~Trade Mistakes~ (EraserMic)

Face Our Fears

Rain pounded down on the window harder and harder, sounding like hail and rousing Aizawa from his sleep, a growl in his throat as he tried to stay unconscious for just a few more moments, the warmth of Hizashi's slender body inviting, wanting to just lie here for hours, his face pressed into the blond's long hair, Hizashi's arms curled around his waist and his head resting in the crook of his neck. It was Saturday, so he wouldn't have to get up for school....

....shit. It's Saturday...

Aizawa groaned quietly, untangling his body from Hizashi's and sliding out of bed, making sure to be quiet and not wake the sleeping blond.

After what happened last night and what was going to happen today, Aizawa figured it best to let him sleep just a bit longer.

The raven stalked down the hallway, taking a quick shower and throwing on some clothes, presentable but comfortable, before heading to the kitchen to fix breakfast. He sighed quietly, enjoying the silence of his empty living room as he padded across the tile and dug through the cupboards, searching for ingredients for something since he knew Hitoshi and Hizashi wouldn't want to eat fruit squeezes.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, he heard the soft creak of a door, yawns and unsteady footsteps on the hardwood floors as his bed-headed nephew stumbled into the kitchen in boxer shorts and an EraserHead T-shirt, looking like a zombie on sleeping pills. Aizawa snickered, making Hitoshi look up with unfocused indigo-blue eyes, a sleepy smile on his face.

"Morning uncle...." The boy yawned, waving his hand blurrily as he stretched his body upward and grabbed the container of coffee grounds, following a routine that was burned into his mind, over and over.

Wake up, make coffee, eat, terrorize uncle Shota.

He stood there, slumped at the counter and turning to look at Aizawa as the cup filled up with boiling water, the bitter scent filling the kitchen. "What's for breakfast...?"

Aizawa shrugged, scratching his head as Hitoshi handed him a cup, the routine also burned into his own mind, his autopilot taking control.

"I dunno. What do you want?"

Hitoshi stood there a second, taking a sip off his own coffee as a hopeful grin spread across his face.

".....waffles....?"

Aizawa stared at the boy's earnest expression, shaking his head a small smile spread on his own face, his hand reaching up out of habit and ruffling Hitoshi's hair.

"Waffles sound good."

Hitoshi's face lit up, doing a little dance.

"Uncle Shota's making waffles, uncle Shota's making waffles" He sang quietly and slightly off key, Aizawa's chest feeling tight as he chuckled at the dancing teenager.

"Jeez, you wrote that song when you were nine or something, and yet you still sing it when I make you food?"

Hitoshi nodded, smirking a little.

"Yep. I promised to sing it whenever you make me waffles, so UNCLE SHOTA'S MAKING WAFFLES, UNCLE SHOTA'S MAKING WAFFLES!"

"Hey, keep it down Toshi, Zashi is still asleep." Aizawa warned, his eyes narrowing as Hitoshi flushed and nodded, singing in a quieter voice as he danced his way out of the kitchen and sat down at the dining room table with a grin.

Aizawa rolled his eyes, digging out the ingredients needed and taking the ten minutes needed to make waffles for the two of them, grabbing the almost empty container of syrup from off the top of the fridge. He walked out into the dining room with plates, leaving an extra on the counter for Hizashi, setting on in front of Hitoshi and settling into his own seat.