Chapter Text
It’s been a few weeks since their class slumber party, but Izuku still finds himself constantly analyzing Todoroki’s words and actions: the way he sat so close to Izuku, and how he asked what a crush felt like. Izuku knows that reading too far into things is a dangerous game, but he can’t help himself from hoping that maybe, just maybe, it all meant something. If only he wasn’t so inexperienced with friendship, he laments, maybe he would be able to draw the line between what constitutes platonic interactions versus romantic ones; but he knows Todoroki is just as inexperienced as he is in that department. And if they’re both clueless, then who’s flying the plane?
He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focus on the lesson at hand, but his eyes keep drifting to the clock on the wall. Ten minutes until class is over. Nine minutes. Eight.
If Todoroki hasn’t ever thought much about romance, Izuku knows he can’t rush him. Figuring out that kind of thing takes time. Even if Todoroki ends up realizing he does like boys, Izuku wouldn’t want to rush him into a relationship. If he could even like Izuku like that. So why can’t he stop himself from being so impatient?
He looks back at the clock. Five minutes.
Why can’t he just be satisfied with being Todoroki’s friend? Well, he is happy being Todoroki’s friend... he just wishes for a little more. He wants to hold Todoroki’s hand, to tell him how amazing he is, to support him. He wants to run his hands through Todoroki’s hair, over his scar, to promise him that he’ll be loved no matter what. His thoughts drift to their afternoon at the ice rink, and the way Todoroki had looked so vulnerable, the way Izuku could have leaned down and pressed their lips together. He wants to kiss Todoroki, and be kissed by Todoroki.
Now his face is growing uncomfortably warm. He frantically tries to think about other things: algebra, English vocabulary, anything other than this!
He startles when the bell rings. Around him, his classmates begin packing up their books. Izuku sighs. Why does his life have to be so complicated?
Dejectedly, he gathers up his notebooks and pencils and places them in his backpack. At least it’s the weekend now, and he can hang out with his friends without worrying about how late they’re staying up. Maybe he can even think through this problem a little bit more, come to some kind of conclusion about his feelings and how to master them.
“Hey! Deku!” Ochako bounces up to his desk with her usual enthusiasm. “Wanna get our homework done real fast so we don’t have to worry about it on Sunday?”
Normally, Ochako and Izuku can procrastinate with the best of them, but he has to admit that this will be less stressful. He shrugs. “Sure, where?”
“My room! Tsu is gonna study with us, too.”
“Okay,” Izuku says, slinging his bag over his shoulder and returning her blinding smile. “Sounds good.”
“Soooo,” Ochako begins, laying on her stomach on the pink comforter, her legs kicking back and forth through the air, “how’s it going with Todoroki?”
Izuku groans, putting down his pencil to run his hands through his unruly curls. He should have known that Ochako had an ulterior motive for calling an impromptu study date—she usually isn’t the type to do weekend homework on a Friday.
Tsuyu, sitting cross legged next to Ochako on the bed, gives an amused ribbit at Izuku’s sudden blush.
“I don’t know,” Izuku sighs. “Same as ever, I guess.”
“Oh, come on,” Ochako teases, “you two fell asleep on each other after ice skating last weekend! That was seriously cute.”
“So did you two,” he reminds them.
They both blush as they smile at each other shyly, but, to Izuku’s surprise, Ochako holds her hand out for Tsuyu to take.
“That’s, uh, what we actually wanted to talk to you about,” Ochako says. Her pink cheeks lift with her smile. “Tsu and I... we’re, um...”
“Dating, kero,” Tsuyu finishes.
Ochako beams at her.
Izuku sits up straight, looking between them as a smile blooms across his face. “What?! Really?! That’s amazing!” He knew something was brewing between them, but, honestly, with his own troubles in love, he didn’t think about it too much. He figured that it was only a matter of time, though. “When did this happen?”
“Just yesterday,” says Ochako. “We finally talked about it, and, well, we were on the same page!”
Tsuyu’s large hand dwarfs Ochako’s, and Izuku suddenly feels that familiar lump in his throat.
“I’m so happy for you,” he chokes out as his eyes well up with tears.
Immediately, Ochako and Tsuyu are off the bed and kneeling by his side, Ochako wide eyed and starting to tear up, herself. She rubs comforting circles on his back, and Tsuyu rests her hand on his shoulder.
“Oh, Deku,” Ochako croons. “Don’t cry, it’s alright!”
He hastily wipes his eyes with his sleeves, letting out a choked laugh. “Sorry, I’m just... really happy for you!”
“Don’t apologize for crying, kero. It’s a healthy emotional response.”
Ochako nods as she wipes away her own tears. “Absolutely,” she hiccups.
They embrace each other. And then, through their tears and hugs, all three of them start to laugh, until they aren’t sure whether the laughter is causing the tears, or the tears causing the laughter. When it eventually turns to breathless giggles and finally subsides, they remain with their arms around each other, content in their friendship and the knowledge that sometimes, things change for the better.
“Anyway,” Ochako says after a moment of quiet, “now, all that’s left is for you and Todoroki to get together!”
Izuku only blushes and gives her a light shove.
Their homework for the weekend is fairly light, and once they get back to it, it doesn’t take them long to finish. Now that their time is free, the three of them happily head back downstairs to the common area to see what everyone else is up to, and maybe to find something to do.
As they exit the stairwell and survey the scene, Izuku is almost surprised at the lack of chaos; but then again, it’s still early. There are only a few people here, with most still studying, working out, or relaxing in their rooms. It looks like Ashido and Hagakure are setting up a video game on the tv—and, by the pouts on Sero and Kaminari’s faces, Izuku thinks they must have fought over who got to use it first. Satou and Kouda have staked their claim on the kitchen area, and whatever they’re baking already smells delicious—Ochako hums appreciatively, looking like she’s about to start drooling. The faint hum of music from upstairs tells them that Jirou is practicing her guitar, and when the front door opens, Kirishima walks in, donning a sweatband and looking like he’s just finished a high-intensity run. As he passes the couch, calling hello to everyone as he goes, Ashido waves her hand in front of her face and groans loudly.
Hagakure, her voice nasally—like she’s pinching her nose—says, “Holy shit, you stink! Go take a shower!”
Ashido pretends to retch as Kirishima sticks his tongue out at them. “Sorry you can’t handle my manly funk,” he says. “Would it make you feel better if I gave you a hug?” He steps toward them menacingly, and they both shriek, Hagakure catapulting herself behind Ashido to escape the line of fire.
“If you touch me, you get acid-blasted!” Ashido yelps. “And my acid burns through rock!”
Kirishima backs off, laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m about to go shower. But I’ll be back for movie night! 8:00 sharp, everybody!”
Oh yeah! Kirishima did mention something at lunch about planning a movie night this weekend, didn’t he?
“What are we watching, kero?” Tsuyu asks, cocking her head with her index finger to her cheek.
Kirishima shrugs. “Dunno yet, if someone wants to pick one out, I’m down for whatever!”
Kaminari’s hand shoots into the air. “Ooh, pick me! Pick me!”
“All yours, dude!” Kirishima grins.
“Oh, no!” Ashido protests, pointing accusingly at Kaminari. “You’re gonna let me help, ‘cuz I don’t trust you to pick out anything good after last time!”
He scoffs. “You don’t watch ‘Sharknado’ because it’s good, you watch it for the experience!”
“Yeah, well, we’re watching something that isn’t terrible tonight.”
Their squabbling continues as Kirishima, shaking his head with a smile, disappears up the stairs to go de-stink-ify himself. As the door to the stairwell closes behind him, Todoroki emerges, passing him on his way down.
Izuku can’t help the little leap his heart gives at the sight of him, looking much more relaxed in his sweatpants and t-shirt than he ever looks in his uniform, with his hands in his pockets and his usual neutral expression.
Todoroki nods to them as he approaches.
“Hey Todoroki!” Ochako waves.
Tsuyu ribbits, and Izuku smiles.
“Hey,” he replies, then, motioning toward the others, he asks, “What’s going on?”
“They’re trying to decide on a movie to watch tonight,” Sero says, joining their little circle as Hagakure attempts to diffuse the bickering behind them.
“Ah,” he says.
“You’ll watch with us, right?” Ochako asks Todoroki, giving Izuku a meaningful glance out of the corner of her eye. Izuku blushes, suddenly very interested in the texture of the carpet they’re standing on.
“Sure.” Todoroki shrugs.
At his confirmation, both relief and anxiety take hold of Izuku’s thoughts. On one hand, he might end up sitting next to Todoroki! But on the other... he might end up sitting next to Todoroki. It’s a double-edged sword: his mind supplies him with multiple possible outcomes, the best of which involves the two of them snuggled up together on the couch, the worst of which involves Todoroki thinking Izuku is too close and never wanting to see him again.
Unlikely, he reminds himself, but possible.
“Hey, you guys cool with watching ‘Quirktastic Four’ tonight?” Kaminari pops up from behind the couch, having apparently reached an acceptable compromise with Ashido.
Izuku, pushing his worries to the back of his mind, nods in affirmation—it’s one of his favorite movies. He’s seen it a thousand times, so he pretty much has the dialogue memorized, but he could always watch it again.
Ochako and Tsuyu nod too.
Hagakure voices her approval, and Sero also agrees, showing his enthusiasm with a punch to the air.
They all look to Todoroki.
“Sure,” he says, expression neutral as ever. “I’ve never seen those movies.”
Sero gives an affronted gasp, wheeling on Todoroki. “You’ve never seen any of them?”
Todoroki shrugs again, averting his eyes. “I’m not much of a movie person, I guess.”
Izuku feels a surge of protectiveness, knowing that Todoroki was never given the freedom of leisure activities that other kids take for granted. If anyone presses further, he’ll need to change the topic somehow. He could lie, and say he hasn’t seen them either—but he thinks it would be hard to believe that a hero fanboy like himself wouldn’t have seen all the most popular superhero movies. Maybe he could get Kaminari and Sero talking about the upcoming movie in the series—
Slinging his arm around Todoroki’s shoulder, Sero gives a toothy grin, and Izuku can’t help but notice the way Todoroki stiffens at the casual touch. “My dude,” he says. “I can’t believe we get the privilege of introducing you to the best movies ever!”
Todoroki relaxes ever so slightly and gives Sero his own small smile in return. “Looking forward to it.”
A little before 8:00, the lounge begins to fill up. Ashido and Hagakure set up an elaborate blanket nest on the ground, and Sero and Kaminari join them among the pillows. Bakugou, who earlier had announced that he had no interest in being there for movie night, nonetheless loudly claims one of the loveseats for himself—and Kirishima, fearless as ever, happily sits next to him. Yaoyorozu and Jirou arrive next, snuggling up together on one side of the large couch in the middle of the room. When Izuku, Todoroki, Ochako, and Tsuyu show up, the girls arrange themselves next to Yaoyorozu and Jirou, pulling one of the blankets over their laps and leaning in close to one another. That leaves the other loveseat open, and Izuku and Todoroki the only ones to fill it. Izuku gulps, not missing the sly look Ochako sends his way. Todoroki doesn’t seem to give it a second thought, though, as he climbs onto the loveseat and tucks his legs underneath him. There’s nothing for Izuku to do but follow suit, arranging himself carefully on Todoroki’s left, careful to keep a little distance. Next, Tokoyami and Shouji arrive, moving the coffee table out of the way to sprawl out beneath Izuku and Todoroki’s couch. Even Dark Shadow comes out to enjoy the movie with them, hovering next to Tokoyami and kept from rampaging by the glow of the tv and the lights from the kitchen. It tosses a handful of popcorn into its spectral beak, and Izuku wonders, briefly, whether it actually digests food, or if the popcorn will just disappear.
Once everyone is settled and bowls of popcorn have been placed strategically around the room for everyone’s convenience, Kirishima pulls up the movie and turns off the lights, bringing everyone’s chatter to a low murmur as the title screen flashes. Izuku takes a deep breath, still desperately trying to be cool about the fact that he’s sitting so close to Todoroki, and focuses his attention on the opening scene. The villain begins his speech.
He knows it by heart, the words ingrained somewhere in the back of his mind from the many times he’s watched this movie over the past few years. It’s his comfort movie, the one he always watched in middle school after a particularly bad day: when Kacchan was especially mean, or his classmates teased him about his quirklessness. It never failed to cheer him up.
“You know this movie well, don’t you?”
Izuku startles at Todoroki’s whisper by his ear, and he flushes bright red as he lets out a quiet squeak. Crap, he had been doing the monologue out loud, hadn’t he?
“A-ah,” he flounders, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, it’s, uh, actually one of my favorites!”
Todoroki nods and turns back to the screen, but Izuku is caught, frozen: the soft smile on Todoroki’s face, a smile that was directly caused by Izuku’s inability to keep himself from reciting the dialogue of his favorite movie, causes the butterflies in his stomach to take flight. In the moment, Izuku forgets the movie entirely, Todoroki’s smile the only thing he’s capable of thinking about, and he stares: at the way just the edge of Todoroki’s lip quirks upward, gently amused; at the way it lifts his cheek oh so slightly. Izuku imagines that, if Todoroki were to smile wider, he might just have a dimple there; at the way the mirth reaches his eyes, and, even though he’s in profile, Izuku can see that softness there that Todoroki so often hides. He stares, and stares, and stares.
He stares, unmoving, until Todoroki catches him out of the corner of his eye, and Izuku averts his gaze back to the tv so quickly that he might as well have been using One for All to do it, his heart thumping almost painfully in his chest.
Izuku tries to return his focus to the movie, but his thoughts are far away, dissecting the meaning of that soft smile. He wishes, again, that he had more experience with friendship; because he doesn’t know if that’s the kind of smile you give a friend. And—now that he thinks about it—that’s not the first time Todoroki has smiled at him like that. But, of course, it probably doesn’t mean anything. Come to think of it, Izuku probably has different smiles for different people, right? He tries to think. There are smiles that come from laughter, when Ochako tells a joke, or Tsuyu says something funny so matter-of-factly. There are smiles that come from gratitude, when Iida helps him with his homework, or Kirishima offers him a hand after he’s fallen in training. There are even smiles he gives Kacchan, out of admiration, and the simple fact that he’s grown so much as a person since they entered U.A. He has smiles for All Might, smiles for his mom, smiles for Eri and Kota. There are smiles he gives all his friends—smiles of platonic love, of caring so deeply for someone that you would do anything for them; and the brave, reassuring smiles of the battlefield, when you need to tell each other that it will be okay. But when he smiles at Todoroki... well, there are lots of smiles he gives Todoroki: nervous smiles, belying anxious butterflies and bright blushes, or the wide, giddy smiles he gets when he says or does something that makes Todoroki laugh. There are also those smiles that Izuku tries to hide. The ones that he is afraid to let Todoroki see, for fear that he’ll know exactly what Izuku is thinking. The ones that soften his eyes and scrunch up his nose, the ones that always come when Todoroki does something so... so Todoroki that Izuku just can’t keep his feelings inside. The ones when his heart feels like it might burst.
He wishes he knew if Todoroki feels like he has different smiles, too.
Just as Izuku is beginning to think himself into a frenzy, probably close to muttering, Todoroki’s leg brushes against his, and his train of thought comes to a devastating, screeching halt. It’s just the gentlest of nudges, but the sudden contact roots Izuku to the spot, causes him to stiffen like a board. Was he already muttering? Was this Todoroki’s way of reminding him that they’re watching a movie, and he needs to be quiet? No; when he glances at Todoroki out of the corner of his eye, he sees that his attention is entirely focused on the movie, the explosions reflecting in his eyes. It was accidental. Still, neither of them move. Izuku doesn’t even breathe.
Finally, once he’s calmed his racing heart, Izuku gulps, and, with considerable effort, relaxes his body and looks back to the screen.
As the movie plays on, Izuku continues to sneak sidelong glances at Todoroki, hoping to catch his reactions to all the best scenes. By the middle of the movie, the rising action, Todoroki seems riveted. His mismatched eyes are practically glued to the screen as the heroes confront their enemies. Even as a few of their friends criticize the fighting techniques (while others shush them harshly), Todoroki remains rapt. His eyes are intense when he’s focusing, Izuku thinks. He’s seen his eyes in battle, and, he notes with a quiet snort, this is that same look. Attention, focus, analysis.
At the sound of Izuku’s almost-laugh, Todoroki turns, eyebrow raised, a question in his eyes.
Izuku covers his mouth with his hand and shakes his head, trying to convey that he’ll explain later, and, thankfully, Todoroki doesn’t press him.
Their legs are still touching.
By the climax of the movie, their shoulders are touching, too. The loveseat isn’t very big, after all, and maintaining distance takes more work than it does to lean into each other as the cushions slope inward under their weight. Ochako, with her arm around Tsuyu, keeps shooting him knowing looks, but he almost doesn’t have it in him to care. Because—if nothing else—Todoroki, who normally stiffens at the most casual touch, is comfortable enough to all but lean against Izuku’s side. Izuku is melting—and not just because he’s against Todoroki’s left side.
This is what it could be like, Izuku’s mind supplies, all the time.
Unfortunately, the movie eventually has to come to an end. As the credits roll, Kirishima turns the lights back on, and Todoroki sits up to stretch, raising his arms up to the ceiling with a yawn, and Izuku feels the loss of contact like a gust of cold wind. Before long, everyone begins to stretch and yawn and talk about the movie, but Izuku really only cares about one person’s opinion right now. “So, did you like it, Todoroki?”
He nods. “I did. It was... exciting.”
Izuku smiles wide. Todoroki’s eyes are bright, and Izuku knows how he feels. A good action movie always amps him up, too.
“We’re totally gonna show you the rest of the movies, Todoroki!” Sero calls from the floor. “There’s a lot of good ones!”
Izuku nods, already formulating a plan for what order they should be watched in, and how long it will take.
“Sounds good,” Todoroki says, and there’s that soft smile again.
But all Izuku hears is that there will be plenty more opportunities for him to sit next to Todoroki, to get as close as they did tonight. More opportunities to revel in how far their relationship has come, even if they are just friends. More opportunities to hope that maybe—just maybe—someday, they can be something more.
For now, though, Izuku is happy to be next to him, talking with his friends about his favorite movie, warm with feelings of love and the joy of sharing your favorite things.