dumbshow | the critically acclaimed open post

[Aizawa, who already quite clearly told Toshinori no sex tonight, and who is injured and needs his rest, is now bothered that he's not getting sex. Is that what's happening? That is evidently what's going on, and Toshinori can't help but laugh.

And he'll toss the fries over into the trash a moment later, when he's satisfied with Aizawa's grumpy baby reaction. Then he lies down, curling his arm around Aizawa and pulling him back against his chest.

Still no sex, though. Endure it, thirsty boy.]

You already slept.

I can always sleep more.

[Sad but true. But though he winces a little as Toshinori pulls him, it's worth it for the very unique and wonderful feeling of having someone spoon him. Aizawa shifts, squirms, not trying to tease so much as get comfortable.

It's surprisingly easy to fall asleep like that. It's easy for him to fall asleep anywhere, of course, but he would have thought the nerve-wracking sensation of having fucking All Might cuddling against him all night would keep him up.

But no. No, apparently he's fine with it, because one moment he's listening to Toshinori's breathing and the next he's squinting as some strange man runs around, trying and failing to be quiet as he gets ready.

. . . oh. It's All Might, he realizes, and yawns as he rubs his eyes and sits up. That hurts, but it's not as bad as yesterday. Blearily he stares at All Might, not really awake enough to say or do anything in greeting.]

[It's really quite comfortable, sharing his bed with Aizawa and holding him close like this. Not that Toshinori would say he was nervous, far from it, but the giddy excitement of sleeping next to someone he likes a great deal somehow recedes into something calmer, steadier, enough for him to sleep.

Waking up wrapped around Aizawa is even better, and he takes a moment just to lie there with him before he does actually have to get up and go about his day. Pulling away from Aizawa is a truly herculean effort, but one incredibly early morning run later, he's halfway out of his running shorts when he realizes Aizawa is awake.

Hmm, well, it's not like Aizawa has been wearing pants for like twelve hours, but somehow this is awkward.]

...Good morning!

. . . hi.

[Too loud, he thinks grumpily, squinting at this blond bright ball of sunshine. Too loud too much shut up stop talking, which is really nothing to do with Toshinori and everything to do with what a spectacularly crappy morning person he is.]

You're big.

[Brilliant observation, Shouta.]

[wow

Great, then he can get dressed without Aizawa short circuiting because he's just not awake enough to function. That's... handy?]

Haha! Sorry? How are you feeling?

[He's getting there. Let him thirst at his own pace.]

I didn't realize how much bigger you got when you were him . . .

[Mm. Interesting. He'll probably think something a little more filthy about that later on, but for now it's just an interesting fact. Aizawa yawns, rubs his face again, and finally answers:]

Better than yesterday. More than fine enough to get back to work.

[Which means that as nice as it would be to just lounge around in nothing but his not-boyfriend's shirt, he needs to get up and get going. With a groan, he swings his legs over, finally standing.

And now that thirst hits, as he glances over and really starts to focus on the fact that Toshinori is . . . not actually wearing anything? He sure isn't. He absolutely is not, he's just standing around without his shorts like that's totally normal and not at all embarrassing, he's--

Jesus, he thinks, and glances away, ears red.]

[There are just so many things to unpack here; talking about All Might like a separate person, odd-- Aizawa in such a rush to go back to work, admirable, but stupid-!! And of course, the way he stares for a moment before getting embarrassed.

Toshinori could just put on pants, he could do that right now, but he doesn't because just look at him, why should he? Ha.]

Now you look a little feverish. [ha] Are you sure you're ready to go back to work?

I'm not--

[Oh. He's being teased again, and he scowls. He also, after a moment, glances back over at him, because, well, how can he resist? And god, talk about All Might, that's so unfair--]

It doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. Even if all I end up doing is grading papers or delivering messages, it's still more useful than sitting in bed.

Hmm. I don't dislike that work ethic.

[And is he going to pose when Aizawa looks his way again? Maybe so! Yeah, he's doing it. Check out these guns, babe.]

What's with that look? You've seen me up close plenty of times!

[ha ha ha]

[Everything he can think to say-- I'm not looking like anything; this isn't the same thing and you know it; stop fucking posing-- all sound too inexperienced and sputtering to be allowed to be aired.

Instead he scowls, because that's got a good track record.]

I don't know who convinced you spandex was a good idea when you look like that.

Well, it had to stretch.

[Duh? He gets bigger, Aizawa, there has to be a little give in his costume. He'd like to go over there and kiss that scowl straight off his face, but first--time for pants.]

Do you want breakfast?

[Just wait til he gets turned on in the middle of battle, they'll see just how much stretching room he has.]

Yes.

[Still, he spends a few extra seconds looking him over before finally tearing his gaze away to go to the kitchen. It's doubtful Toshinori has some of that hideous pouch food he lives on, but maybe . . .? Or maybe just some rice.

Definitely just rice. At least he can cook that, that's something. And it feels sort of good to be able to contribute. It was nice to be cared for, even spoiled, but he likes being able to offer something in return.]

[Try not to turn him on mid-battle?? There will be news coverage and that's even worse than having to answer the door.

Whatever, though; he puts on some damn pants, finally, before wandering out to see what Aizawa has done to his kitchen. He's... making some rice. Okay. That's barely a breakfast, babe.]

Are you ever hungry?

I'm nearly two feet shorter than you. I don't need as much.

[Rice is filling! Rice is just fine, god. It's at least a lot of rice, both because he hasn't eaten in god knows how long and because he assumes Toshinori will eat at least two shares.]

You eat like it's just for fun and you aren't enjoying it.

[This weird boy... Cooking rice is enough to get Toshinori to come up behind him and wind an arm lazily around his waist. It's never to early for lots of affection, after all.]

I still have those fries.

What is with you and those fries? Eat them yourself.

[But he loves that affection. He really, really loves it, and tips his head, exposing his neck in a silent bid for more.]

Eating is . . . bothersome. It wastes time and effort. I'd rather just get all my nutrients in one shot.

[He paid for them, that's what. Ah, but if he's given such a brazen invitation, what choice does he have but to lean down and press a kiss against Aizawa's neck? None at all, so it's time for kisses.]

I've never known anyone who gets bored by eating.

[Ah, and he's grateful he's facing forward, because it means he can smile without being seen. His toes curl against the wooden floor, and Aizawa prods unnecessarily at the rice.]

And how many people have you really known?

[What kind of call out is this? Such a strange boy, but a strange boy who's still warm from sleep and with soft skin that smells nice, that he hums against as he trails his lips up toward his ear. Hmm!!]

No matter what I say, that doesn't it make it any less odd, you know.

Ah--

[Oh, and perhaps now would be a good time for Toshinori to remember he is very, very new at this, and thus any arguments he wins via strategic flirting don't count.]

You should pick it up. It's more efficient. You could spend more time training.

[Is this a serious argument?? Toshinori is barely listening and just saying words that he hopes make sense, engrossed as he is with kissing his neck and sliding his other arm around his waist, too.

Will the rice survive this encounter? Who can say.]

I like eating. You saw my menus.

It's illogical--

[This isn't a serious argument in the least, in no small part because that was mumbled. He's twisting around, squirming beneath that touch, one arm lifting to reach back and latch his fingers firmly around the back of Toshinori's neck. Stay, and also incidentally keep doing that, or even more, he's easy--

Except that arm movement sends a shock of pain running through him, and Aizawa can't help the way he jerks and hisses in pain.]

Eating?

[Eating. Eating, a basic survival function, is illogical-- but he'll pursue this in a moment, now that Aizawa is fidgeting and apparently hurting himself. It's because he has to reach up a foot and a half, isn't it, so there's only one choice.

Well, there are several, but only one that appeals to Toshinori's desire to both kiss him and stop him from wiggling all over the place, so it's this: he turns Aizawa around by his shoulders and then effortlessly lifts him up to seat him on the kitchen counter. Tada!! Now he can lean in to kiss him without anyone having to telescope their spine or stretch their horrible acid burn wounds.]

[Oh, and he makes a little noise against his mouth, surprised and pleased and indignant all at once. No one's ever picked him up before (although Hizashi, god bless him, has certainly tried once or twice, tried being the keyword there). He's six feet tall, for crissake, muscled and fairly heavy for his height. Even if he wasn't, he's just not the kind of person who gets picked up.

But here he is regardless, moved so easily it's as if he weighs nothing at all, and there's something really fucking fantastic about that. Toshinori really can just move him however he wants him, and oh, but he'll absolutely fantasize about that later. He's fantasizing about it right now, hips rocking forward uselessly, face flushed in the best possible way.

For now: he sits up on the kitchen counter with his legs spread, Toshinori's oversized shirt falling off his shoulder and his mouth sore from how hard he's being kissed. Automatically one leg wraps around his hips, and he sighs in satisfaction as he yanks him in closer.

It's at least a minute before he dimly remembers--]

Turn the-- turn the stove off--

[Mumbled, and he doesn't give Toshinori a chance to respond before he's kissing him again.]

[He's the kind of person who gets picked up now, now that he's spending so much time with Toshinori, who can probably pick up anyone he's ever met unless they have a quirk that makes them huge. He absolutely loves that he can put Aizawa up on his kitchen counter like it's nothing and get away with it, coming closer to press against him between his legs, one hand groping blindly for his hip.

Turn the...? Oh, oh yes, the rice, and this breakfast should actually happen eventually, but apparently it's not happening right now. Toshinori has to grope blindly for that, too, occupied as he is with Aizawa's mouth, but luckily he can turn a dial and kiss at the same time.

So now there's no breakfast but there is Aizawa, flustered and flushed and still half-dressed, clinging to him with everything he's got once again. Toshinori's head is already spinning a little, and he squeezes Aizawa's hip hard to brace himself as he leans into him.

He has a schedule for the day— a schedule he's ignoring now to break apart from Aizawa's mouth with a breathless laugh at their completely predictable thirst. Not that he's done, far from it, ducking his head to nip at his neck. Aizawa wears that whole heap of fabric with his costume, he'll be fine with a mark or two—]

Sooner or later-- you're going to eat something.

[Or no more kisses, probably.]

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