiller movie.”
“Ah, that one.”
Tenko thought Shouta only said it because he didn’t want to sound too uncultured, but then he added, “At least my mom doesn’t teach tantric sex,” which made Tenko chortle nervously.
He had promised himself and Shouta in his mind that he would try his very best to behave like a model boyfriend. He would keep his troll side at bay and use words like ‘please’, ‘thank you’ and ‘excuse me’ and not fiddle with his phone at the dinner table. Shouta wouldn’t have to be ashamed of him.
He pulled down the sun visor and checked his reflection in the mirror before letting the flap swing back up with a thud. “Do I look okay?”
It was the fifth time he asked the same question. He knew it. He also knew he sounded pathetic. He just wanted to be very, very sure.
Shouta’s eyes didn’t pivot from the road. “You look good. Not a hair out of place.”
He had spent an eternity thinking about what to wear. He had dragged the contents of his wardrobe onto the floor, examined every single piece of clothing, mixing and matching them and then discarding them again. He couldn’t visit his possible future in-laws wearing shorts, and not only because it was the end of December and the weather was way too cold for that.
In the end, he had called Kaina for help. She had come immediately and slipped into take-charge mode, rummaged through the selection and quickly picked out a combination of dark blue chinos, a form-fitting white T-shirt and a knitted, charcoal cardigan. She had made him strip down to his underwear, told him to change the underwear (she had the decency to turn around for it) and socks, and then she had handed him one piece of clothing after another, making sure he put them on right, whatever the hell that meant. Like, did she think he was going to pull the pants on backwards or leave the fly open? Since his hair had grown a little too long, she fetched a brush and a hair tie and smoothed it all into a neat bun. It left his forehead bare, and he didn’t quite like that, because the skin there was still fairly scarred and his eyebrows were so thin and pale that he looked a bit odd, like his face was missing something essential. But Kaina had assured him that he was fine.
“Do I look like every parent’s dream son-in-law?”
“Oh, definitely, scamp.” She smirked. “But you also look like yourself.”
“Like Shigaraki?”
“What I mean is you’re not unrecognizable. But don’t worry about it. They know who you are, don’t they? You don’t have to hide.”
Tenko slumped on the bed, resting his hands between his knees, already feeling out of place. The chinos barely had any stretch and the cardigan was heavy and suffocating around his shoulders. “I just don’t want them to look at me and immediately think ‘Shigaraki’.”
“You can’t help it, scamp. But if it makes you feel any better, your demeanour, clothes and overall appearance are very different from your Shigaraki days. You don’t scream villain anymore.”
“Okay,” Tenko exhaled. “Thanks, Kaina.”
“Not a problem, scamp.”
Just then, Shouta arrived from picking up Present Mic’s Mustang. He stopped at the bedroom doorway and stared at the mess with his hands on his hips.
“I assume this means you haven’t packed yet?”
Shouta’s parents lived a little outside the city, and the drive there only took about forty minutes, so they could easily have gone back home for the night, but apparently Shouta’s mother had insisted that they stay over for the holidays, meaning they had to pack accordingly.
“Sorry, we got a little carried away with choosing suitable clothes.”
“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” Shouta pointed out, but his eyes lingered on Tenko for a second too long, taking in his new outfit with a noticeable glimmer in them. “Could you just get to it, please? I was hoping we’d get going before the worst afternoon rush hour.”
He went to the kitchen to clean up their dishes from lunch while Kaina helped pick up the stuff from the floor, and Tenko put together clothes and other necessities for the trip. There was another small interlude when Shouta popped by the door to check where he was at, saw him packing a lube bottle into his toiletry bag and asked what the hell it was coming along for.
“I– I don’t know,” Tenko sputtered and — after Shouta had stared at him meaningfully for so long that he started to itch — returned it to the nightstand drawer. Shit, leaving lube out probably meant it would be three nights and four days before they were going to have sex again. Not that he had expected they’d engage in any steamy parallel parking at Shouta’s parents’ place, but… okay, maybe he had. Just a little. He hardly ever went anywhere except the nearby park and the little grocery shop around the corner. The only apartment besides his that he’d been to in the past seven months was Kaina’s. Shouta said there wasn’t much at his place anyway, so there was no point hanging around there, and that he was more comfortable at Tenko’s apartment. Tenko hadn’t spent a single night anywhere but his own apartment in over half a year, and he’d heard that a change of scenery could add spice to bedroom activities.
But, well. Apparently that was off the menu.
Kaina cast him a feigned look of sympathy before going back to folding his clothes onto the shelves.
So, now they were sitting in Yamada’s Mustang, driving towards Shouta’s childhood home and with every passing kilometer Tenko was getting more and more agitated.
“Are you absolutely sure they didn’t invite me over so that they could kill me?”
Shouta’s sigh was a little pained, yet still patient. “Yes, I’m sure. You should have heard how excited Mom was when I told her we were coming over for the holiday.”
“But what if she’s excited to finally get to kill me?”
“Hmm, now that you mention it, she did say something about disembowelling you with a chainsaw.”
“Auugh. Shou-ta!” He pressed his hands against his abdomen again when another agonizing cramp twisted his gut. “Fuck, I’m gonna shit my pants.”
“Tenko, love. Let’s set down a few ground rules, okay? Just so that things go as smoothly as possible.” Shouta was quiet for the five seconds it took Tenko to stop hunching and gripping his clothes and to look at him expectantly. “No swearing, no talking about shitting yourself and absolutely no talking about killing anyone.”
“Got it. But it would greatly help if you stopped at the next gas station. I don’t wanna meet your parents with literal crap running down my leg. And I really don’t wanna face Yamada after shitting in his car.”
Shouta pulled over at the next possible chance. He filled the Mustang’s tank while Tenko used the restroom. After that, he felt better and could actually sit with his back straight and not worry about soiling his chinos.
“I’m mostly worried that they might be too much for you,” Shouta said after they were back on the road again. “I know you’re an introvert, and my parents, or namely my mom, can be a lot sometimes.”
“I think I’ll live. It’s only for a couple of days. We’re not moving in with them.”
“She’s probably going to ask you some personal questions, too.”
“Such as?”
“Things like where you went to school, whether I’m your first boyfriend, what your parents think of me, and so on. I told her they shouldn’t mention your past, but she might forget if she gets carried away.”
“Oh. But then it’s not my fault if some awkwardness ensues when I answer those questions.”
Ten minutes later, Shouta slowed the car and turned into the driveway of the two-story house. It was a rather ordinary house, a little rundown with white walls, brown window frames, a clay tile roof and a stone wall surrounding it on the sides.
Tenko resisted shoving his whole hand into his mouth and biting down. “We’re here?”
“Yes.” Shouta was already unbuckling his seat belt, so Tenko had no choice but to do the same, because it would give a pretty bad first impression if he refused to leave the car. Untangling himself from the belt, he waited for Shouta to open his door before following his example. He set his feet on the pavement carefully, mindful of any slipperiness. There hadn’t been any snowfall that winter, but they were in the middle of a cold spell and frost covered the bushes and tree branches.
“Can I carry the gift?”
“Of course. I assumed you’d do it since you were the one to pick it. I’ll get our bag.” Shouta circled behind the car and popped the truck open.
Tenko didn’t dare to peek towards the windows yet. “But does it look like I’m a lazy asshole who makes his boyfriend carry a heavy bag while he himself carries a little box of fruits?”
“No, it doesn’t. There’s only one bag and one box of fruits, and you are the guest, so you should be the one who hands over the gift.”
They took their stuff and were heading towards the front door when it swung open, and a middle-aged woman in a green apron stepped outside. She waved at them enthusiastically.
“Hello, welcome! You finally made it! Shouta! Come here, hon, it’s been ages!” She swooped him into a tight hug, and at that second, Tenko witnessed Shouta slipping into a new role, something he hadn’t seen before, and he would bet his game collection that not many people had. Suddenly, Shouta wasn’t a pro hero, he wasn’t a teacher, he wasn’t the stoic man Tenko had come to know very closely. As of this moment, he was somebody’s child.
“Hi, Mom,” Shouta muttered in his mother’s suffocating grip.
Another person appeared on the doorstep, a man with a short, greying beard and a sweater that had Santa Claus riding a dinosaur knitted in the front, which had to be one of the weirdest garments Tenko had ever seen. He didn’t hug Shouta like his mother did, instead batting his back with a stiff ‘Son’.
Shouta’s mom turned her eyes to Tenko. “And you must be Tenko.”
Tenko bit back ‘No, I’m the other ex-villain your son is dating’ and bent his spine into a respectful bow. “Yes, my name is Shimura Tenko. Nice to meet you, Aizawa-san. Here’s a little something for you.” He shot the box of fruits forward, still facing the ground.
She took the box from him with a surprised sound. “Oh, thank you, Tenko, that’s very kind of you! Welcome, it’s so nice to finally meet you. You can call me Sayuri.” She spread her arms invitingly, and after a small hesitation, Tenko stepped forward, succumbing to the fate of being hugged.
She motioned towards her husband, still resting her hand on Tenko’s shoulder. “This is Masato, Shouta’s father.”
Tenko dared to take a more careful look at the man in question. Masato-san resembled his son much more than Sayuri-san did. They had the same nose, jawline, the curve of lips and the same look in their dark eyes. Tenko could tell because he had spent a considerable amount of time staring at Shouta’s face. They were also almost the same height, although Masato-san stood slightly hunched and wasn’t in as good shape as his son. He had almost all of his hair, with only some thinning on his temples, so that hopefully meant Shouta got to keep his hair until old age, too. From his mother, Shouta had inherited his smile, and Tenko could already tell she liked showing it a lot more than her son.
Shouta’s father peered at Tenko’s artist gloves, but extended his hand. “Aizawa Masato.”
“Shimura Tenko, nice to meet you.”
The man grunted something that could have been an affirmative, his handshake swift and firm.
So, a quick profiling: Shouta’s mother was very mother-like and straightforward, warmly welcoming guests, whereas his father was much like his son, a quiet authority figure who took his time to warm up. It was fine, Tenko could work with that.
“Gosh, it’s freezing out here!” Sayuri-san exclaimed, only now noticing that her breath was coming out in white clouds. She opened the door wider and motioned towards the inside. “Come on in, boys.”
They removed their shoes in the genkan. Sayuri-san pointed them to a wardrobe where they could hang their coats and offered them slippers to wear. Tenko had gotten used to his apartment staying warm even during the coldest nights, so the old house felt quite chilly and he was glad for his thick cardigan.
Inside, the delicious aroma of shoyu broth and something sweet baking hung in the air. Tenko hoped it was an indication that the dinner wouldn’t consist of roasted cauliflower or grilled spinach. Despite it, he was nervous about whether he’d be able to eat everything. He absolutely didn’t want to offend Shouta’s parents, but his palate was somewhat oversensitive and certain foods made him gag.
“The dinner will be ready soon! Shouta, why don’t you show Tenko around the house meanwhile? You can take your bag to your room. You two sleep in the same room, do you?”
“Yeah, we do.”
She smirked. “Just making sure. Now, Shouta’s bed is quite narrow, but I have taken out spare futons so you can make a bed on the floor.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thank you, Sayuri-san.”
They headed directly to a staircase, but Tenko caught a glimpse of the downstairs, the living room and dining area. Shouta pointed out the bathroom and toilet for him. There was a second toilet upstairs, so if the need arose at night, they didn’t have to tiptoe all the way downstairs. The house looked superficially tidy but also lived-in. It was far from a picture of order: clothes were strewn on the chairs, drinking glasses had been left on the coffee table, a rug was crooked and the corners were dusty. Honestly, Tenko was happy the place looked like a home and not a fancy palace where he was afraid of leaving fingerprints on pristine marble surfaces.
They were halfway upstairs when Sayuri-san called after them. “Shouta! You can make the beds yourselves, can’t you? I would have rolled out the futons, but I wasn’t sure where you’d want them, or if one of you preferred to sleep on the bed after all, so I just left them beside the closet.”
“Yes, we can manage, Mom.”
“Good! Let me know if you need more blankets! I’ve put the extra heater in your room, but remember it can get quite chilly at night!”
The upstairs only had two rooms, Shouta’s and a study, which nowadays served as an escape for Masato-san when he wanted a moment of peace from his wife’s bustle.
Shouta’s room door was ajar, and Tenko felt as if he had stepped into a shrine. He even forgot to breathe for a moment. The room was a fairly typical teenager’s room but surprisingly bare: a bed, a desk, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, the extra heater, and that was it. There weren’t many personal items. On the bookshelf were a few books, a couple of photos and a trophy-looking cup. Tenko was a much worse hoarder than Shouta, if only given the chance. His computer and gaming system demanded that the apartment be arranged around them.
Leaning against the wardrobe were two thick, rolled-up futons. Sayuri-san had left the blankets, pillows and sheets on the bed.
“So,” Shouta began, talking in a subdued voice and looking at Tenko with a visible worry. “First impressions?”
“They seem nice! Your mom at least pretends to be happy to meet me. I’m not sure about your dad yet, but maybe time will tell.”
“You’re not planning to turn on your heels and run back?”
“No.” Tenko grinned. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat first. But hey, how am I doing?”
“You’re doing fine. You were polite and let mom hug you.” Shouta cracked a smile. “You’re so pretty, babe,” he whispered, his hands coming to rest on Tenko’s hip bones and mouth caressing a spot under Tenko’s ear, eliciting a shiver from him. “Didn’t think it was possible for you to get any prettier, yet here we are.”
Tenko experienced a very peculiar full-body flush. Sometimes still, he had a hard time believing Shouta found him physically attractive. After years of being told how ugly and repulsive he was and battling with his skin condition, it was difficult to change his self-image. They had started working on it while he was in rehab, but the feeling of looking like a corpse had stayed with him until one night Shouta had asked him to look him in the eye and told him to his face that he was pretty. And even then he had tried to argue at first, but his protests had died down when Shouta had shown him how much he wanted him.
“Stop, you’re making me hard and these pants hide nothing.” The stupid cardigan was too short to pull over his crotch.
Shouta smirked but removed his hands, taking a step towards the futon rolls. “Let’s get to work.”
They were in the middle of undoing the straps of the second futon when they heard the floorboards creaking. A little after, Shouta’s father appeared at the door.
Shouta straightened his back. “Dad, did you need something?”
He didn’t receive a reply. Masato-san simply sauntered in and stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking around the room as if he were seeing it for the first time.
Oh, oh! Tenko had seen memes of this; pictures and reels on Instagram! Apparently it was a Dad Thing. They would come into their children’s rooms for no particular reason, stand in the middle of the floor without saying a word, maybe glance at something in passing and then just leave without an explanation.
He had heard about it, but he had never experienced it, because neither AFO nor Kurogiri had done such meaningless things, and his actual father hadn’t bothered that much with his kids (besides Tenko’s memories of those times were very hazy). He was already thinking about what kind of social media post he could make out of it.
Yesterday, he had made a post on Instagram, sharing his upcoming New Year’s plans (after asking Shouta for permission to mention his parents) and explaining that this was a completely new experience for him. He had never been invited to anyone’s home for the holidays, let alone his possible future in-laws! His followers had requested updates during the visit, and Tenko planned to deliver, though he had to be careful not to show anything too revealing in the pictures. Maybe he could share one of those funny reels with a caption that he had already gained some XP from parental behaviour.
Shouta looked as helpless as Tenko felt, but then Sayuri-san’s voice carried up from downstairs.
“Masato, where are you? Stop pestering the boys and come help set the table!”
Shouta’s father gave the room one last look before taking his hands out of his pockets and turning to leave. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he said and left.
They waited until the creaking of the stairs had faded before Tenko dared to speak, “I hope he doesn’t do that at night.” He might not be able to stop flashbacks from crashing over him if he woke up to someone standing in the doorway, staring. Even though he had made some significant progress with his rehab, sudden nighttime scares could still make him lash out without warning.
“No, he’s a heavy sleeper. Besides, there’s a lock on the door.” Shouta shook his head to himself and got back to unrolling the futons.
“When you told me we were coming here, you forgot to mention your parents are like the old couple in The Visit.”
“What’s that? And I didn’t ‘tell’ you. I asked you if it would be okay if we spent New Year’s with my parents.”
“Yeah, after you had already promised them,” Tenko said with a small exhale. “That movie is funny, though. Creepy but funny. We should watch it once we get back home.”
There wasn’t much floor space in the room, and the futons covered almost all of it, but it gave off an excitingly cozy vibe, like they were building a pillow fortress. Tenko felt almost like a kid who was having his first sleepover at a friend’s home. Or rather, a person’s with whom he was having a sexual affair. They prepared the pillows and blankets, and the result looked so inviting that Tenko couldn’t wait to dive in.
“Boys, come on down! Dinner is served!”
He let out a sigh of relief in secret when he saw that the dinner was nabemoto. It would give him the freedom to choose what to put into his mouth.
Sayuri-san had removed her apron and was standing by the dinner table. Masato-san was already sitting and looking at the offerings of the table with visible interest.
“Did you get the beds done?”
“Yeah, we did.”
She nodded with approval. “Good. Now, let me take a proper look at you, Tenko.” With that, she grabbed Tenko by the arms and examined his face closely, her brows drawn together in evaluation. Tenko barely managed to suppress his alarm and not bat her hands away.
Shouta startled too and lifted his hands, ready to surge between them. “Mom, what the hell are you doing?”
Ignoring her son, she took hold of Tenko’s chin and turned his head from side to side as if appraising a show horse. Tenko almost expected her to look into his mouth as well. “My, you’re so handsome. Look at those eyelashes! And you even have a beauty mark on your chin. You’re lucky to have such a pretty face, sweetie!”
“Mom, stop that!”
She let go of Tenko and took a step back, frowning at her son. “What? He is handsome! Be polite to your boyfriend, Shouta, so he doesn’t leave you.”
Shouta rubbed the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut like he was in pain. “Mom, for Christ’s sake.”
“I… I have no intention of leaving him,” Tenko stammered, still completely caught off guard.
“Good! But he still needs to treat you right!”
“Mom, he has PTSD. You don’t just grab someone who has PTSD without a warning. Hell, you don’t grab anyone like that without a warning!”
“Tenko didn’t mind,” she said, unfazed. “And can’t doctors take care of that?”
“It’s not that simple.”
She tch’d, clearly thinking Shouta was exaggerating. “Well then, let’s sit down to eat, shall we?”
Still a little dazed from what had just happened, Tenko sat down next to Shouta, across from Shouta’s parents. He remembered his little project and pulled out his phone.
“Could I take a picture of the table before we start? I’m not including you guys, just the food.”
“Absolutely!” Everyone waited until he had snapped a couple of shots. He made sure the phone was on mute before shoving it back into his pocket.
Sayuri-san pointed at his hands. “You’re wearing gloves to the table?”
“Sorry, I have to. My quirk is quite… uncontrollable.”
“It’s perfectly alright, hon. I was just curious.” She offered Tenko a soothing smile. Shouta squeezed his thigh under the table.
Some of the ingredients were already simmering in the pot in the middle of the table. After a quick ‘Itadakimasu’, they began picking food onto their plates. Tenko took some pork, tofu, and shiitake mushrooms at first. Not wanting to seem too picky, he also fished out some bean sprouts he knew he could digest.
For the first few minutes at the table, only the clinking of dishes and the bubbling of the hot broth could be heard. Then Sayuri-san decided to try to make some conversation.
“So, Tenko, your family didn’t mind that you wanted to spend New Year’s here?”
“Mom,” Shouta hissed.
“My family is dead,” Tenko said blankly, dipping a piece of tofu in a sesame sauce and popping it into his mouth. Oh wow, it was good! He fished out another piece and rolled it thoroughly in the sauce before biting into it.
“Oh my, so sorry to hear that, dear!”
“’s okay,” Tenko mumbled through a mouthful. He took a piece of pork next, saucing it in ponzu in turn. Damn, the food was so good.
“Mom, I told you about it.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I remember you telling me about his parents, but I didn’t know his whole family was dead.”
“If I have some living relatives, I don’t know about them,” Tenko explained. He realized he was eating faster than the rest of them and willed himself to slow down.
“Could we talk about something else?” Shouta asked, directing his words to his mom.
“Of course we can. So, what do you do, Tenko? I mean, are you working or studying or–?”
“Mom, for god’s sake!”
“I’m still under house arrest, not allowed to work. But I’m kinda trying my wings on being a social media influencer.”
“Oh, you young people these days!” She laughed jovially and elbowed Masato-san, who was clearly pretending he wasn’t part of their table. “I can’t keep up with all these strange new jobs of yours! I do hope it’s working out for you.”
Yep, you’ll end up being featured in it, too.
“It’s been picking up pretty good so…” Tenko shrugged with one shoulder and tried the mushrooms next. While they weren’t his favourite food, cooked just right and dipped in sesame sauce they tasted alright.
“You like the food, hon?”
“It’s amazing.” Fuck the courtesy, he grabbed a bunch of thinly sliced beef and lowered them into the pot where they cooked in seconds. He did put two of them onto Shouta’s plate after digging them out.
“I’m glad to hear that, dear! Shouta told me you have some food restrictions, so I thought it was best to serve something that allows you to pick your own plate. But I’ll be making grilled fish and tamagoyaki for breakfast. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
The rest of the meal passed without any awkward questions. Sayuri-san mentioned to Shouta that the neighbours had bought a yacht and were eagerly waiting for spring to take it out for a spin. After that, she and Masato-san argued over whether the boat had really been as expensive as it seemed for the brief moment it had sat in the neighbour’s driveway. Then Masato-san asked Shouta which route they had taken to drive there, and Shouta answered with ‘the usual route’, which wasn’t enough for his dad. For some reason, he wanted to know the exact roads and streets they had taken. Another Dad Thing, Tenko supposed.
An hour later, when they were wrapping up the dinner, Tenko was so full that he swayed a little when standing up. He barely managed to hold back a burp. Shouta’s father was less discreet, letting out a contented belch that was barely drowned out by the scraping of the chair legs against the floor.
“Shouta, why don’t you show Tenko the backyard while I prepare us some tea and cake? You like tea and cake, don’t you, Tenko?”
“I do. Can we, uh, could we help you?” Tenko asked, still trying to maintain his polite guest demeanour. It didn’t come naturally to him, and it was somewhat tiring, but he was determined to push through.
“No need, sweetie! Thanks for the offer, but the kitchen is my territory. I like doing things my own way and prefer others staying out.”
Shouta placed a gentle hand on Tenko’s back and guided him towards the genkan to get their shoes and coats.
“I can’t believe my son managed to get himself such a cute boyfriend!” they heard Sayuri-san chattering. “Isn’t it amazing, Masato? Just wait until your sister sees him, she’ll go bonkers!”
Tenko waited until they were in the backyard and the door was closed before talking in a subdued voice, “Do they, like, not trust your abilities to get partners or what?” Shouta’s parents needed a reality check. Their son was an absolute catch, and it was Tenko who should have constantly been amazed by his luck.
“I think they had given up. I’m their only child, and they had to wait for over thirty years before I introduced them to my first partner. Honestly, they would be over the moon even if you were a garden gnome. Not to downplay your charm at all, of course.” He cracked a little smile. “I’m sorry she treated you like a show poodle and asked you all those awkward questions. I swear I told them not to ask about it, but apparently she didn’t listen to me.”
“It’s really fine.” It was heaps better than if they were giving him a cold shoulder or plotting his murder. “I do have to admit your mom is…” Tenko searched for the correct word. “Intense.”
Shouta wiped his face before letting his hand drop. “Tell me about it.”
“She probably thought you said I have an STD.”
“She doesn’t know what that means either. She’s still riding that initial high of meeting her son’s first-ever boyfriend. It’ll wear off. By tomorrow evening she’ll be much calmer.”
Tenko certainly hoped so, even though the crazier the visit, the better social media posts it would make.
He buried his hands in his coat’s pockets and dug his chin behind the collar. The cold was quickly invading his body. “Okay, so, you were supposed to show me the yard. What’s there to see?”
Shouta shrugged. “I really don’t know. It’s an ordinary yard, and since it’s in the middle of winter, there’s not much to see in the plantings. My father does a bit of crafting in the shed occasionally. Last spring, he made an insect hotel. He also built Eri a small stool, which we then painted together.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
That was when Shouta’s father appeared beside them. Apparently, he had sensed an opportunity to interact with them.
“Dad, where did you put the insect hotel?” Shouta asked.
Masato-san pointed towards a small wooden construction at the end of the yard. “There it is, hanging on the shed wall.” He started walking towards it, with Shouta and Tenko following.
The shed was small, dusty and very dim, even with the small bulb hanging from the ceiling. It had a damp smell of old wood and soil.
“I do a bit of woodworking,” Masato-san said, his hand swinging in a vague direction. “Mostly small things like birdhouses. You’re welcome to take a look.”
He pointed out several items, from several different kinds of birdhouses to a spice rack and a napkin holder. It likely was his way of trying to connect with Tenko and be hospitable. Keeping that in mind, Tenko examined each item carefully and conscientiously, trying to think of something nice to say about them. He also asked if he could take pictures (for his social media post). The items weren’t half bad, definitely better than he would have made, even though they had had a crafts workshop back in rehab. He hoped he succeeded in saying the right things, judging by how pleased Masato-san looked, at least if he was reading the subtle movements of his facial muscles correctly. Shouta had inched beside him and put his hand on the small of Tenko’s back, stroking it approvingly.
After that, Shouta proceeded to show Tenko their tsukubai, while Masato-san went to stand by the fence and talk to someone, apparently a neighbour.
“We’re not gonna say hello to the neighbour?” Tenko asked Shouta as they hid behind the shed.
“Not right now. I can sense you getting overwhelmed as it is.” He slipped an arm around Tenko’s waist, encouraging him to lean against his side. Tenko happily complied, enjoying the warmth radiating from Shouta even through many layers of clothes. “You’re doing so good, love. I’m so proud of you.” Shouta pressed a kiss to the top of his head, taking the chance to breathe in the scent of his hair.
“I’m fine, really,” he insisted, but Shouta was right. Meeting two new people was enough for now. Interacting with strangers didn’t come naturally to him, and he had to exert himself to keep up appearances and act in a way people deemed normal. Besides, Shouta was too nice to say it out loud, but maybe the neighbours weren’t ready to see a former villain hanging around next door, despite the fact that if they watched the news, they had to know about the relationship their neighbours’ son had.
“Boys, you alright in there? Come on in, tea is ready!”
“We’re coming, Mom.”
“I can’t get over someone calling you a ‘boy,’” Tenko said with a grin, nudging Shouta’s shoulder as they walked back to the house.
Sayuri-san had set the table and was wiping her hands on her apron when they stepped in. “Shouta, where did your father go?” Her head spun around. “Masato, where are you?”
“He’s in the backyard.”
She frowned. “Why the heck is he outside?” She marched to the patio door and hollered, “Masato! Get back inside! What on Earth are you doing?”
Tenko was already learning that in this house things were often done more noisily than was necessary. It was really strange to think that Shouta had grown up in such a noisy and restless environment and yet he valued peace and quiet. Or perhaps he valued it precisely because of that. Tenko knew he would have.
“I’m talking with Sawada-kun!” Masato-san shouted back.
“Stop bothering the neighbours and come inside, we’re having tea and cake now!”
The cake was strawberry matcha, and it was the tastiest, fluffiest cake Tenko had ever eaten. He wolfed down his portion and barely managed to keep his hands to himself until Sayuri-san asked if he’d like a second slice.
After refilling Tenko’s plate, she furrowed her brows at her son. “Shouta, why did you tell me your boyfriend is picky?”
“Because he is. But it mainly manifests itself with vegetables.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Tenko admitted.
“Oh. Well, just tell me if there’s something you can’t eat, Tenko. It’s not a problem!”
“I will. Thanks, Sayuri-san.”
Shouta and Tenko volunteered to clean the table. They didn’t have to do the dishes since the Aizawas had a dishwasher, but they loaded it and turned it on. Then everyone settled down in the living room, ate fruits from the gift box and watched Home Alone 2 (after Shouta had argued with his parents about the proper volume). Technically, it was a Christmas movie, but it worked well as New Year’s entertainment, too, and was less awkward than having a conversation could have been. Tenko dared to lean against Shouta, and Shouta draped his arm around his shoulders. Sayuri-san looked at them with a fond smile, clutching her hands to her chest. Masato-san dozed off mid-movie. It was all very pleasant and domestic. After the ending credits, it was already time for a quick shower and bed.
“Good night, boys! You sleep as long as you like in the morning!” she chirped when they were climbing upstairs.
“She says that, but she’ll come knocking on the door if we aren’t up and about by eight,” Shouta told Tenko in a hushed voice.
“But why? What for?”
“Because parents seem to have this built-in feature that makes them disturb their children’s peace on mornings off.”
Tenko had always thought those Instagram reels about noisy, intrusive parents doing chores at 7 a.m. were exaggerated, but now it was starting to feel like they might actually be true.
Shouta closed the door behind them and locked it. They changed into nightwear and settled on their beds. At home they often slept without a stitch on, but despite the heater, the room was cold. Shouta turned off a bedside lamp he had placed next to his pillow on the floor, and darkness fell into the room.
Tenko pulled the blanket up to his chin. It was thick and would probably be warm enough with the clothes and the heater. Faint sounds came from downstairs for a few minutes, and then everything fell completely silent. Not even traffic noise carried in from outside, despite them being in the suburbs. He slipped his hand under Shouta’s blanket and fumbled around until he found his fingers. Shouta wrapped his own fingers around them.
“It was a good first day. They both like you.”
“Really? Even your dad?”
“Yeah, he’s a bit hard to read at first. He has two default expressions that are difficult to tell apart unless you know him, but the fact that he’s trying to communicate with you says a lot. This is all new to him, and he isn’t quite sure what to say or do.”
Tenko was relieved to hear that. Honestly, he was dreading a moment when he might end up alone with Masato-san, and neither of them would know what to say.
He sighed. “Not only did they have to come to terms with the fact that their son is dating an ex-villain, but the person in question also happens to be a man, and they had to say goodbye to any dreams of grandchildren.”
“I’ve already told them that the only grandchild they’re going to get is a cat,” Shouta said, stroking Tenko’s knuckles with his thumb. “I’m getting my fair share of kids at work, and I get to be Eri’s step-uncle. That’s quite enough for me. I like my scarce free time as it is.” He peered at Tenko through the darkness. “What about you? Would you like to have kids one day?”
“Only if the kid is a furry one.” He snorted after realizing his choice of words. “I mean a dog or a cat! Not a human child who is a furry! Or, I mean, if they wanted to be, it’s okay, I guess. Or they could have an animal-based quirk, I’m not discriminating. But I mean, it’s a hard pass on kids regardless their quirk.”
Shouta chuckled. “You’re young. You could still change your mind.”
Tenko clicked his tongue in disapproval. “What, you think I’m just gonna leave you so I can knock up some chick? How non-gay do you take me for?”
“You could start talking about adoption or a surrogate mother.”
“So could you.”
“I don’t think so. I’m happy with the way things are.” Shouta fell quiet, staring at the ceiling. “I really wouldn’t mind a cat, though.”
“Me neither,” Tenko heard himself say. “But maybe we should wait until things are more stable with my situation?”
“Absolutely.” Shouta threw an arm over his forehead and let out a deep sigh. “Let’s get some sleep. Our hosts have a tendency to start clattering and stomping around the house before eight.”
“In a minute.” Tenko turned onto his stomach and picked up his phone. The screen’s light was blinding in the dark room, so he quickly dimmed it.
Shouta lifted his arm, squinting at him. “What are you doing?”
“My first post in the ‘Visiting my boyfriend’s parents’ series.”