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“Rumi,” Keigo hissed into his phone. “I know you can hear me. Let me in.”
“You should’ve remembered your key!” Rumi responded cheerfully. “I’m not home right now, I guess you’ll need to find another way.”
Keigo shoved against the door again, clenching his fists. His feather had definitely unlocked the door, which meant that Rumi had blocked him out from the inside, too. “Rumi. Let me in. He’s going to be home soon.”
“Who’s going to be home soon?” Rumi pretended like she was innocent. Like she hadn’t set him up for ridiculous failure in the middle of the hallway in front of his crush, who was bound to get home from his hero work at any moment. It was three in the morning, there was no reason for her to be doing this to him.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Rumi, please, I can’t look like an idiot in front of him.” Keigo had already looked like an idiot in front of him. It’s not like he’d never talked to his neighbor before – honestly, they were nearly friends. But the thing was that he was really hot, and he had made the mistake of whining about it to Rumi a few times, hoping that she would just listen to him and let him mourn his neighbor’s jawline and his neighbor's abs and his neighbor’s ass and not… lock him in the hallway where he was going to be forced to talk to him.
Keigo pressed his face against the door, sinking to the ground. “Kei, I can’t listen to you go on another rant about his ass. I can’t. I love you so much, but I cannot take that any longer. I took your key out of your pocket last night, and the door is barricaded. Your feathers aren’t getting you in. Please, for the love of god, ask him out before I go crazy.”
“You rant about how hot Endeavor’s daughter is all the time! Why am I the one who’s suffering?” Keigo glanced at the stairs again to make sure that they were still empty, pressing his face into his hands.
“She doesn’t live literally across the hall, Keigo. I don’t talk to her every day. If she did, I’d already be dating her. I would march straight up to her door, knock on it, and tell her everything. I don’t have that luxury. I’m helping you.” She was not helping him. She was setting him up for humiliation.
Keigo knocked louder against the door, though he continued to be ignored. “I’ll do anything if you just let me in,” he said. And then he heard footsteps on the staircase, and only one person could have that quiet of footsteps in their building. “He’s coming, Rumi, please,” Keigo hissed into the phone.
“Have fun, Kei! I’ll see you in the morning!” She hung up before he could beg again and Keigo cussed, sinking against the door and hoping that he somehow blended into the wood and wouldn’t be noticed.
Aizawa Shouta walked straight up to his door, his hero goggles hanging in one of his hands as he dug the key out of one of the utility pockets on his belt. It took everything in Keigo not to just stare at him. At least he seemed focused on the task at hand, and not on his neighbor's situation in the hallway.
Maybe if Aizawa didn’t notice him, Keigo wouldn’t have to talk to him, and Rumi would let him in. Or he’d just sleep in the hallway and wake up before Aizawa left the next morning so he wouldn’t ever know he was there.
Aizawa got his door unlocked and then paused, turning his head and raising his eyebrows.
Looking straight at Keigo.
Fuck.
Like it wasn’t bad enough that Aizawa’s entire attention was on Keigo, he had just gotten out of hero work.
His hero costume wasn’t form-fitting. Hell, it wasn’t even fitting. It was a baggy jumpsuit, a massive scarf, and a pair of goggles. And yet Keigo was sweating looking at him. His bangs were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his arm muscles were very visible despite the massive jumpsuit.
Keigo was going to die on the dirty hallway floor of his apartment building and Aizawa Shouta was going to be the sole cause of that death.
“Takami?” Any hope Keigo had had of not being noticed and living out his misery alone in the hallway was completely and utterly shattered. He looked up at Aizawa and waved awkwardly.
“Hey, Aizawa!” he said, just imagining Rumi with her ears pressed up against their door at this very moment. “I misplaced my key this morning, and Rumi must already be asleep.”
Aizawa regarded him for a moment longer before letting out a puff of breath and shrugging. “I don’t have a roommate. There’s no furniture in the bedroom, but I have a couch. If you don’t mind cat hair, you can stay there for the night.”
He was regarding him with a slightly pitying look, probably one he used on his students, but Keigo couldn’t quite mind because his heart was pounding.
Had Aizawa seriously just invited him into his apartment?
“That’s not necessary,” Keigo immediately answered, and he heard a thump from within his apartment. Aizawa quirked his eyebrow, looking Keigo up and down scrutinizingly.
“You’re going to sleep in the hallway?” he asked, and Keigo groaned. “I can break you into your apartment if you don’t want to stay with me that much, but it’s got to be more convenient.” He shrugged. “It’s three in the morning; I hardly think she’d appreciate being woken up at this point.”
Keigo hardly cared what Rumi appreciated right now, but he nodded nonetheless. “I guess it’s a better offer than the floor.” He laughed before awkwardly groaning. “I mean. I’m not… Avoiding you? Your apartment?”
Fuck.
Maybe Rumi was right, maybe he did need extreme action in order to have any sort of romantic interest in his life.
“I’d love to come in,” he said instead, and Aizawa nodded, opening the door wider in greeting, though sticking his foot out. Keigo was about to ask, but then a cat came zooming at the door, tripping into Aizawa’s foot.
He scooped the cat into his arms, scratching her head and rolling his eyes. “You’d think she’d learn after a few tries of the exact same escape route,” he murmured, looking at Keigo again. “Come ahead in.”
Keigo scrambled to his feet, walking into Aizawa’s apartment.
Aizawa closed the door behind him, setting the cat back down once he had. It stayed around their feet, wrapping around Aizawa’s and he smiled, stepping over her. “I have to go shower and change out of this. Make yourself at home. Have you eaten?”
“I haven’t,” Keigo said before thinking.
“There’s some food in the fridge, if you want something. I still have to eat too.” Okay. That made it a little better because that meant that Aizawa and Keigo could eat together.
Okay, never mind, that didn’t make it better! Keigo should have eaten while he was on duty or filling out the paperwork, but he had so many things he had to do that it had slipped his mind.
And he hadn’t been expecting to be locked out of his apartment when he got home.
“I can make something!” Keigo offered. “I’m good at making things with whatever I can find. Me and Rumi aren’t the best at remembering groceries.” He laughed.
“Go ahead. Hizashi stocks the fridge every once and a while, so there should be whatever you need for something simple. I’ll be back in a few.”
Aizawa walked back to his room and Keigo took hold of the counter, breathing out.
Okay. He could do this.
He walked over to Aizawa’s fridge. It was fuller than his and Rumi’s so Hizashi (Yamada? Present Mic? Was that who Hizashi was? Keigo had no idea he was close friends with Aizawa, but he supposed it made sense since they were both teachers at UA and probably a similar age) did a good job whenever he brought him groceries.
Keigo grabbed the ingredients from the fridge, cooking a fairly simple dinner.
When dinner was almost done, he suddenly realized what was coming next.
What was coming next was Aizawa straight out of the shower, in whatever he wore to bed. His hair would probably be wet and matted to his face. His clothes wouldn’t be that terribly fitting jumpsuit, he’d –
“It smells good,” Aizawa said, humming softly as he stepped out of his room again. His hair was hanging limply around his hand, hanging longer than usual with the wetness of it. He was dressed in ridiculously pink sweatpants and a black t-shirt that clung to his wet body way too nicely for something that must be too big.
Keigo jumped a little, realizing that he had been staring probably a bit too much. His cheeks turned red and he poured the food out onto two plates, sliding one across to Aizawa and carrying the other to the table.
Aizawa handed him a pair of chopsticks, immediately digging into the food. “Hizashi always gets on me for not eating after I have patrol. He has a key so he can come in whenever he wants. Has his show tonight.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before grabbing his phone, tapping a few buttons on it before it started to play Mic’s radio show.
At least Keigo had guessed that right. “You’re close to him?”
“We went to high school together,” Aizawa answered. “He forced his friendship onto me.” He looked down at the table, smiling a little. “I’ve gotten used to it. He’s a good friend.”
Oh.
Keigo would die for that smile!
He would absolutely fall apart to see that smile again, he couldn’t believe that Aizawa was that cute when he smiled.
Well, he could believe. He could absolutely believe that because there was nothing about Aizawa that wasn’t cute.
“Sounds like it! Rumi usually makes enough for leftovers, and I’ll cook when she’s busy later than me. It’s a good tradeoff.” He shoveled more food into his mouth.
Aizawa raised his eyebrows. “You’re home late often?”
Keigo shrugged. “Depends on what I’m needed for. Had a few interviews and patrol today, and then I still had paperwork from last time I patrolled. And I needed to fill out some forms for something the Hero Commission is considering assigning me too, so I was there later than usual.”
Aizawa hummed. “You’re their golden boy. Figured they’d let you out whenever you wanted.”
Keigo shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’d like to live in a world where heroes don’t have to do anything at all, but that’s not where we are yet. If I’ve gotta fill out forms and patrol late, I will. Someone’s got to.”
“Flashy heroes like you don’t usually like to patrol outside of the spotlight.” Aizawa hummed, setting his chopsticks down beside his empty plate, eyeing him curiously. “Ranked heroes usually stick in the limelight.”
“I mean, I guess so. Love my fans and stuff. But they needed me late, and there was more to do with a late patrol. Plus, I could just sit on top of the buildings once I caught the one they wanted me to, and it was an easier patrol.” Keigo’s patrols could become fairly overwhelming. His fans were fantastic, but they were… a lot. He had risen the ranks quickly, and the Hero Commission had helped him shape himself into the perfect image even outside of being a hero. Attractive, but different enough to be very popular outside of what he did as a hero.
Aizawa smiled, a soft small smile. “Wouldn’t have expected that from you, Takami. It’s refreshing to hear.”
“It is?” Keigo asked. “It’s just what we should do.”
“Not everyone thinks like that.” Aizawa shrugged. “Part of the reason I’m underground is so I can get my job done without people prying into my life. It’s a strategy with my quirk, but I also hate… publicity, the media. I hate them prying into our lives. They want to know too much, and I don’t want to give that up.”
That was fair. Keigo hadn’t really had a choice of what kind of hero he wanted to be. The Hero Commission had discovered him when he thought being a hero was a lost dream, alone on the streets, saving people because he knew nothing else. They’d brought him up, raised him to be the perfect public hero.
And he loved it.
For the most part.
“That’s fair. People have always known my whole life, so I guess I’m just… used to it.” Keigo shrugged.
Aizawa hummed, stretching out before standing. Keigo cheered for himself a little internally at the fact that he managed not to stare at Aizawa’s abs when he stood, even when the edge of his shirt lifted and he could definitely see a sliver of his stomach.
Now was not the time for that. He averted his eyes, standing as well and grabbing Aizawa’s plate with a feather. “Let me! You’ve let me spend the night here, least I can do is clean up after us.”
“You cooked,” Aizawa said, but shrugged nonetheless, following after him. “One plate is really not that hard.”
“I don’t mind!” Keigo said, walking straight to the sink and scrubbing the two plates, setting them down on the drying rack to dry before turning to Aizawa.
Aizawa was leaned against the counter, his hand tangled in his cat’s fur, eyes shut as he breathed softly. He was clearly exhausted, but at least there was no school tomorrow. Rumi had planned this perfectly to line up for both of them, and Keigo hated how much work she had put into this whole plot.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” Keigo said once the dishes were where they belonged, walking toward Aizawa’s living room.
Aizawa blinked his eyes open, and Keigo wondered if he’d managed to fall asleep standing there. He yawned again, shooing the cat off of the counter. It disappeared back toward his bedroom, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes before following. “I’ll probably sleep in late tomorrow,” Aizawa warned. “You’re welcome to leave whenever your roommate gets home, there’s a key taped to the top of the doorframe, just lock it after yourself and make sure Tempura doesn’t escape.”
“Tempura?” Keigo asked and Aizawa snorted in laughter.
“The cat. Hizashi named her.” Speaking of Hizashi, Present Mic’s radio show was still playing softly from Aizawa’s pocket. He wondered if it was a habit of his, to keep his friend’s show on when he got home late and he wasn’t there. “She thinks she’s a master escape artist, but it’s easy to keep her in.”
Keigo nodded. “No problem!” Aizawa turned to go toward his bedroom, walking the last few steps backward.
“Tell me once you’re in your apartment. And figure out where your key is.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes before shoving both deeply into his pockets, turning to open his door for himself and Tempura.
To go into his bedroom and –
Fuck it.
He had to give it a try, because Rumi would never let him back in if he didn’t at least try.
Keigo moved forward, quickly pressing his lips against Aizawa’s. “Thank you,” he murmured, just as quickly as he had kissed him, starting to turn toward the couch.
Aizawa caught his arm, and Keigo expected to be met with a harsh gaze, but he was met with the same soft smile and curiosity as dinner. “You kissed me,” he said, and Keigo breathed in before.
Okay. Okay, he could do it. “I did,” Keigo said. “And… I will immediately go sleep in the hallway if that’s a problem, but if it’s not, I wouldn’t mind – “
Aizawa pressed his lips against Keigo’s again, holding onto the edge of his shirt, holding him close to himself. He pulled away after a much longer kiss than Keigo’s, breathing out softly against his lips.
“Thank god,” Keigo groaned, kissing Aizawa again. “Does this…” How did you word something like this? “Are we dating?”
“Do you want to be, Takami?” Aizawa asked, a smirk in his eyes like he knew exactly how stumbled up Keigo would get trying to answer.
“Yes. Keigo,” Keigo said, before groaning. “I mean. Call me Keigo. And, yes, I would love to date you.”
“Shouta,” he answered, kissing Keigo once more. “And I think that’s fine with me.” He smirked. “Goodnight, Keigo.” He kissed Keigo again, this time deepening it.
It hardly felt like a goodnight kiss. It felt like a kiss that had a promise of being up all night, of the two of them, pressed together, of –
Of things that Keigo really shouldn’t think about if he wanted either of them to go to bed. He kissed Shouta back, letting out a soft gasp when he teethed at his lip, running his tongue against them before pulling away.
“Goodnight, Shouta,” Keigo said breathlessly.
Shouta laughed, finally turning around to his bedroom. “You’re still welcome to leave whenever you wake up,” he said, a smirk practically audible in his voice, “but if you’re still around in the morning, I wouldn’t mind a repeat.”
Oh, god. That was an offer Keigo wasn’t likely to refuse. Shouta walked into his bedroom and Keigo laid back onto the couch, covering his hands with his face. He refused to text Rumi, despite his unreasonable desire to scream every detail of the night at her. She deserved nothing for this plot, even if it had gotten Keigo exactly what he had been dreaming for since they’d moved in.
He tugged the blanket off of the top of the couch, wrapping it around his body. It had a loud pattern on it, something Keigo assumed he was right in thinking that Shouta did not pick for himself.
Somehow, Keigo actually managed to fall asleep quickly. He laid face-down against the couch so his wings could drape on either side of his body. Luckily, unlike his own apartment, Shouta had very little in his main room he could knock down if his wings happened to move while he was sleeping, so Keigo managed to relax onto the couch.
He woke up in the morning blearily staring at the bright light streaming in from the windows.
And to the smell of food.
Keigo blinked, sitting up and turning toward the kitchen. His wings hit up against the table and he bit his lip, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“I guess ‘sleep late’ doesn’t mean the same to both of us,” Shouta said, looking back toward the couch and smirking. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?” Keigo doubted he’d slept that long, but he definitely hadn’t expected Shouta to be awake before he was.
“Ten.” So not late at all. “Sleep late is sleep at all for me, half the time. I’ve been up for a few hours, figured I’d get a start on breakfast.”
“How are you not dead on your feet?” Keigo groaned, standing up and walking toward the kitchen.
Shouta turned back at him, raising his eyebrows. His hair was done back in a cute little bun and Keigo died a little bit at how adorable he looked. “I am. I’ve just learned to deal with it.”
Keigo spotted the mug in his hand and lit up, eyes searching the kitchen. “Deal with it with coffee?”
“By the fridge.” Shouta seemed to notice his search and Keigo immediately went in that direction, grabbing the mug (“#1 Dad”, it read. Shouta’s was shaped like a cat. He hadn’t struck Keigo as someone with a multitude of novelty mugs, but he couldn’t deny how precious it was that he did have them) Shouta had laid out for him. He filled it up with coffee and immediately took a sip of it, breathing out.
“Morning,” Keigo finally responded, leaning against the counter and letting his wings droop behind him so they were out of the way. Something immediately hit his feathers and he glanced down.
Tempura was batting at the feathers closest to the ground. He laughed softly, disconnecting one and dangling it for her to play with, moving it throughout the kitchen and watching her chase.
“I made eggs.” Shouta turned off the oven, setting the food onto both of their plates before crowding into Keigo’s space. Keigo blinked in surprise, not expecting Shouta to be the one to initiate the contact, but not at all against it. He hooked his fingers in the pockets of Shouta’s pants, holding him close when he met their lips.
Shouta tasted like sugar, and Keigo wondered just how he took his coffee but couldn’t think about that for too long as Shouta lazily slipped his tongue into Keigo’s mouth, his hands tucked up under the edge of his shirt.
Fuck, Keigo could get used to this very quickly. It was warm and cozy and domestic in a bunch of ways that Keigo hadn’t anticipated at all, and he loved it.
His stomach, though, did not enjoy nearly as much. After a nasty gurgling noise from Keigo’s stomach, Shouta pulled away, his mouth curving into a small smile, a silent laugh shaking his body. “Let’s eat, then we can continue this.”
Keigo nodded, his face flushed as he grabbed his plate and sat down. They ate relatively in silence, other than a few loud complaints from Tempura. Shouta quickly stood to deal with that, filling her bowl with her breakfast while going to get himself more coffee.
“Sweet tooth?” Keigo watched Shouta dump some sugar into his coffee before he brought it back to the table and Shouta shrugged.
“Makes it bearable.” Shouta drank another sip of his coffee, leaning back against his seat. “I’m shocked you take it black.”
“Not always,” Keigo answered. “But I don’t mind it.”
Shouta huffed, closing his eyes as he finished off the second (probably second. Who knew if he’d had any more before Keigo had woken up) cup.
Keigo finished his breakfast shortly after, grabbing the dishes again.
“I cooked,” Shouta said, grabbing the plate from Keigo. “That was your excuse last night.”
Keigo rolled his eyes, grabbing their mugs.
They washed the dishes and Shouta dried them, putting them and the plates from last night away.
After he had, though, he immediately crowded back into Keigo’s space, meeting their lips together.
One kiss faded into two faded into three faded into… Keigo had no idea how long they leaned against each other, lazily kissing and exploring each other’s mouths. Shouta kept his cold hands tucked into the bottom of Keigo’s shirt and Keigo slipped his into the waistband of Shouta’s pants, though they didn’t move any further.
It was…
Fuck, it was nice. It was stupidly soft and domestic and Keigo was unbelievably excited by the prospect of it being his.
After a while, Shouta pulled away and just leaned against him, closing his eyes.
Keigo could swear he was asleep, if not for the way that he shifted his weight every so often, looking up to meet Keigo’s eyes.
God, he didn’t want to leave.
But it was getting late, and he was still dressed in his clothes from the night before and starting to feel the fact that he hadn’t slept on a proper bed after a long day.
“I should get home,” Keigo sighed. “Thank you, again, for letting me stay.”
“Worked well for both of us, didn’t it?” Shouta smirked, leaning against his kitchen counter and letting Keigo move.
“Maybe I’ll have to try this again,” Keigo murmured, looking over at Shouta, who raised his eyebrows.
“Get locked out of your apartment and make out with your neighbor? Should I be concerned about my competition?” he asked, his tone so flat that for a second Keigo panicked.
“No – I mean – “ he stuttered for a few seconds and Shouta’s stoic expression curved into a smile, his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “Your only competition is yourself.”
Shouta shook his head, leaning in to brush his lips once more against Keigo’s. “You make it too easy,” he said, snorting in laughter before pulling away, looking down at him. “Is your roommate home yet?”
“She’s been home this whole time,” Keigo muttered, his cheeks ablaze. “I…”
Shouta raised his eyebrows and Keigo groaned, willing the ground to swallow him alive. “She’s been there the whole time? But didn’t let you in?”
Keigo swallowed before looking up. “She kept complaining about me talking about how hot you were but refusing to ask you out so she decided to take matters into her own hands and lock me out and barricade the door until I asked you out.” He groaned once he’d finished his explanation. “So she took my key out of my pocket yesterday morning and barricaded it so I couldn’t just pick the lock with my feathers?”
Shouta bit his lip before he started to laugh, this time vocalizing the noise. “You were that vocal about it?”
“I hate Rumi with my entire heart,” Keigo groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“Lucky for you,” Shouta said, “your neighbor was just as interested in you.”
Keigo leaned forward to meet his lips one last time before pulling away. “I can’t believe her dumb plan worked.”
“Better go thank her,” Shouta taunted, leaning against the doorframe. “Though, I’d recommend a more straightforward approach from here on out.”
“I don’t need any method now,” Keigo answered, grinning at Shouta and walking backward toward his apartment. “You’re stuck with me now!” After he spoke, he stumbled over his own feet, stumbling backward into his door and leaning against it, his cheeks ablaze again. “I meant to do that!”
Shouta snorted in laughter, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I agreed to date you,” he muttered, turning around and shutting his door behind him.
Keigo banged on his door. It opened immediately, and Rumi stood on the other side, grinning at him. “So?”
“Your stupid plan worked,” Keigo groaned. “He invited me over last night and then we made out this morning and he’s my boyfriend.”
“I told you so!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him before punching his shoulder, dragging him inside. “Was it worth the months of pining?”
“I hate you.” Keigo didn’t answer, collapsing face-first onto their couch.
She patted his shoulder, sitting on top of his legs and turning on the TV. “You don’t. And now you owe me.” Oh god. What was her request going to be? Probably something unreasonable that he would have no idea how to fulfill or something stupid like – “You work with Todoroki all the time. Met his family? His daughter’s cute, get me her phone number.”
“Rumi, I can’t just ask Endeavor for his daughter’s phone number because my roommate wants a date,” Keigo mumbled into the couch.
“Then get creative! I got you your boyfriend; I want Todoroki Fuyumi’s phone number. It’s a fair deal.” She patted his head once more, kicking her feet up onto their coffee table.
Keigo sighed, turning his head so he could see the TV as well, his cheek pressed against the pillow. “I’ll figure something out.”
“I knew you were my best friend for a reason!”