#they're besties and they're roommates | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hairmetal666 · 1 year

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By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.

She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.

"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.

"Steve Harrington."

"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"

"Oh, er--just me, actually."

Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"

Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."

So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.

Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.

"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"

Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"

Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"

"Little bit," Steve smiles.

"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.

"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."

"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.

After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.

---

Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.

He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"You alright, man?" Steve asks.

Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."

His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."

He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"

He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.

"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.

Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.

---

It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.

He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.

Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.

He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.

Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.

"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.

"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.

"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."

Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.

He is so weird.

---

In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.

Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.

Flirting with her is easy.

He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.

It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"

Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.

It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.

"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.

He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.

Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.

---

They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.

They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.

Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.

Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.

A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.

Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.

Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.

He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.

He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.

---

When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Have you seen my notebook?"

"What?" Steve's heart drops.

"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"

"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.

"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.

Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.

"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.

They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.

"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.

Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."

"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.

The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.

Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.

"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.

"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #ficlet #oneshot #college au #best friends to lovers #fluff #eddie has a terrible crush #steve is oblivious #platonic stobin #a little angst #misunderstanding #they're all besties #eddie writes songs about steve #secret crush #and they were roommates

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saltysaccharin · 1 year

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Med Student

— [PRE-ELYSIUM] {CANON}

• characters :: hawks / takami keigo, ryouga atsumu + hero public safety commission (briefly), others (briefly)

• content :: narrative, backstory arc™, childhood friends to lovers, fluff and angst so hurt/comfort-esque, bittersweet ending

• warnings :: none but remember the hpsc is horrible

prompt / synopsis :: a quick look at doc apollo before he became doc apollo. at least, from a bird's eye view (metaphorically).

word count :: 4.9k

a/n :: i've been wanting to showcase not-adult atsumu for a while, but i can't put his whole heart and soul out for the world to see just yet because he's supposed to be confusing and unreadable and ✨mysterious✨

so i got the next best thing, via hawks' pov <3

"Hawks,"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"That's enough training for today," The handler cleared her throat, uncrossing her legs before standing up. As she dusted off her pencil skirt, scarlet feathers belonging to thirteen-year-old Hawks paused in midair. He looked up at her curiously, which she acknowledged by raising a hand. "We have another task for you."

The dirty blond wiped sweat from his temple as his feathers gathered around him, then repositioned themselves properly onto his wings. He straightened his posture and patiently awaited the details of this new 'task,' although internally, his mind was racing in anticipation — was it his first official mission, perhaps? He realized that he was probably too young for that. Then again, he was barely a fledgling out of the nest when the Hero Public Safety Commission scouted him out, so it wasn't impossible—

He was competent, right? Did they finally trust him enough to handle the real world again? Hawks' chest thrummed in excitement and hope, following his handler out of the training room and into the HPSC's dull hallways.

She hummed, likely noticing his silent enthusiasm but choosing not to comment on it further. Instead, she started, "Sometime last month, the Commission found a preteen..." Hawks furrowed his eyebrows, evidently perplexed while she explained, "He's been gifted a powerful Quirk — like you — but unfortunately, it caused the downfall of his ordinary life. We have since decided to take him in and train him.

"However, he has proven to be a very.. difficult child. It seems that even with time, he refuses to cooperate with us. He either refuses to speak a word or simply has an outburst." The handler sighed, bringing a hand up to the bridge of her nose. Clearing her throat, she turned to look down at Hawks, "So, we were thinking that it might be good for him to interact with someone closer to his age. Maybe you could talk some sense into him, given that you're skilled in almost anything else."

The sound of sugar-laced words were familiar to Hawks' ears by now.

"So, are you up for the task, Hawks?" She asked directly.

...But they had yet to lose their effect, by this point.

The young Hero-in-training nodded, a determined flame in his eyes. "I am. I'll convince him, for sure. I'm willing to deal with him, no matter what he might throw my way!" He declared, balling his hands into fists.

His handler only laughed with mirth, "So dramatic. Well, you're in luck; we're here," The woman abruptly stopped on their stroll, turning to face a door. Hawks scrutinized the lack of a nameplate. "Let us know how it goes, and don't be afraid to back out if it's too much to handle."

'It won't be too much to handle,' Hawks wanted to retort, but ultimately kept the attitude to himself in favor of a quiet nod. He reached for the handle and turned, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him in one swift move.

"I told you people to LEAVE ME ALONE!!"

Almost instantly, a small tray was sent flying his way. It would have hit him right in the face had he not used his wing to block the attack, the tray falling to the floor with a clatter. Hawks scoffed to himself before lowering his makeshift shield, finally getting a good look at his assailant.

"O-Oh. You're not..." Stammered a boy with one too many white strands tangled in his brown hair for his age. He retracted the arm used to attack rather bashfully, grabbing ahold of his gloved left wrist. He couldn't seem to look at Hawks for very long, bright orange eyes darting around the room anxiously; his lip quivered, the beginning syllables of an apology forming, before he settled for a "...Whatever."

The kid slid down the wall with a frown, bringing his knees up to his chest as he sat on the floor. There was a relatively decent bed right beside him, apparently rejected.

Hawks was at a loss. It had been far too long since he'd genuinely socialized with someone his age, not to mention how.. disturbed this particular person was. He understood very early on that maybe he bit off more than he could chew with this one — but that didn't mean he was willing to give up. The higher-ups were counting on him, relying on him; how could he even think about letting them down when he was finally given a chance to show how good of an asset he was?

Taking a deep breath, Hawks took a tentative step forward, which did not get a reaction from the other. He interpreted this as a good sign, choosing to come even closer, and closer, until he was eventually seated beside the boy on the floor.

When he was met with still no response, Hawks awkwardly took a look around the room before speaking. "So," That was not a good start, he winced internally, but pressed onward, "What's your name?"

"Atsumu."

The immediate reply almost caused Hawks' heart to beat right out of his ribcage. He wasn't expecting a reply at all, much less a quick and cooperative one. Steadying himself, the former cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "Well—" An unwanted voice crack made him want to die right then— "It's nice to meet you, Atsumu. My name is Hawks."

"That's a stupid name," Atsumu deadpanned with zero hesitation.

"It— It is not!" Hawks flushed, his wings puffing up defensively.

"Is too," The brunet huffed, looking up from the hiding place that was the space between his arms, "But seriously, what is your name? Don't tell me 'Hawks' is, because I'm not going to believe you."

Hawks glared, his own frown forming on his face. He glanced away and mumbled, "Smartass." Into his palm, only for an exaggerated gasp to come from behind.

"Hey! You're not allowed to say that!"

"Says who? Maybe you're not, but I'm older than you, you know!"

"Do you even know how old I am?"

"...Eleven..?"

"I'M TWELVE—!"

The two boys fell into a rather uncomfortable silence after that. Not so uncomfortable that it'd warrant one wanting the other to leave, but it definitely wasn't as warm and friendly as a normal interaction between children should've been.

Hawks grumbled internally, wrapping his wings around himself in an attempt to calm his nerves. He didn't dislike Atsumu so far, really, it was just.. difficult, like the handler had recounted. Hawks briefly considered that maybe he contributed to the problem. Considering the fact that he didn't have many friends growing up — or at all, for that matter. His way of living before the HPSC took him in was less than ideal...

As he looked back on that time, he sighed aloud. What harm would telling someone his real name be? The people who 'accepted' him with open arms told him to throw it away, but he never truly understood how something so personal could be tossed aside as carelessly as they wanted him to.

He still had it. He didn't use it, but he still had it.

Just when Hawks made up his mind, opening his mouth to speak, he heard a whimper coming from his left.

Hawks quickly moved his wings out of the way to get a better view at the situation. Atsumu's face was buried in his arms again, a gloved hand digging into his hair and gripping the locks deathly tight. His body shook as he inhaled and shakily exhaled between sobs.

Utterly shocked, Hawks stuttered, "Are.. Are you crying?.." His question only seemed to make it worse, however, as a choked sob came from Atsumu's withdrawn form. A panicked apology left Hawks' lips before he could fully register what was happening. "Hey, hey— I'm sorry, okay, I.. I didn't mean to—"

"It's not your fault!" Atsumu yelled, startling the former although the noise was muffled by the position, "It's mine. It's all mine! Everything that happened, I— I couldn't control it, and now—" Hawks worriedly glanced toward Atsumu's hold on his own hair, deciding it might be a good idea to intervene before Atsumu hurt himself.

"Hey, it's going to be okay— I'm sure you didn't mean anything—" Hawks tried, despite truthfully having no clue what Atsumu was rambling about. He reached out to grab Atsumu's hand, carefully prying it away from his poor hair.

The action slightly moved the glove's hem, exposing some of Atsumu's skin which seemed to cause him to violently jerk away in a frenzy. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" He pulled away, nothing but terror in his eyes, "I'm— I'm a sickness, I don't do anything but make trouble for other people even though I— even though all I wanted to do was..." He cried, sniffling.

Oh god. How was Hawks supposed to deal with..?

"I'm sorry—" Atsumu unexpectedly managed between the bawling, "I shouldn't have... Sorry, you didn't do anything..." He forcefully gulped down the lump in his throat, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm a mess. It shouldn't be your problem, just 'cause you're a kid too. I'm sor—"

Hawks couldn't stop himself from cutting Atsumu off. Before either of them knew it, Hawks had wrapped his arms around Atsumu, somehow simultaneously tight and gentle.

"Stop apologizing."

Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath before the waterworks started up again, unsteady hands gripping the back of Hawks' shirt as the shorter boy wept. The former kept mumbling apologies in spite of Hawks' wishes, but he let him get it out of his system. The handler said nothing about the rookie being so.. sad.

Hawks wondered, had Atsumu just been holding this all in for a month? Because he didn't trust any of the grown-ups to deal with his problems? Regardless...

Atsumu definitely needed that hug.

Hawks didn't know it at the time; but he did, too.

🪶

About a year after their mess of an introduction, the people running the HPSC had deemed it a good idea to allow those particular two to spend time together. Atsumu didn't really understand it (and made the fact very clear with his restless theorizing), but Hawks' feathers had managed to pick up some staticky noise about how they 'developed more efficiently when they were together.'

Or something like that.

He just guessed that it meant he and Atsumu were just easier to deal with as long as they weren't separated. Maybe they were similar to how two negative numbers multiplied made the product positive.

While not appreciating how that analogy meant he was a negative number, Hawks admitted that it was partially true. So well played, Commission heads, well played.

Still, it wasn't like every waking moment was some strange playdate orchestrated by the handlers — Atsumu spent a big chunk of his time in a different building, training both his Quirk and studying medicine; and Hawks had his own training to worry about, albeit he was much more advanced than the other considering how long it'd been since he was 'recruited.'

...Admittedly, even if the Commission hadn't constantly put them in the same room, the two would have probably found a way to use up their free time with each other.

Fifteen-year-old Hawks knitted his eyebrows together in concern as he watched Atsumu. The latter flexed his fingers and curiously observed the slow spread of.. whatever it was — it went from the tips of his fingers to his wrists now; it had stopped at the base of his digits when they first met.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" Hawks inquired, understandably wary of this new development, "No stinging or itching or any of that?"

Atsumu took one look at him and chuckled for some reason. Squinting, Hawks scrunched up his face in confusion, his silent way of asking 'What's so funny?' The brunet shook his head in amusement, his voice still carrying a bit of laughter, "You're not very good at putting your feelings on your face."

What was that supposed to mean?

Atsumu shrugged, noticing the other's growing bewilderment. "I mean, you're not that expressive." He pursed his lips, "Like, at all." Of course he had to add that last part just to drive his point home.

Evidently, Atsumu had the exact opposite problem that Hawks (allegedly) did.

"I don't believe you," Hawks argued, internally reflecting on all the times he'd actively felt the muscles in his face move just to express a certain feeling. It was absurd to think that all that had been for naught, right?

"But you should," The brunet stuck his tongue out defiantly, having no regard for his technically-upperclassman, "It's not like any of the handlers'll tell you. They don't care about that type of stuff as long as you do a good job and be a Hero and blah blah—"

"Yeah, so then why does it matter to you, Atsu?" Hawks huffed, raising an eyebrow. He chose not to comment on Atsumu's disrespectful remark towards the Heroes, but it was fine; he knew and understood that his friend never really felt the desire to become one.

Atsumu only hummed in response, apparently taking some time to truly contemplate the reason. After some time, he finally came to the following conclusion: "Well, Heroes are supposed to be liked by the public, right? I think you have to be, like, human for that to happen."

"But I am human."

"You don't act like it!" Came the younger teen's retort, "I can tell how you feel since I know you, but if you told a stranger that you were worried about them being hurt while having the straightest of faces," Atsumu's shoulders slumped dramatically, "I don't know if they'd believe you—

"Which is bad! Because you're a good person and stuff. You just don't show it a lot past the actual.. y'know, Hero thing," The orange-eyed boy gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke, doing his best to get his point across. "You just look so serious all the time."

Pouting slightly, Hawks blew a stray hair away from his face, "Well, that's probably because I have to be — I'm always training, and..."

"Not always," Atsumu interjected, holding up a finger, "Not when you're with me."

Hawks lowered his head in thought, a few loose feathers idly floating around him. He supposed that was true; it was easier to unwind around someone his age, especially someone who shared the same.. abnormal childhood training experience he had.

"How do you manage to do it, then?" Hawks asked directly, "You have so much to juggle all the time, more than I do. But you're so..."

"So what?"

"...Cheerful? I guess?"

"Ha. That's funny. Anyway, to answer your question... I have zero advice. Sorry."

Hawks shook his head. "Then we'll have to work on that some other time," Gently taking hold of one of the other's hands without much resistance, Hawks brought it closer for inspection, "What's all this though? You avoided the question earlier." The blond huffed stubbornly.

Atsumu only shrugged with his free shoulder, making an uncommitted noise, "I honestly don't know either. My handler thinks it's a drawback, but I haven't felt anything."

"Hm. That's odd."

"Obviously, Kei."

🪶

"...Huh? Atsumu— Atsu, are you alrig—"

"Hawks, get your partner under control."

The sixteen-year-old trainee shot the handler a subtle yet absolutely outraged look as he took his friend's shaking form away from them. Hawks shushed Atsumu and rubbed circles on his back, saying nothing about how tightly the latter had clutched onto the back of his shirt.

Hawks turned back to the adult and questioned, "What did you do to him?" He barely held back a glower, "What happened? It's been five days."

Atsumu's handler sighed, looking down both literally and figuratively at Hawks. "What, can't stand being apart from the only colleague you'll know before graduating?" He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered to himself, "Tsk, we knew there were risks of codependency, with your.. animalistic Quirk, but no one thought it'd affect your ability to know your place. Ah... Is this going to be a problem for us, Hawks?" His question only had one answer.

Hawks knew that.

He stole one more glance at Atsumu on the verge of hyperventilating into his shoulder, then lowered his head in the face of authority.

"No, sir."

"Good. Now, get him stabilized, however you manage to do that. You two should be ready for dinner when I come back."

After waiting with bated breath for the door to finally click shut, Hawks pulled away from Atsumu and placed his hands onto the other's shoulders. He worriedly moved to cup Atsumu's face in order to get a better look at him, and vice versa.

"Atsu," Hawks tried, "What happened?"

"...Kei..." The brunet sniffled in response, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes before rolling down his birthmarks, "...So, so many things... They... They made me—"

Hawks shushed, engulfing Atsumu in another hug before he had the chance to burst into sobs. Atsumu had always been a crybaby since they met. His lows were truly low. He wasn't as young as Hawks was when the HPSC decided to.. mold him into another 'perfect' soldier, and so the difficulty he had adjusting to the whole living situation — it was hard. He knew that.

Judging from how Atsumu's body practically convulsed, clearly sore in some way, Hawks guessed whatever they made him do involved something that hurt.

...Whether Atsumu was the one who got hurt or if he hurt someone else was unclear.

"I hate my Quirk," Atsumu suddenly spoke up, although his voice was muffled by Hawks' shoulder, "I wish I was just Quirkless. This stupid thing hasn't done anything except hurt me and other people..." His grievances devolved into a silent cry as Hawks held him, the older boy unsure how to comfort his friend properly yet figured that doing his best would suffice for the moment.

Several "I'm sorry"s were sprinkled across the lull, Atsumu's habit of apologizing for seemingly nothing and to seemingly no one arising again. It always confused Hawks, but he never wanted to pry...

"Don't say that," Hawks eventually disagreed with Atsumu's first notion, "Your Quirk is incredible. It's capable of saving lives, and reaches places that most healer Quirks can't," He sighed, patting the other's back, "So many people will owe you their lives in the future. Isn't that what you've always wanted? To save people?"

Atsumu did not nod, but he didn't deny it either. Instead, he choked out, "But it hurts."

"...I know."

Hawks didn't know what else to say after that. He could tell Atsumu didn't, either, given the complete silence that overtook them, save for a few sobs from the latter.

Right when he thought Atsumu had dozed off, the boy took a deep breath and sighed shakily. "...I wanna help people," He mumbled, "No matter what anyone else says. I wanna give everyone a chance, 'cause it's not fair that I...

"That I did everything I did, but.. I get to call myself a 'Hero' in like three years," He sniffed, then finally pulled back from clinging to the only friend he had in there. "So I'll do that — help people. Even with the endless classes, the.. training. I can do it. It's fine, I'm—"

"It's okay," Hawks sighed, putting a hand on Atsumu's shoulder. "There's nothing that says doctors have to be 'fine' especially with all the crap they have to deal with on a daily basis."

Atsumu sniffed again, this time bringing up an arm to wipe his eyes. "Whatever, smart guy,"

If it weren't for the situation, Hawks would have laughed at the ridiculous familiarity that Atsumu's antics gave; trying to play everything off as if it were nothing without giving either of them any sort of break to process their feelings.

He'd grow out of it someday, though, so Hawks wasn't too worried about that.

"So how are you feeling?" Atsumu asked, looking at Hawks with his full attention, "I don't ask that as much as I should, even though you're going through.. basically the same stuff as me."

Hawks only shrugged. An unsatisfactory answer, he realized, as Atsumu frowned and hit him with a stray pillow on the floor.

"I'm pretty okay, really," He managed, tone uncertain still. Scratching the back of his neck, he drawled out, "Well. Less okay and more.. used to it all, y'know?"

"...That's fucking sad."

"Shut up."

🪶

"Oh, Hawks-senpaiiiii," A sing-songy voice called out, coated in nothing but malice. At least, in the target's perspective.

"Here we go." The eighteen-year-old Hero in question rolled his eyes playfully as he swiftly stepped to the side, successfully dodging an attack from behind courtesy of his significant other.

Atsumu yelped as he missed, well on his way toward the ground had Hawks not grabbed his hand in time. It was absolutely unnecessary to, but Hawks couldn't stop himself from smoothly twirling Atsumu around before pulling him close — all with a smirk plastered across his face.

Atsumu made a very unconvincing angry face.

"You're so cute," Hawks grinned, taking note of how Atsumu's expression was contradicting his comfortable body language. He loved him, but Atsumu was not a good liar.

Not to him, anyway.

"Stop being condescending!" Atsumu cried out dramatically, lightly punching — tapping, more like — Hawks on the chest.

"You're the one who was calling me by my Hero name instead of your beloved Keigo," He argued, cheekily leaning his face closer to Atsumu's. The latter flushed and immediately looked away, grumbling a series of profanities. Hawks could only chuckle fondly.

The brunet turned up his nose, "It's your fault for being older than me. I still have, what, eight more months of training to go through before I can finally see the outside world once more." He hummed.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, "You're being dramatic. I literally just took you out on a date a few months ago."

"It's not the sameee, Keiii," Atsumu whined, "I should be allowed outside already, even as a doctor! I already have forty-two doctorates!" He crossed his arms, then a heavy sigh came after, "That amount isn't remotely possible for normal people. This is so unfair. I have to study all this and try to keep up with my Hero training, which is just glorified torture at this point, and still—"

Unfortunately for Atsumu and his little tangent, Hawks had developed a habit of kissing him in the middle of various rants. In turn, Atsumu seemingly settled into his own routine of releasing a muffled squeal followed by (eventually) kissing back.

Hawks pulled away with a calm expression, but his eyes practically gleamed with adoration. "You done?"

Atsumu glared, pushing the other's face away with a scoff. "I hate it when you do that..." The almost aggressive reddening of his face betrayed his statement.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Why are you saying that like you don't believe me?"

The former only shrugged, his wings fluttering slightly, "No reason. Hey, I have some paperwork to do for my agency, do you wanna just," He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, pulling a complete one-eighty from his earlier confident persona.

What could he say? For all his teasing, it was rather.. daunting, for a heart as closed-off as his to suddenly waltz into unfamiliar territory. Though, he supposed his heart wasn't as reserved anymore.

Hawks glanced away, the tips of his ears gradually starting to match the color of his wings, "I don't know, really. Just.. do nothing. Together?" His question floated in the air for a bit.

Atsumu thought about it for a bit, his eyes narrowing as he replied, "So you just want me in the same room for no reason?" A shit-eating grin plastered itself onto his pretty face while he did a horrible job at concealing his snicker. "What, do you enjoy my company or something?"

"No shit," Hawks grumbled, putting his hands on his hips. The blush on his face was obscured by the new visor, but his uncharacteristic, shy behavior seemed to tell Atsumu more than Hawks would have liked. "It's a yes-no question, Atsu."

A drawn-out hum from the med student only furthered Hawks' defensive attitude, but the joyful laugh that followed relieved most of the tension in his shoulders.

The brunet hooked his arm around Hawks', giving him a contented smile. "Well, if my beloved Kei doesn't mind me reading up on the different ways to perform mutant Quirk-related surgery..."

"Not at all."

"Then I think we're good to go!" Atsumu declared, "Need a pen? I can lend you one of mine—"

🪶

Nineteen-year-old Hawks chuckled quietly to himself as he watched his newly-established partner mingling with the public from a distance.

"The name is Doc Apollo and I'm looking forward to working with you all!" Atsumu cheerfully introduced himself to the crowd of civilians that had gathered to watch the now-resolved incident. He practically glowed in the daylight, soaking up the praise he got.

Hawks shook his head and sighed affectionately, his focus being pulled back to the police officer he had been discussing the details of the situation with. He reported things clearly and worded his thoughts in a way that would ensure this would be a quick and clean interaction, but he remained ever so patient on the outside. The ruckus from the group fawning over Atsumu rang in his ears, and the proud comments from the former did the same.

After wrapping up his conversation with the authorities, Hawks politely bid farewell and left them to deal with the technicalities of the affair. He swiftly made his way to Atsumu's side with but a single flap of his strong wings, the noise from their audience growing louder.

"Oh, it's Hawks! Look this way, look this way!"

"Hey hey, isn't it such an amazing opportunity to see him in real life?!"

"Thank you for your service, Heroes!"

With a year of official Hero business experience under his belt, it wasn't fresh information that Hawks was very well-received by the public. He was an efficient worker, as well as admired for reasons involving something he'd worked on: Charisma, one could say. The way he carried himself made him shine in the eyes of supporters, causing a spike in his popularity despite how 'new' he was as a Hero.

His hard work paid off; in addition to his good Hero work, no longer was he inexpressive or aloof, like someone had said all those years ago. Yet, it was only a mask — an act he put on for the fans.

At first glance, that didn't seem to be the case for Atsumu.

But Hawks knew better.

He had no doubt in his mind that the outgoing, confident Doctor Apollo would gain positive attention once he debuted. Now that the day finally came, it was almost surreal how intentional Atsumu's innocent, 'youthful Hero' demeanor was.

Yes, he was truly happy to be here — Hawks could tell that much — but the cynical boy he'd grown up with never really changed.

"You two work so well together! And Doc Apollo says he just started?" A journalist pushed their way into the front of the crowd, an audio recording device in hand, "What's up with that?"

"Ah, well," Hawks began, silently taking note of how Atsumu quickly adapted to the speaker and lowering his voice, "Apollo is actually my new partner! We'll be working together a lot from now on, isn't that right?" He hummed, looking toward the aforementioned Hero.

"That is correct, yes," Atsumu confirmed with a nod and a smile too big to be insincere, "It's a great honor! Hawks is such an awesome Hero, after all, don't you guys think?"

Hawks narrowed his eyes at Atsumu in playful accusation as the group of civilians enthusiastically agreed, only getting a cheeky smirk from his boyfriend in return.

How sly of him.

Later, once the ordeal was over and done with, the two Heroes continued their work throughout the day. A tiring, rewarding job, was how Hawks would put it. Atsumu didn't add anything onto the matter.

Eventually, their shift ended, and they stopped by Atsumu's apartment to rest a bit before heading to HQ.

"So, how was it?" Hawks eagerly awaited a response as he carefully took off his visor, examining it for damage before putting it away. "Your debut — it went well, didn't it?"

Atsumu huffed, moving his bangs out of his face, "You could say that," He trailed off, pausing until his next point. He fell down onto the couch, groaning, "But I really don't like dealing with all those people... They're so pushy and excited and loud, and I can't deal with noisy guys very well—"

A hand on his shoulder was all Hawks managed, along with a sympathetic look. "I know. It's okay. Though, you'll have to get used to it; they love you." Atsumu sighed and put his own hand over Hawks' nodding slightly.

The former didn't comment on that claim, however. He grew silent, appearing as if he'd withdrawn back into his thoughts. After a moment or two, Atsumu spoke softly, "Thank you for being there. It made things.. a lot easier for me."

"You did well," Hawks leaned down to press a kiss on Atsumu's temple, getting a defiant murmur in response. He chuckled.

They weren't going to talk about any of the other issues that went on inside either of their heads that day. And that was fine.

This was enough. For now.

#courtesy of saltysaccharin's thumbs #elysian fields #atsukei #they're so sweet awww it would be a shame if anything bad happenwd to them #it's okay they're besties first and foremost <33 #and they were roommates /j #there's a lil bonus after this 😆

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