Work Text:
Midoriya has a very important test coming up. Shoto knows this because he had gotten at least 12 texts a day about how important it is and how concerned Midoriya is about failing. Every time he receives one of those insecure, self-doubting texts, he sighs. Midoriya, next to himself and regrettably Bakugou, is the smartest person he knows. He lives and breathes being a paramedic. He thrives off the anatomy and biology and sings the Bone Song in the shower with complete accuracy. Shoto has never known anyone else to know what exactly the foot bone is connected to.
Shoto also knows that Midoriya has been studying his ass off for the past few days studying for this exam. It’s his last exam before midterms so the pressure to do well to supplement his grade is through the roof. If Midoriya is behaving anything close to how he was during finals last year than Shoto is deeply worried. Midoriya is so good at taking care of other people that he often disregards his own well-being. Shoto would have been less worried about his friend had he been answering his texts but their text thread is concerningly one-sided so now, he is on a hunt to find Midoriya.
It’s not much of a hunt as Shoto knows exactly where Midoriya is. They’d been friends for a few months when Midoriya brought Shoto to what he called his “secret spot.” Said spot is a seemingly forgotten about room on the top floor of the library that is just small enough to dissuade any big groups from using it but big enough for one or two people to spread out and do their work. Apparently, Shoto is the only person Midoriya has shown this spot too and hearing that made his chest feel tight and face flush.
When they worked in the room, their shoulders, thighs, or both would be pushed together and Shoto would blame the close proximity simply on the lack of space and not his desire to feel the strong muscle in Midoriya’s thigh or the pleasant heat that came from his touch. They’d stay in that classroom with coffee cups and half-dead pens surrounding them until the warm rays of sunset filtered in through the one window. Most of the time, their work would continue in one of their dorm rooms until they both passed out at some point late into the night. Shoto had a spare shirt in Midoriya’s room and Midoriya had one in Shoto’s for those mornings after where neither one of them wanted to look like they were doing a walk of shame, not that Shoto would have particularly minded.
The path to the library from his room is second nature by now. He circumvents groups of people with shoulders pressed together in close conversation and slips around loners with eyes focused on their phones so they don’t see him coming. The campus is large and the buildings that line the pathways loom over him but Shoto doesn’t feel small. He knows that feeling well; up until graduation, he felt like a lesser being. His father’s presence was overbearing and intimidating and one step out of line ended with someone getting hurt; when his father was feeling kind, Shoto would be the one in pain but when Enji Todoroki really wanted to make his son suffer, he’d turn his sights to his wife or daughter. Someone’s shoulder hits him and he snaps out of his reverie with a quick apology.
Shoto takes the concrete steps up to the library quickly and opens up the heavy wooden door. There were three libraries on campus; their room is in the oldest one that stores the oldest novels on campus. In this building are the first edition novels and earliest campus records. The extent of technological advancements in the library is working wifi and a computer to check out books. Other libraries have SmartBoards and projectors and spaces to rent video equipment but this one simply has the smell of books and a communal Sharpie you can get from the librarian if you ask nicely enough.
The librarian at the desk knows Shoto’s face. He sees the recognition in the small smile she gives him and the amusement in her eyes. “Are you going to get Midoriya?” She asks, causing Shoto to pause by her. He unconsciously runs his thumb along the cracks in the varnish as he gives her a confused look.
“Should I be?”
The librarian hums, nodding her head and Shoto huffs out an almost annoyed breath. Unfortunately, Midoriya is very good at hiding his emotions from most people. Friends and strangers and older librarians aren’t normally able to see through the careful mask Midoriya like to wear to keep people from worrying about him. He has it in his head that he has to be strong for everyone else and his own torment gets hidden behind watery eyes and is shown through the shaking of his limbs. Most people are blinded by the light in his smile to see the true extent of whatever Midoriya may be going through.
Shoto though has always been able to see through Midoriya’s bullshit. It seems as though as his affection has grown stronger, so has his ability to see through his carefully woven web of “I’m okay” and “Don’t worry about me.” Shoto can see the problems lying behind his wobbly grin and hears the forced excitement in his words. When they first became friends, Shoto was worried about overstepping his boundaries. He didn’t want to push Midoriya in case he broke but now Shoto knows he’s stronger than that. Sometimes, Midoriya needs a push to truly be okay and happy and as that’s all Shoto wants for the man, Shoto is willing and ready to push with all he has.
“I feel like I should give him a job, he’s here so often. I don’t open up in the mornings but those who do say he’s been sitting outside studying for the past three days. I don’t think he’s eating enough and he is most definitely not getting enough sleep,” the librarian explains and Shoto nods grimly. He knows the behavior well and he’s had to save Midoriya from himself multiple times by now.
“Thank you,” he says and she waves a dismissive hand.
“There’s no need for that. He’s a good kid and he’s lucky to have you.”
Shoto hums but doesn’t openly disagree. He knows he’s the lucky one to have Midoriya in his life. He’s been forever changed by constellations of freckles and seemingly endless strength. He bids her farewell and heads off through the stacks to the staircase that’s tucked away in the back corner of the library. Some people he vaguely recognizes wave at him and he nods back, walking quicker so they don’t try to stop him in conversation. Shoto is on a mission; the man he adores is being a fucking idiot and he has to stop him. He walks purposefully up the stairs, stepping over the sixth step that lets out an irritating squeak with the lightest tap of pressure. Pale fingers graze gently over the rough wood of the railing as he walks. The feeling keeps him grounded and his fingers search for it when he has to walk to the next flight of stairs.
Shoto makes quick work of the stairs. Shoto has never been one for team sports but he has always cared about his physical health. It’s a habit left over from his father’s insistence that he be the best in all things to usurp his rival when Shoto finally took over the family business. In Enji’s insistence that he get up hours earlier than normal to train, Shoto found a sense of freedom. He pounded out his frustrations into punching backs and used the anger constantly coursing through him to push him through his runs. Five flights of stairs are nothing compared to the miles and miles he’s run in his life.
With each floor, the noise level has lessened. Compared to the first floor, the fifth one is deafeningly silent. Every step he takes seems to thunder in the quiet and it reminds him violently of nights in his house when his father would walk through their house. He shakes off the memory and lets his feet carry him to the room.
His eyes catch on titles that are only familiar because they never move. The fifth floor holds large encyclopedias and old school records that are supposed to be shredded. Dust lays over the books and boxes in a perfect layer and had it not been for him, Midoriya, and the occasional student that comes up here to seek refuge, he is sure the floor would be coated in dust as well.
The door to their room is firmly closed but Shoto has no hesitation in pushing it open without ceremony. He steps in and isn’t met by a green stare. Midoriya is staring so intently at the notebook in front of him that Shoto is worried his friend is going to set his notes on fire. Earbuds are shoved into his ears and the drumming of Midoriya’s fingers to the beat makes Shoto smile. At least he’s kind of enjoying himself. Shoto walks over to the table and knocks his knuckles on it gently. Ever observant, Midoriya notices the action and finally, Shoto sees those large eyes look at him.
“Todoroki,” Midoriya says with an almost breathless voice that makes Shoto’s insides squirm. Light filters in through the window, casting his green hair in an even greener halo. There’s a deep set tiredness in his eyes- the bags under his eyes are almost purple bruises- but even still they seem to sparkle with life. “Good morning.”
That catches him off guard. “Midoriya, it’s almost 1 p.m.”
Midoriya’s eyes widen, blinking in confusion. He turns his head to look out the window and hums. “Oh.”
Shoto huffs, sinking into the chair opposite Midoriya. It’s a familiar seat that offers a familiar and most welcome view. From here, he could look up at Midoriya from his notes or sneak glances over the top of his laptop screen. In this chair, he’s fallen deeper and deeper for his friend. With every laugh that fills the room to capacity and a shy smile that makes Shoto burn like the sun, Shoto’s feelings have grown and it’s all thanks to this room and this chair. Now though, Shoto wishes that Midoriya isn’t sitting across from him and is instead in his room sleeping.
Shoto glances around the room and counts a worrying amount of coffee cups and energy drinks, probably all empty. The air in here is stale and smells faintly of Fritos. “Midoriya, when was the last time you slept?”
Midoriya taps his pencil against his lips and Shoto can’t help the way he scans the outline of those lips. His eyes drop down his cupid’s bow and when he bites gently on the pencil, Shoto has to look away and at the various snack bags littering the table that are hopefully an accumulation of a couple days. “Well, let’s see. Today’s Friday-”
“Today is Sunday.”
“What?” Midoriya asks with enough surprise that Shoto’s heart sinks. There isn’t a hint of amusement in those eyes; Shoto isn’t being played. Shoto sighs deeply, head falling back against the top of his chair. “Today is Friday. I’m sure of it.”
“No, today is Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday and you have class,” Shoto says with a fond exasperation. “You need to rest.”
Midoriya shakes his head and Shoto grits his teeth. The stubbornness he knows so well is sinking into Midoriya like a second skin and Shoto isn’t mentally prepared to fight Stubborn Midoriya. “I need to study for my test! It’s tomorrow! How could I have forgotten it’s tomorrow?” Midoriya exclaims, reaching for his pencil but Shoto is faster. His fingers move the pencil with a practiced ease between them and Midoriya glares at him. Any effect the glare may have had is ruined by those deep bags and the fact that Midoriya looks positively adorable with his oversized sweatshirt and splattering of freckles.
“You need to sleep. How are you going to take your test if you haven’t slept in three days?”
Midoriya pouts and Shoto can sense he’s going to win. Midoriya seems too tired to put up a decent argument but Shoto knows he’s still going to try. “It’s only been two days,” he tries and Shoto simply raises a disbelieving eyebrow. “Todoroki, I have to pass.” It’s a silent plea that tugs at Shoto’s heart and he almost gives in. If he cared for Midoriya any less, he probably would have let him stay holed up in this room and reread his textbook for what was probably the 15th time. However, Shoto cares for Midoriya more than almost anyone else- his mother and siblings pull just higher than him- so, he refuses to let Midoriya slide even further down this rabbit hole of tendons and ligaments.
Shoto reaches out a hand, covering the words on the page and forcing Midoriya to look up at him. He thinks he’ll be ready for how pretty those eyes are but, he never is. “You will.”
“How do you know?”
The smile comes easily to him. “Because I know you.” If Shoto were a more confident man where his feelings were concerned, he would have sworn there was a blush on Midoriya’s cheeks. “You’re one of the smartest people I know and if anyone can pass, it’s you. You’re going to overwhelm yourself if you keep going and then when you go to take the test, you’re going to forget everything. Midoriya, you have to let yourself process everything you read.” It’s solid and familiar advice and when Shoto sees the soft smile form on Midoriya’s face, he knows he remembers it too.
Last year, when they had been friends for a few months, they were studying for their joint Biology class. Shoto was running himself into the ground even more than Midoriya; he forgot to eat, slept in short bursts, and felt like he was drowning in organisms and cells. Eventually, Midoriya had to pull him out of his endless cycle of studying. “Take some time, Shoto. How can you expect yourself to know everything when you don’t let yourself have any time to absorb the information?” Shoto had been so stunned at his words that Shoto didn’t fight Midoriya as he slid Shoto’s notebook from his hands. In his family, there was never time to take for yourself. You had to be the best no matter how much sleep you sacrificed or how many friends you didn’t make. Being first in the class was more important than the physical or mental well being. So, being around someone with a different mindset was almost a culture shock.
Looking back, he is so grateful for Midoriya for pulling him out of that vicious mindset. Now, it is his turn to rescue his friend from the familiar need to be the best. Midoriya’s always held himself to a higher standard than most and now it seems that that standard has become impossible to reach and Midoriya is going to kill himself trying to reach it.
Shoto slides the notebook out from under Midoriya’s fingertips and there’s only a minimal protest. “Go back to your dorm room and sleep,” Shoto says. “Please,” he tacks on and he can see Midoriya’s resolve crumbling.
He shakes his head though and Shoto gets prepared to fight. “My roommate is being weird again,” and Shoto winces in sympathy. Midoriya’s roommate, Mineta, is one of the creepiest people Shoto has ever met and he’s told him so. There’s something off-putting about the short man and the way his eyes seem to lock on any poor girl that walks past.
“Alright, then come to sleep in my room.” The words tumble out of Shoto’s mouth faster than he can stop them. There’s no use in regretting them once they’re out there though so, he lets the words hang heavy in the air without a redaction or apology. Midoriya opens his mouth but Shoto cuts him off with one finger. “You won’t be an inconvenience or a bother. I extended the invitation to you. Accept it,” he insists and Midoriya nods, shoulders slumped and all the fight drained out of him. Shoto’s heart flies into his heart at the thought of Midoriya asleep in his bed but he forces it back down and begins to gather Midoriya’s things.
“I can carry those,” Midoriya protests weakly but Shoto simply shakes his head. Huffing, Midoriya resigns himself to cleaning up any trash he had created and when he’s finally done, Shoto can see the exhaustion seeping into his friend’s bones. He moves to stand next to Midoriya to case him in case he falls. The movement doesn’t escape Midoriya’s notice as Shoto sees his eyes flick up and down Shoto’s form but he doesn’t say anything. Together, they walk out of the room and carefully retreat down the flights of stairs.
As they walk back to Shoto’s room, the words Midoriya’s been cramming into his head these past few days seem to fly out without Midoriya’s permission. Shoto listens with a fond smile to the muttering that fills the small space between them and envelopes them in their own little bubble. Vaguely, he is aware that there are other people walking by them but Shoto only has eyes and ears for the man next to him and his low chattering. He walks over cracks and raised points in the sidewalk by what feels like muscle memory as it’s impossible to divert his attention from the possibility that he might have to catch Midoriya. Once, his knees buckle and Shoto shifts the books under one arm to fling out the newly freed one. His fingers wrap tightly around Midoriya’s side and pull him up straight. Midoriya leans against Shoto’s side for a moment and he can’t help but think they fit together like puzzle pieces.
Then they’re walking again and Shoto misses Midoriya’s warmth immediately. They reach Shoto’s dorm without another incident and he quickly swipes his student ID. Midoriya walks through the door and Shoto is by his side in an instant. Midoriya checks in and then they’re in the elevator heading up to Shoto’s room on the third floor of dorms. During the short ride, Midoriya’s cheek finds home resting against Shoto’s shoulder and Shoto’s heart just about stops. He pulls him close with the internal justification that he wants to ensure Midoriya didn’t fall over again. With the lack of protest from his friend, Shoto’s confidence swells just enough to squeeze his waist gently and the hum he gets in response makes his heart flutter.
It’s a few steps to Shoto’s dorm once the elevator opens and Shoto swings them both through his door, shutting it with his foot. Midoriya walks sleepily to the bed and falls clumsily on top of it. Shoto snorts at the crumpled sight and Midoriya whines in protest. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Shoto shoves his friends farther on to the bed to make room for himself. “I thought you weren’t tired.”
Midoriya grumbles, looking up at Shoto before curling tightly in on himself. “‘M not,” he yawns and Shoto laughs before grabbing a blanket that’s folded on the edge of his bed. It was a present from Uraraka for Christmas last year. She thought it was funny, the red and white knit with little snowflakes. He couldn’t complain about her poor sense of humor as it was one of his first times receiving holiday presents from someone other than his family. In his darkest moments, Shoto would wrap the blanket tightly around his shoulders to remind himself that he isn’t alone and that there are people who care about him beyond his potential.
Shoto throws the blanket over Midoriya and leans back against his pillows as Midoriya lays his head on Shoto’s thigh, snuggling in closer with the blanket. It isn’t the first time they’ve been in a position like this; they’ve often fallen asleep in one of their beds during a movie or during a causal study session. Something feels different this time but Shoto doesn’t dwell on it. There’s no point in reading into a situation that is so clearly platonic. Still, he doesn’t keep himself from running his fingers through soft green curls. A soft moan floats from Midoriya’s lips and Shoto could burst into flames right there and then.
“Todoroki?” He hums in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”
It takes him by surprise. “For what?” He hasn’t done anything worthy of praise.
“For getting me out of there before I gouged my eyes out with a pencil.”
The words are so unexpected and said so sleepily that Shoto laughs again. He always seems to laugh the most when he’s with Midoriya. “Don’t thank me for caring about you,” Shoto replies and there are very few things Shoto hasn’t meant more than that. The things he does that are rooted in his deep affections aren’t things he has to think twice about doing. Every smile, every memory of coffee orders, and every late night cram session before a quiz come easily to him. There’s no effort required in loving Midoriya.
The man stiffens slightly on his lap and Shoto pauses his fingers, afraid he’s done or said something wrong. “Todoroki, I-” he cuts himself off, the silence heavy and thick.
“Yes?”
Midoriya shakes his head. “Nothing,” he whispers and there’s almost a longing in the single word. “Can we watch a movie until I fall asleep?” He flips over to look up at Shoto with the puppy-dog eyes he knows Shoto can’t resist. Shoto resits for nine seconds- a new record- before sighing and reaching out a hand for the laptop he had abandoned earlier that day on his bed. Midoriya grins with a new found burst of energy and hands the laptop to Shoto.
“What do you want to watch?” Shoto asks as Midoriya pushes himself up to lean against the pillows beside Shoto. He balances the computer on their thighs that are pressed too close together to be entirely platonic. Midoriya’s head finds Shoto’s shoulder and he can’t help but think that it’s meant to be there. He feels rather than sees Midoriya shrugs and he can’t hold back his eye roll. When it comes to movies and tv shows, he’s always been indecisive about what to watch. Apparently, everything is just too damn interesting.
Eventually, they settle on a cheesy romantic comedy that Shoto tolerates and Midoriya loves. Before every movie like this, Midoriya insists he won’t cry and without fail, Midoriya is bawling by the end of the film. It always happens when the two leads are ripped apart by miscommunication or the bitchy villain that wants the male love interest for herself. They both hated how villainized the women are within these storylines especially because they know women like Uraraka and Yaoyorozu and their own mothers but neither of them can’t help getting a little invested in this woman’s downfall. Midoriya has always been one open to love and the affection and the romances but to Shoto, it’s a foreign concept. The most romantic love he’s experienced has been through these movies and his own feelings which took him months to figure out.
The two of them sit together for an hour and thirty-seven minutes before Midoriya shifts away from Shoto’s side to look at him. Lazily, Shoto pauses the movie and shifts the laptop onto his lap. “Are you alright?”
Midoriya runs his fingers through his hair and Shoto can see the familiar pulls of anxiety around the corner of his eyes and the tension in his neck. “Can I say something?”
A twinge of something unpleasant- fear? Worry?- pulls deep in Shoto’s gut but he gulps and nods anyway. Midoriya takes a deep breath and the air grows heavy with unspoken words and suffocating tension. Midoriya takes a deep breath and Shoto steals himself for a stream of rambling but what he gets instead are the beginnings of tears and four words: “Please don’t hate me.”
In an instant, Shoto moves the laptop to shift to face Midoriya. He longs to reach out a hand and without letting himself second guess his actions, one of his hands squeezes Midoriya’s bicep. “I could never hate you.” Shoto means every word.
Tears are free falling now and Shoto’s heart breaks. “I think you might. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to feel this way but, I can’t stop it. It’s been months now and I thought that I would be able to push away these feelings because I don’t want to ruin our friendship but if I don’t tell you, I’m afraid I’m going to explode. Being in your life without you knowing is torture,” Midoriya sobs and Shoto’s emotions are a crazy whirlwind.
Midoriya hates me. That was the one pounding thought that Shoto could come up with. It didn’t explain why Midoriya is concerned about ruining their friendship but what other option is there? He’d always been a worst case scenario type of person but there isn’t any other scenario to be considered. These past months had all been an act because Midoriya is too polite to tell Shoto how he really feels. Shoto’s hand drops from Midoriya’s arm and he feels the neutral mask he’s perfected after all these years slip into place. Midoriya must recognize the look because his eyes blow wide and the tears come with renewed vigor.
“Tell me what, Midoriya?” He has to hear him say it. Shoto braces himself for the declaration. With the next words that left Midoriya’s mouth, his entire world would come out from under him. A pillar of strength he so desperately depends on would crumble but, he would be fine. If Shoto Todoroki is one thing, it’s fine.
Shoto’s world does indeed fall out from under him. His heart constricts and the breath leaves his lungs and he’s internally scrambling for purchase. The mask he wears so well falls off in an instant and Shoto Todoroki is most definitely not fine because Izuku Midoriya just said he loves him.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Shoto deadpans, struggling for words or emotions or anything really in the shit storm that is his mind currently.
Midoriya blinks and the action makes his eyes that much brighter and watery and Shoto can't miss the small, confused smile. “I love you.”
Ah, so he hadn’t misheard him.
“You love me?” Shoto confirms, the words slow and strange and so good on his tongue. They’re awkward and fumble slightly as they roll past his lips but he thinks he could get used to saying them if he ever gets over his shock. “I don’t understand. How could you love me?” It didn’t make sense. Shoto isn’t good enough for Midoriya; his baggage is plentiful and a burden and he can’t expect someone else, let alone someone as genuinely good as Midoriya, to carry it. Midoriya is life and warmth and love and Shoto’s experience with all those things has been limited at best. How is he supposed to be the man Midoriya deserves when his only real experience with relationships was shitty and awful?
Midoriya’s brows furrow in a look of confusion Shoto’s really only seen him give to an email from a professor or notes back on an essay for the English class he’s required to take. “How could I love you?” Midoriya repeats as if the question is the strangest thing Shoto’s ever asked him. “How could I not?” When he says it, it’s the simplest thing in the world and Shoto forgets how to breathe. Whatever part of the brain controls speech is scrambling for words to string together into something resembling a coherent sentence but Midoriya beats him to it.
Tentatively, Midoriya lays his hands over Shoto’s. The hands are light and cautious and there’s enough tension in them for Shoto to know he’s ready to pull them back at the first sign of discomfort. Luckily, he has enough control over his body to turn his palms up and intertwine their fingers. It’s a gesture that could be platonic but they both knew it wasn’t. Shoto squeezes Midoriya’s hands for strength and smiles when he gets one in return.
“Shoto, you…” Midoriya pauses, collecting his thoughts. There’s an embarrassed blush on his cheeks that Shoto’s sure his own face is sporting. “You make me feel a lot of things I’ve never really felt before. I’ve been in love before but,” his voice drops to a whisper, “never like this.” Izuku meets his gaze head on and Shoto’s sent reeling from the amount of emotion packed into a single look. It’s as if Izuku is trying to convey all the things he can’t seem to say in this one look and Shoto understands. Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against Izuku’s, desperate to be close and to escape from the way Izuku is bearing his heart out for Shoto to see.
“I think,” Shoto struggles to say. “No, I know what you mean.” He wants to be as open and honest as Midoriya. He wants to scream how he feels from rooftops and tell every stranger he sees how he feels about Izuku Midoriya but the emotions clog his throat and are seemingly unable to escape. Every word that could possibly begin to explain how deep his affections are lost to him so he hopes that his own gaze can say what he needs it to say. Hopefully, Midoriya can see the want and love and adoration Shoto feels because there’s no way he can say it out loud. Not yet, at least. These feelings are still so strange and new and unspoken that laying them out in the open leaves Shoto vulnerable in a way he isn’t comfortable with.
“Can I kiss you?” Midoriya must see it.
“Yes.” The word is so breathless, it’s barely spoken and in an instant, the quiet vibrations are caught between his and Midoriya’s lips.
It starts off hesitant and unsure with an awkward angle of their heads. They bump noses once and when Midoriya giggles, Shoto’s heart flutters. Then, Shoto places a guiding hand on Midoriya’s cheek and they fit together like they were made to do this. Push and pull, give and take. They kiss like they act: in almost perfect harmony with a few slip-ups in the form of clacking teeth or a bottom lip that is bitten a bit too hard. Kissing Midoriya feels like being surrounded by pure sunlight and Shoto wouldn’t mind drowning in his warmth.
When they part, Shoto chases his lips and the smile they’ve formed. For a moment, they bask in their quiet pants and burning feelings. Midoriya leans forward to press his head into the crook of Shoto’s neck and shoulder and after a moment of hesitation, Shoto wraps his arms tightly around Midoriya’s back as he figures that is something he’s allowed to do now.
“This is much better than a nap,” Midoriya muses quietly and Shoto can’t help but laugh.
“You’re not getting out of it. I’m not going to let it go that easy,” Shoto says and Midoriya moves to flash him those puppy-dog eyes.
“What do I get if I do nap?” A loaded question.
“I could think of something,” Shoto replies and leans down to steal another kiss because he can. He’s’ never been very good at being selfish- at least not intentionally- but he thinks he could be selfish with Midoriya’s kisses. He could steal a million from those perfect lips and still wouldn’t be content.
Midoriya’s grin could power cities and Shoto is so in love.
When they fall asleep soon after, it’s with Midoriya’s chest flush against Shoto’s back. The red and white blanket is thrown over their tangled legs and Shoto’s hand is pressed tightly against Midoriya’s chest to keep him close. Shoto sleeps with a smile on his face and dreams of green.