(Angst tw, idk if happy ending??)
Hizashi has always wanted to be a catastrophe.
Because maybe if he's spiraling out of control, someone will at least go through the motions of caring about him.
But it never works that way. Present Mic is loud and fun and flashy, and you'd think he would have drawn at least a couple of people in like moths to a strobe light. And, sure, he's got fans. Lots of them.
But the second he shows any of them *Hizashi*, they lose interest.

Twitfic for @ErasersScarf!

-NSFW
-Erasermic
-BDSM (Bondage, D/s, some S&M)
-trans man!Aizawa

"Tie me up. Use me." For a moment, everything is silent, Hizashi pausing where he's sitting straddling Shouta's hips, hands pinning his wrists to the pillow above his head.
Shouta pauses too, looking like he's just as shocked by what came out of him.
Well, Hizashi had asked what he wanted.

Aizawa Shouta does not like Yamada Hizashi.

He's everything Shouta isn't, and not in that 'opposites attract' way--he's too talkative, too energetic, too loud even outside his quirk. And *with* his quirk? God, the last thing he needed to be is *louder*.

But he's trying to. Because as much as he tries not to, he ends up hearing gossip sometimes, and this was all over the school--Yamada came out as bisexual. Shouta has known he's gay for years, even if nobody else knows.

This makes them the only two out queer boys at UA.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Shouta asks doubtfully, eyeing the boy next to him on the couch.

Hizashi is pale even in the low light from the tv, clutching the blanket on his lap with white-knuckled hands, and when Shouta talks his eyes flash over to him, wide and staring. "I'm totally fine! A-absolutely!" he squeaks. He clears his throat, bringing his voice into a more normal register. "I'm great! This is great!"

"We can watch a different movie," Shouta tells him while the group of teenagers on the screen split up to explore the abandoned house.

All of Shouta's friends think that he gets blackout drunk extremely easily--basically if he drinks at all.
This has always been a lie. Maybe if he wants to feel better about himself, a logical ruse. It just got out of control.
It started when he was twenty, and at his first real party. Hizashi had finally dragged him to one--surprising that it took him so long, with how head-over-heels he is for the man.
So he's standing there with a drink in his hand, feeling left out.

At first, Hizashi doesn't notice the knocking on the door, because it's quiet under the pounding beat of his music.
But it doesn't quite sync up, a nagging intrusion on his groove, and so he frowns and reaches out to turn the music down--slightly.

https://twitter.com/Robbirdthe8th/status/1195117849468997632

Then he frowns at himself in the mirror. His hair is half-up, and he's wearing just his tight white undershirt and boxers. He glances at the leather pants on his bed, but decides it's too much trouble. The knocking comes again, insistent.

"Eraser!" Hizashi crows, and Shouta doesn't even stiffen when he throws his arms around him, bending down to drape over his back where he sits in his chair. "How's it hangin'?"
"Mic," Shouta says neutrally, but he hasn't shrugged him off.

https://twitter.com/tatertownusa/status/1195114052328075264

Hizashi doesn't wait for a reply, just taking a breath to start talking Shouta's ear off about the classes he's taught today. But--there's something different. Something in the air.
He stops, sniffing again. There's a faint hint of something spicy. Sandalwood and cloves.