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The world must have it out for Izuku. First, his car breaks down and when he takes it into the shop, he’s told that it’s going to take 3-4 days to fix because they needed to order a part and it would take a day or two to ship and come into the shop. Izuku had nothing against public transportation- it was a very economical and eco-friendly way to travel- it just meant that he would have to rework his entire morning routine for the next few days. Then, he gets his essay back in his English Literature class and his heart sinks at the sight of the big C+ in red ink screaming at him from the top of his essay. A C+ wasn’t the worst grade in the world but Izuku had been really proud of this essay and thought it was one of the best ones he had written for this class. Apparently, his teacher thought otherwise.
Now, on his way home from work, the bus broke down. The driver had said there was a problem with the engine and it would take about 45 minutes for another bus to be able to come to pick them up because of course, there was a storm happening outside. Today was really just not his day. Izuku leaned against the window miserably, eyes drifting around the suburban neighborhood lazily. His stop wasn’t for another 15 minutes which meant he’d be getting home almost half an hour later than normal. Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem with that, he was just really tired. Customers had been particularly rude tonight at the restaurant and Izuku wanted nothing more than to go home and decompress with some a trashy novel Uraraka had recommended to him and a warm blanket.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Izuku recognized the scenery outside of the safety of the bus. The rain falling steadily on the roof of the bus provided a good soundtrack to his memories as he recalled driving this way with Iida and Uraraka once a while back. Distantly, he recalled clutching a bottle of wine in between his hands while he gazed out the back seat window of Iida’s car while Uraraka- who had called shotgun- explained some wild story from her job. Izuku had only been half-listening. He had been so focused on the whirling colors passing by him as they drove and the way his fingers itched to transfer reality to paper. Izuku could perfectly imagine his protagonist standing among these unsuspecting buildings, ready to investigate the mysteries and the magic held within them. Storylines and new characters raced through his brain, taking his plot in wild directions.
Where had they been going? Oh, that’s right. Butterflies swarmed in Izuku’s stomach at the memory. Todoroki had just moved into his apartment in the area and had invited their high school class to a housewarming party. Well, he hadn’t invited them- Yaoyorozu had- but Todoroki hadn’t been adamantly against the idea either. Todoroki had in fact invited Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku to the party himself. Izuku had, of course, accepted a little too quickly and then on the day of the event, had stressed for an hour about what to wear. It had taken a very long phone call with Uraraka to calm him down enough to actually get dressed. The party had been loud and obnoxious, as that was to be expected when class 1-A got together, but it had also been warm and comforting and Izuku had realized how much he had missed all of his high school friends. It had been about two years since they had all been in the same room- the last time being graduation- and Izuku had missed the feeling of family and belonging that had accompanied this group of people.
The people he really cared about though had stayed with him past graduation. Iida and Uraraka and Todoroki and even Kacchan (not that he would admit it) all still talked regularly and it provided a sense of safety as he continued on in life. He wouldn’t be half as confident in pursuing his comic if he didn’t have the support of those people behind him. More specifically, the support of one person.
Izuku had realized his feelings for Todoroki during their third year. It had been a subtle moment, almost like someone had flipped a light switch on in his mind. They had been at lunch and Izuku wanted to drop dead on the floor. He had stayed up all night trying to study for a physics test- he aced it- and now wanted to sleep for seven years at least. When he slumped onto the bench at the lunch table, tray haphazardly thrown next to Todoroki’s, he had immediately been fixed with the concerned looks of his friends. “What happened to you?” Uraraka questioned. “You stayed up all night again didn’t you?” She rolled her eyes, resting her hand on her propped up elbow. “Deku, you need to start taking better care of yourself.”
“She’s right Midoriya! It is vital for people our age to get at least eight hours of sleep every night! It could be quite detrimental for your health should you neglect this!” Iida announced and Izuku could only nod along sleepily and chuckle. Todoroki had been quiet but that wasn’t out of character for him. The world around him swam a little and he found himself tilting to the side, head bumping into Todoroki’s shoulder.
“Oh, sorry Todoroki,” Izuku yawned. Through his squinted eyes, he could see Todoroki shrug and at the time, Izuku thought he had imagined Todoroki shifting slightly closer to him on the bench. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and with a barely-there blush on his cheeks, Izuku took a risk and leaned his head back onto Todoroki’s shoulder. Izuku tensed, waiting for the boy underneath him to move. He didn’t however and Izuku felt himself melt into his warmth. In tiny creeping movements, Todoroki’s hand came to rest on the other side of Izuku on the bench to brace himself and Izuku felt the muscles in his shoulder tense ever so slightly.
He could feel the muscles in his arm and if he sunk ever so slightly, Izuku knew his side would be flush with tight ab muscles. Todoroki had told Izuku once that he trained in the gym at least three times a week. Apparently, it was one of the few ways he could have some semblance of control in his life what with his father managing every other aspect of it. Izuku had learned more and more about Todoroki’s father as the years went on and Izuku hated him that much more with every new piece of information he was given.
Comforted by the warmth radiating off Todoroki, Izuku’s eyes started to slip shut. He was so tired and Todorki’s shoulder was surprisingly comforted but Todoroki was a very surprising guy. Izuku struggled to keep his eyes open as the claws of sleep begged for him to submit. It was hard to resist and felt those claws snag the subconscious of his mind. Just before he slipped fully off into sleep, Izuku felt Todoroki’s arm wrap tight around his waist, securing him in place.
Oh. The strong feeling of Todoroki’s arm was safe and comforting and Izuku wanted to lose himself in the feeling. He felt Todoroki shift his head down closer to Izuku. “It’s okay. You can sleep,” was whispered so close to his ear and a shiver ran down his spine. If his voice was that close, that meant his lips weren’t far off either and Izuku suddenly had a strong urge to tilt his head up and find them. But he didn’t because he was clearly delirious from sleep deprivation and wasn’t actually having thoughts about one of his best friends like that.
Had that been the only time he’d thought something along those lines, he would have been able to convince himself of this. However, those thoughts had been poking and nagging at Izuku for months now. Anytime Todoroki would smile or bless Izuku’s ears with a delicate laugh, his heart would clench and his mind would offer up unhelpful thoughts of how he never wanted to stop hearing Todoroki laugh. Izuku had been comfortable with his sexuality for a long time but being comfortable with having a crush on one of his best friends was almost unfathomable. Yet here he was and Izuku hadn’t known what to do with it at the time. Heck, he still didn’t know what to do with it.
Izuku danced around Todoroki and if Uraraka was right, Todoroki was dancing around him as well but Izuku didn’t really believe her. There was no way someone as cool as Todoroki had any kind of feelings for him. He was nothing compared to the great Shoto Todoroki All he could do was pine after a man he couldn’t have. Izuku was content with pining; it made his heart hurt every time another man smiled at Todoroki or laughed at something he said even when Todoroki met it with a blank stare in return. But what else was Izuku to do? He couldn’t risk losing something as valuable to him as his friendship with Todoroki. So, he resigned himself to keep his fantasies to himself and think only of what he could have with Todoroki.
Here and now, the thoughts of his friend were even greater than normal because Izuku was currently on the same street as Todoroki’s apartment. It was a little farther down but Izuku remembered enough of the way that he is sure he could find his way to it with little trouble. With a huff, Izuku slung the backpack he carried with him everywhere over his shoulder and made his way to the front of the bus. “Excuse me, I need to get off.” The bus driver looked at him like he had grown two heads.
“What are you talkin’ about kid? It’s pourin’ out there. I don’t want to be responsible if you drown,” the man huffed.
Izuku smiled, gripping the straps of his backpack a little tighter. “I know sir but, I know someone who lives not too far from here. I’ll be okay.” The man was still eyeing him warily so Izuku tacked on, “I promise I won’t sue if something happens to me!”
Those seemed to be the magic words because the driver shook his head and opened up the bus doors. “It’s your funeral kid.”
Izuku beamed. “Thank you!” He turned to face the open doors and took a deep breath to steel himself against the impending onslaught of water. With head tucked low, he headed out into the storm.
In almost an instant, Izuku was soaked through to the bone. The chill accompanying the fall-almost-winter days was intensified a hundred times by the rain and Izuku couldn’t help the chatter of his teeth. His mind did appreciate the aesthetics of the world around him. Everything was slightly blurry through the sheets of rain, swirling the neon signs of shops around him and mixing the browns and reds of buildings. If Izuku could live out one of his dreams, it would look like this. He’s just barely able to see where he’s putting his feet and has to stick close to the walls of the buildings to be able to see the numbers on them. Those ring out against the hazy grey world like brass beacons of light.
Izuku makes his way down the street without another soul to take up space on the sidewalk. It’s as if the world has been completely abandoned save for Midoriya and he basks in the solitary beauty of it all. Bricks are bumpy under his fingertips and the rain seeping through his socks is freezing against his toes. Izuku pulls his sopping wet jacket closer around him and carries on. Time seems to stretch endlessly between him and his destination. In the rain, time is an illusion. There is only wet and loud and the consistent pitter-patter of rain on the metal roofs of cars and homes and businesses.
Then, brilliantly, Shoto’s apartment building rises out of the distance like a lighthouse. Though the exterior matches all the other apartment complexes next to it, Izuku instinctively knows it’s the one. Had he not been worried he would slip and break his nose on the concrete, Izuku would have run towards it. He did, however, increase the speed of his steps and the thought of a roof over his head made his anticipation grow with every second. Soon, he found himself entering the apartment building and desperately trying to remember the number to Todoroki’s apartment.
Thinking back, Izuku remembered punching a ‘3’ into the elevator panel so that’s what he does. He’s shivering in an elevator, arms wrapped uselessly around one another and watches as the numbers on the top of the screen go up one by one. When the doors open, Izuku stumbles out of the elevator. His teeth are still chattering and it’s only at this moment that Izuku starts to realize how uncharacteristically poorly thought out his plan had been. Going out into the rain like that is guaranteed to make him sick for a day if he’s lucky but with how his luck has been going recently, it is bound to last for three days, maybe more. Hopefully, he can find Todoroki’s apartment as quickly as possible.
Quickly, he walks down the hallway, scanning the numbers for one that rings a distant bell. With a hesitant hand, he knocks on the door numbered 304. The person who opens, however, is not Shoto Todoroki. “Hello there!” An older woman is grinning up at Izuku from her doorway and a blush of embarrassment does little to warm his shaking body.
“Oh- um, I’m sorry! I’m looking for my friend but I got the number wrong it seems,” Izuku says, one hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Who’s your friend, my dear? I know everyone on this floor, I can help you get where you need to go. Oh my, you’re shivering. Do you want some tea? Maybe a blanket?” The woman begins to fuss with her eyebrows drawn tight in concern. Izuku tries to say no but one of her hands reaches out to wrap around his wrist.
“That’s really okay, ma’am! I just need to find my friend!” Izuku manages to stutter out a protest through chattering teeth but the effect seems lost on the woman who seems intent on dragging him into her apartment for a cup of tea. While it does sound nice, Izuku just wants Todoroki. It’s who he always wants.
Izuku is starting to think that all hope is lost and he just has to submit to the old woman in front of him when a voice cuts through her fussing. “Midoriya?” That voice always managed to make his stomach erupt in butterflies and calm him down at the same time. Izuku looks over at Todoroki who is standing in the hallway with a confused look on his face. Then he sees who is latched to Izuku’s arm and what Izuku’s learned is a look of understanding unfolds over his friend’s features. “Kasumi, it’s alright. He is my friend.”
The woman practically beams in delight. “Oh, Todoroki!” To Izuku she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re Todoroki’s friend?”
Izuku chuckled and slowly removed his wrist from her grip. “I-I don’t know.”
“You didn’t give him much of a chance,” Todoroki says in that adorably blunt way of his. The woman seems to have caught on to Todoroki’s way of speaking because she doesn’t seem offended by it. Instead, she simply nods her head and sighs.
“Your friend here is always telling me that I talk to strangers too much.”
“You do.”
“If I didn’t talk to strangers, how would I ever make any friends?” She retorts and Izuku glances over to see the cute pout that Todoroki sports.
“You could end up getting hurt that way,” Todoroki states and Izuku’s heart thumps. Kasumi shakes her head but there is a fond smile on her face. This relationship seems so natural for having only been a few months in the making. Years ago, it would have been impossible for Todoroki to make such a relationship in such a short period of time. The amount of growth his friend had gone through since leaning his family’s home has been amazing. The thought of it makes a warm feeling blossom in his chest and that feeling only reminds Izuku that he’s dripping wet and impossibly cold. This feeling is only intensified when he takes a step back and his shoes squish unpleasantly.
“Midoriya, you’re all wet,” Todoroki states, scanning Midoriya up and down. He burns under the stare and chuckles again to cover up the nerves he’s feeling.
“It's raining outside Todoroki.” Todoroki turns his head to the wall as if he could see through the wall and look at the fat raindrops drumming a steady beat outside. Todoroki looks back to him and Izuku feels the sudden urge to explain. “My bus broke down about three blocks back and it was going to take almost an hour for another bus to come and pick us up. Then, I remembered that you lived close by because I recognized the route from when Iida, Uraraka and I came to your housewarming party and I thought I would try and find your apartment because it was better than being stuck in a bus in a rain. I’m now realizing that this probably wasn’t the best plan and I should probably just try and catch an Uber-”
“No.”
One word is all it takes to cut off his ramblings. “What?”
Todoroki clears his throat, hands low in the pockets of his sweatpants. They hang dangerously low on his hips and Izuku has to snap his eyes back to Todoroki’s before his thoughts wander too far from the proper path. “No, don’t catch an Uber. There probably isn’t one out there anyway.”
“Oh, uh… you’re right. There probably isn’t.” Izuku turns to the woman who has a small yet coy smile on her lips. Izuku can’t place the cause of it but before he can question it further, the smile shifts into something wider and more friendly.
She pats his arm in a friendly way. “I don’t mean to keep you from your friend. Thank you for being kind. Most people wouldn’t humor an old woman like me.”
Izuku shakes his hands wildly saying, “No, no, no! I’m sure that isn’t true!” The old woman smile becomes softer and something reminiscent of his mother’s smile and it sends a pang straight into Izuku’s heart.
She turns to Todoroki and sends a wink his way. “You’d do well to hold on to this one.” Her gaze falls once more on Izuku as she says, “I have a feeling we will be seeing more of each other. Make sure to get out of those wet clothes before you catch something.” Izuku nods, her words maternal and caring and they make him feel light in a way reminiscent of how he feels when Todoroki’s fingers accidentally catch on his. “Good night, Midoriya.”
“Good night,” is all the reply he’s able to say before the door is shut in his face and Midoriya is left in the hallway in his squishy tennis shoes and Shoto Todoroki. Shyly, Izuku looks over to Todoroki who is considering him with those mismatched eyes and Izuku feels very, very small. “I’m sorry about this.” He grins shyly and tries not to wince at the feeling of wet fabric sliding uncomfortably against his skin. The chattering in his teeth has lessened but is still present enough to fill the hallway with a gentle noise.
Todoroki simply fixes him with a look that tells him to not be stupid and not apologize. “Come on. You’re going to catch a cold.” Todoroki turns on his heel and that’s all the signal Izuku needs to know to follow him. Izuku learns that Todoroki’s apartment is number 305.
Entering the apartment, Izuku doesn’t really know what to expect. The more rational side of him expects nothing above a functional apartment with little to no decoration. Todoroki has never been one for the material aspects of life despite coming from an insanely rich family. Maybe- probably- that’s the reason why he has such an aversion to things like throw blankets and decorative wall art. His imaginative side starts to run wild though as he imagines Todoroki’s apartment is an aesthetic wonderland with purposefully placed decorative pillows and containers resting on a kitchen shelf that are strictly for looking at. It turns out, the apartment falls somewhere in between.
The first thing Izuku notices are the shelves lining either side of the T.V. with picture frames balanced delicately on most of them. He wants to rush over there to inspect what they are but forces himself to stay where he is by the doorway. His shoes track water into the small entryway and he doesn’t want to make small puddles in his friend’s new apartment. Around him, the kitchen, living room, and dining room are all conjoined together in an open floor plan. Very little color pops out at him and Izuku isn’t surprised Todoroki exists in a greyscale world. The couch is a deep grey and the rug beneath it is a patterned thing of black and specks of grey.
A light granite countertop is installed in the kitchen and the black cabinets somehow make the room seem much larger instead of smaller. Izuku had always loved the concept of color and thoroughly believed that it made the world bright and bold and interesting to live in but standing in this kitchen made Izuku revisit the idea of blacks and whites and grays. How beauty can be found within anything. How blacks and whites and greys are still colors and there is beauty amongst them that Izuku had apparently been denying himself from tapping into.
“I can get you some dry clothes.”
Oh my god, I want to die.
“Wh-what?” His stuttering has nothing to do with the chill that seems permanently set in his bones. Oh my God, does Todoroki want him to wear his clothes? Izuzku tried to imagine what it would be like to wear clothes that were a little too long in the legs and a little too broad in the shoulders. He would be fully surrounded by the scent he had gotten used to; it is something smokey mixed with the clean scent of laundry detergent and probably patchouli.
“Your clothes are all wet and I figured you would like something dry to wear,” Todoroki says this as if it was the most logical, most plain explanation in the whole world and Izuku has the harsh realization that to him, it is. Todoroki isn’t reading into his words the way Izuku is. He has no reason too because these feelings are only one-sided and clothes were just clothes,
“Oh, thank you. That would be very nice.”
Todoroki nods. “You can take your shoes off. You do not have to stand in the doorway.”
Izuku blushes and grins sheepishly. “I don’t want to get water everywhere.”
“It’s just water.” And Izuku supposes he’s right. It is just water. So with cautious motions, Izuku slides his feet out of his sneakers and peels his wet socks off his feet before stuffing them into his shoes. His eyes hyper-focus on the small puddles of water that form from the drops that slide off his jacket but he forces himself to shove the anxiety away. Todoroki glances over him once more before heading down a hallway and presumably towards his bedroom to get Izuku some clothes. His friend’s dual-colored hair disappears and suddenly, Izuku Midoriya is standing in a world he does not belong in a world of blacks and whites and greys.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Shoto Todoroki thought he was prepared for anything. Jumper cables and water bottles were stashed in the trunk of his car and if the glove compartment was opened, there would be a first aid kit. He knows what to do if he is being mugged and what to do if someone has a knife pressed against his throat. Shoto knows how to judo-flip someone over his shoulder and disarm them until someone with more authority than him can take over the situation.
Shoto knows how to handle the burning feelings he gets in his stomach every time he sees his best friend. Shoto knows how to push aside every thought that flutters through his head because Izuku Midoriya deserves so much more than him. The years of feelings that will never be felt back have made Shoto very good at pushing past them so he doesn’t combust on the spot when Midoriya laughs and it sounds like angels are singing. Shoto is very good at not reading into the soft smiles Midoriya would send his way sometimes because there is no way a look like that is meant for him.
Shoto thought he was prepared for anything. What he is not prepared for, it turns out, is Izuku Midoriya standing in the hallway of his apartment building in a soaking wet t-shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination with an adorably flustered look on his face that knocks all the air out of his chest. What he is not prepared for is the wink his neighbor sends his way and the knowledge that the old woman would be berating Shoto about his friend for ages. What he is not prepared for is the knowledge that his hands are currently scrambling through his drawers for clothes that are small enough to not drop off his shoulders and show so much more skin than Shoto was prepared to handle.
It seems that when it comes to Midoriya, Shoto can never be fully be prepared. He can never be fully prepared for the bold color and burning life Midoriya brings into his world. He can never be prepared for the warm brushes of hands and Midoriya’s head on his shoulder. Izuku Midoriya seems intent on challenging everything he thought he knew about himself and the only thing that Shoto can do is face his friend’s challenges head-on. So, he takes a deep breath and pulls out a black shirt and a pair of red sweatpants that he’d accidentally ordered in a size too small and had forgotten to return.
On his way back to the living room, Shoto pulls a spare towel from the linen closet. He takes a moment as he slowly shuts the closet door to mentally prepare himself before facing his friend again. What Shoto did to deserve a dripping man with strong arms, a toned chest, and a splatter of freckles that reminded him of the night sky in his living room that Shoto wasn’t allowed- couldn’t- touch, he’ll never know.
Midoriya is standing in front of the shelves by the T.V. with one of the picture frames clutched tight in his hands. Shoto knows it well. He approaches Midoriya slowly, clothes tucked up under his arm. “That day feels like forever ago.” At his voice, Midoriya jumps. Shoto feels bad at first but that’s washed away when Midoriya turns to him with a breathless laugh and soft grin.
“Jesus,” he breathes and Shoto’s mind unhelpfully supplies a variety of different scenarios where Shoto could get Midoriya to sound just like that. “Yeah. It also feels like just yesterday,” he says and Shoto feels himself melt at the softness in his voice.
Trapped beneath the glass in a simple black frame is a picture of Shoto and Midoriya at graduation. Midoriya’s mom had insisted on the picture and Shoto can vividly remember the wide eyes and embarrassed look Midoriya fixed him with that day. “Do you mind? I’m sorry, she just won’t let it go until she has at least one picture.” How could Shoto when Midoriya was looking at him like that? With eyes that wide and a smile that shy, Shoto would probably do anything Midoriya asked of him. So, they had taken the picture and Shoto had quietly asked Midoriya to send it to him. The bright smile that followed his request is tattooed onto his memory.
“We’ve come a long way since then, huh Todoroki?” They had. Shoto could see the growth in himself whenever he looked in the mirror. Beyond the physical- that hadn’t changed since high school because his workout routine was ingrained into his very being- Shoto stood more openly. The times where his arms were crossed against his chest were much less compared to his high school days. Whenever he managed to hold a conversation with someone new for longer than two sentences, it only added to the list of things Shoto should be proud of himself for. It is hard for him to be proud of something he’s accomplished but he’s getting there. Every day makes it easier to accept that the unreachable standards his father has for him aren’t the bar. The bar is being happy. He knows he won’t ever be able to reach that bar while Midoriya gets flirty looks from guys and girls alike when they go out to lunch that Midoriya returns with an oblivious smile but, it’s a start.
“Yeah. We have,” he agrees then thrusts the clothes out towards his friend. Midoriya looks at them with a confused expression then accepts them gratefully after putting the picture back onto the shelf. “You can change in my room or the bathroom. They’re down the hall. Just leave the clothes on the floor and I’ll stick them in the dryer later,” Shoto points down the way he just came from and Midoriya thanks him and his heart stops for just a second.
Fuck you, feelings.
Shoto takes another picture off the shelf. It’s one of him and his mother. She’s sitting on her hospital bed and he’s perched next to her. To a stranger, Shoto would look neutral and uncaring and for a time, that’s all he saw in his own features. Now though, he is starting to see the love and affection he has for his mother in the soft lines of his face.
He has no doubt that he can recognize these expressions because Midoriya showed him that he is capable of them. He is sure that the love and affection he feels is clear on his face to everyone except the one person he longs to see it. If he doesn’t see it though, it must be because he doesn’t want to and while that thought crushes his heart into a million pieces, he will be okay with it. One day.
Stop lying to yourself.
The thought is quick and intrusive and startles Shoto so much that he drops the frame. Shoto could live with these feelings because he lies to himself. He cloaks himself in the charade that he would be okay when Midoriya finally found someone worthy of his light. There’s a sense of security in the way he avoids his friend’s questions about his love life. Shoto has perfected the art of lying to himself and has never once questioned it until now.
He bends down to pick up some of the larger pieces of glass and hisses at the sharp sting of a cut. The piece of glass tumbles back onto the floor as Shoto inspects the cut. It isn’t deep and will be okay with a Band-Aid. Abandoning the pieces of glass on the floor, Shoto stands to rinse the cut off in his kitchen sink. He wraps a paper towel around his thumb and heads to his closet to grab a Band-Aid. As he closes the door, Band-Aid in hand, the bathroom door opens and Midoriya is stepping out.
Fuck. This was a bad idea.
Midoriya’s shoulders have filled out since they graduated. This isn’t news to Shoto. Midoriya had started going to the gym their last year of high school and had kept up with the routine. Uraraka refused to stop sending him sly looks that time Uraraka, Iida, and Midoriya had dragged him down to the beach. Shoto refused to go because he would burn. Shoto refused to go because he would see Midoriya shirtless and most likely die on the spot but he kept this reason to himself. He had been right of course and as much as it made his cheeks burn and stomach wind in knots, he couldn’t keep his eyes from dragging over Midoriya’s toned chest and defined arms in what he thought was a subtle way.
The beach is one thing but having his crush stand in front of him wearing his clothes is another thing entirely. Shoto could never look as good in that shirt as Midoriya did, he was sure of it. Maybe it is fated that he kept those pants because they looked so right on him. Every angle is followed, every curve hugged and Shoto wants to die. No, he wants to pull Midoriya close and never let go.
But he can’t. Even when he catches Midoriya’s wide, sparkling eyes and neither of them say anything. Even when Midoriya is impossibly close and he really doesn’t remember his bathroom and his closet being so close to one another.
So, he takes a step back and convinces himself that Midoriya’s expression only drops in his imagination. Instead of laying his heart out like he wants to, Shoto asks if Midoriya is hungry because he isn’t allowed to want. He can’t want.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble!” Midoriya protests and Shoto expects nothing else to come out of his mouth.
“You’re not.”
You could never cause me any trouble.
“Wait, is your thumb okay?” Shoto looks down at Midoriya’s concerned face and realizes that he’s forgotten why he is in the linen closet at all.
“I dropped a picture frame and cut my finger.”
Midoriya purses his lips and Shoto wants to kiss him so badly. “That’s not like you.” Shoto hasn’t put that much thought into it but of course, Midoriya knows him better than he knows himself. “Do you need help with that?” Green eyes are trained on the Band-Aid gripped awkwardly between his cut-free fingers.
No.
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not.” Midoriya takes the Band-Aid from him carefully and Shoto removes the stained paper towel from his thumb. Midoriya hums disapprovingly at the sight of the cut and Shoto has to stop the shiver that threatens down his spine at the soft touch of Midoriya’s breath on his sensitive skin. With surgeon-like precision, Midoriya places the Band-Aid over his cut and the action feels oddly intimate. One step closer and Shoto could wrap his arms around Midoriya.
What if you did? What’s the worst that could happen? Midoriya wouldn’t stop talking to you. He’s too nice for-
His unwelcome thoughts are cut off by the soft pressing against his thumb. When Midoriya looks up at Shoto, he isn’t imagining the bright red stain across the other man’s cheeks or the uncertain look in his green eyes. “There,” he whispers soft and only for Shoto. Shoto’s brain has chosen this moment to stop working properly and none of the sounds he wants to make come out of his mouth. He stands still, the feeling of Midoriya's kiss burning into his thumb. The only things that are working are his eyes and his ears as he watches the insecurity grow in Midoriya’s face and hears the rambling he’s come to adore so much fill his ears.
Move.
Say something.
Say anything.
“Dinner?”
Anything but that.
Whatever Midoriya had been saying is cut off by Shoto’s attempt at a question. He looks equal parts relieved and distraught almost but nods his head anyway.
“Let me clean up the glass and then I’ll start dinner,” Shoto says, grabbing the broom and dustpan before heading back into the living room.
“I can make dinner. I don’t-”
“No.” With almost anyone else, Shoto would worry he is coming off as rude but he knows Midoriya won’t see him in that light. Midoriya has always known him impossibly well, even at the beginning of their friendship, and can see past the appearance of rudeness his bluntness tends to give him.
“Then at least let me help you clean up.” Shoto sighs, turning to look at his friend. He wants to fight him but how can he protest when Midoriya has that determined look in his eye and a stubborn pout that makes Shoto feel all kinds of things. Midoriya knows the exact moment he caves and smiles, heading into the kitchen for something. He makes quick work of sweeping the glass into the pan but frowns at the smaller flecks of glass he can see when he turns his head a certain way. Green fills his vision the way it so often does and Shoto looks down to see a damp paper towel in his friend’s hand. The smaller pieces get folded into the damp paper towel and Shoto thinks, not for the first time, that Midoriya completes him.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” Another blinding smile is thrown his way and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. It’s unassuming and completely unintentional, the way Midoriya steals the breath from his lungs but with every focused look of concentration or belly-aching laugh Shoto is witness too, he’s struck with the undeniable thought that Izuku Midoriya is the most beautiful person on Earth.
The dustpan is emptied and clicked back onto the broom before being safely stashed away in the closet. At the sight of Midoriya in his kitchen, Shoto shoots him a look. “I want to help,” he protests but even to Shoto’s ears, it’s weak sounding.
Shoto places a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder and tries to ignore the pleasant warmth he can feel through the thin t-shirt material. “It’s okay. You look like you’re about to fall asleep where you’re standing.” He hadn’t noticed before but now the bags under his friend’s eyes were clear. Exhaustion had seeped into his bones, causing his shoulders to hunch forward in a way that reminds him of when Midoriya would pull all-nighters during high school. “Are you okay? And don’t bullshit me,” Shoto adds at the fake grin that starts to make its way onto his face.
Midoriya huffs and slowly sinks into one of the barstools that sit behind one of the few walls in the space. Some of Shoto’s mail has found its way onto the countertop and he quickly moves it out of the way. There’s a bill in here he needs to pay, he remembers. “I’ve been… better,” Midoriya eventually says. There’s a heaviness in his words that makes Shoto’s heartache. “It’s just with work and college, it’s been kind of hard to balance everything but I’ll be okay.” The optimism is palpable and Shoto smiles at the consistent resilience his friend displays. Whenever anything goes wrong, even with shaking hands and tears running down his face, Midoriya will insist that he is okay and that everything will be fine.
“It’s okay to not be okay,” Shoto says, pulling out ingredients for a simple dinner. “You’re the one who taught me that,” he says, looking back over his shoulder. Midoriya’s eyes are impossibly wide and he can see the tears watering in his eyes. The panic sets in immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
Midoriya chuckles wetly and shakes his head. His fingers wipe under his eyes. “You didn’t. It’s just nice to hear. You can say it all you want for others but hearing it said to you is something very different.” Shoto hums in agreement. “Thank you, Todoroki.”
He shrugs. “I’m only telling you what you’ve told me so many times. Midoriya, you take on so many problems that aren’t your own. You should be able to let yourself feel bad. You don’t need to put on an act,” he says and sets down the vegetables he had pulled from the fridge. He turns to look his friend square in the eye. “Especially not here, not with me.” He feels everything bubbling up inside him, threatening to bubble over. If he isn’t careful, there’ll be an explosion he can’t control. A thin veil has fallen over the kitchen and seems to distort the world into hazy colors of greys and blacks and whites and greens.
“Todoroki.” His name is a whisper, a prayer almost, on Midoriya’s tongue and for a moment, he forgets that there is anything else between them. The word comes across too reverent, too praising for its subject matter. He doesn’t deserve the way Midoriya says his name. But he wants, wants, wants. He can’t want- he shouldn’t want- but he does and he’s trying everything in him to keep himself back even with the way the world has twisted so the only thing he sees is Midoriya. A sob cuts through the soft light and reality hit him full on.
He’s moving in an instant, food abandoned behind him and his hands find Midoriya’s shoulders like they’re meant to be there. Tears are pouring down his face, the green in his is made all the more bright by the red tinge to them. “Midoriya, I-” Then those shoulders are pulling away from him and Shoto’s heart shatters.
“I-I’m sorry, Todoroki! I shouldn’t be acting like this,” he sobs.
“I don’t understand, please tell me what’s wrong.” Shoto has seen Midoriya cry a hundred times before but this feels different. This feels like it is Shoto’s fault.
“I can’t. I couldn’t. This was a mistake, I’m sorry.” Then, in a flash of green and the slam of a door, Todoroki is plunged back into his monotone world with an empty barstool and a shattered heart.
______________________________________________________
Izuku is tearing down Todoroki’s hallway, shoes and socks clutched in his hands. He thought he would be okay. He thought he could be in Todoroki’s world and not succumb to the feelings building in his heart with every second he spends in the other man’s presence. Midoriya slams on the button for the elevator and hopes for a fleeting moment that Todoroki is going to open his door and call out for him. But it doesn’t happen and Izuku sinks to the floor of the elevator to pull on his wet socks. He hadn’t been there long enough for them to become anything close to dry but he had been in that apartment long enough to know that he would never fit in that world.
Todoroki is too good for him. He deserves someone of the same caliber as him; someone who lives amongst the shiny things and simple elegance like Todoroki does. Izuku has always known that he wouldn’t be enough but seeing that apartment without an alcoholic haze around him and the security of their friends, Izuku is forced to face reality. Izuku could never be what he deserves. It can never work.
As the doors open, Izuku remembers that it is still storming outside and it seems to have gotten worse. There is no way he can go out into that weather but there is no way he can stay. He doesn’t have his jacket; it’s still balled up on the floor of Todoroki’s bathroom like a heathen.
Todoroki’s scent overwhelms him from the soft shirt he wears. It’s patchouli and sandalwood and everything he thought it may be and more. It’s safe and comforting and too much. Izuku stares out the glass windows, contemplating the rain. He doesn’t want to ruin this shirt but, he shouldn’t have it in the first place. It should be someone else- someone better who isn’t a crybaby, who doesn’t mumble, who doesn’t get so focused on work he forgets to sleep and eat.
He is slowly making up his mind to brave the storm to find some way of getting home when he hears the small chime of the elevator arriving on this floor.
Maybe it will be someone else.
But it never is. It never has been anyone else.
Izuku feels Todoroki before he sees him and can’t bring himself to turn around and see that beautiful face marred in subtle confusion.
“Midoriya.” Izuku’s heart clenches at the same soft tone as before. The memory of Todoroki leaning against the counter, shirt raised to expose that pale, toned skin, and those kind words. Izuku’s mind seems intent on replaying how genuine Todoroki sounds when he tells him he doesn’t have to pretend with him. The act of bravery and facing his fears has become a second skin to him and sometimes he forgets who he is without it. Sure, the subtle signs come out in shaking hands and tense shoulders but no one ever notices the real turmoil beneath. No one except Todoroki.
“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes out, throat thick with unshed tears. He doesn’t know how else to show how sorry he is he ever let himself think there could be more here. He doesn’t know how else to tell Todoroki that he wants what he can’t have and that reality is shattering around him. He doesn’t know why his feelings are choosing this very moment to explode from deep within him but he does know that they are and Izuku is unable to handle them well. It’s as if everything is changing right before him and any grip he had on normality is slipping through his fingers
“Midoriya,” he repeats with a stronger voice. It’s strong enough to get him to turn around. Todoroki looks concerned and almost distraught and Izuku’s heart clenches at the thought that he caused him any pain. He’s been very good at keeping his emotions down so he doesn’t ruin things but now everything is bubbling and frothing and each moment feels like a hundred times more than it really is. His heart is beating quick and his breathing is even shorter until Todoroki steps closer into his space and it stops completely. “What’s wrong?” He murmurs, chills racing down Izuku’s spine. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” He protests quickly- too quickly. “I don’t think you could ever do something wrong, Todoroki,” Izuku says shyly, cheeks burning under the tracks of his tears. He isn’t surprised to realize the tears have slowed to almost nothing now that Todoroki is here. It’s a secret skill the other man probably didn’t realize he had; he was always able to calm Izuku down.
Todoroki scoffs out a self-deprecating laugh Izuku is unfortunately familiar with. “That’s not true. I’ve done plenty wrong.” The words are dark and heavy and Izuku instinctively reaches out to cup Todoroki’s cheek. His body is stiff with fear but he can’t remove his hand even if he wanted to and he doesn’t. Izuku waits with baited breath as Todoroki stiffens under his touch and it feels like an impossibly long moment before Todoroki relaxes into the touch and Izuku melts with him. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Izuku has to strain to hear the quiet, shy words but he does and he flushes at the sound of them.
“You could never hurt me.”
“But I have,” Todoroki sighs as one of his thumbs catches a stray tear that fell rebelliously from Izuku’s eyelashes. “Please tell me what I did.”
It’s these words that pull Izuku’s hand from the comforting weight of Todorki’s cheek and forces his back against the glass door covered in condensation. The sound of rain had faded with Todoroki’s arrival but now it rushes back into his ears with full force and he loses himself in it for a moment. It’s a welcomed break for the onslaught of thoughts and wants and self-doubt beating down on his mind. “You didn’t do anything. I promise,” Izuku whispers with eyes closed shut against the image of dual-colored hair and mismatched eyes that pierce him straight to the soul. “It’s me. I’m being stupid; I’m being dumb.”
“Whatever is going on is clearly upsetting and that means it isn’t dumb or stupid. I want to help.” A soft pressure is pressed against his cheek. “Midoriya please look at me.” His breath is hot on Izuku’s face and his body responds of its own will to Todoroki’s request. Those grey and blue eyes are bright and shining and Izuku wants to fall into them forever. He could color endless skies and snowy days with the colors he finds in those eyes. “Please let me help.”
It’s a desperate phrase. Izuku hears the slight plea in them and whatever mental fortitude he had against his feelings breaks. Todoroki is so close and his words hit something raw and vulnerable within him so he finds himself whispering two words he never thought he’d say to this man before.
“Kiss me.”
The moment where Todoroki’s eyes widen is fleeting before he swoops down and presses soft and gentle against Izuku. The kiss is and isn’t how he expects and better than anything he'd imagined. Soft pulls and pushes and featherlight touches of fingers to forearms. It’s delicate pinks and hazy blues and Izuku tastes mint and coffee on Todoroki’s tongue. It isn’t fireworks and explosions of passions. They aren’t that. Izuku and Todoroki are lazy Sundays before an intense work week. They are warm and barely-there rays of gold that filter in through windows that gently wake someone up. They are the greys and blues of the calm before the storm.
They are everything and so much more.
Air is a distant but necessary thought and when Izuku pulls apart to take an unwelcome breath, his hands wrap tightly in the fabric of Todoroki’s shirt. Emotions and words unsaid are pounding in his brain but the kiss has lessened them so. It’s as if he’s free falling but knows his parachute is there behind him. Kissing Shoto Todoroki is taking risks and giving in to all the things he doesn’t think he should have and all the things he wants.
Insecurities and doubts rush in along with the air he breathes. “I’m sorry.”
Todoroki sighs but now, Izuku hears something soft and playful in it. “What are you sorry for?”
“I asked you to kiss me.” Izuku looks up at Todoroki with wide eyes and suddenly doubts every decision he has made this hour. “I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. You didn’t have too. I don’t want you to feel like I forced you to kiss me or-” His words are cut short by a gentle kiss to his forehead.
“Oh, Midoriya.” Todoroki tilts his chin up with two fingers, forcing him to maintain eye contact. “You have never forced me to do anything. Well, except for ice skating that one time.”
“Which you were amazing at,” Izuku grumbles unhappily. Ashido had invited class 1-A to go ice skating the winter break of their third year. Todoroki had told Izuku he had never skated before and therefore, wasn’t planning on hanging out with them all. Izuku did not accept this and dragged a very reluctant Todoroki to the ice rink a couple days before with promises of hot coffee and fresh pastries afterward. When Todoroki proved to be a natural on skates, Izuku wasn’t all that surprised. There didn’t seem to be anything that Todoroki couldn’t do once he set his mind to it.
Todoroki huffs but Izuku sees the ghost of a smile that sets his heart fluttering. “I have wanted to kiss you for a very long time now.” A blush blooms almost instantaneously over his face. He’s as blunt as ever. But the slight tinge of pink on Todoroki’s cheeks isn’t lost to Izuku. “Please don’t think I would ever feel forced to kiss you if you asked.” Todoroki sighs, deep and contemplative before he adds, “I feel like there are very few things you would have to force me to do if you asked.”
It warms him from the inside out and his socks don’t feel so damp now. He wants to simultaneously spontaneously combust and wrap Todoroki up in his arms just to make sure that this is real so he opts for the latter. Todoroki is firm and warm under his embrace and very, very real. “Am I dreaming?” He mumbles against Todoroki’s shirt and feels his chuckle reverberate through his chest.
“Then we must be having the same dream,” Todoroki’s cheek comes to rest on Izuku’s head and for a moment they simply exist. There are so many words between them but for what feels like the first time in his life, Izuku feels no desire to let them all escape his head. He is content to simply be wrapped in a pair of strong arms with a stable chest underneath his head and breathe. Finally, he’s able to release the breath that’s always caught in his throat when he’s around Todoroki. Izuku can sink comfortably into the knowledge that he isn’t making this up.
Doubts and insecurities poke and prod in the deep corners of his mind but it’s as if Todoroki knows he’s slipping into a darker place because he squeezes him tighter and presses a chaste kiss to the top of his head. Top-of-the-head kisses are extremely underrated, he decides. He’s never had one before now but he could have a hundred and still ask for more. Todoroki could kiss him a million times and he knows he’d still be starving for me.
Izuku pulls his head away and looks shyly up at Todoroki. Izuku sees that Todoroki knows the question that’s on his lips but is stubborn and refuses to indulge him. So, Izuku takes a deep breath and asks, “Kiss me?”
With a smile that’s as bright as sunlight refracting on freshly fallen snow, Todoroki complies and Izuku falls, falls, falls.