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Shouto comes knocking to Izuku’s door after class, as per his usual routine, though, unlike other times, he’s not waiting for him when he opens the door, with a smile on his face and arms wide open. Instead, Izuku is standing in front of a mirror, tugging at the hem of his shirt and the ends of his hair, brows knitting together in a deep frown that tugs at Shouto’s heartstrings the moment he lays eyes on him. Carefully, he steps inside his boyfriend’s room, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible, yet Izuku seems to catch it anyway, looking his way with wide-eyes akin to those of a deer caught in headlights, quickly crossing his arms over his chest.
“Sh-Shouto… What are you doing here?”
“I always come over after five.”
Izuku gasps, looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table in shock. “I didn’t notice the time…”
He looks away, expression distant, and Shouto approaches, taking his hand to lead him towards the bed so they can sit side by side. Izuku looks down at his hands, gripping the fabric of his sweats and bunching it up at the knees, his knuckles turning white with the force. Shouto inches closer, his right side flush against Izuku’s left, and he casually runs his foot against his boyfriend’s, something he tends to do to distract him from his thoughts when he gets too lost in them.
“What’s wrong?”
Izuku shakes his head weakly, but there are tears welling up in his eyes even as he mutters a quiet “…nothing.”
There’s a heavy sigh at Shouto’s lips, not so much exasperated or disappointed as it might be saddened. He doesn’t like to see Izuku hurting and he wants to be able to help, but it’s somewhat hard to help when he won’t tell him the reason for his anguish. It doesn’t matter how clearly he sees it in his eyes, in the blank stare he aims at some random point in the room trying to ignore whatever thoughts are screaming loudly in his brain, like Shouto knows they are. If Izuku isn’t willing to tell him, to let him in and do his best to make it better, there’s not much he can do but watch as his boyfriend spirals down into a depressive episode.
“I know when you’re lying to me.” Shouto tries anyway, hopeful that it might somehow push him. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Izuku blinks and a few droplets fall down to stain his pantlegs and the back of his scarred hands. “You can tell me what’s bothering you. You know I’ll always listen.”
“It’s stupid.”
Izuku’s voice is choked, as if something is stuck in his throat and making it almost impossible for him to speak. Shouto places a hand over his, rubbing away the tears that have gathered there before squeezing gently.
“It’s never stupid if it’s hurting you.”
With his free hand, Izuku wipes at his eyes, hiccups already breaking through him, and he takes a deep and steadying breath.
“It’s just… One of those days…”
“Care to elaborate?”
Izuku sobs, leaning his head on Shouto’s shoulder. “I feel… I feel l-like a fake…”
For a few heartbeats, Shouto considers his words, humming thoughtfully. “Why do you feel that way?”
He notices how Izuku rubs at his chest forcefully, as if trying to get rid of something that’s stuck to his shirt, his lips pulling down into a grimace. “Because… I’m not like… I don’t…”
Throwing his head back, he tries to keep his tears at bay and his bottom lip from trembling. Shouto squeezes his hand harder, encouraging him to keep going. Come on, Izuku. Tell me what is weighing you down. Open up to me, please. He grips his shirt again, swiping at his chest, tugging at the straps subtly visible beneath it.
“I’m not like you. Like them. I’m… I’m not…”
“Izuku… Look at me.” Tearful green eyes meet his when Izuku lifts his head and forces himself to face Shouto, who brings a warm left hand to stroke his freckled cheek gently, tracing the invisible lines between them with his thumb. “Just because you haven’t started your transition doesn’t make you any less of a man.”
Izuku chokes on a sob, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away as well, adamant about avoiding Shouto’s gaze entirely. “I just-” He cuts off with another hiccup, more tears following the same paths left behind by the others, staining his cheeks anew. “S-sometimes it’s just… I don’t feel right.”
“Izuku…”
“A-and you? I can’t… I can’t stop thinking sometimes… You told me… You said you liked men and…” Shouto waits for him to gather his bearings, so many things he wants to say to reassure him that he has nothing to worry about but knowing he’s not done. Shouto stays respectfully quiet until Izuku can get out everything he needs to say before he interjects. “When you think about us being together, d-don’t you feel…”
Izuku trails off, a high-pitched cry cutting off as he covers his mouth to muffle any others that might threaten to spill out. Shouto senses the meaning even if the words aren’t there, the tone more evident than even his boyfriend’s scrunched up features. Disgusted? The very thought makes Shouto’s heart clench painfully, his own throat to close up, and he feels like he might cry himself from how much it hurts that Izuku would think something like that of himself. Instead, he forces his thoughts elsewhere and the corners of his mouth upwards as he leans to place his forehead over Izuku’s, their noses brushing together and breaths mingling as he speaks against his mouth, lips not quite touching.
“Overjoyed? Like a swarm of butterflies has decide to have an uprising in my chest and stomach both? Like my heart could beat right out of my chest? Like I’m the luckiest person on earth to have you love me and the chance to love you back? Like I still don’t even know what I’ve done to deserve someone as wonderful as you? Yes. I feel all of those.”
A breathless and wet laugh breaks out of Izuku, his shaking hands coming up to rest against his neck. “Stop it…”
“I’m just saying the truth, Izuku.” Shouto leans closer still, feeling Izuku’s breaths stutter even more. “I love you. All of you. You’re the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. And I’m so happy to be the one who gets to call you mine.”
A small whine crawls out of Izuku’s lips, drowned by Shouto’s own as he finally closes the distance between them to kiss him. He feels Izuku’s fingers twitch, nails digging slightly into his skin as he pulls his face closer before breaking apart mere moments later, his heaving sobs still wracking through him violently. Shouto wraps both his arms around his boyfriend, holding him tightly as he keeps crying, moving to bury his face in the crook of his neck, body quaking with his broken sobs and ragged breaths. Long fingers tangle in wild curls as Shouto whispers sweet nothings into his ear, kissing the top of his head and rubbing soft and comforting circles against his back.
“T-this s-sucks…”
Izuku mumbles the words, the misery loud in his quiet voice and Shouto just holds him tighter, kisses him more firmly, tells him he loves him louder and clearer. He lets him ride it out, doing his best to calm him down and reassure him, to make him feel validated and accepted. His chest aches just as badly as he imagines Izuku’s does but he keeps kissing him, smiling softly against his hair to ensure that when he looks up he sees all the support, all the love he holds for him.
“It’s okay, Izuku… Let it out… I love you, I’m here for you, alright?”
Shouto feels him nod against his neck and keeps holding him for as long as he needs. It could take a minute, an hour, the entire night, Shouto will be with him until he feels like he can take a deep breath without crumpling to dust. He knows how hard it is to love himself, knows what it feels like to look in the mirror and not liking what’s staring back at him, but he’ll be damned if he will ever let Izuku think there’s anything wrong with him, that he’s not right. He’s the most perfect person Shouto has ever met, and nothing could ever make him believe otherwise. So he tells Izuku, time and time again, however many times it takes for him to believe it and then a few more just to be sure. And whenever he starts doubting it again, Shouto will keep reminding him, until that bright smile is back on his face and reaches his eyes, however puffy they may be.
That smile, small or stretching so wide it looks like it might hurt, could light up the entire universe, and Shouto will fight to see it for as long as he lives.
Izuku leans into his touch when Shouto strokes his cheek again once he’s finally pulled back, breathing levelling slowly but surely. “You’re the most beautiful soul to ever grace the earth.” Shouto whispers and Izuku smiles weakly, but genuinely.
“Thank you… For everything you do for me.”
“You deserve all of it and more, my love.”