Chapter Text
Shouto drifted, nuzzled into a nest of blankets and pillows.
It was a soft kind of sleep, drifting and dipping – at one point he felt Izuku slip out of bed, and then Shouto fell back into sleep, barely rousing when Izuku came back into bed, strong arms wrapping back around him. That was the first thing Shouto had noticed about Izuku – the power of not only his body but his beaming smile, the glittering mind behind his friendly eyes. He was warm wrapped around Shouto.
Then – minutes, hours, days, months, years – later, Izuku got up again, shuffling out of the bedroom, a murmuring following him. Shouto sighed, surfacing up from the dream, and his eyes fluttered open. The curtains were drawn tight over the windows, but Shouto could still see that tell-tale white snow glow peeking through the crack. The bed was cold without Izuku in it.
Shouto sat up and slipped out, bare feet hesitantly touching the cool hardwood floor. He looked at the clothes strewn across the floor, delicately walking around them, and bent down to grab a sweater off the floor. It hung off of him, unmeant for lean frames, but it was warm as Shouto stepped out of the bedroom.
Izuku’s apartment was dominated by its kitchen, seemingly pushing everything else to the margins so more of it could be fit in. The man himself stood in front of his island in a pair of sweatpants, dripping batter on to a waffle iron with that burning concentration, each movement practiced and precise. The smell of brewing coffee filled the air.
“Good morning,” Shouto murmured. Izuku looked up with a beaming smile.
“Good morning!” Izuku said. “I know I said I would show you how to make waffles, but these were yeasted and had to sit for two hours and you looked so peaceful so I didn’t want to wake you up—”
Shouto came up to Izuku’s side, leaned against him, rested his forehead against his shoulder and letting his eyes slide shut.
“It’s okay,” Shouto assured. “You’ll have time to later.”