Chapter Text
Hitoshi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Probably not that Aizawa was going to fucking propose to him, though it is an elegant solution to the question of where Hitoshi’s sense of security will come from now he’s kicking the commission out of his life once and for all.
Sure, Hitoshi knows that he shouldn’t need that security, but recently he’s been made very aware that the circumstances of his teenage years have left him pretty fucking isolated for most twenty year-olds, so it’s not wrong for him to want a little bit of insurance. Something stable to hang onto, or someone. And yeah, maybe it’s fucking crazy that Aizawa, or Shouta he should really start to call him, actually wants to get married and had a fucking engagement ring all ready to give to Hitoshi the second the subject came up… as in, when he brought it up.
Sure, they’ve only been together for a week, and together for less than a day, but if Hitoshi was going to pick one person in the history of everyone he’s ever known to depend on, someone he can truly trust, and is ready to make a commitment to that could potentially last a lifetime, it’d still be Aizawa. It’s always been Aizawa.
Plus, the man fucks like a goddam monster, and if Hitoshi’s going to choose someone to potentially have sex with exclusively for potentially the rest of his life, it’s someone like that. Hitoshi can barely feel his fucking legs, not that it stops him crawling back into Shouta’s lap to seal the deal with kiss when he’s slid the ring onto his finger and thinking oh shit this is really happening and he gets to be engaged to someone he’s admired since he was fifteen, albeit from a lot of distance and imagination over the years they were apart.
But now they’re not apart, and getting married would be a great way to make sure they don’t ever have to be if they don’t want to. The ring Shouta chose is a fucking infinity knot, how much more on the nose does it have to be?
Shouta’s arm curls around Hitoshi’s waist, his head tilting with his opening lips for his tongue to resume playful interaction with Hitoshi’s as their ‘newly engaged’ kiss shifts into newly engaged deep making out. Shouta’s as close to a perfect man as Hitoshi thinks can exist, why the fuck would he not want to get hitched to that?
Besides, if it doesn’t work out it doesn’t work out, and there’s nothing that’d stop them undoing something pretty easily done. Not that Hitoshi’s worried about anything like that since they only just got engaged and that’s something to celebrate in more or less the same way as the whole engagement came about.
They have literally spent the entire night and morning fucking non-stop, a fact Hitoshi’s hips and ass and muscles all over his body are keen to remind him of, but the amount his libido cares about this is not at all. Breaking apart to look at each other with fluttering eyelashes, bodies still entwined, Shouta’s voice is soft and husky as he murmurs, “Think we can still…?”
Hitoshi moves his hand to rest against Shouta’s cheek, his left hand, so he can admire the beautiful ring on his finger next to the man who gave it to him. Shouta hasn’t confirmed it, but Hitoshi thinks the band must be white gold, or maybe platinum. Amethyst might not be the diamond of the jewel world, but it is very much his colour, and the sentiment is worth far more than the price tag in this case. Bit of a turnaround for Hitoshi, but so is turning his back on his career to date and deciding to accept a proposal from a guy he’s crazy about. The past day has brought a lot of big changes in Hitoshi’s life, but in a way he wants and feels ready for after a long time of living in habits that were just about surviving instead of thriving. This is just one more in a series of long overdue life decisions.
“Only one way to find out,” Hitoshi replies just as softly, dipping in to kiss Shouta again. Needily clinging to Shouta in his lap doesn’t make moving around very easy, but they’re both naked to begin with so that helps, and the dwindling supply of lube and condoms within arm’s reach does the rest of the work.
It’s ridiculous, really, to clumsily shuffle and shift around just so Hitoshi doesn’t have to get out of Shouta’s lap so much as briefly lift himself out of it only to sink back down on Shouta’s ready and waiting cock instead, hard in a fresh condom and covered generously in lube to try and accommodate for the sensitivity of repeated friction. Sensitivity that means very little feels like a lot, so just feeling Shouta’s cock pushing back into him makes Hitoshi moan and dig his nails into those muscular shoulders.
Shouta nuzzles Hitoshi’s mouth back onto his, swallowing the sounds with another famished kiss. His hands settle firmly around Hitoshi’s ass to move him in Shouta’s lap, but it’s more of a grind than a bounce, which is about all their bodies seem prepared to take at this point. It’s primal and rhythmic, hurting just the right amount as Hitoshi drags his nails across Shouta’s back and feels him groaning and his cock throbbing inside Hitoshi. Shouta’s covered Hitoshi in marks from his mouth and fingers all over Hitoshi’s neck and chest and hips and thighs, so it’s only fair Hitoshi gets to mark him up in return.
Without a shave recently, Shouta’s stubble grazes Hitoshi’s skin, tickling on his neck as Shouta returns to the love bites he’s already left to suckle more softly as Hitoshi rocks in his lap. When he’s not clawing his fingernails across Shouta’s back, Hitoshi brings his left hand back between them, because he absolutely is not ready to stop looking at the ring on his finger and thinking about what it means while Shouta’s cock is buried inside him. The gem is set in the middle of the loop of the infinity knot band, signifying too much to put into words, but this much in essence: they won’t allow each other to slip away again.
Hitoshi teases his fingertips across Shouta’s mouth, dragging lightly at his lower lip as they look right at one another while Hitoshi angles his hips forward and arches his back, starting to bounce a little more as the pleasure of fucking overrides the discomfort of fucking this much in such a small space of time.
When Shouta opens his mouth it only seems to make sense that Hitoshi lets his middle two fingers slip inside. Index finger and thumb splaying across Shouta’s jaw while his tongue coasts past Hitoshi’s knuckles until it reaches that band of metal around his finger. Shouta’s mouth tightens to a seal so he can properly suck with the engagement ring right between his lips, and it’s a good thing they’re already having sex because there’s nothing else that’d be close or intimate enough to rival this gesture otherwise.
Hitoshi starts moving more assertively on his own, rolling himself against Shouta to create all the right and best pressure within him. Soaks in the sight of Shouta’s face so close and vulnerable, those rich dark desire-clouded eyes and the sparkling ring denting his lips where he’s all but taken it into his mouth. When Hitoshi withdraws his hand the fingers are slick and soaked, which helps when he drops them to his cock to stroke himself in time with his movement on Shouta’s cock. His ring looks good down there too. Wrapped around his cock. Might look even better around Aizawa’s if he ever stops putting it in Hitoshi's ass to try out.
It builds fast, everything too raw and tender not to respond with alarming speed and intensity. Shouta takes a firmer grip of Hitoshi's ass to hold him up higher and shifts his legs to straighten out more behind Hitoshi, giving him the ability to start thrusting up harder. Shouta’s core strength is off the fucking charts, Hitoshi has the ability to recognise as the haze of ever-more climax enfolds him.
“I… I think I…” Hitoshi starts to babble, fucking his hand while Shouta’s fucking him, and he would’ve kept going if Shouta hadn’t interrupted.
“You can come,” he pants, gruff and animal like he’s hanging quite a lot of his own enjoyment on the thought that Hitoshi’s about to get off too. Especially when he adds, “Come for me, Hitoshi,” as selfishly and possessively as Hitoshi needs to feel from him to jerk suddenly into climax, fucking himself desperately on Shouta’s cock as a pathetic amount of come rolls from the slit of his own twitching cock down his fingers.
It’s wonderful, as it has been the last four or five times, and Hitoshi goes completely limp after, flopping over Shouta’s shoulder like a ragdoll while Shouta holds him steady and keeps thrusting into him, mouthing along Hitoshi’s jaw to reach his mouth and seeking out a kiss as he follows suit in the throbbing orgasm category.
The truth that Hitoshi doesn’t reveal in that moment, or any moment immediately prior, is that he hadn’t been trying to say he thought he was going to come. No, if Hitoshi had kept going, he’s almost certain that the words he was reaching for were, ‘I think I love you.’ He just agreed to fucking marry Shouta, so yeah, but it’s not like they’ve actually said it.
Taking a few breaths to recover from all that with their faces buried in each other’s shoulders, Shouta’s the one who offers to break the silence with the remark, “I think that might need to be the last round for a while.”
“Mmm,” Hitoshi agrees groggily, still sitting snugly on Shouta’s cock because the separation process is going to smart. “I’m surprised we made it this far.”
It’s a simple gesture, but Hitoshi’s whole body shivers when Shouta strokes a palm from the base of Hitoshi’s back up to his shoulder, tracing the curve of his spine. There’s a teasing hint in his voice as he says, “I tried to warn you.”
Laughing breathily, Hitoshi flexes back and props himself up on his arms, legs still loosely wrapped around Shouta’s waist, to begin easing himself off. Post-orgasm, all that chafing and ‘you need to stop fucking each other’ rawness is no longer pleasurable as well as painful, so they both grit their teeth and hiss a little as they come apart for the last time in at least a while. Hitoshi’s ass can take a lot of pounding, but even his limit was reached in the shower or earlier, and they just kept going anyway. What were they supposed to do after getting engaged? Not fuck?
“I thought it was me you got warned about?” Hitoshi responds as he carefully settles himself down on the futon, flopping out to rest on his back since his ass will not appreciate being sat on right now.
Positioned close to each other, one of Shouta’s ever-roaming hands comes up to Hitoshi’s hair to brush through fondly. “That too.”
“I think there’s an irony in there somewhere,” Hitoshi replies with a golden syrup trickle, rolling into the petting touch and shuffling carefully as Shouta lies back to rest over his chest, “but I’m too fucked-out to see it.”
“Yeah,” Shouta grunts, curling his fingers at the base of Hitoshi’s skull like he’s tickling a fucking cat. Not that Hitoshi dislikes it; it feels great.
“So when’s the wedding?” Hitoshi sighs as he lets his eyes drift shut, not to go back to sleep, but just to bask in the aftermath a little bit.
“Hm?” Shouta barely makes any sound at all, though his fingers still move lazily through Hitoshi’s hairline.
“What is it we can get again? Some kind of certificate?” Hitoshi mumbles, eyes still closed, not sure why he’s decided they need to talk about this right now except that he feels like it.
“Partnership certificate,” Shouta answers easily, sounding happy and peaceful, as well he should. His tone is even and natural, perfectly ordinary as he continues, “If I made a few calls we could probably do it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Hitoshi echoes, opening his eyes with a rush of adrenaline and tilting with his face pressed against Shouta’s chest to look up at him. “You want to do it tomorrow?”
“No, I mean–” Shouta fumbles as he wakes up a bit more. Hitoshi’s starting to realise what a disaster he is when it comes to saying incredibly forward things at the slightest provocation, and it’s endearing really. Hitoshi was almost ready to say he loved him five minutes ago, so he’s not one to judge. “Just that it could be as quick as that, not that we would.”
“Could we though?” Hitoshi replies thoughtfully. “You actually think it’s possible?”
“Uh, ah… I do,” Shouta confesses stiffly. “There are favours I could call in to make something like that happen quickly.”
“You really are keen,” Hitoshi teases, waiting for the flush in Shouta’s face and quick denial of what’s absolutely evidently true.
“No, I just… it doesn’t have to be so soon, I didn’t really…”
“You weren’t going to propose either, but you did anyway,” Hitoshi points out with a smile. “Why only half-ass it? You wanna get married tomorrow?” It’d certainly help cement Hitoshi’s separation from the commission, and if he’s ready to get hitched now, why wait?
Shouta stares at Hitoshi like the most wonderful and surprising creature he’s ever met, and Hitoshi loves that feeling. The pleasure of shocking Shouta by being willing to meet him at the forefront of his way too serious too fast dreams, because Hitoshi’s not afraid of anything that would make him unsure about doing this. It’s the same way he felt indulging Shouta’s talk of marriage in the first place, just to see what that looked like in his head, until they were accidentally-on-purpose engaged, and now setting the date to get married for as soon as humanly possible; as if it’s right, and as long as they both feel that way there’s nothing that can stand in their way.
“Yes,” Shouta answers, because it’s no more complicated than that. His palm flattens to cradle the back of Hitoshi’s head, holding him even closer than he already is. “I’d want to.”
“Okay,” Hitoshi declares as he springs up and over to rest on Shouta’s front, lying on his chest to look him directly in the face. “So let’s do it.”
When he’s overwhelmed Shouta speaks less, Hitoshi’s starting to notice, because he nods quietly and coaxes Hitoshi up to kiss him, and it’s too bad they’re so exhausted they can’t celebrate setting the date with another round, though Hitoshi supposes this would make tomorrow their wedding night, and if that’s not an appealing prospect he doesn’t know what is.
Speaking of appealing prospects, a pursued thought turns into the question once the kiss draws to a close, “Can I take your name?”
“What?” Shouta replies tentatively, cradling Hitoshi’s mouth over his like he’s still thinking about more kisses. He probably is.
“I should really, shouldn’t I?” Hitoshi remarks. “It’d break with my record at the commission too, start out as an independent under a new name.” Aizawa’s name. Hitoshi feels like his insides are all alight, glittering and golden as he tries out, “Aizawa Hitoshi. It’s got a good sound, right?”
Shouta steals a kiss that’s like a brand new proposal all over again. It’s that loving and desperate, like a heartfelt confession by way of lip and tongue on tongue. They part with only a sliver of space between them, sharing warm breath and sharp desire as he whispers, “I’d love that,” and then kisses Hitoshi one more time.
Maybe it’s crazy, Hitoshi’s prepared to admit, but so’s the rest of his life been until this point.
They finish their coffee in blissful, what the fuck we’re actually getting married peace, and cuddle while Hitoshi starts thinking out loud about the arrangements.
“Arrangements?” Shouta echoes curiously, which is ridiculous for a man as prepared to get married as he is.
“Uh, yeah,” Hitoshi replies obviously. “The party, the cake, the dress.”
Hitoshi swears, he feels the breath Shouta takes with the last word.
“Dress?” he says very quietly, though Hitoshi can hear his heart racing from where he rests against Shouta’s hair-scattered chest.
“You’re not expecting me to marry you without a wedding dress, are you?” Hitoshi accuses, because the nerve.
“No,” Shouta replies very very quickly. “Of course not.”
“I mean, doing it tomorrow means it’ll have to be off the rack, and we don’t really have time to sort out wedding kimonos, but that’ll be fine,” Hitoshi decides as he’s saying it.
“Would you rather wear a kimono?” Shouta asks with total sincerity, as if there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if Hitoshi wanted it.
“Not really, I like the Western style dresses too,” Hitoshi insists. It’s more about getting married than what he’s wearing doing it, not that he’ll stand for looking anything less than stunning, which is a purpose as easily achieved in one type of wedding dress as a kimono. Plus, a Western dress can be much more revealing, which is always a plus in Hitoshi’s book. “Why don’t you handle all the registration and certificates and shit, and I’ll do all the fun stuff?”
Shouta looks like he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he’s grateful for it all the same. “Uh… okay.”
“You look like you got hit with a bomb, Shouta,” Hitoshi comments boldly, excited by the way he sounds addressing his straight up husband-to-be. “This is what you wanted, right?”
“Yes,” Shouta gets out fast again. “I just… it’s not something I ever thought would actually happen, so I’m still… processing.”
“This was all your idea,” Hitoshi points out wryly. “You better not be getting cold feet.”
“Never," Shouta denies urgently, squeezing Hitoshi in his arms. “Just getting up to speed.”
Hitoshi teasingly walks his fingers across Shouta’s chest, the hair that stretches across his pecs surprisingly soft. “I thought you didn't know how to slow down?”
Shouta softly jostles Hitoshi against him, getting ever more comfortable with the fit of their naked bodies together. “I thought I didn't.”
Hitoshi quirks his head in delight and asks, “Are you saying you've met your match in me?”
“I'd have thought that was obvious,” Shouta replies, moving his hand to rest just a couple of fingers underneath Hitoshi’s jaw, as if balancing his whole face on two fingertips to admire.
It’s a small movement, but easily felt, when he guides Hitoshi back over to him, coasting down like a bird coming into land as their mouths meet again in a luxurious, ambling kiss. Hitoshi drags himself further over Shouta, head tilting so they can kiss deeper, treating Shouta like a mattress to lie on. Mattresses don’t make grabs for Hitoshi’s ass, to be fair, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Shouta squeezes him greedily, kisses spilling into each other like cascading foam from a waterfall, until there’s a stirring between them and Shouta suddenly switches his grip to Hitoshi’s arms to lift him away.
“No,” Shouta declares, low-lidded eyes and that look in those dark, dilated pupils. “We have to stop.”
Wriggling again to straddle him properly, Hitoshi pushes past Shouta’s insignificant resistance to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and points out, “Didn’t stop you before.” Or before that, or before and before and before either.
Turning in to steal one more kiss from Hitoshi’s lips, Shouta pushes him more seriously after that, peeling them apart like a damp sticker from a cold bottle of beer in a hot room. “The tank is empty, Hitoshi,” he declares definitively, and Hitoshi can’t help but laugh.
“The tank, eh?” Hitoshi replies with a waggle of his eyebrows. “That’s what you call them?”
Shouta keeps urging Hitoshi away from him as he sits up, making moves like he’s actually thinking of going somewhere other than the bed. “You know what I mean,” he murmurs as he drags himself over to his bag at the foot of the bed, rummaging for fresh underwear and clothes. The view of his ass from here is great too, chiselled and muscular like every other fucking part of him. Hitoshi could eat off it. Hitoshi could eat it, even.
“Oh I surely do,” Hitoshi remarks, rolling onto his side so he can sprawl again more comfortably and enjoy the view. “So now what?”
“Let’s get breakfast,” Shouta says as he shifts and starts dragging boxers up his legs. They’ve worked up quite the appetite.
“Are you suggesting we leave the apartment to stop us from fucking any more?” he announces casually, not moving anywhere in a hurry, and Shouta casts a look back at him.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he confirms, before his eyes flick up to the wardrobe. “So put on something cute and let’s go.”
Feigning outrage, Hitoshi tells him, “Everything I own is cute.”
“Exactly,” Shouta admits, and Hitoshi supposes they are risks to their own health if they stay here naked any longer. His aching body and asshole will thank him for it, he supposes.
Getting stiffly to his feet, Hitoshi takes the short step over to the wardrobe to flick through contemplatively. “You want me boy or girl?” It’s not a question Hitoshi usually asks anyone, certainly not someone he’s sleeping with, because typically their preference on that is something he already knows, but he’s not sure Shouta has a preference. Hitoshi is his preference.
This is all but validated by the loving way Shouta replies, “Whatever you want,” while Hitoshi’s perusing for inspiration.
Hitoshi stops on a t-shirt so long it as good as counts as a dress, and some patterned leggings that he knows make his ass look great– what’s he saying? His ass always looks great. Pulling them out to pose together, a deliberate colour and pattern clash that comes off intentional as long as he wears it with enough confidence, he articulates, “Bit of both?” With a cute belt to cinch his waist in the t-shirt-or-is-it-a-dress, Hitoshi feels like he’ll tightrope walk that boy-or-girl line perfectly, which feels right after being so deliciously in touch with his body these past hours. Like a true expression of what he is, which is anything he damn-well wants to be, and that’s better than fine. It’s great.
Shouta’s smile is no dramatic thing, sometimes seeming lost on the rest of his serious can’t-switch-off face, but not right now. Now it’s the perfect compliment to a wonderful night and morning together, and a commitment they’ve made to each other that Hitoshi couldn’t have hoped for in his wildest dreams. The gentle crescent of his lips between coarse stubble that compliments his barely winced, smiling eyes.
With as good as pure unadulterated adoration soaked through every aspect of him, from the way he looks at Hitoshi to the warm tones of his voice, Shouta says the only thing he needs to sum this whole thing up in one word.
“Perfect.”