Reassurance

The day to day work keeps Sol from thinking about the body builder comments too much. She doesn’t have time to scroll through her phone endlessly, and she keeps her applications from sending notifications when she’s at work. Taking down a villain doesn’t allow for precious time to be eaten away on something as trivial as a phone app as it is, but even having seen the information just the once… It sticks with her, like a bad dream.

Some days she feels fine, good even. Sol isn’t exactly looking for civilians to fawn over her, but seeing a few starry-eyed gazes turned her way, catching a whispered comment about her loveliness- it’s hard to recall those unkind words in the face of such genuine admiration. She walks away from those encounters with a smile, and the worry gets buried deep, marked as inconsequential.

And besides, she knows better. Any hero one could ask will say much the same thing about reading comments and reviews, never mind the fact that there are classes on this sort of thing. It’s mandatory in many of the hero courses nowadays, and there are textbooks written about it, psychiatrists that specialize in it. Classes, friends and doctors alike all say the same thing: even if an article is sweet, even if it’s a puff piece and it makes the hero in question grin? The comments are always off limits. And they should be.

It’s atrocious, how many people turn vicious as soon as they’re protected by a screen, and Sol knows they can get worse, that this kind of harassment is just the tip of the iceberg. These aren’t even people seeking her out.

Maybe that’s why she finds it so tempting to look, why she thinks this time might be safe. These people are expecting her to come read them, not truly. Maybe that’s why she finds herself falling back into the habit when the house is quiet and empty, or Toshinori is too busy to notice. She doesn’t want to read hurtful things, really, she doesn’t, but… Sol moves the mouse and scrolls down, leaning her chin into the palm of her hand as she starts to read. Losing track of time this way is much too easy.

Some of them are minor, backhanded things that she can ignore at first. They take a moment to puzzle out, and then by the time she’s re-read it, it’s taken on a whole new, searing tone that feels much like a blade pressing into her ribs. This site is more popular than most, and it’s known for being less moderated than some. Sol knows she shouldn’t be surprised by the amount of vitriol she finds, aimed at herself and others, but… It never fails to leave her shaken.

By the time Sol is able to pull herself away from the keyboard, she’s feeling sick and uncomfortable in her own skin. Gone are all the memories of kindness or admiration, she’s near tears. Sol is second guessing her everyday routines, how she goes about keeping in shape, the exercises she does so she can be strong enough to- Sol’s lips quiver and she bites down on them to try and stem the tide. What does all of that matter when people think of her this way? She starts to sniffle, and then realizes that she can hear Toshinori puttering around in the kitchen. Rather than bothering him, rather than letting the dam of her feelings break open and- and whining about something so trivial, she heads straight for the bedroom, intent on hiding away until she’s calm again. She can get herself together without help. She can piece herself back together without worrying him needlessly. He has so much on his plate already, the last thing he needs is this. Sol climbs into bed, tears stinging her eyes, and yanks the bedclothes up over her head.

She feels terribly, achingly lonely, but her mouth stays closed. She wishes she’d never looked at the damn website.

Toshinori doesn’t notice the silence at first. He’s too busy prepping food for tomorrow’s lunch and considering what to do with the evening they have ahead of them. It’s increasingly rare that they have this much time at home with one another, and he wants to be sure to make the best of it, especially as they’re both known to be called away at a moment’s notice. He finishes washing the vegetables and turns off the tap, shaking his hands carefully over the sink so he won’t drip water all over the floor. He starts to hum, grabbing a small towel to dry off his hands with and then… Pauses. His hands still. The house is strangely, almost frighteningly, quiet. Sol had been working on a few last-minute reports, the last he’d seen of her, tapping frantically away at the keyboard. There’s no taps or clacking keys any longer though.

Toshinori carefully folds and hangs the towel back up, wandering through the house to where he’d last seen Sol on the computer. Surely, if she’d finished, she would have come to find him? He frowns when he sees the computer on and Sol gone, and frowns harder when he sees the blinking ad on the corner of a trashy news site. He’s seen that logo before, has even talked about the lack of moderation on it to a few of his fellow heroes, including… Including Sol. His shoulders straighten, a knot forming in his stomach as he leans in close to scroll through the commentary, wondering why exactly Sol was- His stomach feels like it drops into his toes.

He straightens up immediately, tension running down his spine. “Sol?” He calls out, hoping she’ll say something, hoping that she’s just run to the restroom. There’s no answer. He strides through the house, stomach continually twisting with nerves and guilt that he hadn’t noticed, that he- Toshinori comes to a stop in the bedroom doorway. He’s isn’t terribly surprised to find that she’s underneath the blankets, trying to stifle her tears, but it hurts, knowing she’s hurting so badly.

“Sol?” He says again, tone a bit softer. He wants to swoop her up into his arms, to crush her to his chest and soothe the tears, put a stopper in the pain, but… Sometimes people need time. Sometimes crying is the best thing. If she wants to be alone, if she tells him to leave- Toshinori swallows. He hopes she doesn’t, but he’ll give her the space.

A soft, watery sounding “...yes?” reaches his ears.

He’s not entirely sure he wants to bring it up this way, but he can’t ignore it. “I… I saw the computer,” he says softly, taking a few hesitant steps towards the bed. “The comments on that site-”

“I know,” she interrupts, and the sadness in her voice wrenches at his heart, crushes it in his chest. “I know I shouldn’t have been. Every hero, every celebrity knows to stay away from things like that, especially when-”

Toshinori crosses the room, sitting down carefully so as not to disturb or surprise her and tugs gently at the blankets. Sol lets them go without a fight, though she does avert her eyes, awkwardly brushing away the red hair falling into her face. Toshinori stops her, taking both her hands in one of his own and then taking over the action. His touch is slow, and gentle and Sol’s eyes fall closed as he fixes her hair.

“Everyone falls to prey to it at some point,” he confesses, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. “And anyone who says they don’t is trying to save face. Everyone is curious about things like that, everyone wonders what people are saying about them.” Toshinori pauses, frowning for a split second. “Maybe not those with a telepathy quirk, but most everyone else,” he finally corrects, drawing a soft laugh out of her. “You don’t need to feel guilty for reading it, but I don’t want you to believe them,” Toshinori adds, voice even softer.

“I know,” Sol murmurs, leaning into the warm touch of his hand. “But I look in the mirror and wonder- are they right? I’m not… soft, I-”

Toshinori stops her with a finger on her lips. “That settles it,” he says, hoping he looks kind, yet a bit stern as he lifts his chin. “The rest of the night I’m going to show you what you look like to me.”

“Toshi-” Sol starts, lips parting, but Toshinori only pinches them closed.

“Nope! I’ve decided. Besides, those people? They could only dream of seeing you the way I do. Of the sweet smile you have whenever you see me first thing in the morning, of-” Toshinori feels heat creeping up his throat and across his cheeks. Can he even keep himself together when he says all this? Maybe he didn’t think about how tricky this might be when he’s ridiculously tempted to trip over his own words. “Of the, the way you laugh, or- I’m being serious!’ He insists when Sol starts chuckling.

“I know,” she soothes, reaching up to tug at a lock of his hair. “Toshinori, you don’t have to do this. I know how you feel,” she starts, but then Toshinori is interrupting her with a kiss. It’s chaste and quick and startles her into silence, which prompts him into giving her another, and another, until she’s smiling against his lips.

“I’m attracted to you for a myriad of reasons,” he finally pauses to confess, wishing he could keep himself from blushing, from feeling nervous. “And many of them have nothing what-so-ever to do with your looks. But these arms?” He says, dragging his calloused fingertips over her bare shoulders and biceps. He pauses in the crook of her elbows, feeling her pulse thrum under his touch. “I love the strength of them, I love that your strength is visible, and that people everywhere can take one glance at you and know you’ve put in the work needed to be strong enough to save them. To lift them up, to carry them.” He leans in close, leaves a trail of kisses down the muscles, all the way to her hands. Sol shivers at the tender touches, watching him intently when he lifts his head to meet her eyes.

“I love knowing that you have my back, that your speed and strength help keep you safe, as well as the people you want to save.” Slowly, gently, Toshinori lays her back down on the bed, heart skipping as he watches her red hair spread over the pillow. He can see her hero outfit clearly in his head, the golden corona around her head, the abs and toning of her body barely hidden from view. In hero clothes or civilian clothes, she’s lovely. “You’re gorgeous, Sol, and if they can’t admire your strength, I don’t know that they know what the word means.”

“Flatterer,” Sol teases, but her tears are all dry now and she’s starting to smile. Toshinori always does this, always brings out the best in her, the best emotions, the strongest drive to keep going, to pick herself back up- She feels mildly ridiculous for not going to him sooner, for letting herself get so caught up in her own head.

“It’s not flattery when it’s true,” he insists, gently parting her thighs so he can kneel between them, can lean over her to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “I mean every single word, Sol. Your strength, and the musculature that comes with it?” Toshinori starts at her shoulders, fingers and thumbs working into the muscles before he skims over her chest and down her stomach, he squeezes the tops of her thighs, grinning when she flexes in response, just for show, just to tease. Some of the tension in him eases, because he must be doing something right if she’s starting to smile so easily, starting to play and enjoy herself. “Everything about you is perfect, is exactly the way you’re supposed to be,” he says softly and then grunts in surprise when Sol hooks her legs around him to tug him off balance. He catches himself before he can fall on her, but then Sol is kissing him, mouth warm and insistent and Toshinori entirely forgets his own plans. He pulls away, trying to reorganize his own thoughts and then presses his cheek to hers, breathing roughly. “I.. I love everything about you. Your sense of humor, the drive in you - every muscled inch.”

Sol’s hips arch, which nearly makes Toshinori choke as she tightens her legs around him, but it’s then that she realizes he’s right. His view of her, ever positive, warm and kind, helps immensely, but honestly? She wouldn’t trade her muscles if it meant giving up even a fraction of her strength. If it meant that she lost out on saving one more person, if that meant she was just a sliver of a second slower? She would turn down the option without thought. She wants to save people.

And then Toshinori is loosening the grip she has with her thighs. He backs up until he can lay on his stomach, feet hanging over the edge of the bed, and partially pushes up her shirt. His kisses along her abs are too soft at first, tickling, and she wriggles, but doesn't make him stop. She can’t hold back her smile though, bordering just on the verge of laughter.

"This is serious, you know," he murmurs, trying for a poker face and failing utterly. His smile spells out everything he’s feeling, everything he’s thinking. "I'm trying to show you how lovely you are."

“So I’ve gathered,” she says softly and then tenses when his mouth moves lower. Just like the kisses along her abs, Toshinori starts off too soft, reverent, worshipful, and the way he touches her, has always touched her- Sol revels in it. She has to close her eyes for a moment, to keep herself from getting overwhelmed by the flood of soft emotions, but soon enough her eyes are snapping back open. She wants to watch, to witness the pleasure he’s giving her with more than just the sensation of touch. All traces of laughter slowly fade as Toshinori kisses her inner thigh. His fingers mirror the action, gentle enough to make her shiver, but it doesn’t tickle any longer, now when she tenses it’s because her pulse is speeding. It’s because desire is threading itself through her veins as Toshinori’s tongue traces patterns over her skin. Sol sighs when he moves from her thigh and hums when his mouth closes over her clit.

It’s all too tempting to change the tone of things then, to push back and urge him to use his strength - he would roll with it, would go with whatever desire piqued her interest - but she holds herself back. Toshinori had been serious about showing her what he thought of her, and every press of his tongue and stroke of his fingers is making her tremble, faster than she ever would have thought. “Toshi,” she whispers, and then he’s pressing closer, sucking and she has to curl her fingers into the blankets or risk pulling his hair. He makes a noise then, muffled against her, and it takes Sol a long moment to realize it’s because her thighs are tense and pressed tight to either side of his head. She can feel him smiling, even as she forces herself to relax, and then he’s pulling back, just long enough to drag in a ragged breath before he starts all over again, just a bit faster, just a bit harder.

When she arches her hips, when her thighs start to tense against his ears again, Toshinori’s hands move to curl around her thighs. Not to hold her down, not to press her back, but to help. He moves with the roll of her hips, times the stroke of his tongue with the flexing of her muscles and makes lovely sounding noises against her whenever their eyes meet. She curses, shaking, half expecting him to pause, to take a breath or slow things down. Toshinori keeps the same, steady, eager pace though, even when one of the blankets pops a seam in her grip. Sol’s lips part, and she’s fairly sure she’s going to say his name, to urge him to do something, to slow, or go faster, or maybe to- but all that comes out is a rough, drawn out moan as she comes, eyes fluttering shut. Part of her recognizes that Toshinori is holding onto her hips now, to keep her from bucking him off, to keep her from rolling away, but she doesn’t go limp until the pleasure finally ebbs. Toshinori only pulls away when she lets go of the blankets, breathless and licking his lips, and grins when he sees that her eyes are open again, though fairly unfocused. His hold on her loosens and he presses another kiss to her thigh, laughing when she starts shivering all over again.

“C’mere,” Sol murmurs, reaching out for him. Toshinori obliges, hand stroking up her body as he goes, eyes still soft enough to make her mildly embarrassed.

“Do you understand what I see?” Toshinori asks, nuzzling against her ear and down her jaw as he lays beside her.

“Maybe a little,” she teases, drawing him into a slow kiss that has Toshinori shivering in her arms. He breaks it only reluctantly, blinking, as if he’s trying to focus on what exactly it is that he wants to say.

“A.. a little?” Toshinori mutters, expression clearing, sounding mildly offended. A smile follows right afterwards though, easing any potential sting his tone might cause. “We can’t have that. I guess I should show you again then, hmm? If you’re up for it.”

Sol laughs, pulling him in close with a hand on the back of his neck. “With you? Always.”