Chapter Text
Aizawa’s glad that Hitoshi seems to be alright this morning, because he did not plan on any of that happening the way it did last night. The insane escalation of events that’s more or less equivalent to throwing a Hizashi can of gasoline on the Aizawa Shouta neverending trashfire, as Hizashi would probably say.
It was admittedly a bit of a relief that Hitoshi was just hungover, and not upset or having second thoughts about anything. Aizawa’s either still a little bit drunk or very hungover himself, so despite Hizashi’s best industrial engine impression, he goes back to bed with his best friend and manages to pass out for a little bit longer. He’s shared so many beds and sleeping arrangements with Hizashi over the years that he’s cultivated a special ability to use his snoring like white noise and almost let it guide him back to sleep. Almost.
The room is cooler again when he wakes up next, which is a relief. Hitoshi must have switched the a/c on before he left, for which Aizawa is very grateful.
Less grateful is his sleeping companion.
“What the fuck?” are Hizashi’s first words of the morning. He’s lying on his back, looking over the empty bed between them at Aizawa, and his morning wood is more of a morning forest. “Where’s Hitoshi?”
“Went back to sleep more,” Aizawa answers, adding the explanation, “He’s got another apartment across from this one where he’s actually been living.”
“Oh,” Hizashi sounds disappointed, and who can blame him. Morning sex with Hitoshi is a paticular delight, and Aizawa’s only had one morning’s worth of it to speak for. “So I’m stuck with you?”
“Fraid so,” Aizawa drawls, sighing deeply, and realising belatedly that Hitoshi left here wearing Aizawa’s shirt, which is going to make things awkward, since he certainly can’t wear any of Hitoshi’s clothes in response. The torn leopard print jumpsuit is on the floor around the bed along with the rest of their hastily shed clothes. It was a lot of fun, Aizawa can admit, although it always is.
“Well fuck,” Hizashi remarks, stretching, and his cock bobs suggestively.
“You want any help with that?” Aizawa offers first, instinct driven by the sight alone, and considers second that maybe he shouldn’t. Sure, they did all just do a lot of sexual stuff together for most of the night, but Hitoshi isn’t here now and Aizawa forgot to check how things like that might work. It’s not like he’d do it for anyone else, just the sole consistent exception of Hizashi, who will bitch and moan all morning about being blue-balled if the animal isn’t satisfied. Offering to get him off is a logical way to pre-empt a bitchfit later that Aizawa’s too hungover to deal with.
“Na,” Hizashi answers though, taking away the conundrum, and Aizawa drags himself upright with the view of taking a shower. His face feels a lot more crusty than it should, and no wonder Hitoshi didn’t want to kiss him on the mouth this morning. “I’ll save it for later.”
“Later?” Aizawa queries aloofly, watching Hizashi wrap his hand around his cock and start to pump it casually. It’s probably weird to be in a room with his best friend masturbating in front of him, but they did just share the same asshole, so it’s probably not that weird. “Nice definition of save, by the way.”
“Hey, I know where your mouth has been, Shouta,” Hizashi teases, still happily jerking himself off with smooth strokes and a big grin. “And don’t you act like this was just a one-time thing either. You know it was too good not to do again.”
“Hmm,” Aizawa grunts, because he’s not exactly wrong. “It was good.”
“It was great,” Hizashi chimes in response, jerking himself off even faster, probably reliving the moment he pounded Hitoshi’s ass full of Aizawa’s cock, because it does the fucking trick. Aizawa feels his own cock curiously coming to life in turn, and decides he ought to get into the shower before this whole thing gets out of hand. Out of Hizashi’s own hand, at least.
“I’m taking a shower,” Aizawa announces, leaving Hizashi to finish jacking off alone. This doesn’t stop his cock perking up in the shower, but Aizawa decides to actually save it, and just ignores his erection until it goes back down. This is almost exactly in line with his nerves about the dawning realisation of getting married today increase, which had been somehow detracted from by the hedonism of last night until about the second Aizawa set foot in the shower.
He’s getting fucking married, and spent the whole night double-teaming his finacé with his best friend. Well, it kinda makes sense, he has to admit. With this fiancé and this best friend it does.
“Leave the water running,” Hizashi announces before Aizawa realises he’s in the bathroom at all, and because this is Hitoshi’s hooker apartment primarily, there’s a nice supply of fresh towels to be grateful for. Aizawa steps out to grab one as he passes Hizashi stepping in. Knowing it’s coming but too hungover to stop it, Aizawa’s ready for the sharp crack and bolt of pain when Hizashi slaps his wet ass in passing, wrapping a towel around himself and going to the sink to brush his teeth.
Being a hooker apartment and all, Hitoshi also has a whole cup full of pre-packaged toothbrushes set up, along with mouthwash and plastic cups that Aizawa makes use of since he plans on kissing his fiancé-and-almost-spouse a good amount today, so this is the least he can do.
Aizawa pokes around the pitifully small kitchen, more of a single unit without any appliances to even speak of, and realises there’s not a grain of coffee in the place, which is no good. Hizashi’s still in the shower, and will be for a while knowing him, so Aizawa grabs his boxers, keeping a towel across his shoulders, and sneaks out of the window to climb up to the roof barefoot. He needs fresh clothes, coffee, and to kiss his fiancé, and all those things require him to be at the other apartment.
He gets the smell first when he’s at the edge of the other apartment building, after carefully crossing the scaffolding plank, which becomes stronger as he descends the ladder. It makes Aizawa’s heart swell when he gets down to the balcony to lay eyes on Hitoshi sitting there with wet hair, a towel around his shoulders to match Aizawa’s, and his favourite peach coloured robe, smoking a joint.
“Hello stranger,” Hitoshi drawls, warm as the morning sun dripping gold over this side of the street, bathing everything in light and casting shadows from the spiralling shapes of smoke from Hitoshi’s joint. Aizawa reaches out as Hitoshi holds it up, and takes it off him for a toke.
“Hi,” he responds briefly, more focused on dragging on the joint as he sits down in the other empty chair. “Nice hangover cure.”
“It does the trick,” Hitoshi remarks, smiling as Aizawa passes it back and tipping off ash in the ever-fuller ashtray. “Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes dear,” Aizawa says on a level more reflexive than deliberate; half a joke, and the rest something deeply buried within him finally being let out.
Hitoshi just smiles, lowering the joint as he leans over while Aizawa leans in for an indulgent morning kiss. It lingers lazily, barely a hint of tongues compared to several light presses of their lips together, and Aizawa’s blissful when they part again.
“How’s Hizashi?” Hitoshi asks as he’s sitting back, returning to the joint.
“Horny,” Aizawa replies concisely.
“Ah,” Hitoshi murmurs, lidded eyes hanging low, and Aizawa doesn’t miss the pillow he’s put on the chair underneath him. “Not sure I’m in a position to help with that right now.”
“I offered, but he said he wanted to save it for later.”
“Later, tch,” Hitoshi scoffs. “I hope he means next week.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Aizawa says with an implacable sense of guilt. “We went a bit overboard.”
“So did I,” Hitoshi points out indifferently, passing the joint back and watching Aizawa thoughtfully as he pulls on it. “What did you offer?”
“Hm?” Aizawa queries at first, then catches up and answers, “Just to blow him probably, but he didn’t fancy it.” Struck with a new wave of guilt, he checks, “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Me?” Hitoshi scoffs with a grin. “After you let me literally get fucked by him all night? No, I don’t mind.” After a moment’s pause he adds, “Not with him, anyway.”
“Good,” Aizawa says, relieved, and it’s not like he and Hizashi are… romantic, at all. Hizashi doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body, by his own admission. They’re just comfortable enough with each other to make some stuff not seem like a big deal, like the occasional blowjob between best friends.
“Full disclosure, I’d rather you let me watch,” Hitoshi teases, taking the joint back and pausing awhile to drag on it, exhaling the fragrant smoke. The mood turns thoughtful, it not seeming out of place at all when the next thing Aizawa’s gorgeous fiancé comes out with is, “So, we’re getting married today.”
“Yeah,” Aizawa agrees, his excitement tempered with the hangover and weed. “Hardly seems real.”
“Yeah,” Hitoshi agrees in turn, gorgeous and tranquil as he looks around at his surroundings. “Last I’ll be seeing of all this, you know.”
“Yeah,” Aizawa reiterates, trying to be sensitive and not worry because he knows this is what Hitoshi wants. Even a good change is still a change, and that comes with its own emotional baggage.
But then Hitoshi announces, “Good fucking riddance,” and takes another solid puff, and Aizawa breaks into a fresh grin.
“How long is your lease on these places?” Aizawa queries, considering that Hitoshi has a lot of clothes that he’s not sure he has space for in his apartment. Perhaps he can convert a room into a walk-in wardrobe for Hitoshi, trap all the chaos in there away from the bedroom. What will be their bedroom, come tonight. If that’s not intimidating enough.
“Couple of months more here, the other one I renew month by month so I can let go of it quicker,” Hitoshi replies, looking over at Aizawa as he tips ash from the joint again. “What’s your place like?”
Aizawa looks around at Hitoshi’s apartment through the closed glass screen door, and considers how strange it is that someone who feels like such a permanent part of his life now has never seen his home. How exciting it’ll be to have Hitoshi there, and never have to worry about him again the way he did before, quiet musing in the back of his head over long long years.
What Aizawa says, though, is a wry, “Tidy.”
Hitoshi sticks his tongue out at him. Aizawa can’t wait for his place to be made into a beautiful mess, just like Hitoshi.
“Not for long,” Hitoshi quips, offering a final toke on the joint that Aizawa declines, then stubbing it out in the ashtray. “You want coffee?”
“Love one,” Aizawa answers, though also what he wants is Hitoshi closer than next to him, and reaches for him accordingly. Hitoshi shifts carefully from the chair to Aizawa’s lap, and it’s not sexual, not least because of the way Hitoshi hisses as he gets himself situated in Aizawa’s lap, but it doesn’t need to be. There’s more to it than that, things Hizashi has no interest in and probably never will. Good. Leave it all for Aizawa.
Aizawa finds Hitoshi’s engagement ring with his fingers, traces it gently, and wraps his other arm around the waist of the person he’s going to get to marry in a few hours and keep with him forever. There couldn’t be anything better.
“It was fun, but I hate to ruin our wedding night in advance,” Hitoshi comments, and Aizawa smiles against his shoulder, enjoying the sensation of the silk against him and knowing he’ll need to go back to Hizashi in a bit and go get his suit and cleaned up and shave and ready for the wedding, but until then they can just be like this.
“It’ll be alright,” Aizawa murmurs, because Hitoshi couldn’t ruin anything about this day if he tried. Well, apart from not marrying Aizawa. As long as that happens, everything else is just a bonus. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah.” Hitoshi’s higher up from being in Aizawa’s lap, and the feeling of the kiss he presses to Aizawa’s hair warms him as much as the morning sun does. “Might still have a nap though, get my beauty sleep.”
“You’re already beautiful,” Aizawa says simply, but Hitoshi still smiles, kissing Aizawa’s head again, and he’ll keep saying such things for as long as Hitoshi will keep kissing him for saying them.
“I can be more beautiful,” he says mirthfully, and Aizawa leans up, looking up at Hitoshi and pleased with the ambling kiss Hitoshi lays on his mouth next. Aizawa’s not sure he can be more beautiful, but then, Hitoshi’s surpassed his expectations every day so far, so he’d be foolish to assume today is any different.
“I should go back to Hizashi,” Aizawa says disappointedly. He does love Hizashi in a lot of ways, but it’s not really a contest compared to how he feels about Hitoshi. Not today, anyway.
“Fair, who knows what trouble he’ll get up to if you leave him alone,” Hitoshi points out.
“Right,” Aizawa agrees, although there’s no immediate rush just yet. “I have time for coffee though.”
“Mmm, I’ll do a fresh pot,” Hitoshi announces as he hops up, sliding the door open and crossing the apartment like a silk scarf blowing on the wind.
“You mean, you made it so weak I’d hate it?” Aizawa surmises as he follows adoringly.
“Yes dear,” Hitoshi confirms unhesitatingly, sending a jolt of pleasure through Aizawa, then disappearing into the kitchen to get a new pot on. “I didn’t know if you were coming or not.”
“Of course I’m coming,” Aizawa replies unquestioningly. Always for Hitoshi. He indulges in a little dry humour with the remark, “I thought last night would’ve proved that.”
“Tch,” Hitoshi scoffs from the kitchen, slinking back out to wait while the coffee brews. Hizashi is out of the shower by the time it’s ready to drink, texting Aizawa irately about abandoning him, so Aizawa drinks half the pot fast enough for Hitoshi to scoff at him, and then gets into a fresh set of clothes, though he’ll be changing into the tuxedo at Hizashi’s later.
“You’ve got the address and all the arrangements?” Aizawa checks after he’s downed the last of the coffee on the balcony, Hitoshi lounging around looking stoned and very like he’s going to go back to sleep once Aizawa’s gone. Aizawa would love to stay with him, though there’s dangers to that considering Hitoshi’s asshole ought to be considered officially closed for business after last night. He deserves a little respite from being fucked all the time.
Besides, Recovery Girl accepted the invitation to the ceremony later, and there’s always a chance she’ll…
“Yes, dear,” Hitoshi says again with a grin, and Aizawa’s never loved a sound more than that word on Hitoshi’s mouth. “I’m not going to jilt you.”
“Good.” Aizawa doesn’t know what he’d do if he can’t marry Hitoshi literally today, but then, it’s not something he probably needs to worry about. Not with the way Hitoshi leans back against the warm glass balcony door and watches Aizawa the way Aizawa looks at him with a faint smile of ownership. Aizawa steps over to him quickly, lifting his hands to cup Hitoshi’s jaw and tilting his face up to bring his mouth to meet Aizawa’s. A lovely kiss, full of promise, and Aizawa only lowers his hands and steps away reluctantly, because he literally has to in order to do the things that need to be done in order to marry this person in a few hours time. “I can’t wait to marry you,” Aizawa says softly, sure that his heart couldn’t take any more of this without exploding.
“Me either,” Hitoshi replies, standing up and stretching after Aizawa to give him one more kiss goodbye before he scales the ladder. “See you there.”
Aizawa nods and then forces himself to go before he decides to stay, returning to Hizashi, who catches him coming in through the window as he’s standing admirably fully dressed and combing out his wet hair with his fingers.
“Took your fucking time,” Hizashi greets Aizawa snottily, but he’s had no coffee yet and must also be hungover. His alcohol tolerance is better than Aizawa’s, but Aizawa lets it go for now. There isn’t much that can ruin Aizawa’s mood today. Though Hizashi does like to test him, narrowing his eyes to demand suspiciously, “You weren’t fucking, were you?”
“He got DP’ed last night, Hizashi,” Aizawa says scathingly. “He needs a bit more recovery time than that.” Also, with another thought, “And even if I was, he’s my fiancé.”
“Yeah yeah,” Hizashi dismisses, flapping his hand in a bla bla motion and whipping his wet hair over his shoulder like a snooty pedigree dog. “Let’s get gigantic coffees on the way back to mine.”
Aizawa nods, not mentioning that Hitoshi made him coffee just now because there’s only so much friendly bitching he cares to invite this early in the morning, and he could go for a gigantic coffee right about now, half-stoned and definitely not telling Hizashi that either or he’ll throw a fit.
Hizashi’s moods never last for long anyway, thirty seconds at most before he’s zipped up the jacket of last night’s clothes like a truly shameful slut and set out to make the trip back to his place. Hizashi’s never done a walk of shame in his life, because that would assume he feels any. It’s the stride of pride, according to him.
“So, you excited?” he cheerfully asks Aizawa when they’re almost at the ground floor in the lift.
Aizawa nods, smiling. “Very.”
“Kayama text me already,” he adds out of nowhere, running parallel thoughts because it’s just what he does. “She’s nearby still too so we should pick her up on the way.”
Aizawa rolls his eyes. “Of course she is.” Which means she must have stayed over with some of Hitoshi’s friends, no doubt. Hopefully she paid for it, Aizawa finds himself thinking. Mamasan and the girls will need the income.
They go get their gigantic coffees, including one for Kayama too who meets them at Hitoshi’s favourite coffee shop not in last night’s clothes anymore, but a brand new catsuit that she claims to have ‘earned’ last night with the friends of Hitoshi she did go home with of course. When Aizawa dares to ask if she was charged for it she cackles and declares that Mamasan booked her several nights over the next month already in what Kayama refers to a ‘fuck pro quo’ kind of arrangement.
“She booked you?” Aizawa repeats disbelievingly.
“Yeah, they’ve been looking to diversify and she wants a dominatrix to do some demos on the girls apparently,” Kayama replies boldly, her neck covered in hickies where the jumpsuit collar ends and slurping her coffee loudly.
“They’ve been shut down,” Aizawa tries to argue.
“Oh honey,” Kayama retorts. “Come on.”
“You’re a pro hero,” Aizawa continues scathingly.
“Who tears all her clothes off to use her quirk,” Hizashi swings next. “You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first, Shouta.”
“No I’m not.” Aizawa huffs and slugs his coffee, feeling it eat away at his hangover while his wedding nerves gnaw on it from the other side.
“Besides, who better to make sure they stay out of trouble than a hero?” Kayama lobbies. “Hookers need heroes too, you know.”
Musing it over, Aizawa reconsiders, “Yeah, fair enough.” Mamasan wouldn’t let anything stop her for that long, he supposes, and the police around here are probably amiable to some fuck pro quo themselves. Kayama will probably keep them out of some kinds of trouble, and probably get them into just as many different kinds. Aizawa calls her a pro hero, but she’s an R-rated pro, which is not quite the same as being PG popular. She’s got a bit more in common with an underground like Aizawa than they bother to talk about, not needing to debate anything that’s simply evident.
“So, you excited?” Kayama switches tracks with a delightful grin, bringing out an elbow to nudge Aizawa’s side.
“Very,” he replies with an irrepressible grin, before shooting each of them a sideways glance. “So you two better behave today.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” Hizashi scoffs, Kayama agreeing fiercely as she takes a slurp of her coffee.
“I suppose so,” Aizawa concedes a moment later. “As long as I get married today I’m satisfied.”
“Yeah, yeah– he’s been like this since yesterday, Kayama,” Hizashi explains mockingly, though he throws an arm around Aizawa’s neck while he’s doing it. “It’s literally insufferable.”
“Says the man more than happy to go along with us last night,” Aizawa points out. Hizashi didn’t mind him and Hitoshi being insufferable then.
“Oh yeah, so then how’s Hitoshi?” Kayama queries, putting two fingers together thoughtfully. “You like, fully split them in half?” She parts her fingers indicatively, though no one needed that visual.
Aizawa could consider trying to maintain privacy, but that would be stupid, when the matter concerns Hizashi.
“Sure fucking did,” Hizashi answers unhesitatingly. “I will say, I know exactly why Shouta proposed already.”
“Yeah, because he’s a commitment-mad maniac,” Kayama retorts.
“True,” Hizashi agrees, and Aizawa agrees too, though he remains silent. “But Hitoshi’s actually going along with it, so they’re both maniacs together.”
“Hah! You think they’re cute,” Kayama accuses, pointing out rare emotion from Hizashi when it comes to love rather than sex.
“Tch, alright,” Hizashi’s prepared to admit, crossing his arms with his coffee still in one hand. “They’ve got my ‘blessing’ if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t need it,” Aizawa notes.
“Of course you do,” Hizashi insists. “When have I ever led you astray?”
“All the time,” Aizawa argues, but it’s fun and lighthearted enough to take his mind off getting married. Not that he needs to be distracted, necessarily, it’s just that whenever he starts thinking about it he gets too excited to possibly stand to wait all those endless minutes that make up the mere hours until he and Hitoshi are going to get married. Because they can.
“Well apart from those times, when have I ever led you astray?” Hizashi reasserts, and Aizawa looks over at him with a rare radiant grin, because if there’s a day to smile for no reason, it’s this fucking day.
Knowing it’s the truth, and understanding why people call their wedding days the best day of their life, Aizawa answers, “Never.”