Little Secret (Erasermic)

Drinks and Drunken Antics

I sat silent at the circular booth in the corner of the dimly lit bar, fingers tracing the rim of my partly filled glass idly. Hizashi sat across from me, brown bottle in his slender fingers, leaning back with his other arm slung over the back of the booth casually. He was in a substance-lacking conversation with Nemuri, who sat to his left nursing her third glass of scotch, starting to slow down on her intake. Toshinori was to my right, myself at the edge, Vlad to his right, Power Loader to his, and Snipe in between him and Nemuri. Ectoplasm and Cementoss had pulled up separate chairs and were sitting on the outside of the booth. 13 had declined her invite, as did Nezu, the former simply not a drinker and the latter with some business to attend to by the morning.

I tucked some fallen ebony strands of hair behind my ear, raising my glass to my lips as I watched everyone else engage in friendly banter. I let out a sigh, already wanting to go home after two hours sitting in the same spot. My fingers tapped against the side of the glass absentmindedly, and I began to zone out, staring down at some discarded grains of salt decorating the mahogany table.

"-ight Sho?" 

I took another slow sip, raising a hand to rub tiredly at one eye as I drowned out the chatter coming from all sides.

"Sho!"

I thought back to my current lesson plans, I had some light combat training and sparring matches planned for the following afternoon. Nothing huge, just a simple yet effective day to close out the week. Then I would be stuck at the dorms for the weekend with my rowdy problem children, probably having to break up multiple fights and arguments turned shouting matches between Bakugo and Midoriya... I quickly pushed those thoughts back and refocused on the thirty seven individual grains of salt in that small little pile on the table.

"SHO!" My head snapped up, my eyes connecting with questioning green balls of energy.

"Hmm?" I hummed, lifting my chin slightly as I scanned Hizashi's  slightly alcohol flushed face through half lidded eyes.

"Spacing out, man?" He chuckled, eyes flashing an emotion that only I would be able to pick up on. He lifted his hand to his ear, feinting a scratch. He tapped on the skin below his ear twice before dragging his nail down, never breaking eye contact. Our signal to ask the other silently if we were uncomfortable and needed to leave. I propped my elbow up on the table, fingers resting on my temple, tapping once.

No.

"Tired," I replied flatly, seeing his eyes glimmer in relief that I was willing to stay a little while longer, his smile stretching a bit wider and head nodding enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I feel ya Sho. This week's been l o n g," Hizashi stretched his arms lazily above his head before they settled  folded on the table. Nemuri snickered suddenly, and Zashi's gaze snapped to her.

"Something funny, Muri?" I asked quietly, watching as her lips formed a sly smirk, her head shaking lightly.

"Nope. Nothing at all," She paused, taking a rather large drink of her scotch, nearly finishing it off in just one swig. 

"Say, Shota-babe," she purred, setting her glass down and leaning over the table at me. "Any girls peak your interest lately?" My eyebrows raised slightly at the question. "Excuse me?" I missed the way Hizashi jolted slightly, his hands moving under the table to fidget slightly.

"Or guys?" she continued, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You never really talk about your love life," Snipe piped up, swirling his whiskey filled glass slowly, "So I'd assume that's why Kayama is curious," I rolled my eyes and downed the rest of my drink, not flinching at the slow burn crawling down my throat.