Fifty Shades of EraserMic (Shades of EraserMic #1)

Seeing Double

Shouta was tired. He'd been tired when he woke, tired each time his students shrieked or ran towards dangerous situations rather than away, tired when Emi showed up at the school babbling his ear off with those awful jokes and constantly pestering him to date her or something of that nature. Tired when he heard Yagi hacking, the wet sound of blood crawling up his throat, even the god-awful sensation of the desk beneath his hands.

Even the sound of breathing far too close to him, something that should be soft and quiet but just grated on his ears as spine-chillingly as the screech of nails on a chalkboard. So many times, he had to swallow down the screams for everyone to just stop, to give him a damn break for once in his life, and it was hard to choke that urge down with each passing hour he spent at U.A. Hell, the feel of eyes on him and those concerned looks aimed his way were too much.

He felt a touch of regret when he snapped at Nemuri when she tried asking him in the staff room if he was alright, her blue eyes betraying a concern he'd seen all day, and it tipped him in the wrong direction. He hadn't screamed nor shouted at her like he'd been longing to do to every unfortunate soul in path today, but his voice had been scathing, dripping with venom as he hissed his words at her to leave him alone, that he was fine, that he was just tired etc. etc.

Every excuse he could use without directly telling the poor woman to fuck off, for everyone in that room to fuck off and leave him alone for five seconds before his head exploded. It was just too loud. Too loud, too in his face, too bright and too much. Even the fabric of his costume felt like sandpaper against his skin today. The food was wrong, the air was wrong, the wind was like scratching branches on him, his desk felt too smooth and too cold making it feel wet and God all the papers.

They felt as if they were far too delicate in his hands but even then, they wouldn't pile together evenly making his jaw clench. He needed a break. He needed to relax, he needed to take five damn minutes and breathe until he was sure his urge to scream at everything faded away to a bearable level. It was only after he had snapped at Nemuri as venomously as he had that Hizashi had pulled him to their little teacher's lounge to question him though he didn't get a hint of heat like what he felt he deserved.

Instead Hizashi had merely held a hand out like some unspoken offer, something for Shouta to take if he wanted and when they were alone, he did take that hand weaving their fingers together. He'd let the blonde pull him close as he found his mouth moving again only this time had spilled every little thing wrong with the day it seemed and Hizashi, who deserved an award for being a saint, had just rocked him gently while letting him rant.

Listened for what felt like years until he felt deflated, slack as he dared to bury his face into the blonde's throat which any other day he would never allow himself to do. He hardly allowed physical affection when they were on the clock but today had been different. Then Hizashi had used one word to describe the mind space he was in; he was in sensory overload. Of course, the blonde knew what it was given his ADHD and he had seen what sensory overload did to the blonde, how he reacted, but he honestly had never thought it would affect him.

He knew a person didn't need a mental illness, didn't need to be neurodivergent, to go into sensory overload. Knew it and understood that. But he just never thought it could affect him like that, that he would be in his own personal Hell that seemed to just get worse with each passing minute within the hour until he was ready to snap. It was this fact, this little thing, that made Hizashi promise to do something special for him.

He didn't know if he meant it sexually or just in general, but Shouta had to admit some part of his brain liked the thought of being smothered in affection while the rest of him shrieked at the thought. That if Hizashi touched his skin then he'd melt to the floor and refuse to move. So, they parted when the bell rang, ending their lunch break, where he trudged back to his classroom feeling like the weight of the world had slammed down onto his shoulders in an attempt to crush him into the ground.