Literally Me With Hanta But I Have Only One Work Of Him

wait ive been more consistent than i thought id be

pat on the back for me !

contains: swearing, alcohol use word count: 3.3k

"get up."

touya groaned. it took him a couple of seconds, but when he finally came to he was instantly hit with a splitting headache. touya moved to bring a cooling hand to his forehead only to find that he could only feel a heavy tingling sensation in his arms— and in his hands and in his legs. all the telltale signs of a hangover— at least his typical (extreme) version of one. he even had tomura on his ass, all the boxes on the ‘i got totally wasted last night’ checklist were ticked off.  

“wake up.” 

touya heard a small thunk from somewhere nearby— probably tomura kicking something —and finally decided that it was time to blink his eyes open. 

immediately, he knew exactly where he was. touya could distinguish the coarse texture from the beat-up seven-year-old couch lying in the LOV staff room any day. the mixed smell of a dewy morning breeze and the lingering scent of touya's signature cigarette brand sent a pumping to his blood that couldn’t be ignored.  he grinned and lifted himself so he was resting back on his elbows, head tilted up in tomura's direction. “hey birdie.” 

tomura sucked in a breath through his teeth and spun around, going right back to sit at his desk. touya watched his blue-haired roommate, observing the way tomura put his glasses on before inevitably gluing his eyes onto his computer screen. tomura looked tired to say the least; his clothes were disheveled and his hair was a mess— as if he had been up all night.  “you went looking for me?” touya's tone was cocky. he reached for the water bottle beside him, the water bottle that somehow always ended up by his side after a long night. he never asked about it— the fear of a petty tomura deciding to take away his one princess privilege steering his decision.

but when tomura scoffed out a small, “no,” touya's grin faltered. “you were outside.”

touya took a sip of the room-temperature water, curious eyes on tomura. “outside?” 

“yeah.” tomura replied as he opened a drawer from his desk and skimmed through some documents. “wasted to shit asleep on the bench.” touya brows furrowed momentarily, attempting to skim through his drunken memories of last night. before touya could properly reconnect them, tomura spoke again. “you didn’t walk here?” tomura's red eyes met touya's blue ones, an intrigued expression shining through the lenses of his glasses. 

“shit, i don’t remember.” touya gained the courage to push past the tingling and move, swinging his legs off the couch. his boots hit the wooden floor beneath him as he gave a half-shrug. 

“you don’t remember?” tomura repeated, sounding annoyed. “where’d you even go?”

touya leaned back into the mustard-stained couch, hands pressing against its backboard. “that new bar.” his head fell back, smile pointed up to the room's ceiling. “moonlight.” the words fluttered off his tongue, the legacy of moonlight clear in his mind. 

“what the fuck!?” tomura’s chair let out a squeaky whine at its sudden movement. he had stopped typing his laptop, attention fully on touya.  "really?!"

“yep.” touya expressed with a pop of his mouth. “and i know their secret.” he said, sounding most obviously pleased with himself. it was the one thing touya had managed to remember from last night— he recalled repeating it out loud to himself for that exact reason. “young hires.”

[ ELEVEN HOURS EARLIER ]

keigo left three hours ago and you were still trying to convince yourself that you could last the final two hours of your shift on your own. 

the sky had grown dark, a lapis blue painting a beautiful backdrop for the lamp-lit city. the cool contrast created an orange-tinted scene inside of midnight. the constant clinking of beer glasses and clicking of heels against the bar floor had left a distant ringing in your ear— along with keigo's words about the nearby job opportunity. the rag in your hand scrubbed up against the surface of the wooden counter as you cleaned up a spill in thought. you were so deep in it that you almost didn’t hear a voice of question coming from beside you.

“excuse me. you— yeah you!” the voice gradually grew within range. you blinked out of your daze and turned your head in the customer's direction. the voice had come from a man who looked to be in his mid-30s and held a strong glare. 

“sorry, sir,” you muttered, tucking the rag under the counter and placing both your hands on the table, steady and attentive . “what would you like to drink tonight?”

“whiskey. neat.” he gruffed, resting his arm up against the bar's pillar.

you stopped a displeased expression from planting onto your face and forced a tight smile. “right up.” you reached for a glass on the shelf— along with the man's desired drink of choice —and began to pour. as you did, you were able to examine the customer. 

he was leaned right up against the counter, flannel jacket resting on the hardwood counter. he was a big guy with a big hat— the type of hat that reminded you of old western films. his bread wasn’t too long or bushy— it was just enough to frame his face in the right places, making him appear well-aged and rugged. using these observations, you put together that this man was from the countryside— and that’s before you accounted for his dirty hands, his worn jeans, and his manners. 

you placed the drink in front of the man and gave him a polite nod, hoping that would be enough to get him to go and bother someone else. but of course, it wasn’t. 

“hey.” he tipped his head a bit closer in your direction, fingers tapping along the rim of his freshly poured glass of whiskey. you gritted your teeth, mostly to mentally prepare yourself— another asshole encounter at work was the last thing you needed right now. the man then grinned, a large yet playful one. “this is a pretty nice city dontcha think?”

your eyes narrowed in suspicion. this could’ve been worse, way worse. 

“yeah, it is,” you replied matter-of-factly. you’ve been living in orion for just over three years now. and though you didn’t necessarily move here for the sights, you couldn’t deny that the town was beautiful.

what you liked about orion was it has a sense of community— and security. you’ve gotten used to the sound of kids calling to their friends in the streets while parents frantically chase them down. the song that slipped between your neighbors' windchimes remain a familiar melody in your mind. there was always some type of event, or function, or party. you liked it. it kept you, and everyone else, busy. distracted. 

the bearded man chuckled. he took a sip of the drink— face showing no reaction to the alcohol—before saying, “i’m actually new around these parts.” you knew he was lying. you’ve caught sight of him throwing up behind the bar twice within the three weeks. he had a reputation for those types of things.

what you hadn’t expected was for him to come to you tonight. he maintained a mindful eye on you, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “think i need someone to show me around the place— someone pretty like you.” he voiced. his lips curled up into a smile; one that showed he was confident that he’d win a date with you.  

you thought carefully, picking a response that would be respectful for an employee to use. “sorry, i really can’t. work has me really busy right now.” your voice tipped higher out of habit. you hoped your tone was clear enough. 

your hopes were quick to be crushed. 

the man winked and went on to declare, “you wouldn’t have to work with a guy like me around.” he flipped the bottom of his patterned sleeve up, leaving the material bunched up his biceps as he shamelessly flexed his muscles to you. it was clear to you now how drunk the man was. you could see it in the way his smile hung bright and his eyes sparkled like the wish from a million suns. 

you didn’t even have time to react before a separate voice got added to the equation. another man, a younger one who seemed to be in his mid-20s, walked up to your section of the bar. 

“can you fight with those things?” the demeanor of the dark-haired man was intimidating alone, in addition to his alternate style of clothing and his sharp facial expression, he came off as different. the lanky man hovered over the wannabe cowboy, shadowing him. “because these look pretty—“ the younger man’s hand slipped out from his leather jacket and cupped over the older man’s flexing muscle. “fake.” 

“hey— hey don’t touch me you goth— emo freak!” the countryman jolted out from under the latter's touch before he could make any lasting contact. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” he shot his arms up in complaint. "werido." he waved his middle finger to the man as he continued to back onto the crowded dance floor. 

the second man remained stoic as he watched the first walk away. “fucking idoit. i’m not even close to being gothic.” he scoffed as his arms crossed over his chest. the sway in his movement told you that this customer wasn't necessarily sober either.

“another jerk.” you muttered, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. you didn’t want to complain, considering that this guy just helped get that creep away from you, but this was turning into a stereotypical ‘the good guy is actually a bad guy’ plot twist, and you weren’t in the mood to get kidnapped tonight. 

a hard exhale fell from the younger man’s mouth, “what was that?” he sounded amused like he wasn’t offended that you just insulted him, but he sounded intrigued.

you felt a wave of hot shutter through your body, cheeks flaring up specifically. your face scrunched up, shoulders raising and eyes widening as you silently cursed the way your body reacted to embarrassment. then again, some things never change. “nothing.” you said, just as quietly as you said your last sentence. your hand urgently tapped for the forgotten rag under the counter to no avail. 

you held eye contact with the man until his crystal-lit orbs suddenly flagged down. his forehead fell to his forearm, which rested on the bar's marble counter, and his shoulders began to shake as he hickered out a string of loud laughs. 

you were baffled. 

“they really hired a kid to work here?” the man giggled.

“actually, i’m—“ 

“so, this is what midnight's been doing.” his eyes were back up on you now, gaze observing as his hair folded out of its side part and in front of his face. he was quick to swipe his hair back up with his galaxy-toned hand. 

“sorry?” 

the man just barely stumbled back, gripping the back of the bar chair before he could be considered a threat. he settled himself down on the chair. his body leaning against the bar's wooden structure, the same way the cowboy had done a moment ago. but this time it felt separate— for so many reasons you couldn’t narrow it down to just one. 

he looked at you when he answered, pupils dilated. “hiring college kids.” his eyes flickered close for a moment like he was making a mental note to remember his observation. 

you bit your bottom lip. you can’t deny it because it’s true, you are a college student. but the way he said it made it seemproblematic. before you could tap into that, you felt that something was off— you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you.

you stole a glance and to your concern, a pair of eyes were focused on you from the threshold of the staff room. instinctively, your body straightened up. your focus decreased on entertaining the customer and increased on actually doing your job. 

unsure if you were in earshot, you spoke again, calculated. “midnight is a good place.” you said. your fingers finally found the rag under the counter and your hands got back into the routine of wiping the counter, really trying to sell the ‘i’m too busy working to talk’ act… again. 

“yeah?” the man dabbled, like he was quickly losing interest in the conversation. but he went on, “what makes it so special then?”

it was such a strange question, but you’ve heard stranger before. “they have a cool looking website…?” 

it was the first thing that came to mind. 

the man laughed, but it wasn’t as loud and amused as before, just convinced. he slapped a hand on the table, using it as his pillar of support as he staggered back up into a standing position. you could hear him whispering something about “technology” and “young hires” as he stumbled off. 

just one strange interaction after another. 

ninety laboring minutes later you’re finally on your way home. on a breezy, autumn day like this one you found yourself extra appreciative of the close distance of your apartment. you knew that your roommate, rumi, was probably awake. not because she was waiting for you, but because she’s a biology major and you’ve come to learn they never sleep. 

still, on nights when you were the only one closing or had to run a quick errand before going home, rumi would call you to ensure your safety— and threaten to call the police to escort you if you didn’t get home soon. 

tonight ended up being was one of those nights. 

you had just turned the corner right around midnight’s back alley when you heard a sound. what started as a small cough quickly turned into hacking coughs and eventually the sound of splatters of vomit hitting the ground. you, silently, peaked around the corner of the alley. 

hunched over in the l-shaped corner behind the dumpster was your “hero” from earlier. 

he looked more battered down now, knees quivering underneath his weight as he pressed his head up against the rugged brick wall. your feet lead you closer. as you appporached, you could see how his dark hair adhered damply around the nape of his neck and how desperately his hands clung onto the wall. 

“oh my god, you’re the guy from earlier.” you blurted out loud, mostly to verbally confirm it to yourself. the guy's head just lolled against the brick wall, tipping down as he threw up another liter of liquor onto the pavement. your face grimaced as you glanced away. “you’re really drunk.” you commented, fingers anxiously fiddling at your sides. 

“no fucking duh.” the man spat. he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his leather jacket and then waved a flappy hand in your direction. “beat it.” he deadpanned, scratchy voice sending a chill up your spine. 

your mind now rushed with questions on whether you should leave him or not. you considered the factors. pro: he did save you from a potential creep. con: his attitude is intangibly rotten.

but there must be a reason behind it, right? like maybe he had a bad day— a lot of bar attendees do. the point was, even though you didn't know him, he did seem to have good intentions. 

you took a step toward him, “i’m gonna—“

“don’t.” his voice snapped into a growl, low and brisk, though you remained calm. you could see him peeking at you from under his arm, checking to see if you had left or not. searching like he had already anticipated you to be long gone.

when his gaze met yours— seeing you still in your work clothes, clearly very exhausted from your long trip, and still willing to help him —he couldn’t do anything else but glance away. 

slowly, you put a hand out. you could hear murmurs of keigo's voice in your head saying that you were “being too nice.” you shook his words off of your mind and pushed forward. “i’ll just walk you down the block.” you stepped under his propped up arm, swiftly redirecting his weight so he was leaned up against your left shoulder and had his arm wrapped around your right shoulder. you heard his breath hitch as you altered his position. he didn’t protest, but rather flowed with your direction.

you took a deep breath, stabilizing yourself. “nightlife is.. brighter down there. so you can find your way home by yourself.” you took a step forward, delicately nudging his side. he took the physical indication and moved forward, taking a slow, but sure step. you let out another slow breath; most times your last-minute plans didn’t work well so you you were satisfied.

a couple dozen steps later the young man spoke— well slurred —“thought all your bougie alcohol was fake.” he tone wasn’t confident like the words he had said weren’t originally his. he swayed a bit, the scent of an indistinguishable amount of various alcohols spiking through your nose. “stupid trust fund kid company.” he grumbled.

you didn’t blame him for the way he thought. midnight's popularity had shot up out of nowhere just a couple of weeks ago. you heard that they were doing so well in the market that other smaller businesses were shutting down because of it down. at the time you didn’t think much of it. you didn’t know that people were genuinely upset about it. 

after a long hushed walk in the eerie wind, you stepped upon the brightly lit street of the plaza. thought most the shops on this side of town consisted of sketchy dispensaries and personal businesses, it was still safer than leaving him behind the alley of a well-known bar with a high-kept reputation. 

you led him to one of the benches facing the oversight of city buildings. the sky twinkled in each of the visible window's reflection, sparkles jumping and dancing across city rooftops. when you let go of the man's weight, he immediately melted into the bench below him. you huffed out a strangled breath, swinging back on to dust your hands off. you could hear club music threatening to spill out of a building across the street from where you stood. you placed your hands on your hips and countered your breathing, slowing it down as a smile crept onto your face. 

the man sighed from his spot on the bench, catching your attention. “ya' ever looked at the sky?” the question was half asked, like it wasn’t even meant to be answered by you. you turned to him and sure enough, he was staring at the night sky, eyes hazy enough to certify him as dreaming. 

out of curiosity, you turn to the sky. orion had the type of beauty that you couldn’t describe. it was the type of city you’d see pictures of on the front of postcards, painted and perfect— perfectly feel good. 

you do look at the sky when you have time, which isn’t often. it’s nice to wish on the stars and share sprinkled false hope with other people across the world. you always wished for one day to feel exciting the way you were promised every day should feel. 

another comment cut you out of your tangled mind. “next meteor shower is march thirteenth.” the man whispered into the wind. you could see it in his eyes that his message wasn’t necessarily said to inform you but because he needed to say it—  he needed to tell someone. 

a vibrating sound coming from your pocket stopped you from being able to reply to the man's drunken speech. you pulled your phone out and read the contact name, rumi.

for her to be calling it must be super late. you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, “i’m sorry but i have to go!” you told the man frantically. his head just tilted more towards the sky, fully consumed in its beauty, already acting like you were gone. “well, get home safe!” you gave an awkward wave to him— well his back —as you skipped into a jog, running back home.

to your luck, the days only got more interesting.

previous masterlist next

“it’s good in the dark, good in the dark” | LCD soundsystem

comment to be added to current taglist: @peachesvault @tlissablr @evilari111

i’ve been posting too many smaus i need to go back to my roots

drabbles coming soon … mwahahahah

Denki taking Bakugo to the skate park and Bakugo just being bad at it

(Sorry I went Mia I kinda got a job and it takes more time that I thought lmao 😭, also this was supposed to be a sketch but i ended up painting it kajskjasjkax)

Kiribaku drawing cuz I was bored

We’re so back !!

that’s nice honey.. 🥰

this is how i feel all the time every morning

New theme BOOYAHHH

THANK U LINAA i suppose ill let the threats from last night slide...🙄

looked at ur about and we have so much in common !!!

hiii hi! what do we have in common? i will literally talk ur ear off abt it

alsoooo krbk fan spotted???!!?! (i’ll actually freak out)🤗🤗🤗🤗