Fifty Darker Shades of EraserMic (Shades of EraserMic #2)

In Between The Thighs!

This chapter, quite honestly, is like a blend of two scenarios I wanted to do very badly! I wanted to do something with voyeurism on Shouta's part and exhibitionism on Hizashi's but I know I'd done it in the previous story and to use a pillow was honestly something else I wanted to do! So, this chapter was made! I hope that you all enjoy Hizashi humping himself silly with a body pillow and his husband watching him with a little help! I know I certainly enjoyed writing it! I can't believe I only have two more chapters to write! Until we meet again ❤️

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Hizashi wasn't a naturally anxious person. He didn't get wrapped up in his own thoughts nor did he let his darker, worried filled fantasies get ahead of him. He didn't like to play with the what-if's or think ahead to the worst case situation. He knew it was better to have the negatives in mind along with the positives. It was one of the things his mothers taught him early in life; that you couldn't have the good without the bad. The bad without the good. It was all about finding silver linings in the situation.

About finding the positives so he wouldn't dwell on the negatives. Maybe it was for the best that his mothers taught him that at a young age. Maybe it was the worst. But there were some scenarios that required thinking. There were situations that needed an in-depth evaluation before diving head first into it. Whether that was in their day to day life or sexually, he and Shouta often talked on the negatives. On the positives. There was no topic undiscussed or picked apart when it was brought up to one another.

Their first challenge had been one of learning sexually what both wanted. To pick it apart in the aftermath when they were twisted up together. They'd had plenty of moments just like that with this second challenge of theirs. Reflecting on how drastic the past seven months had been together but the most recent "problem" of theirs was Shouta's return to patrols. In the past week, the black-haired man had become much more confident when it came to walking with his prosthetic. More accustomed to it.

There was hardly much of a limp left due to the hours of practice with his physical therapist and on his own. His husband seemed to be itching for that independence and he didn't fault the man for it. Not one bit. But it didn't erase the icy pulse of panic he'd felt when Shouta had tried floating to him after dinner about returning to patrols. It didn't stop the irrational fear that hit him that screamed for him to beg Shouta not to do it. To not go back out there when he was so vulnerable. The first time Shouta mentioned it had been so casual.

On a night sitting at the dining room table together where they had gotten a start on their grading. Trying to make the workload from becoming too overwhelming while they were on their vacation. He didn't want to brush it off and so he had agreed with his husband that they should at least start in on it to get papers passed back before break. It was that night that his husband first mentioned going back on his patrols. He'd been terrified at the thought when they agreed to talk about it at a later date.

It's what led to their most recent conversation. He'd been trying to choke that panic and worry down when they'd turned in for bed when his husband asked that they talk more in depth about it. He'd been scared shitless at the thought of letting his husband out into the public. To chase after villains when he could be hurt horribly. And he'd tried to vocalize those worries of his to the black-haired man. He'd held those rough hands in his when he'd express his worry given, he was only now beginning to run on that prosthetic of his.

Shouta had tried to gently soothe his worries away, but it didn't mean he didn't worry. It didn't mean that he didn't wanted to invalidate them, he knew that, and yet he'd refused to think of it any other way. He didn't want to let him go. He didn't want Shouta to resume his hero work. He wanted to keep his husband right where he could see him and keep him from ever being hurt so brutally. He knew it was an irrational response, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling it. It was a choking, overwhelming feeling.