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For the umpteenth time in his life, Izuku regrets not inheriting his father’s quirk. These regrets are few and far between since he inherited One For All, but on cold days like today, Izuku would give anything for a fire quirk.
Sure, fire-breathing in the common room also sounds like a recipe for disaster—but at least then Izuku would be warm.
Uraraka seems to be having similar regrets, as she draws her blanket tighter around herself and glares balefully at Todoroki.
“You’re so lucky, Todoroki,” she sighs. “Deku and I are freezing, and meanwhile your quirk keeps you warm enough to wear cute t-shirts in December!”
Todoroki absently plucks at the hem of his pink shirt. “Not really. I’m actually pretty cold right now.”
Izuku raises an eyebrow. Todoroki doesn’t look cold—the rest of them have been shivering all night, but Todoroki hasn’t moved a muscle.
“But you don’t even have goose bumps,” Izuku says. He places his arm next to Todoroki’s for comparison. “See? I’m covered in them.”
Todoroki’s cheeks turn pink, and Izuku realizes then how pale Todoroki has been all night. Maybe he really is cold, if just Izuku’s body heat is enough to affect him like this.
“Your body is giving you goose bumps because it knows that you’re cold,” Todoroki says. His arm hovers awkwardly near Izuku’s, as if he’s unsure of what to do with it. “It’s trying to regulate your temperature. My quirk can do the same thing much more efficiently—when I’m concentrating. But, more often than not, my body’s temperature ranges are so extreme that it can’t tell whether I’m too cold or too hot. So, I don’t always have goose bumps or produce sweat, even when I should.”
“Huh,” Izuku says. “I never thought about that as a potential drawback for a half-and-half quirk. I wonder if—”
Izuku begins to mumble, but before he can get well and truly started on an analysis, he realizes—
“Wait!” Izuku says. “If you can’t always regulate your body temperature, doesn’t that mean it’s even more important that you dress for the weather? Todoroki, why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”
“I, ah,” Todoroki mumbles. He hunches his shoulders, as if the motion could hide his blushing cheeks as well as one of his turtlenecks could. “I may have accidentally…burned them all.”
Izuku’s lips twitch, but Uraraka doesn’t show as much restraint, doubling over giggling at Todoroki’s predicament.
Ever since they moved into the dorms, their teachers have treated them to a number of out-of-classroom tests and exercises. While the extra training has certainly been useful, it also means that Todoroki must be—literally—burning through his civilian clothes at an alarming rate.
“Todoroki,” Izuku tries to chastise through his own giggles. He shrugs off his All Might hoodie. “Here, take my jacket.”
Todoroki startles at the offer, but he accepts the hoodie with a nod. And…
To most people, it must seem like Todoroki doesn’t readily display his emotions, but, after two years of being his friend, Izuku knows better than that. He notices how Todoroki gives a small hum of approval as he feels the lining of the sleeve; how his eyes slip shut as he zips up the jacket; how a smile peeks out from beneath the fabric as Todoroki pulls the collar of the hoodie up to his nose.
Todoroki looks…happy.
And Izuku has been trying really hard not to die during his time at UA, but his efforts almost become for naught at the sight of Todoroki looking so cozy in Izuku’s hoodie.
“Y-you must have really been cold!” Izuku says, shooting Uraraka a pleading glance of help me, the prettiest boy in class is wearing my hoodie!
Uraraka, the traitor, only giggles again, this time at him.
“Hmm?” Todoroki opens his eyes again. When he speaks, his voice is slightly muffled by the hoodie’s fabric. “Oh. Yes, I suppose I was. Thank you, Midoriya.”
Thank you, Midoriya, Uraraka croons at him later. And, because she is kind and pushy in equal measure when it comes to Izuku’s crush, she then forces Izuku to open Snapchat.
And there, waiting patiently in Izuku’s inbox, is a photo of said crush giving a patient peace sign to the camera.
The snap is from earlier that night. Uraraka caught Todoroki mid-blink, with the hood pulled over his head. The cheery yellow of the jacket clashes horribly with Todoroki’s red hair, and the hood’s playful horns look ridiculous when placed alongside Todoroki’s flat facial expression.
Izuku fumbles to take a screenshot. It’s the most beautiful photo he’s ever seen.
***
Since Todoroki clearly needs the hoodie more than Izuku does, Izuku lets him keep it.
Unfortunately, it vanishes the very next day, shortly after another impromptu training exercise. When Izuku asks Todoroki about the hoodie afterward, the latter’s embarrassed stuttering only confirms that it’d fallen victim to Todoroki’s quirk.
Normally, Izuku would simply tease Todoroki about the incident before dropping the subject.
But the thing is, Todoroki is still cold. Now that Izuku is looking for it, he can tell. Todoroki is like some sort of cold friend cryptid: giving no obvious signs of feeling chilly, but nonetheless leaving behind blanket nests and half-full cups of tea wherever he goes.
Todoroki doesn’t seem perturbed by it. But Izuku…
Izuku can’t stop thinking about the way Todoroki smiled when he tried on Izuku’s hoodie. In that moment, Todoroki wasn’t the solemn, brooding son of the number one hero. Instead, he’d simply been…Shouto: a boy who felt safe in the company of friends.
Izuku is becoming a hero so that he can make everyone smile, but he finds himself especially driven when it comes to making Todoroki smile like that.
So, Izuku does what he knows best; he makes a plan.
Unfortunately, as two years at UA have made abundantly clear, executing on a plan is easier said than done.
“Yo, Midoriya!”
“Hi, Kirishima,” Izuku says with a wave, but—shit, now he’s lost his place. What stitch is he on again?
“I didn’t know you knit!” Kirishima says, dropping onto the couch beside him. “What are you making?”
“Um…well, it’s supposed to be a sweater,” Izuku says. He gestures to the mangled mess of yarn sitting on his lap. “But it’s not turning out so well…”
“Yeah, you should probably start with something easier. Maybe a scarf? I can give you some pointers if you want.”
“You knit?”
“Of course! Being able to make your own clothes is super manly! Plus—” Kirishima gives a sheepish grin “—with a quirk like mine, you kind of have to learn. Otherwise, I’d go bankrupt trying to replace all the clothes I tear up.”
“Todoroki has the same problem!” Izuku says. “He burned all his sweaters during training, so I’m trying to make him a new one for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”
Kirishima’s grin turns determined. “Then I’ll help you!”
“You will?”
“Yeah! Trying to help out Todoroki like this is super manly, Midoriya—I can’t just stand by while you do it all by yourself.” Kirishima turns the full wattage of his smile on Izuku. “Midoriya, will you let me join you in making sweaters for Todoroki?”
“Of course!” Izuku says, as helpless against that smile as anyone in class 1-A. “Now that I think about it, one sweater won’t be enough to get Todoroki through the winter anyway. But if we both make one, he’ll be all set! Plus, I really need some help with mine…”
“Sure. But, I’m going to be honest…you might just want to start over with this one.” Kirishima sets the tangled yarn aside. “Maybe we can get Todoroki to give it a Viking funeral.”
“Um, well—”
“Oh. Unless we can’t tell him because this is a secret, special gift, eh, Midoriya?”
“No!” Izuku protests, covering his face with his hands. His cheeks are so hot that he feels like he could give the yarn a Viking funeral. “I mean, yes, it is a secret since it’s for his birthday, but it’s not special—n-not that Todoroki doesn’t deserve something special, of course he does, he deserves lots of special things—”
“Relax, I was just kidding,” Kirishima says, though he wink says otherwise. “Now, what color yarn do you want to use?”
“I’m not sure. I was trying to make one that blended red and blue together, like his quirk, but it got all tangled…”
“Yeah, that sounds kind of complicated for your first project,” Kirishima says. He studies his own collection of yarn. “Maybe try just one color—ah, how about this dark green?”
Izuku finds himself burying his face in his hands again at Kirishima’s waggling eyebrows.
“I-I don’t even know if he likes green!” Izuku says.
“I’m pretty sure that Todoroki likes green-”
While they’re talking, the door to the dorms clicks open. Izuku leans over the couch to make sure it’s not Todoroki and sighs in relief when it’s only Yaoyorozu.
“Hey, Yaoyorozu,” he calls.
“Hello.” She pauses outside of the common room. “Did I hear you guys talking about Todoroki?”
“We’re knitting him sweaters for his birthday,” Izuku says.
Yaoyorozu’s eyes light up. “What a good idea! I just got some new yarn the other day—it’s really soft, so Todoroki should like it—and, oh, and this would be a perfect opportunity to try out my new knitting needles! I’ll be right back, don’t move.”
As it turns out, Yaoyorozu is an excellent knitting teacher—and, while Kirishima isn’t, his enthusiasm and patience more than make up for it as Izuku fumbles through his—blue, not green—sweater for Todoroki.
Something that Izuku hadn’t considered, however, is that with two of the most popular students in the common room, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of the class gathers there too.
“Oh, are we making sweaters?” Ashido asks, plopping down beside Kirishima. “That looks fun! Can I join in?”
“It is important for heroes to regulate their mental health by engaging in relaxing activities,” Iida muses, hovering over their knitting supplies. “And it’s especially important to get into such habits now, while we’re still in school and learning. What an excellent idea, Midoriya, Yaoyorozu, Kirishima! I expect no less from three aspiring heroes.”
“Thanks, man,” Kirishima laughs. “But it was all Midoriya’s idea. We’re making sweaters for Todoroki’s birthday.”
Uraraka pauses at that. “Are you sure you don’t mind us all joining then, Deku? I don’t want to steal your gift idea.”
“I think this is great, actually!” Izuku beams. “My sweater probably won’t be very good, so giving him a lot of them is a good idea. Plus, just think of how happy Todoroki will be when he gets over a dozen sweaters for his birthday.”
Izuku thinks of Todoroki’s smile again and feels warm inside: as if Todoroki’s half-hot quirk were affecting him even from miles away.
Though the feeling quickly evaporates as Jirou winks and chimes in, “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure to tell Todoroki that it was your idea. That way, you can get the romance points no matter how bad your sweater turns out.”
“I-I-I’m not looking for those!” Izuku protests. But as he stares down at his yarn, Jirou’s words race through his mind and—oh god, is the quality of this sweater really going to affect Izuku’s chances with Todoroki? But Izuku doesn’t even know how to knit a decent sweater, let alone one that says boyfriend potential…
“What if this turns out terribly?” Izuku says, putting his knitting needles down.
“It’ll be fine, Midoriya,” Iida says kindly. “It’s like you said: if most of the class is making him sweaters, it won’t matter if some aren’t perfect. Just like hero work, it’s the effort of the group that—"
“That’s nice and all, Iida, but Midoriya wants to get a boyfriend, not defeat villains,” Kaminari says.
“Hmm.” Iida mulls over the comment. “That is true, but I think it’s fairer to say that Midoriya wishes to do both of these things.”
Izuku faceplants into his yarn. “You don’t have to call me out like this.”
Jirou grins. “Do you think Todoroki would finally get the picture if I made him a rainbow sweater with Midoriya’s face on it?”
“Please don’t,” Izuku mumbles from his yarn haven.
“Come on, let’s leave him alone,” Tokoyami says. “Midoriya may be unsure of himself when it comes to knitting Todoroki’s sweater, but he has led our class to many a victory—we can trust his ability to manage this project.”
“T-thanks, Tokoyami.”
“Of course. Now, does anyone have any black yarn?”
The rest of the class groans, and Kaminari throws a pillow at Tokoyami for “enabling Todoroki’s emo ass.”
Despite the rocky start, the impromptu knitting club turns out to be pretty fun. Iida is right—after everything they’ve been through, they do need to relax. As anxious as Izuku is about his own sweater, it’s hard to feel stressed when he’s surrounded by the idle chatter of his classmates and the soft clicking of their knitting needles.
Even working together, though, it’s a rush to get the sweaters done in time, and it’s definitely a struggle to keep the whole thing a secret. Todoroki is a hero in training—and an observant one at that. Perhaps he can write off the hushed conversations and furtive meetings of his classmates as mere gossip, but even he can’t miss the new cuts on Izuku’s hands.
Izuku isn’t the only new knitter to the group, but with his stiff hand, he’s certainly the clumsiest. Iida insists that the two of them should knit more slowly and carefully, given their hands, but Izuku can’t, not with Todoroki’s birthday so close already.
Iida sighs at Izuku’s response, but doesn’t seem surprised. Everyone knows Izuku’s propensity to push himself, especially when it comes to Todoroki.
Even, perhaps, Todoroki himself. For, when Todoroki finds Izuku rummaging through the kitchen’s first-aid kit, he only sighs.
“H-hey, Todoroki,” Izuku says. He gives a wave before he realizes that, in doing so, he’s giving Todoroki a great view of the many band-aids covering his fingerstips.
Todoroki sighs again. His movements are efficient as he steps forward, plucks the band-aid out of Izuku’s hand, and inspects Izuku’s finger.
“Midoriya,” he murmurs, as he carefully affixes the bandage to the cut.
Izuku’s chest feels tight. When Todoroki says his name like that—with so much focus, so much intent—Izuku can’t help but be overcome by memories of the sports festival, the hoodie incident, and all the times in-between: all the other times that Todoroki has said, in that soft voice of his, Midoriya.
“You should be more careful,” Todoroki says.
“I-I know.” Izuku laughs weakly. “They’re, uh, just papercuts though. Maybe I should start reading the homework on a tablet?”
“That seems like a good idea.” Todoroki averts his eyes. “Though…perhaps I should be more careful too.”
“Todoroki…?”
“I thought I’d kicked this whole ‘hand crusher’ thing.” Todoroki taps Izuku’s band-aids. “But it looks like I need to work at it more.”
And, just like that, the tension in the air dissipates, and Izuku’s laughter echoes throughout the kitchen.
“Y-you’re too much, Todoroki,” Izuku giggles.
“So are you,” Todoroki murmurs.
He taps Izuku’s band-aids again, and Izuku’s face heats as he realizes that, now that the cut has been dealt with, he and Todoroki are just…holding hands.
“Your hand is cold,” Izuku mumbles. “Are you still cold?”
Todoroki shrugs. “Probably.”
“Todoroki!” Izuku clasps Todoroki’s hand in both of his in an effort to warm it up. “Do you want to borrow another jacket? Or maybe some gloves?”
Shit, should Izuku be knitting him some gloves too? But he doesn’t have time, he’s going to have to pull an all-nighter just to get the sweater done for Todoroki’s birthday…
“I-it’s fine,” Todoroki says, his hand twitching in Izuku’s grasp. “I’m used to it. What about your papercuts? Do you need any more medical supplies?”
“It’s fine.” Izuku grins. “I’m used to it.”
“Midoriya…”
“I’ll be more careful,” Izuku promises. “Until then, let me loan you some gloves? I think I have a spare pair.”
Todoroki nods. He wears the gloves around for the rest of the day—even indoors—but the very next day, the gloves vanish as their class is swept into another training exercise.
The incident only adds to Izuku’s gratitude that the rest of 1-A is helping with the sweater project. Not only would Izuku’s sweater look like a mess without their support, it seems like Todoroki is going to need nineteen sweaters to get him through the winter.
On the night before Todoroki’s birthday, Izuku’s classmates keep him company as he frantically stitches, and cheer—quietly! Iida reminds them—when Izuku finally holds out the finished product for them to see. It’s wrinkled, missing a few stitches, and one sleeve is slightly longer than the other—but it’s Izuku’s, and he couldn’t have done it without his friends’ help.
He just hopes that Todoroki likes it too.
***
Thankfully, Aizawa is never early to class, because Izuku’s not sure what he would make of his students making a small mountain of sweaters on Todoroki’s desk.
“Okay, that’s everyone’s, right?” Izuku asks.
“I think so,” Yaoyorozu says. “Oh, if only we’d had time to wrap them…Maybe we can make a quick card, if we hurry—”
“He’s coming,” Shouji says, one of his tentacles twitching toward the hallway.
“Oh, this is so exciting!” Uraraka says, shaking Izuku’s shoulder. Her enthusiasm adds onto Izuku’s own, and he finds himself nearly vibrating with anticipation.
The rest of the class must share their excitement, as Todoroki hardly gets through the door before everyone screams, “Happy birthday!”
At the beginning of their time at UA, all of their classmates yelling at him at once probably would have stunned Todoroki. But now—after two years of fighting for their lives together and learning to live with each other—Todoroki merely blinks and gives a small nod. “…Thank you.”
Todoroki approaches his desk, eyes the mountain of sweaters, and—after another slow blink—begins folding the haphazard pile into neater stacks.
“Whose sweaters are these?” Todoroki asks. “We should probably give them back before class starts.”
“T-they’re yours, Todoroki!” Izuku says. “It’s your birthday present!”
Todoroki’s hands pause mid-fold. “…Mine?”
“Deku noticed that you were super cold, so he decided that we should all make your sweaters for your birthday!” Uraraka explains. “There’s one from each of us—even Bakugou made one.”
“Only because Kirishima asked him,” Sero says with a grin.
“More like only so he could try to prove that he’s the best knitter,” Kaminari snorts.
“What do you mean try—my sweater is the best fucking one by far,” Bakugou says. He plucks a black sweater out of the pile and shoves it into Todoroki’s arms. “Here, put it on.”
Izuku has seen a lot of weird things during his time at UA, but Bakugou handing Todoroki a hand-knit sweater is certainly at the top of the list. Todoroki appears to be in a similar state of shock, as he does a familiar head tilt that Izuku has always read as well, I may not be fully processing this, but I might as well go along with it.
“It’s soft,” Todoroki says, pulling the sweater over his head.
“Of course it’s fucking soft,” Bakugou grunts.
“Too bad it has a fucking skull on it,” Kaminari says. “And here I thought we had to worry about Tokoyami. You’re both enabling Todoroki’s emo ass.”
Todoroki has already picked up Tokoyami’s sweater, but Kaminari takes it out of his hands and replaces it with a bright yellow one.
“What do you think about mine, huh, Todoroki?” Kaminari says.
Todoroki studies the sweater intently, staring at it for a long moment before concluding, “It’s very yellow.”
“Is that…good?” Kaminari mumbles to himself. “What does he mean by that?”
Jirou snorts. “He means it’s going to make him look like ketchup and mustard, you idiot—he has red hair.”
“No, all of these are wonderful,” Todoroki reassures the group. He fiddles with the sleeve of Kaminari’s sweater. “Perhaps I’m not saying the right things because I’ve never received birthday gifts from friends before. But I am grateful—thank you, everyone.”
Up until now, Izuku has mostly been laughing at his friends’ excitement and committing Todoroki’s reactions to memory. But at Todoroki’s words, Izuku feels his throat tighten with emotion, and he can’t help but raise his voice.
“Todoroki,” Izuku says. “We’ve been through so much together over the past two years. We’re a class—which means it’s our job to look after each other! And, yeah, a lot of the time that means in battle, but it also means things like this: the little things that help each other get through the day!”
“Precisely, Midoriya!” Iida says. “Could we really call ourselves heroes if we stood by while a classmate suffered?”
“We’re happy to help out a friend,” Kirishima says, clapping a hand on Todoroki’s shoulder.
Todoroki gives one of those small smiles, and Izuku feels himself melt as if Todoroki were using his left side.
“Thank you all again,” Todoroki says. Then he looks right at Izuku, his gaze just as intent as it’d been when they’d first spoken to each other at the sports festival. But this time, Todoroki’s eyes hold a warmth that Izuku—foolish Izuku—couldn’t have even imagined back then. “And thank you, Midoriya, for organizing this. Which sweater is yours?”
Izuku flushes and points to his. It looks a bit frumpy just lying there next to Kirishima’s and Yaoyorozu’s and the others, but…
“It’s the best I could do on such short notice,” Izuku mumbles at the floor. When he glances up, however, Todoroki has already slipped on the sweater over Bakugou’s. One sleeve is longer than the other, and the hem is fraying a bit, but Todoroki doesn’t seem to care. Just like he did with Izuku’s hoodie, Todoroki pulls the collar of the sweater up to his nose as if to bury himself in it. His eyes slip shut, leaving Izuku free to stare: to drink in the flushed cheeks and hint of smile that poke out from beneath the sweater.
“It’s perfect,” Todoroki murmurs.
Izuku probably would have stood there forever, blushing and fumbling over an answer until Todoroki finally opened his eyes and caught Izuku staring, but thankfully the rest of their classmates come to his aid.
“Try on mine too, Todoroki!” Mina says.
“Oh, mine too! It’s the red one with the hood,” Kirishima says.
“Mine has lily pads on it,” Tsuyu chimes in.
In the five minutes before class starts, they manage to wrangle twelve more sweaters onto Todoroki’s head. Todoroki is flushed and bemused throughout the entire process, though he manages to relax toward the end as Izuku helps him pull the final sweaters on.
Todoroki even chuckles when Kirishima compares him to Fat Gum, and Izuku beams. If Todoroki has really never received presents from friends before, if he’s really never been warm during the winter, if he’s really never laughed with his classmates like this, then…Izuku is glad to be the one to change that.
When Aizawa walks into the classroom a minute later to find Todoroki more sweater than man, he just gives a deep sigh, mutters something about uniform regulations, and zips himself up in his sleeping bag.
***
All in all, Izuku should be considering the sweater project a resounding success. Post-birthday, Todoroki “Twenty Sweaters” Shouto can often be found curled up in the common room with a sweater pulled up to his chin and the sleeves dangling over his wrists as he does homework. It’s always been rare to see Todoroki looking happy, but these days, it’s not too difficult to find him looking peaceful.
Todoroki’s peace—his warmth—is a treasured thing, and something that Izuku does not take lightly. He would never be ungrateful for it. It’s just…
Todoroki hasn’t worn Izuku’s sweater once since his birthday.
“What if he hates it?” Izuku mumbles into the couch. Uraraka pats him on the back. The two of them were planning on having a study night, along with Iida and Tsuyu, but when Todoroki walked by the common room wearing Bakugou’s sweater, it’d turned into another romantic counseling session for Izuku.
“Of course he doesn’t hate it,” Uraraka says. “He called it perfect, remember?”
“What if he was lying?” Izuku moans.
“Todoroki doesn’t seem like the type to spare anyone’s feelings,” Tsuyu says. “After all, the first day he talked to you, he called you objectively weaker than him.”
“Could him not wearing the sweater be a similar sort of power move?” Iida muses. “Perhaps he’s trying to send a message like he did before the sports festival.”
“A secret message?” Izuku whimpers.
“I think Todoroki is too straightforward for that sort of thing,” Tsuyu says.
“Don’t worry, Deku!” Uraraka says. “There’s still five more days before Todoroki goes through all the sweaters, right? Maybe he’s just saving yours for last!”
Unfortunately, as another week goes by, it becomes clear that this is not the case. Todoroki continues to look warm and sleepy as he moves about the dorms in his classmates’ sweaters, but Izuku’s frumpy blue sweater is never one of them.
Todoroki even rewears some of the sweaters he’s already worn. He seems partial to Yaoyorozu’s white sweater with red and blue specks of color, Kirishima’s red hoodie sweater, and Bakugou’s black sweater with the skull on it.
Izuku isn’t jealous. He isn’t. It’s obvious why Yaoyorozu and Kirishima’s sweaters make the cut and not Izuku’s. Their sweaters are soft, beautiful, and designed with Todoroki’s tastes in mind—meanwhile, Izuku’s probably barely fits him…
Izuku nearly gives himself an aneurysm trying to figure out why Bakugou’s sweater is a favorite and his isn’t—and, oh, nothing like a sweater crisis to make Izuku realize he hasn’t outgrown his middle school insecurities after all—but when he finally figures it out, he breathes a sigh of relief. Todoroki isn’t wearing Bakugou’s sweater for aesthetic or sentimental reasons, but for strategic ones.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Izuku declares, after Bakugou blasts another projectile away from Todoroki during a training exercise.
“I should hope so,” Todoroki says, carefully layering ice onto the “bomb” they’ve tracked down. “Otherwise, I would be placing us all in grave danger.”
“Not with your quirk! I-I mean with Bakugou’s sweater,” Izuku says. “You’re wearing it to rile him up right now, right? He becomes way more protective of you when you wear it, because he doesn’t want you to ruin it. Normally, this means yelling at people who could spill food on you, but during battle, it becomes a lot more significant.”
Todoroki raises an eyebrow. “I suppose. I just like that it’s black.”
“And the skull?”
“Tokoyami has been telling me to let out my inner emo,” Todoroki deadpans. He frowns as the bomb’s timer continues to go down.
A robot looms overhead, casting a shadow over Todoroki, but robots were something they learned to overcome in their first year—Izuku barely has to look as he jumps up and kicks the robot’s head to the other side of the field.
Perhaps it’s a good thing that the teachers are apparently taking it easy on them today, as Izuku’s become more than a bit distracted now that he’s mulling over Todoroki’s situation.
“Now that I think about it, everyone is more protective of you when you wear their sweaters,” Izuku mumbles to himself. “Last week, Kirishima didn’t tug on your hood even when doing so could have won him the round. And the other day, Ashido gave up a prime tactical advantage to stop a robot from incinerating the sweater she made. If you time your sweater-wearing correctly, you could change the outcome of an entire training. Of course, it’s a risky strategy to wear Bakugou’s sweater, since he’s so single-minded, but it could also reap great rewards, since his protection would almost ensure that you win the session…” Izuku frowns, crestfallen. “Is that why you haven’t worn my sweater? You don’t want me to protect you?”
Todoroki has stopped working on the bomb, and is instead staring at Izuku. One of his cheeks is covered in frost, the other is colored with a light flush, and when he speaks, his voice is low enough to almost be missed over the din of battle.
But Izuku hears it. He always hears Todoroki.
“Why would wearing a sweater make any difference?” Todoroki says. “I know that you’ll always protect me, Midoriya.”
Izuku flushes. “O-oh.” Is he really so transparent? Could Todoroki know just how badly Izuku wants there to be an always when it comes to the two of them?
Todoroki looks away and focuses on the bomb again—which they probably should have been doing this entire time.
“You know, I never thought about my sweater choice as a potential tactic,” Todoroki says thoughtfully. “That’s actually a pretty good idea.”
“Wait, you mean that’s not what you’ve been doing?”
Todoroki shrugs. “I was mostly wearing Bakugou’s sweater because I found his behavior amusing.”
“What?”
Todoroki puts a final layer of ice on the bomb and sighs in relief as the timer finally fizzles out.
“Here,” Todoroki says, handing the now-defunct bomb over to Izuku. “Get this to Jirou; I’ll start looking for the second bomb.”
As Izuku runs, he tries to embody the urgency that the exercise deserves. It’s difficult, however, when it feels much more likely that Todoroki will one day be the end of him rather than some villain.
***
Todoroki still doesn’t wear Izuku’s sweater, but after that training, he at least decreases the frequency with which he wears Bakugou’s. Izuku is thankful for this, as it was only a matter of time before Bakugou found out what Todoroki was doing.
Unfortunately, another sweater has taken Bakugou’s place as Todoroki’s favorite, and it is not one that torments Izuku any less.
“Jirou, he keeps wearing the rainbow one you made him,” Izuku mumbles.
He’s well aware that he and Jirou should be working on their science project instead of talking about his crush, but the Sweater Crisis has been going on for nearly a month now. He thinks he can be excused for the wallowing. “He seems to like it even more than Yaoyorozu’s.”
“That’s because he’s gay,” Jirou says wisely.
“But he’s not gay for me!”
“Yeah, he is,” Jirou says. She turns the page of her textbook. “Yesterday I asked him how he liked my sweater and he said, ‘it’s great, since I’m gay. Specifically gay for Midoriya Izuku.”
“H-h-he didn’t say that!” Izuku tugs up the collar of his own sweater so that it hides his blush.
“Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t,” Jirou says with a shrug. “The only way to find out is to ask him.”
But the thing is, Izuku has already asked Todoroki about the sweater thing. It was an indirect ask, yes, but still—it’s not like Izuku can just ask again, not when his feelings are already so transparent.
Besides, Izuku already knows what the answer would be. Todoroki apparently isn’t avoiding Izuku’s sweater for strategic purposes—I know that you’ll always protect me, Midoriya—so what else could it be? Todoroki is probably just too polite to say that he dislikes the sweater.
Izuku will get over it. He will, but—
It would be easier to get over it if Todoroki would stop looking so cute in everyone else’s sweaters.
“How are you?” Todoroki asks, tugging at the sleeve of one such sweater as he squeezes next to Izuku in the crowded common room. Todoroki doesn’t always come to these sort of communal activities, but he’s been a lot more present for them since his birthday. Maybe the class’ gesture with the sweaters helped boost Todoroki’s social confidence? Regardless, Izuku is glad that Todoroki knows he has friends among 1-A.
Though he is not glad that Todoroki always wears the rainbow sweater to their movie nights. As if Izuku needs to be more distracted by Todoroki Shouto.
“Midoriya?”
Izuku flushes when he realizes that he’s just been staring at Todoroki. “I’m fine! Completely fine. How are you?”
Todoroki raises an eyebrow. “I’m okay. Sleepy.” He holds out his sleeve. “Do you like the sweater that Jirou made for me?”
Of course Izuku does. It’s cute, Todoroki is cute—god, Todoroki is so cute. It’s just…
Izuku just wishes that Todoroki would wear his gay hand-knit sweater.
“Midoriya? Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Izuku gives a jerky nod. “I’m great! Just, um, tired, I guess. That sweater is really great, Todoroki. It, uh, it’s, it really—suits you?”
Izuku cringes at himself so hard that he worries he gave himself whiplash, but Todoroki only smiles at the comment.
“Yes, I think so too,” Todoroki says, seemingly pleased with himself. His small smile, however, soon yields to a yawn, and it quickly becomes clear that Todoroki isn’t going to make it through five minutes of this movie. Izuku wonders why he even comes to these things, if he’d rather be asleep.
Perhaps he isn’t the only one who thinks about such things. Long after the film ends, long after Todoroki’s head has drifted onto Izuku’s shoulder, and long after the rest of their classmates have gone back to their rooms, Tsuyu glances at Todoroki and says, “He must really like spending time with us.”
“I hope so,” Izuku says, keeping his voice soft so that he doesn’t wake Todoroki. As quiet as he is, his breaths are still enough to lightly move Todoroki’s thin strands of hair. The white and red strands are hopelessly mixed together, and Izuku wants nothing more than to spend the night putting them back in place.
When he looks back up at Tsuyu, her gaze is a bit too intent, so Izuku quickly jokes, “I mean, Iida is definitely going to lecture Todoroki about his sleeping habits tomorrow, so I just hope he thinks it was worth it.”
“It’s always worth to him when it comes to you, Midoriya,” Tsuyu says simply.
“I…hope so,” Izuku admits. It’s a bit easier to admit such things, this late at night.
Tsuyu gives him a small smile and then yawns. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Midoriya.”
“Night, Tsuyu.” Izuku yawns too as she leaves the room. He carefully shifts his shoulder until Todoroki begins to stir. “Todoroki?”
“Midoriya?” Todoroki murmurs into his shoulder. He’s close enough that Izuku can feel the warmth of Todoroki’s breath, even though his shirt.
“The movie’s over,” Izuku manages, glad that Todoroki isn’t in a state to notice his blush. “Time to go to bed.”
“M’kay.”
Todoroki yawns until his jaw pops. Izuku suddenly remembers bunking with Todoroki during the summer training camp: how immediately Todoroki would wake up every morning. For him to be so languid, so…vulnerable around Izuku as he wakes up…perhaps there is something to Tsuyu’s words after all.
“Good night, Midoriya,” Todoroki says, snapping Izuku out of his reverie.
“Good night, Todoroki.”
The next morning, Iida does lecture Todoroki about proper sleeping habits—“You should at least use a pillow instead of Midoriya! Think of how a sore neck could affect your ability in battle!”—but, judging by Todoroki’s contended yawns throughout the day, Todoroki seems to think that it was worth it.
***
Todoroki becomes a constant presence at movie nights, though he rarely stays awake for the whole thing. Thankfully for Izuku’s blood pressure, the rainbow sweater gets filtered back into the queue and is replaced with other—ah, equally colorful sweaters.
“What’s wrong?” Todoroki asks, as Izuku tries to conceal his laughter at Todoroki’s sweater.
“Nothing, just—Kaminari’s sweater kind of does make you look like ketchup and mustard,” Izuku manages.
Todoroki looks down at his sweater. “Is that good?”
Izuku finally bursts out laughing, though he gives Todoroki an obliging once-over. “Normally it wouldn’t, but—I think you pull it off, actually.”
Todoroki smiles, and then the next night, that sweater goes back into his closet too. It’s a weird pattern—weird enough that Izuku isn’t even sure that it is a pattern—but Todoroki keeps wearing the weirdest sweaters his classmates make him, waiting expectantly for Izuku’s laughter and commentary, and then filing the sweater back into the queue.
Todoroki has been wearing Tsuyu’s sweater for the past few days now. Ever since Izuku looked at it, pointed to own his hair, and exclaimed, “Hey, we’re both green!” Todoroki seems oddly reluctant to switch it out.
The coldest night of the year, however, is enough to disrupt everyone’s wardrobes. Everyone in the class is now hidden beneath their heaviest, ugliest sweaters. Todoroki is even wearing two sweaters, and Izuku finds himself shivering despite wearing his warmest hoodie.
“H-hey, Todoroki,” Izuku says, rubbing his hands together for warmth. Maybe he should get a pair of gloves from his room? But the movie has already started…
Todoroki takes one look at Izuku and…begins taking his sweater off.
“W-what are you doing?” Izuku squeaks.
Todoroki tosses the sweater at him. It’s the one Uraraka made him, pink with little star patterns scattered throughout.
“You’re cold,” Todoroki says simply.
“But now you only have one sweater.”
Todoroki looks down at his remaining sweater—Tsuyu’s again—and shrugs. “I’ll be fine. Think of it as me repaying you for the All Might jacket.”
Izuku smiles, and—like a freezing, lovestruck fool—pulls on the sweater before he can even consider the consequences of such an action.
Because, oh god, Todoroki’s sweater smells like him. It smell likes vanilla and mint and Todoroki, and now Izuku is wearing it. He has to keep his cool while wearing this gay sweater all night.
“Um!” Izuku tries to wave his hands in protest, but the sweater’s sleeves cover them completely, and the small twitch of Todoroki’s lips tell Izuku just how silly he looks. “Um, are you sure about this? I don’t want you to be cold—”
“Just accept the fucking boyfriend sweater, nerd, we’re starting the movie,” Bakugou says.
A boyfriend sweater? That can’t be what this is, right? Just because Izuku wants Todoroki to be his boyfriend doesn’t make this a boyfriend sweater. Even though Todoroki did lend him said sweater, and the sweater does smell like him, and, according to everyone else, Todoroki actually maybe does want to be his boyfriend—
“It’s fine,” Todoroki says quietly, settling in next to Izuku. “You can just…give it back to me later, if you’re that worried about it.”
Maybe not a boyfriend sweater then? Izuku is tempted to reach for his phone and begin researching the intricacies of such gestures, but—then Todoroki shifts so that his left side presses against him, and Izuku suddenly finds himself too warm to care much about it.
Izuku yawns. He thinks he can understand why Todoroki never stays awake for these movie nights. It’s difficult even for Izuku to keep his eyes open like this: as his friends’ chatter and Todoroki’s breathing blend into pleasant background noise; as the smell of vanilla, mint, and Todoroki surrounds him; and as he fills with feelings of warmth, safety, and love.
The feeling of warmth and smell of vanilla are the first things he wakes up to the next morning: tucked into his own bed and still snuggled up in Todoroki’s sweater.
Izuku gives a lazy stretch as he glances at the clock. 8:34am. He wonders if Todoroki is awake yet: if he’s enjoying this rare, sleepy morning just as much as Izuku is. It’d be hard not to, if all of his sweaters are as comfortable as the one Izuku is wearing.
Izuku rubs his cheek with the soft sleeve as he checks his phone. There’s a new snap, from Uraraka. Izuku expects it to be silly photos from last night, but—
It’s a photo of him and Todoroki: both of them asleep and leaning on each other. Izuku’s nose is buried in Todoroki’s shoulder and Todoroki’s face is half-hidden by Izuku’s mess of hair.
Izuku groans and buries himself further into his sweater. Unfortunately, that only treats him to more of Todoroki’s vanilla and mint smell, and he groans again. As much as Izuku wants to keep this—maybe boyfriend?—sweater forever, he’d better get it back to Todoroki before he starts to miss it.
The hallways are quiet this early on a Sunday, so Izuku keeps his knock soft on Todoroki’s door. “Todoroki? You awake?”
He receives a sleepy grunt of affirmation in response. Izuku chuckles to himself—Todoroki may usually wake up early, but he is not a morning person.
This is confirmed by the fact that, when Izuku lets himself in, Todoroki is curled up in his bed, clearly still half-asleep. Most of his body is covered by a thick comforter, but Izuku can see a flash of yellow beneath it.
“Did you get a new blanket?” Izuku asks. “I thought you didn’t like yellow…”
Izuku trails off. At the sound of his voice, Todoroki had shifted and the comforter had been pulled back, revealing Izuku’s All Might hoodie draped over Todoroki’s shoulders, as well as…
The blue, frumpy sweater that Izuku knitted him all those weeks ago. Unlike the All Might hoodie, Todoroki hugs this sweater close to his chest, pressing his nose into the fabric, and Izuku knows what it means to press your nose into someone else’s sweater like that, because now he’s done that with Todoroki’s sweater.
Izuku gapes at Todoroki, which apparently gives Todoroki enough time to fully wake up, process what just occurred, and freeze.
“Y-you’re hugging my sweater,” Izuku manages.
“…Yes.”
“But…you hate my sweater.”
Todoroki raises an eyebrow and glances down to where he’s still clutching said sweater. “I obviously don’t.”
“But you never wore it!” Izuku squeaks. “A-and one sleeve is too long and the stitching is all weird on one side!”
“It’s true that it’s not as well-made as the others,” Todoroki says, casually breaking Izuku’s heart, “but even so, it is…precious to me, Midoriya.”
And, just like that, maybe Izuku’s heart can be repaired after all. “Todoroki…”
Todoroki slowly sits up. He stares at the sweater that now rests on his lap, and runs a careful hand along the uneven stitches.
“I’m should apologize,” Todoroki says. “It didn’t occur to me that you would have thought I hated your gift—” He gives a wry smile “—when, actually, the opposite is the case.”
“You…” Izuku flushes, trying to quell the hope that flares in his chest, but...
Deep down, Izuku has always been a creature who hopes.
“You love it?” he asks.
“Of course,” Todoroki says easily, as if it were simple fact. “Midoriya, when you and the others gave me those sweaters, it meant so much to me. I didn’t want to accidentally burn any of them—but especially not yours. I try not to wear it at all, but…” Todoroki shrugs. “On nights when I can’t sleep, it helps to hold it.”
Izuku can’t help but laugh: in relief and happiness and—oh, love, so much love for this boy.
“I think you should wear it,” Izuku blurts out.
It’s a bold thing to say, perhaps, but now that the evidence is laid in front of him, Izuku can’t help but wonder whether Todoroki had taken Izuku’s advice on strategic sweater-wearing to heart. He can’t help but wonder whether Todoroki has been curating his sweaters based on Izuku’s taste, whether he’s been wearing those silly patterns to get a smile out of Izuku—and, if that’s the case, then Izuku knows what that means as well as he knows what it means to press your nose into someone else’s sweater.
It’s enough to make Izuku feel brave enough: to ask a beautiful boy to wear his sweater.
Todoroki hesitates. “But what if I ruin it?”
“Then I’ll make you another one,” Izuku reassures him. He grins. “Todoroki, I’ll make you as many sweaters as you want! You don’t have to worry about burning one or two.”
It’s Todoroki’s turn to let out a little laugh. “I can’t seem to say it often enough, Midoriya, but…thank you.”
Todoroki carefully slips the sweater over his head, pulling the too-long sleeves over his wrists and the collar up to his nose. He’s smiling, and it’s enough to make Izuku feel brave again, brave enough to ask—”
“Todoroki.” Izuku takes a deep breath. “Is this a boyfriend sweater?”
The sweater partially obscures Todoroki’s cheeks, but Izuku can still see the way his ears turn bright red at the question.
“I think,” Todoroki says slowly, “that would depend on whether the person who gave it to me wants to be my boyfriend.”
“I asked you first,” Izuku huffs, though he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “But yeah—of course that’s what I want, Todoroki.”
Todoroki looks around his bed and grabs the All Might hoodie. He stands up, studies the pink sweater Izuku is already wearing, and then—wraps the All Might jacket around Izuku’s shoulders and carefully pulls the hood up.
“Now…we both have boyfriend sweaters,” Todoroki says shyly, tugging gently on one of the hoodie’s strings.
“It’s not a boyfriend sweater if it was already my sweater. And I’m not sure Uraraka’s counts either,” Izuku says playfully, though he’s too giddy to actually argue the point. After all, his hoodie smells like vanilla and mint, Todoroki himself stands only inches in front of him, and Todoroki just called the two of them boyfriends.
“I’ll just have to get you another one then,” Todoroki says solemnly. “It’s not fair if I have a boyfriend sweater and you don’t.”
He tugs on the hoodie string again, harder this time, until Izuku takes the hint and steps closer, his lips finally meeting Todoroki’s in a kiss. Izuku melts into the kiss, suddenly feeling very warm in both a sweater and a hoodie. His skin flushes and his body hums as though he were activating his full cowl. And Izuku thinks he understands now, how Todoroki could be so worried about losing control of his quirk around Izuku’s sweater, if this is how boyfriend sweaters make people feel.
But Izuku wouldn’t give up this moment for a million sweaters. Todoroki’s lips are soft and sweet as he deepens the kiss, Izuku can feel Todoroki’s smile against his own lips, and the two of them are wrapped in wool and comfort and warmth.
When their lips finally part, Todoroki rests his forehead against Izuku’s.
“What’s your favorite color?” Todoroki asks. “I need to know my boyfriend’s preferences if I’m going to make him a sweater.”
Izuku grins, blushing at hearing Todoroki talk to him like this: so seriously, as if there could be nothing so important as resting their foreheads together and asking about Izuku’s favorite color.
“I like All Might’s colors. Blue and yellow and red…I’ll like whatever you make though. What about you?” Izuku asks. “I need to make you a back-up sweater so that you can start wearing this one. What color do you want?”
Todoroki hums. He sweeps down Izuku’s hood so that he can run a gentle hand through his tangled bedhead.
“Definitely green,” Todoroki says.
“Green it is,” Izuku murmurs, leaning in to kiss Todoroki again. Izuku, strategist that he is, is already thinking about the yarn that he needs to buy and the patterns he needs to consult to make Todoroki his green sweater. But mostly, his thoughts remain in the moment as he slips his fingers into the loose stitches of Todoroki’s sweater, pulls him close, and soaks in his warmth.