[ A hastily grabbed backpack, an uncaring half-glance in the mirror at his unshakeable permanent bedhead, and an annoying uber driver later, there's a teenager wandering down main street looking for his friend. One hand in the pocket of his jeans, he yawns lazily into the other. Stop the presses: the mess of insomnia commonly known as Shinsou Hitoshi is tired. Something of a default state of being when you're beyond the point of even bothering to try getting more than a few hours of sleep most nights.
Okay, what did Yuri say he was wearing? An American flag bath towel or blanket or something? Lazy eyes scan the area as he walks, one earphone in as a relic of a failed attempt to avoid interacting with the aforementioned annoying uber driver, until - ah. There he is. A little ways ahead, with his back to him.
Yep. Baby All Might.
It would be easy to hurry up a little and catch up to Yuri. Offer him the change of clothes Hitoshi so thoughtfully brought with him, because he wasn't sure if he'd need them or not - even though they're for his own six foot frame and would look fairly ridiculous on the little skater. Then pancakes, which he'd already been resigned to paying for. It would be so easy to be a really good friend right now.
What Hitoshi actually does is snigger to himself and pull out his phone to send another text. ]
( Yuri's day is not shaping up according to the plan he'd carefully constructed the night before, and for the first time in what feels like forever? It definitely isn't his fault. Anton, his idiot friend, was supposed to spend the day with him after their night out, not ditch Yuri half-way through the evening for a pair of longer, browner legs. It didn't spoil the night entirely (Yuri is actually pretty good at making friends when he's had a few drinks), but the final straw had been when he woke up to the sound of Anton and a giggle.
Fuck that. F-u-c-k that.
High-tailing it out of the window had seemed like a great idea at the time, but Yuri is now acutely aware of the fact that he looks like he's in the middle of a Walk Of Shame. His clothes from the night before are creased and nowhere near suitable for the daytime: he's wearing a shredded black tank-top emblazoned with a rhinestone tiger's head and skin-tight ripped black jeans, and because he's having his teenage goth phase he's also sporting about six different glittery crucifixes. It's a Look, okay? Fuck Vitya and his "timeless classics" - Yuri is tacky garbage and he knows it.
He's pressing the heel of his hand into his mascara smudged eye when his phone pings again. The blanket slips down one shoulder with how suddenly he jerks his head up to look around, and there he is, fucking Hitoshi, looking tired and smug but still like the lifeline Yuri sorely needs right now. )
Asshole!
( Cramming his phone into his back pocket, Yuri tightens the blanket around his shoulders as he marches towards him, looking for all the world like a Hot Topic advert that got dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair, half pulled into a bun on top of his head, slips down into his face, and he brushes it behind his ear with a frustrated growl as he glares up at Hitoshi.
... Fuck tall people. He's long since resigned himself to the fact that he's never breaking 5'5", but fuck tall people. )
I hate my friends. C'mon, where are we eating?
( Which is Yuri-speak for "thanks for coming to get me", honest. )
[ A Look, huh. Yeah, from where Hitoshi's standing (all the way up here), it's definitely... something. Yuri is the image of I wasn't planning on still being out at this point, and Hitoshi is suddenly much more grateful for his comfortable if nondescript t-shirt, jeans and jacket combo. He's never going to make the cover of GQ, sure - but he's also never going to make the cover of What The Hell Is That Guy Wearing Monthly, and that seems like a pretty fair tradeoff. ]
Love you too.
[ He sniggers again, turning to lead his friend back the way he came. He'll tell him about the change of clothes in his backpack later. There's something fiercely cute about Yuri's night time allure all roughed up and exposed to the cold light of day. Something dissonant about that magic made abruptly human that some strange part of Hitoshi kind of enjoys - even if he's not quite mean enough to drag it out for too long. ]
You still want pancakes? I know a place that does good ones.
[ And by 'good', he means of course that they're tasty, but no small part of his appreciation is down to the fact that they make them with little cat designs. Yeah, he's a sucker for cats. ]
( Perhaps Yuri's favourite thing about Hitoshi is the fact that he doesn't make a fuss. It's one of the reasons why he and Otabek became such firm friends so quickly: Yuri is horrifically extra, and all of the people he knows are insane, and it's just - it's nice to be around someone who isn't going to freak out as much as he is. It makes him feel normal. Calmer. More inclined to take a few deep breaths instead of rage-quitting over something minor. )
Yeah, I'm starving.
( His stomach growls as if on cue, which Yuri tries to cover by drawing the blanket around him again. The prospect of good pancakes - any pancakes - is wonderful to him, and he privately hopes it isn't too far. He might start gnawing on Hitoshi's arm if he doesn't get fed soon. )
Do you have stuff to to today? I get it if you just want to drop me off, or whatever.
( Yuri stays close to Hitoshi, as though his nearby proximity will help to deflect some of the raised eyebrows he can feel being thrown to him by the general public. He's too tired and uncomfortable to flip everyone off like he usually would, and it's nice to have a bit of support in the form of his friend.
... And it's great that he's as crazy for cats as he is, but. That's just a bonus. )
[ Hitoshi really is batting a thousand at this point. Doing whatever it is he did to his friend last night - god, that's still definitely bothering him - and then immediately appearing weirdly half-naked out of nowhere. No wonder Nisaka seems so... awkward. It's not so much worse than normal, but the lack of eye-contact is telling.
He comes across to sit on the couch, keeping what's hopefully a respectable distance. It's not, admittedly, a huge couch. ]
... Honestly, if you leave it up to me, I'll end up getting pizza.
[ It's not really breakfast time so much anymore, but it's definitely too early for pizza. Except if you're still fighting a fucker of a hangover and your body is craving that good, good grease. ]
[ no, it's not a very big couch at all, and hitoshi isn't exactly a noodle like nisaka here. the latter is very, very aware of the rising body heat coming off of the former's body, or the fact that his own face is still very, very warm.
his hands are down on his knees now, idly picking at the fabric of his pants. he smiles faintly, amused despite himself. ]
[ He smiles sidelong at his friend, pulling his phone out. Good old Dominos app. He makes a mental note as he hits yes when it asks if he wants extra cheese - he'll have to put in extra training hours to burn this off. And the alcohol from yesterday, too. But that's a problem for future Hitoshi. ]
Here, you can put yours in.
[ He hands over his phone and leans in a little bit to watch, curious for no real reason. And because he knows there are fairly incriminating texts on that thing. Just because there's no way he thinks Nisaka is going to go looking at where Kaminari has been repeatedly trying to tell him dude you should just ask him out like things are ever that easy, doesn't mean the possibility doesn't exist.
Heroes are... supposed to be vigilant, and take precautions against all possible outcomes. Or something. ]
[ nisaka — by some kind of miracle — manages not to have a complete aneurysm when hitoshi leans in, invading what little space they'd had left between them in the first place. he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, holding it as he does his best to act as calmly and normally as possible.
he puts in his default toppings — pepperoni and mushroom — and he's just about to hand it back to the other boy when it happens.
no, not the accidental reading of any old, incriminating text messages.
but rather the accidental reading of a present incriminating text message, thanks to the aforementioned kaminari, which reads:
WSIT SRSLT HES IN UR PLACE?? DUDE
nisaka freezes, staring at the notification taking up half the screen, forgetting how to breathe. there's more to the message that he can't read without clicking on it and god he's so tempted— ]
...For you.
[ his expression is blank as he finally hands the phone back to hitoshi, as if afraid to even be outwardly curious. ]
[ He wakes up and looks up at the ceiling. It's a dorm ceiling. Just like every morning. But he rolls over to reach for his phone. Is that what his alarm always sounded like?
And that's when the sheets come into focus.
These are not his sheets.
What the fuck is going on.
He rips the sheets back to stand and. He's taller. He's not in his pajamas. He takes a good hard look down at himself and he's not in his own body
So he runs to the mirror and is faced with.... Shinsou Hitoshi. Great.
He yanks up the phone and thank god it has a thumbprint passcode. ]
[ It's one of those rare times that Hitoshi actually sleeps, and sleeps well. So of course when he wakes up, he has no idea where he is. These are not his rarely-used sheets. This is not his beautiful wife, et cetera.
This is, also, not his body.
It's... shorter. Stocky. He feels... sweaty. The mirror almost seems to laugh at him as it confirms the literal worst case scenario. The mostly-naked body of Bakugou Katsuki.
Fantastic. ]
I'm up.
[ Thumbprint passcode? Not so lucky. But of course the four digit number is 0420 - Bakugou's birthday. ]
If I can get into it, so could a villain. Your birthday is a shitty choice.
[ For Hitoshi's part, there's already a dilemma. Bakugou's sweat thing feels legitimately disgusting, but not only would getting in the shower in someone else's body be kind of an invasion of privacy... well, he's not sure he's ready to see exactly what the reality of those dreams he's been having looks like. ]
I have no idea, but I'd like that back, if you don't mind.
[All things considered, Dead Weight wasn't the worst roommate he could have been saddled with. For one thing, Dead Weight was more active during the night while Bakugo's patrols had him up early in the morning so their schedules never really conflicted. He was quiet, kept to himself, and didn't try to be all buddy-buddy with him, which suited Bakugo just fine. Considering Kirishima had been angling to be his roommate, which would have been fine but would have left Bakugo with no privacy or peace, Dead Weight wasn't a terrible choice.
The weekly meeting with his agency had run far later than Bakugo would have liked and had cut into his meal prep time, so he was in a foul mood when he got home. A bit noisier than usual, he had started chopping everything up and clanking pots and pans around, swearing angrily under his breath. One of the newbies hadn't stopped talking about having recently met their soulmate the ~organic~ way and had kept them over, as if the topic wasn't stupid enough.
Unfortunately that sort of idiocity was catching, and Bakugo had even seen fucking Deku shyly scrawling notes onto his arm and smiling at the responses he received. Gross.
Even with all the noise he was making, he still heard Dead Weight's door open, and he cast his eyes up briefly to nod at him.]
[ In all honesty, Hitoshi had expected rooming with Bakugou to be a special kind of hell. Loud and irritating and inconsiderate, at the very least. He'd expected to have to hole up in his room much more often, that blinds would be left open during the day without a thought because of course you don't think about how much you interact with sunshine when it doesn't kill you - but it's actually been surprisingly bearable.
(Sunshine won't kill him anyway, not as easily as that. Not unless he decides to bask in direct summer rays for the afternoon. It hurts, though, and that's enough. He'd really rather not deal with a week's worth of sunburn because he dared to venture out into the hallway.)
They actually don't see one another very often. There's no overlap at work, because even if their agencies teamed up what possible combination could Brainwash make with someone whose quirk is so irritatingly loud it's a genuine wonder he's not suffering some kind of hearing loss himself? Nobody can follow instructions they can't hear, and try as he might all the way through school, Hitoshi can't make it work on paper. So they're about as far apart as it's possible for two heroes to be, professionally. It just so happened that they both needed the space here. And Hitoshi's other option for a roommate was Monoma Neito.
Definitely not.
But today is, for some reason, different. You know how annoying it is when you wake up to find that it's half an hour before your alarm is supposed to wake you? You're not getting any more decent sleep in that time. And it's hard enough for an insomniac to get any in the first place. So yes, when he opens the door, he has reason to be vaguely annoyed. He doesn't even bother answering the question. ]
Whatever villain you're looking for isn't hiding in the saucepan.
[While Bakugo could be surprisingly civil at times, if Dead Weight was going to come at him first thing with attitude, Bakugo wasn't going to bother with manners. He made sure to snap the last few lids of the tupperware as loudly as possible without breaking eye contact, sneering slightly.]
Isn't it time for you to get up and get ready soon anyway?
[Though he didn't usually pay attention to the lives of others unless he had to, it was difficult not to know the gist of someone's schedule when you were living together.]
[ Sleeping Beauty. Creative. Hitoshi rolls his eyes expressively and leans against the doorframe, arms folded. ]
Touching that you're keeping tabs on my sleep schedule. But no, not for another half an hour.
[ He blinks slowly, and it's only partly because he's deliberately going for and you should feel sorry about that, for the record. The rest of it is general fatigue. He needs caffeine, which is mostly all he uses the kitchen for in the first place, and to feed - but while he does have to keep blood in the house, he's at least considerate enough to keep a mini fridge in his bedroom for that.
[ What, exactly, is the etiquette involved in paying to fuck a classmate?
Not a question Hitoshi thought he'd ever have to ask himself. But then again, he didn't expect to stumble almost completely by accident across what - after making a couple of curious inquiries from an anonymous email address - he's now fairly sure is Kaminari Denki's business page. Maintaining an online presence is something that most pro heroes have to think about these days (not him, he's not bothering with any of that, not any kind of public persona) - but Kaminari isn't a pro. He's a first year. And most heroes' business pages don't mention private companionship services.
Still, he supposes they're not actually classmates yet. It'll be another five or so months before they're even in the same department.
It's a bad idea anyway. An incredibly bad idea. At first that was what he'd told himself, and that in his mind had been the end of it. It was just a thing he happened to know about. He wasn't even going to tell Kaminari he'd found it. What would be the point anyway? ... Well, the point would have been to warn him that maybe it's a little too easy to find in general. But apparently Hitoshi isn't quite as good of a person as he'd like to think, because he'd gotten into sort of a habit of just looking at it every so often. Just... seeing if it was still there. And there it always was. He'd convinced himself quite well that he wasn't actually considering anything.
And then he managed to pass his de-facto second entrance exam into Heroics, despite being fully sure he'd bombed it spectacularly.
Is it still possible to say you did something on the spur of the moment when it involved employing the use of the one piece of support equipment that the one teacher who ever believed you could do it jumped through several hoops to acquire for you? That's another question Hitoshi isn't going to ask himself. There are actually quite a few of them now. He just didn't want Kaminari to know it was him on the phone, that's all. It's not like he's going to actually disguise himself in person. That makes it less weird, surely? He's not making any weird demands. He's just here, at the hotel they'd arranged to meet at, with a lot more money in his wallet today than any sixteen year old carries around with them. He gives his alias at the desk, takes the elevator up to room 1104, and...
... puts his hood up to hide his eyes before knocking on the door. There's a peephole. He wants to at least see him first, if he's just going to slam the door in his face anyway. ]
[Everyone in the heroics course had gotten a bit heady with attention after the sports festival. In a lot of cases, it was just the pure excitement of various pros being interested in them professionally. Some of the girls had complained that there was less professional commentary and all the other guys had acted like that was surprising and crude. Denki had to just keep his mouth shut because- wait, the other guys hadn't gotten suggestive messages??]
[Maybe it was how he ended up tied up in vines at the end of his fight. Maybe he was just the most good-looking guy in class? He intended to ignore it but for every few gross messages there were one or two that were... actually flattering. There were one or two he actually got a bit hot in the face reading. And then there was one that came with all that and a cash offer.]
[He made a separate social media account with pictures that didn't show his face. He'd have 2-3 meetings a month and post request pictures in-between for pocket money. It worked out pretty well. As a hero in training, you didn't really have time to flirt with people outside your classmates. If you got lucky, there was a joint training exercise and you got to flirt with people in the other classes. Denki struck out on that plenty so- this was enough.]
[That was the sort of idea he had in his head when he got a call from a new client.]
[As much trouble as he could get in for this sort of thing, the same went for people on the other end. He'd seen exaggerated sunglasses and trenchcoats so, when he checks through the peephole and sees someone with their hood pulled up- it checks out. He opens the door.]
Hey, you made it. Come on in.
[It's an easy, casual greeting, the kind of thing where no one would think some sketchy business was going on. Denki's already changed from his uniform (super incriminating, he's not that dumb) into a black tank-top and a pair of gym shorts that Hitoshi might recognize from pictures on the page. They were, perhaps, enticingly short, and there is a good moment to realize that as he heads back into the room and sits at the edge of the bed.]
[ Hitoshi is actually a little surprised not to be immediately recognized. Well, he supposes he at least wasn't stupid enough to wear purple today. He'd thought going with black would look suspicious - did he overthink this, maybe? - so in the end it'd been a fairly nondescript navy blue hoodie over his jeans and t-shirt combo. The only other option was a pink one with cat ears on it, so.
God, but it really is actually him, huh. He'd been 95% sure before, but...
He tries to tell himself he has no idea where he might have seen those exact stupid shorts before. They look even better on him in person than they did in the pictures, which is generally unfair as a concept, because they'd looked pretty amazing then too. For a second he thinks about staying quiet, keeping his chin down for now. But he didn't come here to be shy about this. It's a little awkward, maybe - but it's a business transaction, right? Kaminari's selling, so he's buying. And who says he shouldn't?
In the end he's almost aggressively casual about it. Pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans with one hand and pushing his hood back with the other. ]
[ Most incubi are essentially the same. Frisky little assholes who jump at the chance to feed off any human of their preferred gender or genders at the drop of a hat. If creatures who feed exclusively off of energy could get fat from it, most of them would be. It's not only a source of sustenance but actively a pastime.
Hitoshi supposes he can't exactly blame them.
He doesn't like it, though. The idea of looking at humans and seeing something partway between a toybox and an endless free buffet. What are they supposed to do when you're done with them, when you throw them away? It seems shitty that no one cares about that. He's been known to follow along behind some of his thousands of brothers (and sisters, because succubi are no better), doing what he can to help the poor idiots they leave behind. He never shows himself, just... if someone with a vague but concerning memory of dreaming about being ravished by a cute demon just so happens to find some money in the street the next day, or have their utility bill cut due to a 'special promotion' all of a sudden... who's gonna know?
(He doesn't really do the utility bill thing anymore. Apparently you can't just use your compulsion on a couple of employees and expect that to work out. There are systems about it these days and the person you were trying to help out ends up having to pay it all back, which is annoying and the opposite of the point of doing it in the first place.)
Still, he does run into the snag of the simple fact that he can't hold off forever.
He goes as long as he can. Weeks, months. He can scrape by sometimes by trying to catch the residual energy coming off some of the others, when they've fed more than they ever needed, because as mentioned before they're frisky little assholes. But sometimes it just comes down to it, and there's nothing you can do. Nothing other than what the rest of them do - appear in the bedroom of whatever human you've decided to use tonight and exert a little magic restraint to hold them still.
One of the others had their eye on this one. He's stepping on toes and he'll catch hell for it later (hah), but... he's so young. And so pretty. And something in Hitoshi had made him immediately want to pull the rug out from under his brother, just this one time.
... He's supposed to just do it, now. Now that he has him. But he freezes when their eyes meet, and just sort of hovers there in the air, looking at him like he just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ]
[ Kaminari Denki was just going about his life. Minding his business. Nothing out of the ordinary in any way. Hero work, you know. Not exactly normal but it was his ordinary. He's trying to get relaxed but you know. For the past few days he's felt more... excited than usual. He's not really sure why? Maybe it's just been a while. He feels pent up.
There's a noise, though. A pop and a really ... hot guy?! Now in his room. What the fuck is this. He goes to move, ready with those fast reflexes from hero work. But it's not fast enough. He's now immobilized. The pressure of restraints is there without any physical thing. And the hot guy just keeps hovering. Hovering?!
What the fuck is this. What villain group does he work for-- Why does he look so nervous. ]
Hey?
[ Doesn't help that, at this very moment, he is rock fucking hard. It might be waning a little now, but his phone that was now dropped on the bed is still playing the porn he was greatly enjoying. Thank god the sound was at least off. ]
[ He could win an award here, probably. Absolute least impressive ways to lead when you're trying to feed off a creature barely able to defend itself against you.
The phone draws his attention, and he leans down to scoop it up off the bed, watching the muted video with an eyebrow raised in interest. Probably not what he should be doing right now, but the sexual habits of humans left to their own devices are genuinely interesting. It's so different for them. They don't actually need it. Out of pure curiosity he turns the sound on, too. ]
... You actually watch this stuff?
[ Porn is such a weird idea. A view of sex but with the sexual energy closed off. In his mind it's sort of like eating cardboard. ]
[ There is a Rule in this house - well, there are actually a fair few. But the important one right now is that you don't lock bedroom doors for safety, which makes it just as important that you don't open a closed one without permission, no matter who it belongs to. It's a good system, especially given that the adults in the house respect it entirely. Hitoshi honestly didn't think Eri would be as quick to grasp it as she was... but then he remembers that her whole world was closed doors before, and has to stop thinking about it before he gets angry.
Anyway, this all means that a gloomy, hunched over teenager is really happy to come out of his room and see that his dads' bedroom door is open.
He can't tell who's in there right away, but it doesn't really matter. He'd talk to either of them or both. Mostly he just wants to be validated right now anyway. So he drags himself sullenly into the room and without a word, lets himself fall face-first onto the vacant half of the bed. ]
[ Aizawa was texting away on his phone. Paying bills, shit talking with/to Hizashi.
Then, suddenly, his bed is half full of a teenage son. He has to be upset. Why else would he be in here like this. He makes no movement yet. Just looks away from his phone to observe him and try and gather as much information as possible. ]
[ At first he just grunts into the pillow, and for a second it seems like that might be all. But no, he does want to talk about it. It's not like he wouldn't have come in here just for wordless comfort if he needed that, but right now what he wants is to be told that he's not a jerk for being upset. ]
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rescue mission / tigerprint
[ A hastily grabbed backpack, an uncaring half-glance in the mirror at his unshakeable permanent bedhead, and an annoying uber driver later, there's a teenager wandering down main street looking for his friend. One hand in the pocket of his jeans, he yawns lazily into the other. Stop the presses: the mess of insomnia commonly known as Shinsou Hitoshi is tired. Something of a default state of being when you're beyond the point of even bothering to try getting more than a few hours of sleep most nights.
Okay, what did Yuri say he was wearing? An American flag bath towel or blanket or something? Lazy eyes scan the area as he walks, one earphone in as a relic of a failed attempt to avoid interacting with the aforementioned annoying uber driver, until - ah. There he is. A little ways ahead, with his back to him.
Yep. Baby All Might.
It would be easy to hurry up a little and catch up to Yuri. Offer him the change of clothes Hitoshi so thoughtfully brought with him, because he wasn't sure if he'd need them or not - even though they're for his own six foot frame and would look fairly ridiculous on the little skater. Then pancakes, which he'd already been resigned to paying for. It would be so easy to be a really good friend right now.
What Hitoshi actually does is snigger to himself and pull out his phone to send another text. ]
Stars and stripes suit you.
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( Yuri's day is not shaping up according to the plan he'd carefully constructed the night before, and for the first time in what feels like forever? It definitely isn't his fault. Anton, his idiot friend, was supposed to spend the day with him after their night out, not ditch Yuri half-way through the evening for a pair of longer, browner legs. It didn't spoil the night entirely (Yuri is actually pretty good at making friends when he's had a few drinks), but the final straw had been when he woke up to the sound of Anton and a giggle.
Fuck that. F-u-c-k that.
High-tailing it out of the window had seemed like a great idea at the time, but Yuri is now acutely aware of the fact that he looks like he's in the middle of a Walk Of Shame. His clothes from the night before are creased and nowhere near suitable for the daytime: he's wearing a shredded black tank-top emblazoned with a rhinestone tiger's head and skin-tight ripped black jeans, and because he's having his teenage goth phase he's also sporting about six different glittery crucifixes. It's a Look, okay? Fuck Vitya and his "timeless classics" - Yuri is tacky garbage and he knows it.
He's pressing the heel of his hand into his mascara smudged eye when his phone pings again. The blanket slips down one shoulder with how suddenly he jerks his head up to look around, and there he is, fucking Hitoshi, looking tired and smug but still like the lifeline Yuri sorely needs right now. )
Asshole!
( Cramming his phone into his back pocket, Yuri tightens the blanket around his shoulders as he marches towards him, looking for all the world like a Hot Topic advert that got dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair, half pulled into a bun on top of his head, slips down into his face, and he brushes it behind his ear with a frustrated growl as he glares up at Hitoshi.
... Fuck tall people. He's long since resigned himself to the fact that he's never breaking 5'5", but fuck tall people. )
I hate my friends. C'mon, where are we eating?
( Which is Yuri-speak for "thanks for coming to get me", honest. )
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Love you too.
[ He sniggers again, turning to lead his friend back the way he came. He'll tell him about the change of clothes in his backpack later. There's something fiercely cute about Yuri's night time allure all roughed up and exposed to the cold light of day. Something dissonant about that magic made abruptly human that some strange part of Hitoshi kind of enjoys - even if he's not quite mean enough to drag it out for too long. ]
You still want pancakes? I know a place that does good ones.
[ And by 'good', he means of course that they're tasty, but no small part of his appreciation is down to the fact that they make them with little cat designs. Yeah, he's a sucker for cats. ]
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( Perhaps Yuri's favourite thing about Hitoshi is the fact that he doesn't make a fuss. It's one of the reasons why he and Otabek became such firm friends so quickly: Yuri is horrifically extra, and all of the people he knows are insane, and it's just - it's nice to be around someone who isn't going to freak out as much as he is. It makes him feel normal. Calmer. More inclined to take a few deep breaths instead of rage-quitting over something minor. )
Yeah, I'm starving.
( His stomach growls as if on cue, which Yuri tries to cover by drawing the blanket around him again. The prospect of good pancakes - any pancakes - is wonderful to him, and he privately hopes it isn't too far. He might start gnawing on Hitoshi's arm if he doesn't get fed soon. )
Do you have stuff to to today? I get it if you just want to drop me off, or whatever.
( Yuri stays close to Hitoshi, as though his nearby proximity will help to deflect some of the raised eyebrows he can feel being thrown to him by the general public. He's too tired and uncomfortable to flip everyone off like he usually would, and it's nice to have a bit of support in the form of his friend.
... And it's great that he's as crazy for cats as he is, but. That's just a bonus. )
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breakfast / tepidity
[ Hitoshi really is batting a thousand at this point. Doing whatever it is he did to his friend last night - god, that's still definitely bothering him - and then immediately appearing weirdly half-naked out of nowhere. No wonder Nisaka seems so... awkward. It's not so much worse than normal, but the lack of eye-contact is telling.
He comes across to sit on the couch, keeping what's hopefully a respectable distance. It's not, admittedly, a huge couch. ]
... Honestly, if you leave it up to me, I'll end up getting pizza.
[ It's not really breakfast time so much anymore, but it's definitely too early for pizza. Except if you're still fighting a fucker of a hangover and your body is craving that good, good grease. ]
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his hands are down on his knees now, idly picking at the fabric of his pants. he smiles faintly, amused despite himself. ]
Pizza's fine. We'll call it an early lunch.
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[ He smiles sidelong at his friend, pulling his phone out. Good old Dominos app. He makes a mental note as he hits yes when it asks if he wants extra cheese - he'll have to put in extra training hours to burn this off. And the alcohol from yesterday, too. But that's a problem for future Hitoshi. ]
Here, you can put yours in.
[ He hands over his phone and leans in a little bit to watch, curious for no real reason. And because he knows there are fairly incriminating texts on that thing. Just because there's no way he thinks Nisaka is going to go looking at where Kaminari has been repeatedly trying to tell him dude you should just ask him out like things are ever that easy, doesn't mean the possibility doesn't exist.
Heroes are... supposed to be vigilant, and take precautions against all possible outcomes. Or something. ]
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he puts in his default toppings — pepperoni and mushroom — and he's just about to hand it back to the other boy when it happens.
no, not the accidental reading of any old, incriminating text messages.
but rather the accidental reading of a present incriminating text message, thanks to the aforementioned kaminari, which reads:
WSIT SRSLT HES IN UR PLACE?? DUDE
nisaka freezes, staring at the notification taking up half the screen, forgetting how to breathe. there's more to the message that he can't read without clicking on it and god he's so tempted— ]
...For you.
[ his expression is blank as he finally hands the phone back to hitoshi, as if afraid to even be outwardly curious. ]
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1/2 i'm sorry he's so dumb
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GOD
LOL I'M SORRY
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bodyswap
And that's when the sheets come into focus.
These are not his sheets.
What the fuck is going on.
He rips the sheets back to stand and. He's taller. He's not in his pajamas. He takes a good hard look down at himself and he's not in his own body
So he runs to the mirror and is faced with.... Shinsou Hitoshi. Great.
He yanks up the phone and thank god it has a thumbprint passcode. ]
Get the FUCK up
[ He texts to ... himself? ]
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This is, also, not his body.
It's... shorter. Stocky. He feels... sweaty. The mirror almost seems to laugh at him as it confirms the literal worst case scenario. The mostly-naked body of Bakugou Katsuki.
Fantastic. ]
I'm up.
[ Thumbprint passcode? Not so lucky. But of course the four digit number is 0420 - Bakugou's birthday. ]
Your phone passcode is too easy to guess.
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[ He wasn't blaming him but maybe he knew? This was the fucking worst. The guy he kept having hot dreams about huh? ]
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[ For Hitoshi's part, there's already a dilemma. Bakugou's sweat thing feels legitimately disgusting, but not only would getting in the shower in someone else's body be kind of an invasion of privacy... well, he's not sure he's ready to see exactly what the reality of those dreams he's been having looks like. ]
I have no idea, but I'd like that back, if you don't mind.
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Vampire Soulmate AU
The weekly meeting with his agency had run far later than Bakugo would have liked and had cut into his meal prep time, so he was in a foul mood when he got home. A bit noisier than usual, he had started chopping everything up and clanking pots and pans around, swearing angrily under his breath. One of the newbies hadn't stopped talking about having recently met their soulmate the ~organic~ way and had kept them over, as if the topic wasn't stupid enough.
Unfortunately that sort of idiocity was catching, and Bakugo had even seen fucking Deku shyly scrawling notes onto his arm and smiling at the responses he received. Gross.
Even with all the noise he was making, he still heard Dead Weight's door open, and he cast his eyes up briefly to nod at him.]
I'll be done in a minute. You need the kitchen?
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(Sunshine won't kill him anyway, not as easily as that. Not unless he decides to bask in direct summer rays for the afternoon. It hurts, though, and that's enough. He'd really rather not deal with a week's worth of sunburn because he dared to venture out into the hallway.)
They actually don't see one another very often. There's no overlap at work, because even if their agencies teamed up what possible combination could Brainwash make with someone whose quirk is so irritatingly loud it's a genuine wonder he's not suffering some kind of hearing loss himself? Nobody can follow instructions they can't hear, and try as he might all the way through school, Hitoshi can't make it work on paper. So they're about as far apart as it's possible for two heroes to be, professionally. It just so happened that they both needed the space here. And Hitoshi's other option for a roommate was Monoma Neito.
Definitely not.
But today is, for some reason, different. You know how annoying it is when you wake up to find that it's half an hour before your alarm is supposed to wake you? You're not getting any more decent sleep in that time. And it's hard enough for an insomniac to get any in the first place. So yes, when he opens the door, he has reason to be vaguely annoyed. He doesn't even bother answering the question. ]
Whatever villain you're looking for isn't hiding in the saucepan.
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[While Bakugo could be surprisingly civil at times, if Dead Weight was going to come at him first thing with attitude, Bakugo wasn't going to bother with manners. He made sure to snap the last few lids of the tupperware as loudly as possible without breaking eye contact, sneering slightly.]
Isn't it time for you to get up and get ready soon anyway?
[Though he didn't usually pay attention to the lives of others unless he had to, it was difficult not to know the gist of someone's schedule when you were living together.]
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Touching that you're keeping tabs on my sleep schedule. But no, not for another half an hour.
[ He blinks slowly, and it's only partly because he's deliberately going for and you should feel sorry about that, for the record. The rest of it is general fatigue. He needs caffeine, which is mostly all he uses the kitchen for in the first place, and to feed - but while he does have to keep blood in the house, he's at least considerate enough to keep a mini fridge in his bedroom for that.
Humans can be so picky. ]
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what a great tag to come back to + hopefully this is okay?
yep!
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sorry for taking a bit on this!
no worries!
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making it up as i go let me know if i should edit???
g4p / taserbro
Not a question Hitoshi thought he'd ever have to ask himself. But then again, he didn't expect to stumble almost completely by accident across what - after making a couple of curious inquiries from an anonymous email address - he's now fairly sure is Kaminari Denki's business page. Maintaining an online presence is something that most pro heroes have to think about these days (not him, he's not bothering with any of that, not any kind of public persona) - but Kaminari isn't a pro. He's a first year. And most heroes' business pages don't mention private companionship services.
Still, he supposes they're not actually classmates yet. It'll be another five or so months before they're even in the same department.
It's a bad idea anyway. An incredibly bad idea. At first that was what he'd told himself, and that in his mind had been the end of it. It was just a thing he happened to know about. He wasn't even going to tell Kaminari he'd found it. What would be the point anyway? ... Well, the point would have been to warn him that maybe it's a little too easy to find in general. But apparently Hitoshi isn't quite as good of a person as he'd like to think, because he'd gotten into sort of a habit of just looking at it every so often. Just... seeing if it was still there. And there it always was. He'd convinced himself quite well that he wasn't actually considering anything.
And then he managed to pass his de-facto second entrance exam into Heroics, despite being fully sure he'd bombed it spectacularly.
Is it still possible to say you did something on the spur of the moment when it involved employing the use of the one piece of support equipment that the one teacher who ever believed you could do it jumped through several hoops to acquire for you? That's another question Hitoshi isn't going to ask himself. There are actually quite a few of them now. He just didn't want Kaminari to know it was him on the phone, that's all. It's not like he's going to actually disguise himself in person. That makes it less weird, surely? He's not making any weird demands. He's just here, at the hotel they'd arranged to meet at, with a lot more money in his wallet today than any sixteen year old carries around with them. He gives his alias at the desk, takes the elevator up to room 1104, and...
... puts his hood up to hide his eyes before knocking on the door. There's a peephole. He wants to at least see him first, if he's just going to slam the door in his face anyway. ]
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[Maybe it was how he ended up tied up in vines at the end of his fight. Maybe he was just the most good-looking guy in class? He intended to ignore it but for every few gross messages there were one or two that were... actually flattering. There were one or two he actually got a bit hot in the face reading. And then there was one that came with all that and a cash offer.]
[He made a separate social media account with pictures that didn't show his face. He'd have 2-3 meetings a month and post request pictures in-between for pocket money. It worked out pretty well. As a hero in training, you didn't really have time to flirt with people outside your classmates. If you got lucky, there was a joint training exercise and you got to flirt with people in the other classes. Denki struck out on that plenty so- this was enough.]
[That was the sort of idea he had in his head when he got a call from a new client.]
[As much trouble as he could get in for this sort of thing, the same went for people on the other end. He'd seen exaggerated sunglasses and trenchcoats so, when he checks through the peephole and sees someone with their hood pulled up- it checks out. He opens the door.]
Hey, you made it. Come on in.
[It's an easy, casual greeting, the kind of thing where no one would think some sketchy business was going on. Denki's already changed from his uniform (super incriminating, he's not that dumb) into a black tank-top and a pair of gym shorts that Hitoshi might recognize from pictures on the page. They were, perhaps, enticingly short, and there is a good moment to realize that as he heads back into the room and sits at the edge of the bed.]
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God, but it really is actually him, huh. He'd been 95% sure before, but...
He tries to tell himself he has no idea where he might have seen those exact stupid shorts before. They look even better on him in person than they did in the pictures, which is generally unfair as a concept, because they'd looked pretty amazing then too. For a second he thinks about staying quiet, keeping his chin down for now. But he didn't come here to be shy about this. It's a little awkward, maybe - but it's a business transaction, right? Kaminari's selling, so he's buying. And who says he shouldn't?
In the end he's almost aggressively casual about it. Pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans with one hand and pushing his hood back with the other. ]
So remind me how much I owe you?
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my bad for taking a bit on this
stuff happens! no biggie
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incubus au / gigavolts
Hitoshi supposes he can't exactly blame them.
He doesn't like it, though. The idea of looking at humans and seeing something partway between a toybox and an endless free buffet. What are they supposed to do when you're done with them, when you throw them away? It seems shitty that no one cares about that. He's been known to follow along behind some of his thousands of brothers (and sisters, because succubi are no better), doing what he can to help the poor idiots they leave behind. He never shows himself, just... if someone with a vague but concerning memory of dreaming about being ravished by a cute demon just so happens to find some money in the street the next day, or have their utility bill cut due to a 'special promotion' all of a sudden... who's gonna know?
(He doesn't really do the utility bill thing anymore. Apparently you can't just use your compulsion on a couple of employees and expect that to work out. There are systems about it these days and the person you were trying to help out ends up having to pay it all back, which is annoying and the opposite of the point of doing it in the first place.)
Still, he does run into the snag of the simple fact that he can't hold off forever.
He goes as long as he can. Weeks, months. He can scrape by sometimes by trying to catch the residual energy coming off some of the others, when they've fed more than they ever needed, because as mentioned before they're frisky little assholes. But sometimes it just comes down to it, and there's nothing you can do. Nothing other than what the rest of them do - appear in the bedroom of whatever human you've decided to use tonight and exert a little magic restraint to hold them still.
One of the others had their eye on this one. He's stepping on toes and he'll catch hell for it later (hah), but... he's so young. And so pretty. And something in Hitoshi had made him immediately want to pull the rug out from under his brother, just this one time.
... He's supposed to just do it, now. Now that he has him. But he freezes when their eyes meet, and just sort of hovers there in the air, looking at him like he just got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. ]
... Hi.
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There's a noise, though. A pop and a really ... hot guy?! Now in his room. What the fuck is this. He goes to move, ready with those fast reflexes from hero work. But it's not fast enough. He's now immobilized. The pressure of restraints is there without any physical thing. And the hot guy just keeps hovering. Hovering?!
What the fuck is this. What villain group does he work for-- Why does he look so nervous. ]
Hey?
[ Doesn't help that, at this very moment, he is rock fucking hard. It might be waning a little now, but his phone that was now dropped on the bed is still playing the porn he was greatly enjoying. Thank god the sound was at least off. ]
Hey uh sorry but what the fuck dude?
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[ He could win an award here, probably. Absolute least impressive ways to lead when you're trying to feed off a creature barely able to defend itself against you.
The phone draws his attention, and he leans down to scoop it up off the bed, watching the muted video with an eyebrow raised in interest. Probably not what he should be doing right now, but the sexual habits of humans left to their own devices are genuinely interesting. It's so different for them. They don't actually need it. Out of pure curiosity he turns the sound on, too. ]
... You actually watch this stuff?
[ Porn is such a weird idea. A view of sex but with the sexual energy closed off. In his mind it's sort of like eating cardboard. ]
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The Slut Energy tm
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daaaaaad / dadzawa
Anyway, this all means that a gloomy, hunched over teenager is really happy to come out of his room and see that his dads' bedroom door is open.
He can't tell who's in there right away, but it doesn't really matter. He'd talk to either of them or both. Mostly he just wants to be validated right now anyway. So he drags himself sullenly into the room and without a word, lets himself fall face-first onto the vacant half of the bed. ]
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Then, suddenly, his bed is half full of a teenage son. He has to be upset. Why else would he be in here like this. He makes no movement yet. Just looks away from his phone to observe him and try and gather as much information as possible. ]
... You want to talk about it?
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... Denki fucked up.
[ Not irreparably, but he did. ]
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