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waterfallofspace · 11 months

Note

Could I request prompt 75 & 77 with Er/aserM/ic with Er/aser being the sneezy one?

Yes you can~ thank you for the request!! Always happy to write A/izawa, he was my first attempt at this, I adore this man <33 first anime guy I fell in love with ahaha~~ 1.9k words, prompts 75 and 77, story under the cut! 75. Accidentally inhaling an allergen. 77. Pinching the other’s nose before they can sneeze.

(References to swearing in case anyone doesn't like that!)

~~~~~~~

“Mic?”

“Yeah?”

The response comes from the other room, a noise that Aizawa can’t quite place following Mic’s voice as it echoes down the hall. Deciding to ignore it, ‘Probably just testing some new effects for his radio show… if I ask he’ll… tell me… and I’ve only had three cups of coffee today. Not nearly enough for that conversation.’ Aizawa just calls back, starting to take off his boots. He sniffles lightly, absentmindedly rubbing at his nose as a tickle starts to form deep within.

“I dropped Eri off, Mirio said he’d bring her back in a couple hours.”

“Okay, thank you dear!”

Stepping into the kitchen, Aizawa sets his keys down on the counter and starts preparing another pot of coffee. ‘Long as I don’t tell Mic I already had a cup in the car, I shouldn’t get chastised for it.’ Just as it starts to boil, Mic walks into the kitchen, planting a kiss on the back of Aizawa’s hair.

“I thought you were planning to stay over at UA until they were done? Something happen?”

“Not really. Midoriya wanted to take Eri out for some sweets, and I didn’t feel like tagging along to the store. Mirio said I could just head back, and he’d drop her off later.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? You almost sound disappointed I’m home early.”

“Of course not, love. I just- I was p- planning to… mix some new playlists..?”

“You’re a terrible liar, Mic.”

It’s true, but said with no malice, Aizawa letting a smile slip through his eyes for a second as he leans in for a kiss. Their lips barely touch before he has to pull away, rapidly raising a hand to pinch his nose as the tickle that had been dancing through his sinuses ignites. He manages to stifle, uttering an apology just before they escape.

“S- sorry I- hh- dngt’chu-! ih’knXT’chu-!”

“Oh, bless you!”

“Thanks. W- wait… eh’tnxxgt’chu-! I think I… hk’eNXT’chu-!”

“And again. Aw, I never get tired of that little ‘chuu’ sound! You’re so adorable~!”

“Mic please…”

He trails off, eyes starting to cloud over as the itch swells again. Oblivious to the fight, Mic brushes the hair from his face, leaning in for another kiss. Aizawa holds his breath, not eager to sneeze on his husband. At first he’s succeeding, but then Mic turns his head. It’s a slight movement, normally barely even noticeable, but Aizawa notices. Their noses brush together, the contact much too light.

Aizawa gasps, attempting to stall the tickle again as it starts to build, his nose twitching as it leans against Mic’s. Just as he’s about to lose the battle, Mic’s fingers tightly pinch his nose, breaking the kiss with a chuckle. Unable to do anything but gasp, Aizawa brings his own hands up, hovering as he fights the urge to pry Mic’s wrist off.

“heHh-! Z- Zashi… hahHAh-”

“Sorry ‘bout this, not exactly eager for you to sneeze on me Sho. I could feel your nose trembling, and it didn’t seem you were planning to break first.”

“Ca- caHh-! Can you let ghhho now?”

“Oh right, sorry!”

With that, Mic lets go, Aizawa hovering in sneezy limbo. Each breath seems to drag the tickle deeper, but the gasps go nowhere. After a minute, Mic giggles, leaning down and kissing his nose before stepping back. Aizawa can only gasp, ducking into his scarf with a few loose sneezes. They scrape out before he can stifle them, the intensity a direct response from being forcibly subdued.

“heH’dJSzuu-! eh’KDjZsshh’uu-! Scu- waihhht… another…. heH-! hahh- DJZShh’chuu-!”

“Blessings. That might have been my fault.”

“It’s alright. I- heh- knGT’chu-! was already feeling a bit itchy.”

He offers Mic a tired smile, pouring the coffee into his mug and shuffling over to the table. A sigh hisses out as he settles into the chair, leaning one elbow on the table, the other setting his coffee down so he can hastily pinch off another set.

“hh- knxgt’chu-! ainZGT’chu-! hehh- hH’DNgt’chu-!”

“Bless you!”

“Thanks.”

“You want some alone time?”

“Not- hh’nGT’chu-! particularly. You have something you wanna share?”

“Bless! Well- I diiiid just come up with this super rad new idea for my radio show!”

“Rad, Mic? eh’knXT’chu-! Even I know that’s not- hh- dngt’chu-! not something people say anymore.”

Aizawa lets Mic start rambling on, a soft look flooding his eyes as he bathes in the warmth from his husband’s smile. Despite the interruptions that keep bursting forth, Mic only pauses his monologing with blessings, never disrupting his flow. Slowly the sneezes start to get harder to stifle, until Aizawa’s practically crushing his nose into his fist each time.

“And so that’s why I think I’m gonna have a new playlist specifically for-”

“hH’NDZJSHH’uu-!”

“Bless. Oh! There’s also something I wanted to tell-”

“eh’gnZSHh’uu-!”

“Bless you! To tell you. So I-”

“kEHDJZ’shuu-! Sorry.”

“Bless yo-”

“hH’DNZSHH’uu-! hDJUZSHH’uu-!”

“Jeez Sho, bless you again, you getting sick?”

“I don- ehh- aiyZSHhh’chuu-! I don’t think so. I don’t feel unwell, just sn… sneehh… hehh-! Sneezy- hah’tdJZSSHH’uu-!”

“Mind if I fact check that one?”

“Go ahead. Can’t say I haven’t- knNXT’chu-! earned it.”

Mic offers a chuckle at the admittance, leaning in to press his lips against Aizawa’s forehead. He offers a light hum at the lack of warmth. ‘I didn’t think I had a fever, but I’ve lied about that in the past… or simply not noticed… so best to let him confirm it anyways.’ Aizawa muses, becoming rapidly aware of the tickle surging through his nose. ‘Why is it so much worse all of a sudden?’

“M- Mic I- hAH-! mmMDJZSHH’uu-! mMZSHH’chu-!”

“Oh, bless you.”

He only manages to aim into Mic’s chest, since it’s right in front of him, before desperately ducking into his scarf. Attempting to mumble out an apology, Aizawa finds only hitches escaping, the words getting overwhelmed on their way out. ‘It won’t- it won’t stop-’

“eH’KNZSHH’uu-! dJZSSHuu-! AIYZSHH’uu-!”

“Woah.”

“hehH- ihhh… hh- inGNZT’chu-! heH’AINT’chu-!”

“Bless you, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know… why is- hh’nGT’chu-! nnGT’chu-! Why is it so bahhhd- hAH’AINZ’chhu-! It- it tickles so… so muhhhch… heH- knNDT’chu-!”

“Blessings again. This seems like an allergy attack.”

“Y- yeahhhh…. hahHH- TNDZSHH’uu-! eh’dnXT’chu-! ‘Scuse me. I agree.”

Taking advantage of a pause, Mic grabs the tissue box from the counter and hands it over. Aizawa pulls a handful, swiping at his eyes before blowing his nose. The noise has Mic wincing, Aizawa quickly following suit as nothing seems to move through his swollen sinuses. ‘This really must be allergies. But… what’s setting me off?’ Despite not voicing it out loud, Mic seems to hear him, continuing the conversation out loud.

“It’s not spring.”

“And you- knnGT’chu-! you know better than to buy me flowers.

“Yep! And I haven’t bought any new scented things… learned that lesson after the lavender candle incident…”

A shudder runs down Aizawa’s spine, eyes rolling as just the reminder sets the tickle ablaze once more, ducking into his fist with a rough “hh’GNZT’chu-!” which Mic blesses. He nods his thanks, wiping at his nose with another tissue. A list starts to form in his mind, anything that could be causing this.

“And we don’t have a dog…”

“Wh- what…?”

“Dogs. hAH- knDJZ’chuu-! I’m also allergic to those.”

Aizawa’s eyebrows raise as Mic freezes, the smile wiping from his face as it starts to pale. ‘Well that’s unusual… Wait a minute… he- he didn’t…’ They stare for a minute, Aizawa feeling a headache start to form as Mic begins to sweat under the gaze. Finally Mic breaks the silence, a sheepish smile starting to form as his glasses slide down his nose.

“Uhh… r- remember when I told you I had… something to tell you…?”

“knETCH’uu-! hH’ZEHDJ’uu-! knGT’chu-! Mic. What did you do.”

“Try to stay calm- I miiight have bought Eri a puppy?”

“heh- djzshh’uuhh-!”

Wiping the tears from his itchy eyes, Aizawa scans Mic, only now noticing the light furs clinging to his clothes. ‘Oh God…. I hope that’s not what I think it is-’ Before he can think it through, his wrist is pressed to his nose, trying to hold off the storm lurking in his ticklish sinuses.

“Zashi. Wehhhre you playing with said pu- puuhhh…puppy?”

Mic’s gaze drops from his, looking down over himself, then frantically meeting Aizawa’s again. The guilt starting to drown his eyes says it all, Aizawa coughing out an itchy sigh as he ducks into his scarf with a couple rapidly tiring sneezes.

“hezshh’uhh-! knggt’chuu-! guhhh…”

“I’m so sorry Sho- Wait, oh shit love. You pressed your face right into my jacket…”

“hehHhh-!”

“The jacket that’s-”

“ihH-! ehhuhhh… huHhH-!”

“-just coated in fur.”

“gehh’KNZSHH’uu-! Don- hNDZSHH’uu-! Don’t say thahhht Z- Zashi… ihh’KNCH’uu-! inZSHH’uu-!”

“Whoops~ sorry again love.”

Grabbing another handful of tissues, Aizawa crushes his nose into them, rubbing it raw as an itchy sigh crawls from his chest, prompting a round of light coughs. Mic flinches, taking a few steps back as Aizawa’s breath catches again. He aims the attack into the tissues, eyes starting to overflow once more.

“aiyzshh’uuhh-! ddzshhhh’uu-! hehh- eh’knnzshh’uu-!”

“I’ll bring it back before Eri gets home so she doesn’t see it.”

“knngt’chuu-!”

“And vacuum the apartment. Why don’t you go hang out at UA until the kids get back to school while I clean.”

“dnZGT’chu-! AINDT’chu-! Probably a good idea. knGT’chu-!”

“Give your nose a little break. I’m sure the little listeners would be happy to pick up some meds while they’re out too.”

“Heh’kdzshh’uu-! Don’t forget to change- ah’djzsh’uuhh-! and wash those clothes.”

“Good call, Sho! Oh- your clothes probably have fur on them too-”

“hhNZSHH’uu-!”

Aizawa groans, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand and his nose with the other, both starting to get a faintly pink hue. ‘Just the word… fur… everything itches so bad…’ Mic winces, leaning forward to lightly bat his hands away without getting the allergen too close.

“I’m sure there’s something at the dorms you could change into, bring those back to be washed.”

“Forget wash- hNGT’chuu-! aiyZSSHh’uhh-! washing. I’m just gonna burn them.”

“And people think I’m the dramatic one.”

Laughter sounds from the energetic man as he rolls his eyes at his grumpy husband. Aizawa simply hitches in response, moaning slightly as Mic places a kiss on the tip of his twitching nose. He pulls up his tissues again, casting a dark look at his husband over the mound, entirely lighthearted in nature.

“ahh’knDJzshh’uu-!”

“You go now dear. I’ll get this all cleaned up.”

“nn’tzshh’uu-!”

Managing a nod, Aizawa stands, grabbing his keys as he massages his nose into the tissues one last time before tossing them in the trash. ‘I’ll ask Midoriya to pick some more up with the meds. And maybe another coffee. I think I’ve earned it.’ Pausing once he reaches the door, Aizawa turns back, shooting Mic a playful glare.

“Maybe we'll stick to cats from now on, okay Hizashi?”

“Crazy cat husbands? I can live with that.

“Ridiculous as ever, dear. heh’NNZSHHdjuu-! Oh christ.”

“Bless you, Shota.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Aizawa steps out, taking a breath of relief as even the stale air of the hallway is a vast improvement to constantly sucking in allergens. Just inside he can hear Mic laughing, a warm smile starting to form in response before he can help it.

I’ll be anything you want, Zashi. As long as I get to be it with you.

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #thank you for the request!! sorry it took a bit haha~~#i promise im working my way through them all!#this one was quite fun- i LOVE me some allergic a/izawa #m/ha #a/izawa #h/izashi #e/rasermic #e/raser #m/ic #snz #snzkink

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goodlucksnez · 3 years

Text

a sky full of stars

Hello everyone so I wrote a er//aserm//ic fiction and it’s 5513 words I know right what the fuck I just kept writing and I didn’t want the story to end but it came to a lovely end

TW WARNING it deals with sui//cide depression,anxiety,panic attacks as well as medical surgery

TO NOTE In the story endeavor is not a hero and is a local tea maker and his wife is the surgeon which I just think it’s cute it comes together in the story it will make sense don’t worry

This is using my original AU with the Quirk flu

And lastly I hope you enjoy it I had a lot of fun riding and it has definitely improved since my last fic enjoy

you can read it on A03 or down below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33360760

How Shouta got here was anyone's guess. Sitting on the edge of the roof of UA looking at the shifting colors as night began to fall around him. As the shades of reds mixed with the blues and yellows, how they washed over the buildings and trees with a gentle golden glow, Shouta closed his eyes and smiled. The tear-stained face of the Pro was hidden from view under foundation and tired eyes. With the still night air, he heard the roof entrance unlock and movement behind him.

“Hello, old friend,” Shouta said not even turning to look at him.

“What the hell are you thinking, step away from the edge now.” Mic's voice boomed over the concrete and echoed in the tranquil night air. “Please, people need you…. I need you.”

Shouta took a deep breath and stood to face his old friend. Mic’s face was panicked and he could see the crumpled note in his hand. Shouta was glad to see his friend one last time. He shook with adrenaline as he spoke in a quiet voice barely louder than a whisper. Years down the road Shouta in the confession of therapy would say he said it this way because whispers make people listen while shouting just falls upon deaf ears.

“All my life, I have been in love with the sky. Even when everything was falling apart around me, the sky was always there for me. I’m glad to see it hasn’t changed. Goodbye old friend.” And he stepped off the roof Mic’s voice echoed in the night sky as Shouta plummeted down and down until darkness.

---

That was five years ago. Shouta had been getting better about talking about his depression and the struggles but the one thing he could not do was hurt Mic again. Hizashi also died that day, his cheery disposition of the world changed, and he hasn’t been the same since. He had improved but Shouta still had guilt deep down but would never admit it. Hizashi's confidence was always so fragile, like a child’s, it took him years to return to radio and music. He once in a foggy drunken state told Shouta that music died the day he fell and all the sounds of the world that created such unique and beautiful different melodies, fused into one agonizing wave of sound that made Hizashi hate music and his Quirk. He had gotten better they both had recovered from that day but if they were both being honest, they were still those scared little Pros inside.

When winter came the vows of in sickness and in health were tested. Hizashi got sick first and Shouta played the role of nursemaid and helped him get better therefore it was no wonder Shouta got sick. When he was a child Shouta would hide under his bed to avoid being seen as sick, he had enough of name-calling at school he did not need it at home too. This continued into his adult life even after the accident 5 years ago.

The next time he had woken up he almost suffered acute heart failure from the number of stress hormones that were immediately pumped through his system as long-term best friend and husband Hizashi better known as Present Mic had busted through the bedroom door with a shout of “Shouta” with his remarkably deafening voice. “Wow were you sleeping?”

As if it would be a shock that he was. He has been up most of the night coughing and generally feeling ill. Shouta was having trouble getting out of bed today as a dull pain racked through his body pulsing through every limb. He merely grunted in response and the strawberry blonde-haired man sat down and rubbed his back.

“Shouta,” he asked his voice worried with concern and suddenly Shouta was back on that roof. He shut his eyes and winced at that memory and shook his head. The movement of his head caused the room to spin and he reached out to grab onto something stable the only thing near him being his husband.

The pressure in his cranium had built itself up to the point where he knew he had to get away to get checked out. Somehow, he had to take a trip to get medicine, the question was how would he succeed with such a mission when Hizashi worried about his every movement.

Mic continued to rub his husband's back. After receiving no answer, his usual jovial expression continued morphing into one of pure concern. “Hey, Shouta are you okay?”

The tired pro sighed but when he went to open his mouth the tickle which had been prominent in his sinuses flared to life and he quickly turned his head to the side gripping the side of the bed as the sneezes ripped through his body.

“Heh-R'SSHH! Hh-Hih-AET’SCHHH! ESCCH!”

Hizashi jumped in surprise. “Woah, many blesses,” he said. “I’m going to pick you up some meds, okay?”

Shouta grabbed his arm and said, “no you barely over being sick, I can get some.”

As he went to put on his shoes, he sniffed back the congestion that was threatening to flow. Hizashi watched him gathering his wallet and keys before hugging him tightly and whispered in his ear.

“I know how you get with these things; I call you in a few hours and you better pick up or you’re in trouble. I love you Sky.”

Shouta hugged him back and said, “I love you to songbird.” And he left the house with the sound of thunder in the sky boomed over him.

---

His feet hurt.

It was a stupid thing to focus on. Stupid because Shouta was still heavily limping his way through darkened alleyways and shuffling through crumpled up newspapers and puddles of...something. His breath came out in ragged gasps, the medicine still clutched close to the chest. Shouta had no idea where he was going. He just kept moving- one hand drifting along chipped brick walls and graffiti-stained cement, something to keep him steady. Focused. Home was the mission but it wasn’t the goal. The goal was-

Freedom from the pain.

His knees buckled and Shouta couldn’t stop himself from tumbling forward. He smacked into a dumpster; the weak thump of a body against rusted metal ringing in his ears. The stench of rotten food clawed its way into his nose; the pain now liquid fire in his veins. Get up Shouta told himself even as his eyes started to flutter close. You have to get up. His fingers twitched; they landed in a puddle of something gross. “Please,” Shouta whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please~” Thunder rolled off in the distance- a heavy, almost shuffling sound. Maybe- maybe he could get clean in the rain? Maybe-----

“Ah, your awake!”

Fuck! Shouta started, brain a sluggish mess. He- the last thing he remembered with solid clarity was collapsing against a dumpster. Rain pattered against the rooftop- a strange melody that did nothing to put the Pro at ease as he stared at the old man before him. He was heavyset, a long red beard neatly trimmed and a topknot giving him off an old school look. Shouta glanced around the room, just a little more awake now. He still felt like shit, wet from the clothes he had when-

“My shoes,” Shouta rasped, gaze falling to his feet. They were bare, his socks neatly placed on the floor with his shoes beside this...futon. A sad, threadbare thing on the floor. It took all he had not to run his hands over himself-no. No injuries. The only thing Shouta wasn’t wearing was his shoes. Shouta inhaled congestion thick and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand. An oven mitt was sitting on the floor between them, a teapot gently clutched in the old man’s hands. “You put band-aids on my heels?”

“I did,” came the quiet hum. ��You’ve traveled quite a way. Those blisters are impressive.”

Shouta’s gaze flicked to the two clay cups- one by his feet, the other next to the old man’s knees. Steam started to curl out of the teapot; a fire Quirk perhaps? “...You’ve got a fire Quirk.”

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’re very observant. Yes, I do. Would you like some tea? I have some delicious Herbal Spring at the moment it might help with that cold you got.”

Shouta eyed the teapot in question- the steam was barely more than a little trickle of a cloud. Could he have poisoned it while I was out? He shrugged, looking away.

“Ah good!” The old man leaned forward to pour tea- Shouta first, then himself. “Herbal Spring is a very fragile tea, you know. Raise the temperature too much and you’ll ruin it. Keep the water too cold, and it loses its flavor.”

Shouta didn’t reach for his cup. He heard the soft clink of China being set down on the oven mitt. He- he saw the near-empty room he was in. “Where am I?”

“My tea shop! Aaah well,” the old man smiled again as he reached for his cup. “Soon to be my tea shop. This is a storeroom of sorts.”

Shouta watched the old man drink first. A happy hum, a deep sip that made the Pro finally reach for his cup. He brought it to his lips, taking a tentative sniff. Even with his blocked nose, it smelled sweet. Shouta took the tiniest of sips; the warm liquid sliding down his parched throat with ease. It had a soft note to it; sweet and almost fruity, enough to make Shouta …breathe. “Who are you?”

“Just a simple tea maker.” Another calm sip, the old man closing his eyes for a moment. “Who are you?”

It...it lacked the same venom that Shouta’s question had. The same cautiousness, an almost feral edge to it. The old man’s question was simple. Calm and steady; Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he took another tentative sip. “No one.”

“It is an honor to meet you, No One.” The teapot was held out like a porcelain olive branch. “More tea?”

Was this...a joke? Shouta bit the inside of his cheek before he held out his cup. There was still plenty of tea left in the small cup and it took all the Pro had not to wince at how hands were still shaking. Hot liquid sloshing about, threatening to go right over the dull rim. Yet...if the old man was going to say anything, he didn’t. He merely poured Shouta more tea, careful to keep the liquid from the rim.

Shouta brought it up to his lips, taking a bigger sip. “You’re,” this time he winced. His throat was still a raspy mess. “You’re not going to ask me why I was outside?”

“Mmm, you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

Shouta watched the teapot be set gently on the oven mitt, the old teamaker once more quietly enjoying his cup. The two sipped their drinks in relative silence- only broken by the steady drumming of the rain overheard and Shouta sniffling. An odd sort of silence, almost peaceful; Shouta wasn’t bombarded with questions. The old tea maker was content to drink his tea; he’d already downed three cups by the time Shouta had managed to finish one. He sneezed 3 harsh sneezes and drank more tea hoping to soothe the throat. The teapot seemed to rise without being asked; a second cup poured, a second cup that Shouta found himself willingly drinking. “Aizawa,” he whispered, staring down at the amber liquid. The Pro’s voice was painfully loud in the quiet. “My name is Aizawa Shouta.”

The old man gently smiled; callused hands curled around his cup. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Aizawa Shouta.”

“What-” Shouta shifted on his futon; the tremors had finally left his hands. “Who are you?”

“Just an old man with wisdom and regrets,” came the happy reply. “You can call me Enji if you wish.”

Enji? It was a familiar way to address someone he’d just met. Right. “...I’m not calling you Enji.”

“Fair enough,” the old man chuckled and there was something warm in his voice that begged the Pro to relax. Maybe he has another Quirk? Can someone have two Quirks?

Shouta glanced down at his cup, his thumbs brushing the rim. “Why are you doing this?”

“Sharing tea with a fascinating stranger is one of life’s true delights~”

That...was not what Shouta was expecting. He frowned; was it too late to make a run for it? He was pretty sure he had strength in his legs now, even if he still felt awful. “That’s some bullshit,” the dark hair huffed, settling on something solid. Something he could trust. He attempted to rise to his feet and he wobbled for a moment. Pain that rolled through Shouta, begging for him to plop his ass back down. “You’re crazy, old man.”

The old man didn’t move from his spot on the floor. He merely hummed, a red eyebrow rising at the uptick of rain against the roof. “You will need a proper raincoat then. You’ll be soaked if you leave now.”

“...You’re not going to stop me?”

“I cannot stop you from your long journey, Shouta. Just as we cannot stop the fire from burning the log or ice freezing a pond.” Shouta watched the old man set his cup down; empty. “But please,” he groaned as he lumbered to his feet and Shouta was pretty sure he heard joints pop. “Let me get you an umbrella at least.”

His chest hurt. Shouta’s throat was stupidly tight. Painfully tight as he stood there, watching Enji dig around in the storeroom for an umbrella. “...You,” Shouta tried to clear his throat. To stop himself from crying like the idiot he was. “You don’t have-”

He shouldn’t have wasted his breath.

The umbrella was pressed into his hands with care. It was an old thing that had seen better days- a raggedy blue thing with a few frayed strands and a scuffed handle. It was old and worn and the most precious thing Shouta had ever held in his life. “Thank you,” the Pro whispered, clutching it close to his chest.

“Of course,” Enji hummed, bowing in return. “Please stay dry.”

---

Shouta descended the step of the tea shop, his body aching with every step. The medicine still clutched to his chest. The words still echoed in his mind. “You tell me when you’re ready.” He found himself walking the feeling of cool water running down his wet body was quite unpleasant. The wind blustered and the rain pattered on the antique umbrella and the way home seemed twice as long as usual. His mind raced, how could a stranger see so clearly into his mind was it that transparent to everyone that he was broken. As his feet hit the sidewalk a single thought crossed his mind. Hizashi. His songbird. His love. He was probably worried sick. As he pulled out his phone, he saw the screen was broken and as the light lit up his face, he could see 54 unread messages. Fuck. He ran, he didn’t even notice the tightening of his chest and the pain in his limbs, as he rounded the corner almost slipping on the wet pavement. He saw the lightly tan building of his home; the outside light was still on. As he unbolted the door and took a step inside, his heartbeat deafening in his ears, a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him inside.

As Shouta panted, Hizashi's grip gets getting tighter and tighter. No words were said but the silence spoke volumes. Shouta felt tears spring to his eyes and choked back a sob as Hizashi guided him to the living room sofa and sat him down. Wordlessly Hizashi began to take Shouta's shoes off, gently searching his dark eyes for some kind of answer of where he was. Shouta could not meet his gaze, and just shook from the wet clothes and clutched the sofa tighter. Hizashi nodded and went off down the hall. He returned a moment later with fluffy towels and the first words were spoken.

“Out of those clothes.” Shouta blushed but did as he was told and as each soaked article of clothing was removed from his body it was replaced with a warm fluffy towel. However, it didn’t stop his shivering and Hizashi started rubbing the frozen skin of his lover. After a few minutes, Hizashi suddenly stopped and stood up, turning his back from Shouta.

Suddenly the blond jolted forward. “heh… ehh…. heh'ISSShooo!" and went into the kitchen to grab a box of tissues.

As he sheepishly returned and met the gaze of his husband, he muttered an apology. “Sorry.”

Shouta was at a loss for words. Why was he sorry? It was not his fault Shouta got sick, not his fault he was broken. He had done everything right, Shouta was wrong. He blinked in rapid succession before finding his voice. The voice of Enji filled his head ‘When you’re ready. He spoke with a voice broken and small.

“The day that the rain smelled like ice cream, my cat went to heaven in front of my eyes. The day that the copper pipes in the old building smelled like burnt food, my best friend... went to heaven in front of my eyes. I couldn't save them. It's sad. Neither one had the chance to become an adult. They should have become adults. They should have had children of their own and loved those children. And I want to make that possible for other people. So don’t be sorry. You saved me. I love you.”

He had never expressed that amount of raw emotion in his whole life, not even to his therapist but it felt right. The nerves he felt flowed out of him as his tears decorated his face. As he sat covered in the towel he sobbed, all the emotions he had been holding released like the steam from that teapot that brought him warmth not a few hours before.

Hizashi cradled him, as his body racked with sobs, gently like how a mother would cradle a baby, pausing to kiss him and repeat gentle nothings. As Shouta began to wind down, all the strength he had been pretending he had disappeared and he slumped against Mic and closed his eyes and soon unconsciousness took him.

Shouta slept for hours it seemed like. Each dream he had was confusing and odd as if he had two brains competing for the dream. His tired muscles ached and the dull pain between his eyes had increased to a dull migraine. Truth be told he felt awful. But soon his body had had enough and he felt the being of a sneeze. He tried to hold back for a while longer but found it futile. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling as the tickle reached its climax.

“Eschht, Eschht eh ugh sniff heh hhh AET’SCHHH!”

The last sneeze ripped through him with such force all the blankets and towel that had kept him warm fell off of him and he was left sniffling chest exposed to the room and his husband who look just as surprised as himself.

“Goodness bless you Sho, you have caught my cold.”

The tired man just groaned and said with a voice still raspy and strained “Not a cold, it's probably the flu, I should have told you sooner, I just- ugh sniff again heh hhh Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

With the last sneeze, he felt his Quirk go haywire and soon his hair was floating above him and his eyes had turned a red hue. Luckily for him, no one was in the radius but he still felt awful. A hero could only depend on two things in this world, their Quirk and the one they loved. If Shouta could take one of those away without realizing it, it could mean trouble.

Mic had knelt in front of the laying down Pro and gently cupped a tissue around his husband's nose. “Bless your hon, come on blow for me.”

Shouta did a wet gurgling blow and groaned as the Quirk deactivated his dry eyes yearning for water. Mic dabbed at Shouta slowly being red nose and stood. He made his way over to the linen closet and grabbed the warmest winter sweater and returned to his sick husband.

“Arms up you know the drill.” As Mic helped the Pro get dressed, he called out to Siri.

“Hey, Siri, text Doctor Green we are coming in an hour.” As Shouta's head came through the sweater hole he simply frowned. This Doctor had treated him after the accident but was a close friend of theirs. As Siri confirmed the appointment Mic sensed Shouta's discomfort and replied to him. “I know sweetie you don’t like the doctor but you know he can help better than over-the-counter drugs. He continued and I will be there the whole time.”

Shouta shook his head. “Together,” he said in a small voice

Mic helped the sickly Pro stand and guided him to the mirror next to the door and kissed him on his flushed skin. “Forever Together.”

The train ride for the first leg of the journey was uneventful. The hum of the fluorescent lights and the moving subway train was distracting enough to distract other passengers from Shouta's constant sniffling. Mic was stood holding on to the overhead bar while Shouta was sitting with his head in his hands. Mic was constantly asking if Shouta needed anything even though he would not be able to provide much relief besides encouraging words. As the overhead speakers announced their stop Mic helped Shouta stand as the train came to a hard stop be cursed in English as Shouta stumbled forward again him.

The misty afternoon after the rainstorm was heavy in the air but still, Shouta shivered a clear sign of a fever and the couple picked up the pace to the doctors. As they rounded a corner a few blocks away they were met with the flashing blue and red of a line of police cars. As heroes, they knew a situation was happening. Mic half dragging Shouta went to them who seemed to be in charge of the crowd of citizens and asked what was happening. The short man with light brown hair replied with the normal answer for any citizen. “Nothing to worry about Sir heroes will handle it.” Mic frowned and dug in his pocket and grabbed his Hero license and flashed it at the man. Taken aback the man quickly responded. “Oh, um sorry, a Jewelry store has been taken hostage, he paused before continuing “my chief might need an extra few hand…he paused and looked at the struggling man Mic was holding up “is he also able to help.” Mic didn’t have time for this and he ducked below the police tape and began walking to the line of cop cars. Shouta followed but sluggishly. As he neared the chief of the police, he quickly scanned the street. He could see the jewelry store in question had a broken window and was heavily surrounded by local heroes as well as other members of the police task force. As Shouta caught up his eyes were half-closed and looked like he was going to pass out any second. Before Mic could attend to Shouta a round of gunshots filled the air and out of instinct he grabbed both of them and they hit the pavement hard. After a few moments, he helped Shouta lean against a cop car tire and checked over his body. ‘No wounds’ Mic thought ‘I don’t have time for this we need to get through this street.’

Mic looked at the task force and saw the numbers had decreased whoever was in the store had an amble firearm. As a local hero approached the car Mic asked what the status was and what they know. The local hero stating that the man inside the store had a bullet-type quirk and could shoot many rounds of ammo and was demanding everyone to leave and no one would get hurt.

Mic thought ‘a bullet type quirk, like Pro hero Edgeshot’ Mic continued to question. Did they have any other people with them? The local hero shook his head no they are alone. Mic could work with this. He waved over the chief, a man he had worked with a few other times.

If they could stop the man quirk do, they have enough to help the hostages and defeat the villain. The chief simply nodded his head and Mic set to work.

He gently shook the arm of Shouta who barely raised his head. “Hey love I know you are exhausted but we need you Quirk right now can you aim your Quirk over to the storefront.

Shouta tried Mic had to give him credit for that, but as soon his hair started to rise it quickly fell. Shouta mumbled a response thick with congestion. “I. Can’t…tired”

Mic rubbed his arms in understanding and replied “What about if we use your illness as an advantage, you can’t control when it happens right, what if we use that.”

Shouta turned to look at Mic. “What are you suggesting?”

Before he could reply another round of gunshot shot at them and he quickly covered Shouta's body with his. He immediately felt the sharp pain as a bullet entered him under his ribs, and he could feel the blood start to spill. With an adrenaline-filled body, he quickly pulled Shouta into a somewhat kneeling position and aimed his head toward the storefront. “I’m sorry about this love this isn’t going to be big on dignity.”

He grabbed the end of his ponytail and brought the split ends to the underside of Shouta's nose. The already irritated organ began to twitch as the strands of hair slowly twisted around.

Shouta tried to ignore the incessant prodding of the frizzy hair against his sensitive nose, but with each swipe, the tiny hairs that shook loose were soon sucked up into his twitching and quivering nostrils. He shuddered and froze in place a tear slowly trailed down from his eye to his cheek as his nose began scrunching and wriggling from the irritation.

“Come on Shouta you can do it,” Mic said. Shouta’s chest heaved and he couldn't help but give in to the itchy and tickly urge to expel those irritants from his nostrils.

“H...hhih...” The beginnings of a sneeze showed as his eyes began to droop. His chest expanded further “Haaahhh! Aaahhhh!” His eyes fully closed, head tilting back and signaling the oncoming release. Mic aimed his face toward the storefront and sent a silent prayer that this would work.

“Hit'choo!! Hih-tschh!! Hihh…hih-tsCHEW!”

As Shouta sneezed his hair lifted with ease and soon the storefront was temperately Quick free. Mic activated his Quirk and told the task force to go. Shouta was still panting from sneezing but his eyes were open however Mic didn’t know how long he could keep them open. As the task force ran in the subject found his Quirk would not activate and soon found himself being put in handcuffs and a medical device being placed that would stop his Quirk without the help of Erasure.

As Mic received the thumbs up, he spoke to his shaking husband who was struggling to keep his eyes open. “Bless your hon you did it, you can relax now.” As Shouta did all the energy slipped from him and he lost consciousness and slumped over on the wet pavement. Mic grabbed the fragile man and began to walk to the nearest ambulance, as he stepped into the back of the ambulance the medic and himself helped Shouta into the gurney, and soon the siren wailed and they were finally off to their destination.

As they entered the hospital fast lane and the medic was ready to receive both of the ProS, Mic was insistent to be placed near Shouta as he wasn’t comfortable around hospitals. The medic nodded and escorted them to their joined room. Shouta was seen to first. They took blood and gave him fluids; they also provide pain medicine and sadly they had to wait until he woke up.

Mic surgery was quickly scheduled. He met with the surgeon while sitting next to Shouta and rubbing his arm. The female was fairly tall and had blue tint to her eyes and white hair. She explained the surgery before Mic consented.

“Upon examination, we identified 1 cm diameter entry wound at the left lower abdominal wall, Sir. The images we took showed the bullet in the peritoneal cavity but no injured intraperitoneal and retroperitoneal viscera. We decided to remove the bullet laparoscopically.” Mic nodded. She noticed the band around his finger and smiled. “How long have you two been together?”

Mic smiled and replied “4-year next month, but I have known since we were 14 that this is what we both needed.” He paused before swallowing hard “We've been through a lot but I can’t imagine life without him. He is my whole life, my Sky. He bent down and kissed the sleeping man's hand. The surgeon smiled and spoke “I see, well that must be hard with both of you rushing into battle all the time,” she looked down at her clipboard before continue “I have treated a lot of patients in my day but never have I seen a love quite like your, it’s very special.” A monitor beeped and the surgeon motioned him to follow. “Well, shall we take care of the bullet Mr. Hizashi. Mic kissed Shouta’s hand before leaving the room.

Shouta was hot. It was too bright wherever he was. His mind was foggy. He groaned as he sat up, he immediately recognized the smell of a hospital. What happened. The last thing he remembers is the sound of gunshots and Hizashi…Shit Hizashi he jerked into a sit-up position and looked around. The nurse that had been changing his fluid jumped back. “Calm down you’re okay! Just relax.”

“Where is he…what happened?” He asked rage filling his croaky voice. The nurse replied, “Sir he is in surgery he will be out soon don’t worry he is okay.” She laid him back against the pillows before continuing “We need to make sure you’re okay Sir make sure you don’t have a concussion. He pulled out a light and shown it in his eye without much warning. The tickle flared to life and he turned his head.

“Issh’iIEWW!....hhh..heh… “TSCHTIEW” Thankfully his Quirk did not activate he wiped his nose on the back of his arm as the nurse apologized.

“Sorry Sir, but the good news is you don’t have a concussion so you will be out of here as soon as we can get some medicine and your husband is awake.”

Shouta relaxed slightly and closed his eyes and tried to keep the panic from getting too much to handle. Within the next 2 hours, Shouta tried to not be a bother to any of the staff but his flu had proven a little too much for him to handle.

As a nurse with a gravity-type quirk was walking down the hall with floating plates of dinner, he groaned as another tickle forced him to sneeze and he felt his quirk activate and he heard the crash as the dinner plates fell and crashed on the floor. Many of the nurses were understanding but he still felt awful. When his husband was wheeled into his room Shouta's eyes began to water and he had to fight back tears. The surgeon explained the surgery was a success and he would be discharged later today. She told Aizawa in a voice soft and comforting. “He loves you so much, you are a very lucky man.” She sat on the edge of his bed and looked into his eyes. “I know you feel broken but he is trying so hard to make sure you are taken care of. The world is a cruel place and I know you have suffered more than most. But know this, he loves you and has sworn to protect you. You might be a Hero to the public but he is your Hero, let him save you. She wiped a tear from her eye and turned to leave. Before leaving the room, she said “Oh and you have a gift make sure to grab it before leaving.” And placed a small box on the counter next to the door before leaving him.

When Hizashi woke and passed all the discharge tests and Shouta had his medicine they left the hospital holding each other’s hand and holding a box of tea that they would use for the rest of their life.

The end.

#Vic writes #vicwrites #bnha fic #fanfic #my fanfiction #My fic #sneezefanfic #sneezefic #sneeze fic #mysneezefic #bnhafanfic

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