Hook [Jon/Sigga]

“Jon?”

“Mmm.” Came the mumbled response and the teal haired third year rolled her eyes before tugging back the pink and blue comforter on her bed, unearthing a mass of green dreadlocks. The head of hair shifted, drawing back into its dark recess of warm downy bliss. Simultaneously, a cold foot sought her leg to touch in retaliation.

“Jon!”

“What?” The annoyed French did little to deter her as she tugged again until two half moon slivers of grey blinked confusedly and a freckled nose scrunched adorably. It’d been what attracted her to the third year last night. “It’s too early, babe.”

“It’s ten.” Maeko replied, bending down to press a kiss on the closest freckle, and Jon mumbled, stretching arms up and out from under the protective warmth of bedding and yawned. She wondered if those paintbrush freckles had extended past their shoulders, and after last night, she had the definite answer of yes.

“It’s Saturday,” they countered, a hand already seeking her out, wrapping around a thigh. Calloused fingertips kneaded gently, intending to pull her back under the covers and sleep the rest of the day away. It sounded like the best way to past the time.

“It’s Wednesday,” she lied, enjoying the sudden gasp as Jon surged upward, hair a wild mane as they dragged hands through the messy bedding, grabbing a green phone from somewhere between them.

Clicking the home button, it lit their face with washes of green and pink of the background image of the local gardens. They squinted at the large date plastered above the time and made it three seconds as the gears in their head ground to a complete halt. They then flopped backwards with a huff, phone on their chest, fingers loosely curled around it. “Not cool.”

A soft sweet laugh was their only answer as Maeko slid from the covers and bent down to retrieve her stockings from the floor. “I have to meet my study group in an hour.”

Jon stuck out their tongue. “Blow them off.”

Tugging on the right stocking until it was straight, Maeko slipped out of range of grabby hands and slid a simple yellow skirt on, forging the usual school uniform. She planned to meet her group off campus at the park. She followed with a white button-up shirt with little pastel flowers along the sleeves. “As tempting as that is…” Buttoning it, she checked her reflection in her mirror and reached for her brush. “Some of us Gen students have to actually study. We all can’t be heroes.”

Turning to their side and tucking an arm under their head, Jon sleepily watched her brush out the long teal locks, dutifully braiding it in an intricate pattern. She made it look so easy, deft fingers weaving, and they grinned when she paused at the hickey left on her neck, just above her collarbone. She met the pleased look in the mirror with a flat, exasperated one and rolled her eyes again.

“You don’t think yourself a hero?” Jon asked neutrally, propping their head up with a fist.

“How’s being a lie detector going to help me fight a villain?”

“Knowing when a villain’s lying? Uh, that’s a really awesome Quirk. Plus, you can make them tell the truth. Like that’s the absolute shit!”

“You were listening to me last night?” Maeko set her brush down, facing Jon again as she searched for a hairband.

Meeting Maeko at the bar had been a fluke in their favor. After spending the evening with the other interns for the usual after-work social, the teal haired beauty had been a tall drink of water. Different careers and classes they’d never officially met before that night. Weird happenstance, Maeko knew Jon (Through word of mouth or class reputation, the line was a little blurred) and was happy to chat over a few drinks. They struck gold when she invited them back to her room after hours. “Of course. And might I add, I’m also genuinely enjoying watching you.” Jon held up a pink band and gave it a wiggle.

“That work on everyone?” Maeko crossed her dorm room, reaching for the hairband as it was pulled away.

“Only the cutest ones.” Grinning, they gave up the hairband in favor of wrapping an arm around the teen’s waist and pulling her back onto the bed. She went willingly, melting against them.

“Jonny, I need to brush my teeth,” she whispered.

They countered with a simple, “So do I.” Brushing a few careful stray hairs over an ear, Jon trails fingers against her jaw, tilting her chin up a fraction. A teasing brush of lips against the corner of her mouth. It lasts for a moment, quick and chaste before they’re pulling away. She followed the fleeting warmth, nearly falling for the trap before sighing.

“I can’t.”

That was fair. Far be it from them to impede scholarly pursuits. “Can I see you again?”

Maeko nearly shivered at the sweet murmur against her ear and for a fleeting moment, thought about calling out sick. The hand on her waist was still, neither pushing nor pulling her decision. They smelled like cedar, clean and fresh as the night before. Or maybe it was saffron, earthy and soft. She didn’t quite know how to describe them. They were impossibly warm underneath her, slight and deceivingly so. Even with the barrier of the comforter between them, she can feel the subtle shift of muscle under her hand when they exhaled.

“This isn’t a onetime thing?”

The look was so quick, a barely there frown before they were all easy smiles by the time she leaned back. “Don’t listen to every rumor you hear. If you want it to be one nightstand, that’s cool. But if you prefer the complete bedroom set, I can definitely do that.”

Maeko tried not to laugh, but it slipped in an elegant snort as she buried her face against Jon’s neck. “You’re so dumb,” she muttered.

“Eh,” Jon shrugged lightly. “Honestly, my head’s just a big grab bag of stupid that I shake fortune cookie sayings out a couple times a day.”

The pause was deliberately long. “I can’t tell if you’re actually that self aware or not.”

“What?”

“That actually answers everything.”

“You said actually twice.”

Maeko leveled them with a cool stare before reaching for the closet pillow.

“Ack!” Jon laughed, burrowing further under the covers. “Stop hitting me!”

“You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Jon switched their phone to the right ear, crushing it against a hitched shoulder as they struggled with their shoe, tugging it on with a sharp kick and a shove. “I mean is this the worst thing you’ve known me to do?”

The audible sigh crackled across the line and they would have thought the call had been dropped if it weren’t for the faint sound of the mechanic’s shop in the background. “This week?”

The sharp bark of laughter was their brother’s reply and they could just imagine him sitting at his desk, the door closed and rubbing his forehead. “Oh, don’t give me that Lexie.” Jon finished tying the floppy laces and stood up, bouncing to push their residual limb further into its socket, and pressed along the side, nudging it until it felt right. Their sagging pants were hiked up properly, zipped, and buckled before turning around for their binder. “Not when you got your own.”

“I was... young.”

“And what am I?”

“He’s right.”

Pressing their phone to their neck to muffle it, Jon countered with a raspberry to Maeko sitting on the edge of her desk. She smiled prettily and batted her lashes. “Thought you had a study session.”

She hopped off, brushing the edges of her skirt, and picked up her school bag. “I’m going.”

“Hey, wait. I got something for you.” Jon tapped their mouth, and the girl smiled, sauntered over and leaned down, fresh minty breath ghosting across Jon’s mouth.

“Bye Lafayette-san~!” Maeko sang into the phone before walking away, leaving the teen to pout. It was almost criminal to do so, Jon much too adorable for their own good. She had given it thought, laying in bed, but then their phone rang and Jon had said it was their brother and the spell had been broken. She turned, sticking her tongue out, and Jon grinned back.

“Lock the door when you leave.”

Jon held a hand over their phone. “Sure thing, babe. Have fun!”

“-going to.”

They caught the last of whatever their brother was saying. “Huh,” Jon returned elegantly, and he repeated the question of where they were going. “Hiro’s place.” Alex didn’t care for him and expressed it, but Jon like him. He did outstanding work, did their industrial for second-year grad present and while it was a sandy beach to heal, it wasn’t because of Hiro’s work. They’d been thinking about adding to their other ear or maybe an eyebrow piercing like the two their brother had. “Yeah, but he’s clean and friendly and kinda cute.”

“Don’t sleep with your piercer.” Alex replied with a resigned certitude, following the switch to French as easily as his sibling. Most conversations drifted back to their native language, and it was nice. He missed it, having so few people to talk to outside of his little family.

“What, is that some brotherly advice?”

“Yes.” Alex gestured for his coworker to enter when he knocked quietly and waved in the window. The mousy man entered quick, apologizing with a bow and quick apology. He had some paperwork in hand for him to look over and sign.

“I meeeean, I do like them big, tall and stupid.”

“Jon.” Alex looked over the paper, riffling through the pages to make sure the ordering information was correct, and signed it with a flourish.

“Chill bro, Hiro’s cool and all but,” Jon sighed. “Maeko’s so pretty. Dude, you gotta see her.”

“Is she one of your latest flings?” He asked, only after the door closed behind his worker.

“She’s not a fling, I think. That’s up to her.” It was easier to hide the brief hurt on the phone, Jon frowning openly in the empty room.

“Tell me I did not interrupt your booty call.”

Jon snorted. “She’s not a booty call. Who even uses that term anymore? What are you, an old man?” They teased.

“Yes. You make me old. I have grey hairs.” Twenty years their senior, it was only a matter of time. Their father greyed early while their mother kept her dark hair, Jon inheriting the insane amount.

“Blame dad, not me. Besides, if she wants this to be nothing, I’m not opposed to it. She does this really amazing thing with her tong-”

“Oh my god, I do not want to hear this! I’m going to hang up on you.”

It hurt to keep from cackling something awful into the phone’s speaker, knowing their brother would make good on his threat. “Wait, wait, wait! I’m done, promise.”

“Good.” Their brother didn't sound so confident.

“I’m gonna put you on speakerphone, I gotta finish gettin’ dressed.” They found their binder under the bed and struggled with it, momentarily getting stuck before doing a little twist, shimmy and grunt and straightened the hem, tugging it until it lay flat.  “... When are you going to ask Mac out? Huh? Or do I gotta do that for you.”

“Please don’t. Mac’s a really nice gal.”

“Oh, is she? A real dandy gal.”

“Shut up.” Alex leaned back in his chair, turning slightly to look out his window where his upper office overlooked his mechanic’s workshop: there were a variety of hero cars being serviced. Their latest had been a peculiar but not farfetched request and it required parts that didn’t currently exist, but his inherited Quirk made that part easy. He’d spent an hour drawing up the blueprints from his own memory, but it’d be accurate down to the millimeter.

Jon did laugh this time. “Come on broski, she totally has the hots for you. Why else would she put up with you as a boss?”

“Pretty sure it’s illegal to date your coworkers.”

“Ah, whatever, it’s hawt power dynamics.”

“Please, when you can get your dating life in order, then you can give me advice.”

“Ouch, but fair.” True to form, Maeko wasn’t the only one Jon had seen that week. Or the week previously. They had a sort of loose idea of dating and monogamy was not a part of it. Unfortunately, Jon wasn’t the best at relying on this pertinent information to others, and it wouldn’t be the first time they’d been slapped and called a cheater. “Why’d you call?”

“Mom wants you to call her, said you guys haven’t talked since the blackout.”

“Oh, yeah... I mean, we talked like a week after it.” Jon paused, hands stilling around their shirt they were tucking into their pants. A muscle jumped in their cheek when they gritted their teeth. “You didn’t tell her I was hurt?”

“No, Jonny, I didn’t. I told you I wouldn’t.” The brotherly placate to their accusation helped a little.

“Good.” They finished dressing; doing a cursory look over for anything they missed. “Ma doesn’t have to know about every little scrapped elbow and bruised knee.”

“I’m pretty sure multiple stabbings goes above a scraped elbow.”

“So like, what, up there with a black eye?” They deflected with their usual brash humor. “I’m still here, aren’t I? You saw me in person, still got all nine and a half fingers and five toes.”

“Green bean,” he started, ignoring the morbid but accurate count. “You sure this is what you want to d-”

“Nope!” Popping the P to emphasize how little they were in the mood for the rehashed question they’d heard since they were twelve. “We are not having this conversation. It’s bad enough ma gives me shit about it.” Jon locked the door behind them, stepping out into the empty dorm hallway. “I’ll call tomorrow. That good enough?”

“All right, you brat,” Alex muttered fondly. “I’ll let mom know. Go get some metal shoved in your face, weirdo.”

"Thanks buttface, I will. I’ll send you a blurry selfie later.”

Despite redressing in the clothes from yesterday, Jon decided it was less a faux pas and more not wanting to smell like cigarette smoke, sweat and bar grossness. Especially if they were going to get up and personal with another human being. So, Jon took off back to their dorms, rounded up the first clean clothing they put their hand on, grabbed their shower caddy and headed off toward the showers. Half an hour later, they were squeaky clean and dressed.

Martha was the go to prosthetic, helped them blend in with most two legged individuals, quirk aside. They thought about Bijou, but she was generally reserved for special occasions, finding she could be a finicky bitch at the most inopportune times. The last time Jon wore that one, the ankle joint lost an inner screw which jammed up the joint, making it lock and basically made it dragging around a peg leg with no mobility. What a night that was, requiring them to get a piggyback ride home from their teacher. They enjoyed it, him not so much. Probably should have left out the insistent cry of, high ho silver away, every few blocks. They followed it with the usual graphic tee with a dumb saying, and a baggy hoodie out of their collection, this one being tie dyed green and black with white lettering across the front. Sleep When You’re Dead. Perfect. Black harem pants, which were fast becoming a fave due to their ease of putting on with a prosthetic, and green sneakers finished off the casual look.

Pulling their green locs free of the hoodie, they tried to put the entirely of them up, failed twice, cursed, tried a third, snapped the hairband and gave up. Only to come back with one more attempt, managing to get the usual half up do they resorted to. Leaning closer to the mirror on the back of their dorm room, they scrutinized the dark roots and faded tips before frowning. Hair day was an all day thing and if they needed to re-dye and possibly bleach roots, that was a clear the entire weekend job. They still had some green dye wedged in their nail bed from last time. Maybe they’d go with a more brighter, eye searing radioactive green. Either way, it’d have to be another day.

Grabbing their wallet, they slammed their dorm door closed and headed down the hall toward the elevators. While waiting for the slow arrival of it, they made sure to double check they had everything. School ID, money, phone, probably should eat something, ah no matter, they’d grab something down at the train station. The elevator dinged and Jon took a jostling step back to let a stampede of other students out, a couple recognizing them.

“Jonny!” They half raised a hand in a greeting at their name, flashing a grin at the crimson skinned teen. “Hey man, what’d you get for number nine on the Trig questionnaire?” The blank look he received was all too familiar. “You did finish the math homework?” A slow shrug was his reply as Jon slipped into the elevator. “Lafayette?”

“Sorry,” they returned in French, gesturing toward their own ear. “Can’t understand you, I don’t speak numbers.”

“Jon!”

They laughed as the door closed on their classmate’s ridiculous expression, giving him the perfect view of the pipsqueak blowing a raspberry before the doors closed completely. Jon hit the lobby button with a little more force than intended and leaned against the railing at the quick stomach flip flopping drop down. Popping back out on the ground floor, it was a simple walk to the main courtyard, pausing occasionally to chit chat with other students, the social butterfly that they were. Most of it was idle chatter, quick greetings and goodbyes as they headed out with a casual stroll of determination.

It was a nice day but they always ran a little colder from the side effects of their quirk and were thankful for the bulk of their hoodie that helped obscure their build. Three years of UA had definitely help them fill out, but sometimes one didn’t want to be reminded of their amazing ass and hips that were more annoying than wanted. The muscles could stay.

The walls of UA fell behind as Jon entered the real world and took off down the street. It would be a quick walk to the nearby station where they’d grab something from a vending machine and wait for the train. And a serious case of red bean mochi was calling their name.