The Bet (Shota) 1

"Okay, what is the exact term for a group of kittens?"

"Kindle," his rival answered promptly.

This had been going on for several minutes now since the start of their bet. Aizawa Shota was a cat lover at heart, and the counselor at U.A had, well... cat parts. That didn't add up to knowledge, he reasoned, so when Mic proposed this outrageous bet he had agreed to it.

He was regretting it terribly now.

"Your turn," he said sourly.

"Sure thing, Eraserhead," she purred in a saccharine sweet tone. "Here's one for you: what did the cheshire cat first say to Alice?"

Seeing the stoic man do a double take was one of the highlights of her week. "What?"

"It's still cat trivia."

He looked imploringly over at the other teachers for help, but found none.

"Oh, no, I'll allow it," Kayama smiled.

"Still a cat, yo."

"I think that's fair, too."

Aizawa looked terribly disappointed in them. "Fine, then. You win, since I haven't the faintest idea."

Elly laughed softly. "Okay, you're all witnesses. Aizawa, you have to stop by my house this evening for a complete makeover... and then in the morning, so that I can fix you up for school."

He sank into his capture weapon, his eyes baleful. "What did the cat say?"

"Alice asked him where to go, and he told her, 'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to'."

Present Mic cocked his head from where he stood near the window. "Oh, I'd've gotten that wrong even if I guessed."

"Yep. It's not one of the more famous quotes." She smiled at the homeroom teacher and reached out to tousle his messy hair. "Don't forget to shave thoroughly before coming over."

His look could have peeled paint off a wall. Elly walked out to head back to her office, and Aizawa stood up menacingly. "Mic."

"Y'wha?" He blinked at him, his grin faltering as he saw the other man's eyes burn red.

"This is all your fault."

Aizawa didn't exactly punish his friend, just scared him enough to hold his concept of him in place. He didn't want others to know how his heart beat rapidly at the idea of spending time alone with Cheshire, of being in her home. He was forced to meditate for a quarter of an hour before he could calm his nerves enough to walk over, and even then his lips felt dry and his throat was closing up.

He wondered if an allergy to certain emotions was possible.

"I'm here." Aizawa knocked politely on her door. He grimaced when she impulsively hugged him, though when her face was out of sight his gray eyes softened noticeably.

"Come on in, Aizawa."

He sighed and walked into her home, shedding his plain black loafers by the door. As he looked around he could see her decorating was highly influenced by Alice in Wonderland, creating a fantasy world in the reality of her living space with mushroom pillows, fuzzy green area rugs that resembled grass and more.

"Nice place," he muttered as he flopped onto her couch.

"Ha!" She flicked her tail at him as she was rummaging about in her cabinets for two cups. "C'mon, you know you hate it. It's impractical."

Aizawa scoffed. "I do not see anything 'impractical' here, Ches." He pointed. "You go barefoot often, hence the rugs. The book shelves have psychology books as well as your favorite story, and you use this table to work as well as eat off of. Obviously, you spend time in your home so you have decorated in a manner that is comfortable for you."

She sat beside him and offered him a cup of tea, which he gratefully accepted. "That's true," she purred as she sipped. "I thought my place would be too garish for you, though."

Aizawa coughed a short, dry laugh. "I said it was designed well for you. I didn't say it wasn't hideous."

"There he is," Elly snickered. "Well. At least you're as comfortable as you're gonna be. Let's get started." She crooked a finger at him. "Bathroom's in the hall."

He followed her warily. "What exactly did you have in mind, Ches?"

"Oh, you know..." She pulled a large amount of supplies around on the countertop, choosing what she wanted first. "Hair, face, nails. The works."

Aizawa dragged a hand down his face, staring morosely at the padded inflatable chair next to the tub. He stared at it for a few seconds, then glanced back at her. She nodded, so he sighed and sat.

The air wheezed out softly and he shook his head. "I feel ridiculous," he grumbled.

"Oh, don't be like that." Elly gently pulled his wealth of black hair back to hang over the tub. She was startled at how alive it felt, rustling under her fingertips, and decided against one of the conditioners. No, the all in one shampoo would do.

Aizawa watched her tail switching lazily back and forth as she ran warm water on his hair and gently worked her hands through into a good lather. Her fingers were deft and she massaged his scalp thoroughly, causing him to relax though the situation was still awkward for him. He was actually starting to drift off to sleep when he felt a warm softness pressing into his arm. It felt good, and for some reason that he couldn't fathom his ears started to burn as one of her purple side locks brushed his cheek.

"There," she said with satisfaction. "You're rinsed..."

It wasn't until she moved back that he saw it had been her breast gently brushing against him. His ears burned hotter, and he swore inwardly at himself. Was he that much of a pervert that her innocent touch aroused him?

"Aha. Okay, you can towel off. I'll get some of the stuff for the facial while you're drying." Elly stood, her knees popping slightly. "Oof."

"You should have knelt on a towel," he said as he rubbed the one he held vigorously over his head.

"Yeah, well, I thought the rug would be fine. Not like I do this a lot." She laid a hand on his arm. "If you're done, we can go sit on the couch again. I've plugged the hair dryer in and put everything I need on the table."

Aizawa flung the towel over the shower curtain to dry and then combed his fingers through his damp hair. "I usually just let it dry like this."

Her fangs showed as she smiled this time. "It shows. Not that it looks bad - it doesn't, you know. Just messy."

She knelt beside him, very close, on the couch while she ran her hands through his hair and dried it. After a few minutes she brought a comb up to get some light snarls out of one side. The heat from the dryer was nice, and he closed his eyes once more. He startled awake when he felt a light touch on his thigh and opened his eyes to find the counselor inches away, a brush in her hand and her expression dreamy.

"Oh? I guess that felt good, because you dozed off there for a bit." She removed her hand and gestured for him to turn around on the couch. He did without thinking, leaning back comfortably as she sat. "Um. Aizawa," she stammered nervously, "You're kind of, um."

"Am I too heavy?" He turned his head, frowning.

"No, it's just ... well. If you want to lay your head in my lap, be my guest." She ran the brush through his shiny, clean hair.

He nodded. "You're the one that wanted to do this," he reminded her. "How else am I supposed to relax while you do all this stupid crap?"

"Shit, your hair is gorgeous," Elly murmured under her breath. Aizawa's lips twitched with just the hint of a smile. He really didn't want this to end. At first it was a punishment, a consequence of losing a battle - though it had been a silly one, he reflected -- but now he was dedicated. He would sit through every little thing she wanted to subject him to - with the usual grouchy manner, of course. He couldn't let her know how his skin tingled every time she touched him, or how he was forced to count backwards from one hundred to halt the stiffening of his traitorous body.

Several times.

He finally had to sit up, faking a gruff impatience he didn't feel. Otherwise his soft track pants were going to give away his inevitable erection.

"All right," she pouted. "Your hair's done, anyway."

He blinked. "Did you tie it back?"

"Uh huh. Can't let it get in your face while we do the rest." She held up a tub of cream. "You look younger clean-shaven," she remarked as she opened the container.

"I don't want to look younger."

Elly shrugged. "I'm just saying that you do. You want to sit up for this?"

He peered at the glop on her hand suspiciously, his brow wrinkling. "What is it?"

"A face mask. I put it on, then you sit back and relax for a few minutes before wiping it off. I might do your nails while we wait, since you're so fussy."

His grunt of disgust was loud. "I am not 'fussy'," he told her firmly. "That sounds like how you describe an infant. I think this is all a waste of time, that's all. I'm not going to look different."

"We'll see." She reached out and took his chin in one hand. Whatever Aizawa had been about to say shriveled in his throat, all speech failing as she touched him. Her dark, purple eyes were fixed on his as she rubbed the cream on his skin. He was forced to look away before she did, huffing lightly with annoyance under his breath. The concoction she was applying to his dry skin was cool and soothing, though he didn't admit this. And once more, her hands were amazing, smoothing the tension from him as he sat, slumped half over. She sighed, then traced the scar under his eye with a brush of her fingertips before backing away.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she pressed a single fingerpad on them, stifling him immediately. His gray eyes went wide, and he swallowed hard.

"Unless you have to go to the bathroom, hush." He choked inside, a million insults and dry, sardonic quips coming to mind to fend of the soft purr of her voice. But then she smiled and took his hand in hers. He wanted, no, needed, to gasp for air at the way his poor heart hammered crazily in his chest when she did that. A trickle of sweat tickled down his neck as he struggled to calm down.

Her hands were small and soft in his own rough, calloused ones. She had a small basin of water nearby and used it to scrub his nails carefully. Of course they were already clean, since Aizawa maintained a personal cleanliness routine of the highest standards. He did this for his health, however, and not to look a certain way. She dried them on a soft cloth and then got up to dump the bowl.

He lay there thinking that this was not a bad way to lose a bet. He also wondered what she had next in store for him.

"Had to get some warm water," she explained when she came back. Steam rose from the bowl in lazy little curls as she dipped a washcloth in it. "Now stay still so I can wipe this off."

It didn't take long, and Aizawa felt a pang of regret as she wiped the last bit of the cream off and nodded to herself. "There," she said quietly, "that's - that's better. Your skin is ..."

"Ches?"

"Yes, s - sorry, I was just..."

He recognized the look in her eyes as she trailed off yet again, her hand hovering over his cheek and her face flushed. Her ears were askew and lips slightly parted. It took only the briefest of tilts to his head before his mouth was pressed to her own.

Elly hummed in pleasurable shock, her eyes meeting his as if questioning his intent. He gazed back calmly and carefully cupped the back of her head in one hand. Aizawa slowly and quite deliberately deepened the kiss, mouthing her lips before slipping his tongue between them. He waited until her eyes closed to let his eyelids drop heavily, surrendering himself to the feel, touch and taste of the woman beside him.

When the kiss broke they sat panting, catching their breath and almost absently scooting closer. He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other still about her neck as he stroked her hair.

"I'm almost upset I made you shave now," she whispered. "I always wanted to feel your stubble on me."

Aizawa grinned, rubbing his smooth cheek on hers. "You only need to wait until morning."

"Grows that fast, huh?"

"Oh, yes." His hand on her waist squeezed just a little. "I could stay to, ah, expedite the process if you like."

She grinned back, her cheeks blushing a pretty red color. "Sounds pretty logical to me."