Yagi was exhausted.
And yet, here he sat, in the last place he wanted to be.
He supposed he should thank Hizashi and Nemuri for dragging him away from his late-night work session for an evening of what they referred to as ‘fun’. Though, he didn’t really see what could be fun about the flashy nightclub that Hizashi owned and operated, sweaty bodies writhing on the dancefloor, loud music blaring from the strategically placed speakers, the pounding bass alone enough to give Yagi a splitting headache; the lights were dimmed to the point that Yagi had to squint to see anything nearby.
Nemuri effortlessly tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder, seductively leaning on the bar to stare at Yagi, who was reluctantly seated on the stool next to hers, a faint pinkish tint on her cheeks from the bright red drink she held carefully in her hands, the tip of the straw pressing daintily into her full lips.
“Can’t we get you something to drink, Toshinori?” she said just loud enough for him to hear, taking another long draught of her drink; Yagi smirked as he noticed Hizashi out of the corner of his eye staring at the beauty sitting next to him, his ever present tinted glasses perched on top of his head and his light emerald eyes glued to her lips. Yagi coughed softly and shook his head.
“Thank you Nemuri, but I’m fine. I really don’t drink,” he nearly shouted at her, trying to be heard over the din. Hizashi grinned, and took a flying leap over the bar, cracking his knuckles and winking at the exhausted teacher.
“Aw, come on man, live a little why don’t ya!” he called, his voice naturally brash even without the use of his quirk, and promptly turned and poured half a shot of dark amber liquid from a fancy glass bottle. Yagi sighed, dropping his head into his hands, his wild mane of blond hair falling limply around his face. In all honesty, he’d rather be grading papers, in the quiet, possibly sipping a cup of tea, instead of sitting here at an incredibly noisy bar, with two fellow teachers whom he didn’t really know all that well, the smell of alcohol, sweat and sex lingering in the warm, stale air.
Hizashi slid the shot glass under Yagi’s nose, and the older man stared down at it for a long moment, before he sighed again, long thin fingers reaching out to curl around the glass, and threw it back, swallowing the warm liquid in one gulp. Hizashi cheered, throwing his hands up in the air, a huge grin plastered on his face, while Nemuri gracefully patted Yagi on the shoulder, as he hacked and sputtered at the unexpected strength of the drink he had just swallowed.
“There you go, sweetie. That’ll help you relax a little now,” she crooned softly into Yagi’s ear, making him shiver at her sudden nearness. But, as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He was already feeling more at ease, a gentle smile sliding across his lips a few moments later.
“So, please enlighten me you two,” Yagi raised his voice slightly, sounding a bit more like All Might to the two young teachers, who stared at him expectantly. “Why exactly am I here?” The look exchanged between the two was not lost on Yagi, who furrowed his brow in confusion, as Hizashi turned and poured him a different kind of drink, while Nemuri nibbled on her bottom lip.
“Here. Drink this and we’ll tell you,” Hizashi stated, his green eyes almost serious for once. Yagi didn’t hesitate this time as the younger man slid him a worn coffee mug. Nemuri looked away and sucked the rest of her drink through her straw, handing the now empty glass to Hizashi, and giving him a suggestive wink as she did so, making him clutch his heart in mock anguish. “Miss Kayama, you’re going to be the death of me. How the hell are you so sexy?” he grinned, leaning up on the bar to give her his smoothest grin, before turning away to mix her another cocktail. Yagi rolled his eyes.
“Get a room you two,” he muttered softly, his words not reaching their ears, as he took a small experimental sip and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the loud hero could brew a decent cup of tea. Hizashi, the bartender magician that he was, gracefully poured Nemuri her drink with a flourish, then turned back to Yagi, laughter dancing in his green eyes.
“Ok so, we invited you here tonight because there’s going to be a special performance in a few minutes.” Yagi’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected answer, Nemuri desperately suppressing a giggle and doing her very best not to snort her drink all over Hizashi’s screamingly bright blue silk button down.
“What kind of performance?” Yagi groaned, slightly worried that it would be some horrible All Might impersonator. Hizashi grinned slyly, pointedly ignoring his question. Nemuri coughed one good time to clear her airways of the cocktail she had just inhaled, then turned to grin at Yagi, one long finger pointing at the stage that was set up against the back wall.
“It’ll be fun, honey. Just trust us.” She giggled again, as Yagi turned to look at the stage, his eyes growing wide as he noticed the stagehands hanging up what looked to be two long blood red silken sheets, their soft folds disappearing high into the rafters. He turned back to look at Hizashi, who had made himself busy behind the counter of the bar, so Yagi entertained himself by watching the stagehands finish up their work and slink off into the dark corners of the bar.
A few minutes later, Hizashi stood up, sliding back over the bar to stand between Nemuri and Yagi, slinging his arms over both their shoulders, a huge grin breaking across his face.
“You ready?” Nemuri nodded and giggled, her eyes hazy with alcohol; Yagi just shrugged, a twinge of a bad feeling settling deep in his core. Hizashi winked at the older teacher and made his way across the dance floor, sidestepping between couples dancing hotly together, and shimmied his way onto the stage. Yagi glanced over at Nemuri, who had jammed her fingers into her ears, and quickly followed suit, and not a moment too soon either.
“YO YO WHAT’S UP TONIGHT!” Hizashi screeched, his quirk activating and making his voice boom out over the club; the music died down somewhat and the crowd hanging around in the dark corners started to gather in the center of the dance floor, all eyes staring up at the Voice Hero. “ALL RIGHT, I’VE GOT A VERY SPECIAL GUEST HERE TONIGHT TO PERFORM FOR YOU. HE’S AN ACROBAT AND HE’S ABSOLUTELY THE MOST DEVASTATINGLY HANDSOME DEVIL YOU’LL EVER LAY EYES ON, YO.” Nemuri groaned lightly, and Yagi let out a soft cough, confusion painting his sharp features. Hizashi grinned, winking out at the audience. “YA’LL WANT TO MEET HIM?” The crowd erupted, the eager cacophony reverberating off the dusky walls, and Hizashi laughed. “ALL RIGHT THEN. LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I GIVE YOU...AERIAL AIZAWA!” Yagi’s head snapped up at the name as the roaring mob nearly deafened him; Hizashi quickly sashayed back to where they sat and perched on the edge of the bar between them.
“Did he say Aizawa?” Yagi asked, but his voice was lost in the din, and the lights quickly dimmed, leaving only a pinkish spotlight trained on the red silks; as Yagi’s bright blue eyes focused where the spotlights were shining, he noticed a figure dressed all in black, sitting cross-legged in front of the silks, his ramrod straight back to the now silent audience. Yagi’s eyes grew wide; he would recognize that mass of dark wavy hair pulled up into a high ponytail anywhere. However, the black mesh material stretched tightly across broad muscular shoulders, accentuating the young, lithe figure was completely new to Yagi. As he stared, music began playing, a song Yagi didn’t recognize, but the beat was energetic, yet soft, giving the air a nearly silken quality.
Aizawa slowly twirled up from his sitting position, turning gracefully to face his audience, who continued to stare in rapt attention, and giving Yagi a nice view of his long, toned legs, swathed in a pair of tight black sweatpants, bunching up around his ankles. Yagi visibly swallowed as his eyes roamed over the perfect body of the young teacher, finally coming to rest on his heavy lidded, obsidian eyes. He would have been perfectly happy to stare into those soul-stealing irises all day, but, unfortunately for Yagi, Aizawa spun around again, grasping the two silks, deftly wrapping one of them around his ankle and bare foot, and pulling himself up on the second. With amazing speed and dexterity, the young man shimmied his way to nearly the top of the silks, wrapping them artistically around his legs, drawing himself into an almost effortless split in midair. Yagi gasped, completely entranced, not seeing the looks Hizashi and Nemuri were giving each other.
Aizawa continued his routine, drawing gasps and applause as he dangled by nothing but his wrists nearly twenty feet off the ground, wrapping the silk around his foot and pulling his wrist out of its entrapment a moment later, bending backward into a graceful arch, flipping himself nearly upside down, one arm stretched over his head grasping the silk tightly. Hizashi wolf whistled loudly directly beside Yagi’s ear, making the older man jump in surprise; however, the sound was cut very short, leaving a now silent Hizashi to sit in stunned silence, those emerald eyes wide. Yagi cut his eyes back over to where Aizawa hung upside down, gasping as he noticed the flashing crimson eyes, his long hair waving dangerously, pulling itself out of the ponytail, his icy glare focused solely on Hizashi. After only a second, he released his quirk, attractively hauling his body back up the silks, wrapping it around his waist and between his legs, dark locks settling gracefully over his shoulders. There was a collective gasp from the audience as Aizawa released his hold on the silks in his fingers, twisting and tumbling toward the stage floor, stopping at the very last second, dangling precariously by the silk wrapped tightly around one of his calves, his usual jaded demeanor coming through as he swung freely, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, dark eyes almost bored.
Yagi hated himself for the inability to look away. But the teacher was mesmerizing, as he pulled himself back up to the top of the silks, the music reaching a swelling crescendo and Aizawa tumbled down again, this time his wrists and ankles connected to the silks, curling his arms and legs out behind him, the momentum causing him to spin in place and the audience erupted in wild applause; after a moment, the twirling silks slowed, and Aizawa gracefully slid down the crimson material, one of his feet planting firmly on the ground, his other ankle pulled high behind his head, and he dipped into a low bow, right as the music ended, his hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes from Yagi’s view.
The crowd exploded, screams and cheers drowning out all other sounds as Aizawa pulled his foot free of the silk and sauntered off backstage, disappearing from Yagi’s sight. Quickly, the normal bar atmosphere returned, the crowd dissipating to go back to dancing or drinking. Yagi sat in stunned silence; only the feeling of Nemuri’s long fingers curling under his chin pushing his open jaw closed jerked him out of his reverie. Hizashi grinned as Yagi slowly made eye contact with him.
“Hey there! What’d you think?” Yagi opened his mouth to speak, then swiftly closed it again, the performance leaving him completely speechless. Suddenly, Yagi stood to his feet, startling Hizashi and Nemuri and nearly toppling the bar stool in his haste.
“I have to go.” He spoke softly, his sharp cheeks reddening, shaking his head and quickly turning away. “See you Monday.” And without another word, Yagi dashed out the door and into the night.
Hizashi groaned and rolled his eyes, pulling a wad of cash from his back pocket and reluctantly handed it over to Nemuri, who had a satisfied smirk settled on her lips, as she took a long sip of her cocktail.
“I told you he has a crush on Shouta,” she purred, as Hizashi glared at her. Then a new, rather devious thought crossed his mind, and he squinted at her, his lips sliding into a lopsided grin.
“How about double or nothing?” he asked, leaning on the bar directly beside her, staring deep into her wide blue eyes. She grinned fiendishly.
“What are we betting on this time?” Hizashi glanced over his shoulder, making sure Aizawa wasn’t within earshot yet.
“I bet we can get Yagi to fuck Sho before Halloween,” he whispered directly into her ear. Nemuri choked hard on her drink.
“Holy shit Hizashi! You think he’d do that?” she rasped, as she pushed the now empty glass away from her and turned to face the blond hero head on. Hizashi nodded slowly, winking at her through his bright green eyes.
“You gonna take the bet sweetheart?” Nemuri scowled, then reached out to shake his newly offered hand, grasping his fingers tightly and pulling him closer to her.
“Oh, you’re gonna owe me big when you lose,” she cooed seductively, her nose mere centimeters away from Hizashi’s. “Because I really don’t think Yagi’s got it in him to try to win Shouta over.”
“Who’s winning me over?”
Nemuri and Hizashi both turned at the voice behind them, to find Aizawa standing there, his performance outfit nowhere to be seen; the erasure hero had redressed in his normal loose black jumpsuit, his capture weapon dangling around his shoulders, damp hair pooling around his unshaven face in dark waves. He stared at his friends, his hands buried deep in his pockets, and Hizashi cleared his throat.
“It’s nothing man.” He reached out with one long arm, pulling Aizawa against his side, Nemuri standing to hug him tightly against her.
“That was amazing sweetie! You’d never know you were in the hospital last week.” She reached up to lightly touch the new crescent shaped scar that adorned his right cheek, directly under his eye. “Are you in pain anywhere?” Aizawa shook his head, burying his face in the folds of his capture weapon, his eyes tired.
“’m fine.” He took a step forward and collapsed on Yagi’s recently vacated bar stool, laying his head down on the bar, his hair falling into his face and he huffed out a sigh. “Hizashi, give me a shot of something,” he groaned exhaustedly, and his friend hurried to slide behind the bar once more, pouring a shot glass full of the same drink he had served Yagi just moments before. Without lifting his head, Aizawa pulled the drink to him, sitting up just enough to knock it back with one gulp, then immediately returned to his previous position, his hand clenched tightly around the shot glass. It was then he noticed the abandoned lukewarm mug directly before his face and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Who was sitting here with you?” he asked quietly. Nemuri glanced over at Hizashi, then gently patted Aizawa’s shoulder.
“Oh, we invited someone from school. We thought he might enjoy a night out and away from grading papers.” She couldn’t hide the smirk in her voice, and Aizawa groaned.
“Who the hell did you invite Nemuri?” he growled, finally lifting his head from the bar and turned to stare at her, his dark eyes cold and nearly flashing scarlet. “You know I don’t like people from work coming to watch me do this.” She giggled at him, his intimidation tactic not affecting her in the slightest.
“We invited Yagi.” Aizawa’s jaw dropped open, and Hizashi reached over the bar to tap it closed with a grin. Aizawa groaned again, plopping his elbows on the bar and dropping his head into his hands.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” he hissed through his fingers, wondering again why he was friends with the two of them. Nemuri leaned on the bar next to him, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers.
“We thought he’d enjoy it. And I believe he did. He looked totally enchanted by you,” she giggled again. Aizawa slowly lifted his head and turned to look at her, his expression a mixture of boredom and annoyance.
“Really. Then where is he?” Hizashi hopped up to sit on the bar between them, casually shrugging his shoulders.
“He said he had to go right after you finished, and he took off.” He chuckled, placing his hand on Aizawa’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Don’t worry buddy, I’m sure he’ll forget all about it by Monday.”