Closer // EraserMic

Closer

Hizashi honestly hadn't been expecting it. He'd kissed Shouta on the forehead before the other had headed out for hero work, and had spent an hour coming up with a campaign plan for the radio event in a couple of days. He'd pulled out his whiteboard to mark everything he could think of, doodling whenever his thoughts strayed, and had locked up the house securely when he left.

The radio station was lively--the crew were all in good spirits, chuckling and joking around as Hizashi's voice boomed into the microphone. It was a weekday, so he only had to stay until two in the morning rather than five. Wednesdays were devoted to taking calls from listeners and allowing them to vent out their frustrations and receive advice, and no matter how mundane or outlandish the problem, Hizashi did his best to give good advice.

The first three callers had been typical--trouble with work, trouble with romance, trouble with Quirk use--but the fourth caller he took was a shock.

"Hello and good evening, dear listener!" Hizashi greeted cheerfully into the microphone, listening closely for a voice on the other end. There was silence for a couple of seconds, and he was beginning to think maybe the connection had cut out or something, until a tired, flat voice said,

"Why didn't you do the dishes. I specifically asked you to do the dishes so when I got home from patrol I could have stuff to make us dinner. Tell me why, Hizashi."

Hizashi's mouth snapped shut and he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from sputtering out something stupid. The crew was now looking at him with wide eyes, and his producer made a motion with his hand that told Hizashi to answer the voice. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he said,

"Well, you see, I was busy..."

"Busy drawing frogs all over your whiteboard?" Came the faintly annoyed voice. Hizashi felt himself blushing all the way down to his throat.

"Frogs are very important," he whispered.

"I'm getting take-out," the voice yawned, before adding on irritably, "No dinner for you."

He hung up.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hizashi could see his crew laughing their asses off, and it took Hizashi a few moments to compose himself. When the light blinked signifying another call, he answered it with a rushed 'Hello!' and the segment continued on like normal.

When the show ended, Hizashi gathered all his things and made his way out the door, but his producer stopped him just short of leaving, an amused glint to his eyes.

"Who was that, Mic?"

"What?"

"On the radio earlier, complaining about the dishes. That your roommate?"

He wouldn't call Shouta his roommate--more like his husband of five years, actually--but pretty much everyone that wasn't a Yuuei teacher only knew Shouta as Hizashi's roommate and nothing more. So he just nodded before pushing past his producer, racing home.

He hoped he hadn't made Shouta angry--Shouta didn't like calling people at all, and if he'd called then that meant he was severely pissed! Why didn't he do the dishes like he was supposed to?! He was dumb! He might have just ended their entire marriage!

(He might be overreacting a bit, but seriously. If Shouta ever called someone else, unless it was for an emergency, there was a reason to believe you'd fucked up badly.)

When he stumbled into their apartment after unlocking the door, he kicked his boots off and shrugged his leather jacket from his shoulders, being careful not to make too much noise. He flicked on the lights and set his keys on the counter, before noticing something on the dining table--a small box of Chinese takeout; fried rice and dim sum, his favorites.