Work Text:
1
The first time, it comes as a surprise.
Midoriya's sitting in his desk and he's laughing, his head thrown back as he laughs at something Shouto had said—which really wasn't intended to be that funny, but he won't complain.
But then, Shouto has an intense urge to lean down over Midoriya's desk, to cup his hand under Midoriya's jaw and to swallow his laughter with his own mouth.
He freezes instantly, stares at how Midoriya still laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners and teeth joyfully barred. He swallows thickly, entwines his fingers before him and squeezes them together.
Once Midoriya calms, he looks up at Shouto, perplexed. His eyebrows furrow, forming a little crease in the skin between them. "Is something the matter, Todoroki-kun?" he asks, tilting his head curiously to the side. His unruly curls flop at the movement.
You're beautiful, Shouto thinks with striking clarity. It's not like he hadn't known that his feelings regarding Midoriya surpassed friendship, but he'd never been confronted with such a pure want before. He clears his throat as Midoriya looks at him, expectant and worried.
"No, nothing. Sorry."
Midoriya looks concerned for a moment longer before Uraraka comes up behind him and grabs his shoulder, rocking him excitedly back and forth in his chair. Shouto doesn't register what she's saying to Midoriya; he can only focus on not bursting into flames.
2
After the first instance—Shouto would probably call it an awakening of some sort—his urge to kiss Midoriya never really goes away.
But now in particular, it's a bit troublesome. They're at dinner in the common area, surrounded by friends. Midoriya's talking excitedly to about something Mt. Lady had done earlier downtown with Iida and Uraraka; he's probably talking to Shouto, too, but Shouto's having a hard time paying attention.
He wants to tangle his fingers in the hair behind Midoriya's ears, to catch his lips between his own and kiss him until they're out of breath. And that's highly inappropriate, considering they're surrounded by people on all sides and there's probably food in Midoriya's mouth and dammit, Shouto really should not want to do this right now. Why does he want to do this right now?
Shouto presses his palms flat to the table and splays his fingers, looking for a moment at the spaces between them before he impulsively leans his weight on the table and stands from his seat.
Midoriya, Uraraka, and Iida all stare at him like he's done something bizarre, which, okay, maybe he has. He realizes now that he's standing that he really can't lean over and kiss Midoriya right at this moment, regardless of how impulsive he'd felt a just a second ago, so he acts quickly to save himself, extending his hand and wiping his thumb against the side of Midoriya's mouth.
"You had something on your face," he mutters the lie as he sits back down, Midoriya turning red at the sudden attention and Iida and Uraraka bemusedly looking at each other because Midoriya definitely didn't have anything on his face.
Shouto scarfs down the rest of his dinner so he can leave as soon as possible.
3
Shouto falls asleep easily during movies, so he doesn't understand why Midoriya keeps insisting he joins in when some classmates hold a movie night in the common room. Even so, he doesn't decline—couldn't decline Midoriya, probably, considering how bad he has it. (He has it so bad.)
He gets about half an hour into whatever movie the majority had voted on before he begins to nod off, waking himself up every few seconds only to doze again right after. Midoriya chuckles at him, but he barely registers it, just lets his head fall onto Midoriya's shoulder and succumbs to sleep.
When Shouto wakes it's to a gentle nudging on his shoulder from Midoriya.
"Hey," Midoriya says softly, and Shouto blinks a few times. It's mostly dark, the only light cast from the idle television. "Everyone else already went back to their dorms, so I thought I should..."
"Mm," Shouto hums, pulling his head off of Midoriya's shoulder, where it had practically been cemented.
And maybe Shouto's delirious—but he's not, not really—because he wants to lean back over and press his lips lazily to Midoriya's, to trail his mouth down Midoriya's neck and to his collarbone, to fall asleep on this couch right here because they're both too breathless to go to their rooms.
But before Shouto can do anything, Midoriya's standing from the couch, blanket wrapped around him like a cape. He offers Shouto a hand to help him stand, which Shouto takes after only a moment's hesitation. With Midoriya's hand in his own, Shouto considers pulling Midoriya down on top of him, but decides to refrain.
Midoriya switches the television off before they trudge together to the elevator. The lights in the elevator never turn off, so as they step inside of it, they both blink to adjust to the bright light. Midoriya's hair sticks up every which way, and Shouto's sure he probably looks similar. Midoriya grins at him as the elevator moves and then it dings, signifying they've reached the second floor. Shouto wants to kiss every one of his freckles.
After Midoriya steps out of the elevator and the door closes again, Shouto slumps against the wall and buries his face in his hands, letting out a muffled groan.
4
Present Mic is teaching English in the front of the classroom, but Shouto is practically safe from any scrutiny for daydreaming in the far back. He lets his gaze wander over to Midoriya, as it usually does.
Fleetingly, Shouto wonders if Midoriya has ever kissed anyone before. Considering what Midoriya had told Shouto about his growing up, Shouto can infer that if he has, he hasn't kissed many people.
Shouto hasn't kissed anyone. He wonders—if he ever did get around to kissing Midoriya, would it be awful? On his part, not Midoriya's. Would Midoriya back away, completely unsatisfied? The thought makes Shouto wince.
Even so, Shouto doesn't feel the urge to practice with anyone else. Midoriya holds his sole attention in that matter, and he's sure that Midoriya doesn't have too much experience under his belt, if any. And Shouto could always follow his lead.
Up at his desk, Midoriya chews on the base of his pen, his lips slightly parted and his other hand tapping away at the top of his desk.
If Shouto had no dignity and more confidence, he'd march up to Midoriya's desk right now and grab his hand to drag him out of the room. But he has some dignity and definitely not enough confidence, so he stays planted in his desk, gnawing his bottom lip between his teeth.
5
It's unfair, Shouto thinks, that Midoriya can look so good while doing such a mundane thing as studying, but he does. He does and it's unfair.
He has one hand raked up in his hair as he leans his elbow on the table and looks down at his homework, bouncing the pencil eraser against the table with his other hand. Then, he takes his hand out of his hair to pull at his bottom lip, and his eyes flicker up to Shouto.
"Hey, did you get—?" Midoriya stops when he looks at Shouto's homework, which he hasn't yet started.
It's just—he's so enthralled in Midoriya, in his hands and his hair and his lips and his eyes, let alone just his presence, so it would be a miracle if Shouto were able to concentrate on his homework. But Shouto's never really believed in miracles.
"Are you okay?" Midoriya inquires, setting down his pencil. It clicks against the tabletop.
Shouto blinks. Realistically, he could kiss Midoriya right now. They're in Shouto's room, and it's just the two of them... But still, Shouto shakes his head. "Yeah, sorry. I'm fine."
+1
Todoroki ducks his head and looks down at his homework after he speaks, but Izuku keeps his eyes trained on him, on the split in his hair color and at how his hair hangs in front of his face as he looks down.
Izuku's about ninety percent sure that Todoroki wants to kiss him, and he's one-hundred percent sure that he wants to kiss Todoroki (and has wanted to for too long). He's pretty sure—like, a solid seventy-five percent sure—that they're both at least generally aware that their feelings for each other are mutual.
His hands grow restless, and he begins to drum his fingers on the tabletop.
"Are you sure...?" Izuku prods, and Todoroki raises his head to meet Izuku's gaze.
"Yeah," Todoroki repeats, and he swallows harshly. Fleetingly, Izuku has an urge to run his tongue down the column of Todoroki's neck, but he flushes at the thought. He's getting ahead of himself, here.
And, well, Izuku's always been one to take calculated risks. (Ninety percent chance is higher than most of the risks Izuku's taken in the past.)
So, he reaches over the table, his mouth pulling into a crooked, nervous line as he cups Shouto's face in his palms and leans, praying Shouto will meet him halfway. And he does.
Izuku presses his lips to Todoroki's, and he holds still for just a minute—giving himself a moment to register that this is happening, finally—before he parts his lips and Shouto follows suit. Todoroki's hands find their way to Izuku's torso, and they rest there, warm and heavy against Izuku's sides.
Todoroki's mouth is soft and pliant and warm and wet, and Izuku doesn't blame himself for wanting to do this for so long. The sounds of their mouths parting and reconnecting reverberate in Izuku's ears, making him dizzy.
Todoroki lets out a sigh into Izuku's mouth, and Izuku's lips curl into a smile. He pulls away for a moment to look at Todoroki's face—lips parted and blush high on his cheeks—before he grins even wider.
"I've wanted to"—Todoroki pauses, presses a kiss to the corner of Izuku's mouth—"do this"—another kiss, to the other side of his mouth—"for awhile, now." He punctuates with a kiss to Izuku's lips.
Izuku's chest thrums with feeling. "Me, too."