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They'd been married for ten years.
Well, married wouldn't be the right word. More like “conveniently co-signed in each other's lives”. Starting out, Shouta and Hizashi were more akin to starving artists than Pro-Heroes. Affording rent was tough, paying medical bills (which piled high while fighting villains) was tough, and god forbid they ever decided to buy some groceries. So a few years out of high school, both of them tired and hungry and broke (and maybe a little drunk), they decided to get married.
It wasn't anything major. Just a signature on a piece of paper that tied the two of them to each other in a way that would help them both out financially. It eased the way when either one of them was in the hospital and the doctors needed to talk to their medical proxy – simply explaining that they were married saved them a lot of paperwork. They joined bank and credit accounts, which helped them build their credit and lifted the weight of their bills when they moved in together.
Groceries were split, they shared a car (though Hizashi was the one who drove it the most), they were both under the same phone plan, and to save even more money they even shared the same bed in a one-bedroom – everything was shared.
They'd even joined their names: Yamada-Aizawa. Everything. Shared.
Except for their love lives.
Shouta would admit that he'd been harboring a...disgusting amount of emotions for his best friend and husband for a long time. Quietly pining after him since high school was something he was used to doing. And while they had both agreed that being married wouldn't get in the way of their relationships with others, neither one of them bothered trying to date or meet up with someone new. It allowed a small amount of hope to bloom in his chest, but as the years went by and Hizashi didn't try to make any moves, well. Shouta let that one lie.
So he let himself be content with the fact that he was married to him. Even if it was just a marriage of convenience. At least he was by his side, sharing everything and able to see his smiling face every day.
It was one of those rare days in which both of them actually had off from every duty and job, so they both decided to try and be responsible adults and get as many chores done between the two of them before eating in and watching a movie together. Shouta adamantly horded the household chores, not wanting to deal with the crowds outside, and Hizashi laughed and dutifully plucked the grocery list from Shouta's outstretched hand. “Don't worry, I've gotta make a couple stops anyway for work, just a favor or two for some coworkers,” he reassured. “I'll protect you from the evil crowded shops.”
Shouta threw the car keys at his head.
Shouta tackled the pile of dirty clothes that was in the corner of their bedroom first. Sorted everything by color and fabric type – mostly because Hizashi would complain if he just shoved whatever would fit in the washer if he didn't. When the first load was in, Shouta grabbed a cloth and the all-purpose cleaner to start dusting. It wasn't something he really cared much for, but Hizashi's allergies tended to act up with too much dust. And that, plus his Quirk? Made for some very deadly sneezes.
Before he knew it, Shouta had gotten the living area and the bedroom dusted, half the laundry washed and ready to fold, the carpet vacuumed, and the trash taken out. The realization that he'd actually done that amount of work around the apartment without either help or a nap made him exhausted. The thought of Hizashi's please smile upon seeing everything almost done made it worth it, though.
He was just switching the laundry again when the front door opened. “Heeey, Shouta! I'm back! Wanna help me get this stuff in the kitchen?”
Shouta hid a smile, shuffling into the front room. “That took a while,” he said, taking a few of the bags from Hizashi's straining arms. “Was the store busy or something?”
“Nah,” Hizashi said, giving him a grin as he fully stepped inside. “I mean, I did have to wrestle an old lady for the squid - “
“Liar.”
“I'm not lying!” He was. Shouta could tell by the way he was laughing and ducking his head just a little. “I got a little turned around while running that errand for my coworker. But!” Hizashi tossed his armloads of groceries onto the counter, handful of envelopes and papers in his hands plopping down next to the bags. “I've returned triumphant. Aaand I got the mail!”
“Hm. Good, then you can make dinner.”
“Booo!”
They chattered while they put the groceries away, Hizashi marveling over the clean floors and the way he could breath a little easier inside. Shouta listened with a fond smile as Hizashi complained about the college kids who had tried to pay with coupons and only coupons at the register. It wasn't until they were almost done that Hizashi groaned. “Aw, crap.”
“What is it?” Shouta turned to look at him, frowning at the sight of his husband scowling at the box of cereal in his hands. “Do you. Not like that brand anymore?”
“What? No, no, I just – I forgot to grab milk.” Hizashi sighed, placing the box of cereal in the cupboard and turning to grab his keys again. “I'll just run to the corner store really fast, 'kay? I'll be right back.”
Shouta shrugged, turning back to unpacking the last couple bags. “Don't get lost.”
“That was one time!” Hizashi cried, and when Shouta only huffed a laugh he rolled his eyes and left.
Getting everything put away and the bags put into the 'use-again' pile at the bottom of the pantry took maybe another couple minutes, and then Shouta allowed himself to take a moment to breathe. Chores were so exhausting. He grabbed a glass of water, grateful for the cool liquid down his throat, then decided to look through the mail. Usually it was a bunch of ads and coupons, but occasionally there would be important things, such as hard-copies of documents and forms they would need to fill out for this or that. Shouta wasn't the biggest fan of filling out paper forms, but Hizashi much preferred it to straining his already terrible vision over a computer screen.
'Ad, ad, another ad, not our mail, scam, ad...' Yep, more of the same. There were a couple things addressed to him, which Shouta set aside to look at later – chances they were something sent to him by the precinct – and then Shouta got to the bottom of the pile.
Just a simple manila envelope with sticky note on it that said “Yamada-Aizawa”.
Shouta frowned at it, picking it up. It didn't look like something sent through the mail. He sighed, carefully picking the envelope open and preparing himself to call up either Hizashi or Tsukauchi. The little metal tabs bent back with no trouble and he tipped the contents out into his hands. Paper, which he assumes is better than pictures of questionable origins - at least, it's better until he reads what the papers say.
PETITION OR DECLARATION FOR SIMPLIFIED DIVORCE
The words are big and bold and simple across the top of the forms. Shouta stared at them for a long moment, trying to make sense of the what he was looking at.
A joke, he decides eventually, tossing the papers onto the counter and turning away from them. Just a, a joke by Hizashi, a stupid prank that doesn't mean anything at all and meant to get him to scowl at his friend and Hizashi shoved off the couch while they watch movies later. Shouta took a deep breath, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. For such a stupid, pointless joke, his heart definitely pounded very fast.
He took another breath, pushing off of the counter and decided to sort out the laundry. Better to get back to work than think too hard on it. He could tell Hizashi that the prank was terrible later. A few minutes pass, him sitting on the floor of the living room carefully folding shirts and pants and pairing the socks up, but as the task becomes less and less tedious his thoughts stray towards the papers. Towards the papers and...what if it wasn't a joke.
Shouta could be honest with himself. He wasn't the most pleasant person to be around, he knew that. Most people were put off with his careless appearance and his blunt attitude. He knew he tended to be kind of a downer at get-togethers, that people usually deliberately didn't invite him to such things because of it. He knew that.
Hizashi had told him a few times that he wished that Shouta was more comfortable going out, but he'd never pushed. So he'd assumed that while it was something Hizashi wished they could do, he was okay with the fact that Shouta didn't go out. What if...
'No, no, stop thinking so much,' Shouta scolded himself, slapping a pair of socks into the sorted pile.
But once he started thinking, he couldn't stop.
Hero duties always came with consequences. The both of them knew this. Both of them ended up in the hospital due to villain attacks, both of them had late nights and long cases, both of them had to file for new costumes because a villain ruined theirs. Sometimes they'd be on a case together and, due to their marital status, end up sharing a hospital room for a night. But Shouta knew that this year? This year was bad.
The USJ Incident was a heavy thing in the back of his mind on a good day. On a bad day? Well, Shouta hated those days. Those days he'd be snappy and paranoid and always, always Hizashi was so careful with him. Those days his arm hurt and his eyes burned and he couldn't do anything with his hair without feeling a large hand grinding his face into the ground. Those days he'd stay awake no matter how tired he got because the nightmares were of villains attacking and hands reaching out and the terrified screams of his students –
He also knew that he hospital bill was anything other than convenient.
Neither was the press after the disaster of the Summer Camp. Several students injured, a few hospitalized for days, and one kidnapped. While he hadn't been injured there, a part of Shouta wished he had been. At least it would have been proof that he'd tried to help. Tried to do something. Sure, the press didn't know they were married. Didn't know Eraserhead and Present Mic were sharing a last name. But when Shouta thought about it, he could feel the stress it gave Hizashi.
Shouta hadn't realized he'd stopped folding the laundry, and honestly he didn't care. He was too busy trying to control his breathing.
What if. What if it wasn't a joke? What if the papers weren't a prank? What if – what if Hizashi really was trying to divorce him?
He didn't want it. Shouta didn't want a divorce. It was selfish and terrible of him, to want to hold onto his friend like that, but he loved Hizashi. He loved him so much, and to not share their lives was – he couldn't bare the thought. The thought that Hizashi wanted to not be tied to him any longer, no longer have any sort of responsibility for and with him, was so physically painful that it left Shouta gasping.
But who could blame Hizashi? Shouta was a liability. His hero name was being dragged though the mud by the press, which was affecting his duties on the streets. They were still trying to pay off the emergency surgery to save his arm and eyesight. And what was good, what was convenient about a husband who endangered children?
Shouta dug his fingers into his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. Curling in on himself seemed the only way to keep the wild fear and pain from escaping, but it didn't seem to help. His eyes were burning – not in the usual way, like he'd overused his quirk – his lungs were burning, his throat felt constricted and his heart hurt –
“Shouta!?”
He gasped, Hizashi's startled voice and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor catching him off guard. He blinked his eyes open, surprised to find his vision blurry, and looked towards his friend. “H-Hizashi – “
“Oh my god, Shouta, what's wrong? What happened?” Hizashi scrambled to his side, leaving the front door open and knocking some of the folded laundry over. A part of Shouta wanted to care that his hard work had just been ruined, but he just. Couldn't. He was too busy trying not to fall apart. “Shouta, come on, talk to me, please? Please, y-you're scaring me!”
Shouta sniffed, reaching for his friend and tugging him close so that the other was practically in his lap. Crap, he'd scared him. Why was he – “I'm sorry,” he blurted, voice muffled into Hizashi's neck. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Zashi – “
“Wha – Shouta, you, you don't have anything to be sorry for,” Hizashi said soothingly, gentle hands running through his hair. It felt so comforting, so wonderful, and Shouta felt a sob catch in his throat.
“Please don't leave, I'm sorry.”
“Leave? Honey, I'm not. I'm not going anywhere.” Hizashi pressed close, long arms wrapping Shouta in a tight hug. “I literally just got back from being out all day. I'm not gonna leave.”
The joke pulled a wet laugh from Shouta. It hurt to hear Hizashi being himself, upbeat and nice and calling him petnames. Doing what he could to get him to smile. Lying. “Don't lie, please.”
“Shouta, I'm not – “
“I saw the papers,” Shouta cut in quietly, not wanting to hear him lying anymore. “I – I know you want a divorce. A-and I know it's just a-a marriage of convenience, but please, Zashi,” he begged, voice cracking, “don't leave.”
Hizashi was quiet for a long moment, hands running slowly through his hair and just letting Shouta cry. He shushed him when he tried to beg again, just holding him and petting away the trembles. Eventually he sighed, turning his face into Shouta's messy hair. “Did you open the big ol' manila envelope?”
Shouta's breath hitched. Hizashi was admitting to – “Y-yes,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, I did. It didn't look like – like mail, so I was checking to see if it was something I needed to worry about or just toss. Wasn't.” He sniffed. “Wasn't expecting the divorce paperwork.”
Hizashi took a deep breath, settling more comfortably in Shouta's lap and squeezing with both arms and legs. “Shouta, hun, I'm not – I'm not going to leave,” he said, pulling away enough to look him in the eyes.
“Please don't lie to me – “
“I'm not, Shouta,” Hizashi said. He smiled, green eyes a little wet. “Shouta, I swear, I wouldn't leave you for the world. You're – you're way too important to me, I don't think I would last even a few minutes without you.” He pet a hand down Shouta's face, long fingers stroking over his jaw. “I'm pretty sure my heart would literally leap out of my chest and run right back to you if we ever got a divorce.”
Shouta couldn't help the snort at the mental image, but... “You're heart?”
Hizashi went pink, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. “Er. Yeah.” He licked his lips, an action Shouta followed with his eyes, and shrugged helplessly. “I, um. I'm pretty sure I. Might've been in love with you since the end of first year.”
Shouta stared.
No way. There was no way that Hizashi returned his feelings. After all these years – as friends, as coworkers, as husbands – there had been no signs. No hints. “Y-you. Really?” Shouta couldn't believe his ears, eyes wide and heart pounding and the heavy, heavy feeling he'd had over him since he first saw the word 'divorce' lifting. “You love me?”
Hizashi was steadily turning more and more pink, squirming a little in his lap. “Y-yes? Um, I mean, if that makes you uncomfortable – “
Shouta kissed him.
It wasn't anything special. Just a chaste meeting of lips, but Shouta felt like something was aligning for him in that moment, Hizashi going plaint against him and pressing forward into the kiss. Shouta raised his arms from where they'd held on around Hizashi's waist and dragged carefully through long, blond hair, breath stuttering in his chest at being so close to Hizashi. At finally, finally being able to be this close to him.
They pulled away slowly, Shouta's heart calm at last. “I love you, too,” he admitted, the confession light and blunt and pulling a bright smile from Hizashi.
“Good, that's – “ Hizashi laughed, a giddy thing that made Shouta's lips quirk up as well. “That's good.”
* ~ _ ~ * ~ _ ~ *
Later, as the both of them cuddled on the couch with their dinner and a movie playing on the television, Shouta finally managed to ask why the hell Hizashi had brought that stupid paperwork into their home in the first place. “That was the errand I was running for a coworker,” he explained, popping a piece of teriyaki chicken into his mouth with his fingers (“Use your chopsticks, dork.”) and shrugging sheepishly. “They were too busy with other things this week and asked me to grab the paperwork for them. The office was told I'd be picking it up, which is why the envelope had our names on it.”
“Maybe you could have let me know what it was ahead of time, Zashi,” Shouta grumbled.
Hizashi hummed, snuggling further into his husband's side. “Hmm, I could have, but I think I like the final outcome of this, don't you?”
“What, me having an embarrassing panic attack on the living room floor?”
“Shoooutaaaa, that's not what I meeeant!”
Shouta smiled, kissing Hizashi's cheek. “I know. I like the final outcome, too.”