Black Tie-EeraserMic

Black Tie

The award is a huge deal, judging by the way Yamada’s eyes are four times their normal size and gathering tears in their corners. The blond bites his bottom lip, but his grin is breaking loose anyway. His leg bounces in excitement where he’s sitting on the couch beside Aizawa, holding the deep, crimson red envelope containing the congratulations note in his shaking hands.

Aizawa carefully takes the paper away and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. Yamada immediately enters his space, wrapping his arms around Aizawa’s shoulders and burying his face into Aizawa’s neck. The voice hero laughs into his husband’s shirt and Aizawa find his own smile growing in size.

Yamada’s happiness had always been contagious.

“Congratulations, Hizashi,” Aizawa says, rubbing his hand up and down his husband’s back. “You deserve this.”

The award comes with a ceremony, where it and several other big trophies will be given out to personalities in the music and radio industries. Judging by the fancy envelope, sealed with a gold wax print, it will be a black tie affair.

Yamada had been to several smaller events, charities and awards, presentations and festivals. You name it, and the blond had been to it either as a guest, announcer, or participant. Aizawa normally skipped out on these activities, but not this one.

When Yamada pulls away and asks if he’ll come, Aizawa immediately responds, “Of course.”

This is how he ends up on a plush carpet later that week, dressed in a charcoal grey suit with a teal blue pocket square that matches Yamada’s dress shirt, with shiny black shoes that don’t even belong to him, and his hair slicked back into a braided bun. His hand is pressed gently into the small of his husband’s back, the blond also dressed to the nines, with his matching shirt, black jacket and waist coat, and hair in a long, loose braid pulled over his shoulder to cascade down his chest. Despite this position giving the impression that Aizawa knows what he’s doing, Yamada is the one who carefully taps his dress shoes against Aizawa’s when they need to shift their pose for another set of cameras. Aizawa keeps his mouth shut in what he hopes looks like a calm smile, as he’d practiced it in the mirror a few times, and lets Yamada take the lead.

No one here can outshine the voice hero and the cameras are eating up every grin Yamada gives them.

So is Aizawa.

When they finally take their places at their table for the night, Aizawa is made well aware that Yamada has noticed the way Aizawa keeps looking at the other man from below his lashes, a smirk tugging at his lips when he does so. A few seconds after settling into their seats, Yamada’s hand finds his thigh, at first resting there in what would look like a normal display of affection to any onlookers, but as the second presenter walks up on stage to start their speech, that hand goes inching higher.

Yamada smiles wide, and while the rest of the room may be laughing at whatever the presenter had just said, Aizawa knows by the small squeeze to his leg the blond just gave him that, that smile was for him.

Bad move, Hizashi, Aizawa thinks, casually leaning back in his chair to rest his arm on it. The relaxed position gives him the opportunity to slide his hand below the tablecloth and into his lap without bringing attention to him. The other people at their table are still staring at the stage as Aizawa wraps his hand around Yamada’s wrist and pulls it further up his thigh. The blond shifts in his seat a bit, but continues looking away.  Aizawa laces his fingers with Yamada’s before bringing his hand over the quickly growing bump in his dress pants.