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Having grown up with almost no friends at all, suddenly having one so dear to him was at times confusing for Shouto. He and Midoriya had been close since their very first year, and as time went on, they only grew closer still. And Shouto isn’t complaining, of course not. How could he, when befriending Midoriya is pretty much the best thing to ever happen to him?
They do almost everything together ever since they moved to the dorms, barring actually sleeping and showering together—and even the former, they sometimes end up dozing off on each other’s shoulders in the common room. But he will often find himself wondering what it is about Midoriya that is so different, because even if he is what Shouto might even call a best friend, some things just stand out too much for him not to linger on them.
Shouto had sparred with his classmates on many occasions. Their physical training may differ from one to another, but they have all managed to knock him off his feet at least once, pinning him down to the ground, with his hands behind his back or above his head, straddling his legs or bending them painfully to get him to forfeit. Yet it’s only ever with Midoriya that he feels his heart race just a little faster than usual, his gut fill with a strange coldness that bubbles, ready to overflow. Shouto had reasoned it away by telling himself it was only due to Midoriya’s heightened reflexes, that his quirk was one to inspire more caution that those of his peers. The thrill of those fights was just that much greater. Nowadays, he’s not so sure.
After his friend exhausted him to the point of barely being able to lift himself back up to his feet, he watches from the side-lines as Midoriya keeps going with Bakugou, then Kirishima when the anger-fuelled sweat-bomb is left just as breathless as Shouto before him. And he wonders why it is that his stomach is twisting into painful knots whenever he catches a glimpse of Midoriya’s self-satisfied smirk after another successful hit, that trilling laugh aimed at his opponent as he continues to jump and twist around him. Shouto wonders why he is riddled with an incessant itch just beneath his skin that he can’t seem to scratch no matter how hard he tries. His arms are starting to look red.
“Tch.” Shouto’s gaze flickers to Bakugou’s irritated scowl, but something in his crimson eyes gives away an understanding that he doesn’t quite get. “It’s annoying, isn’t it? That feeling of not wanting him to look at anyone that isn’t you, to smile that way for any other reason than yourself. I feel that way about Shitty Hair too. You just gotta learn to live with it, it’s just how they are. Fucking sunshine idiots.”
“What do you mean?” Shouto asks, genuinely at a loss yet feeling something nauseating brewing in the pit of his stomach.
“You’re not gonna try and deny it, are you? You’re obviously in love with that shitty nerd.” All Shouto can do is blink stupidly in return, and, slowly, Bakugou’s mildly disgruntled expression morphs to one of disbelief. “You can’t be serious. You’re literally the last one to find out. Pretty sure even that oblivious Deku has figured it out. I thought you two were dating on the DL.”
Swallowing down the sickening feeling quickly overcoming him, Shouto excuses himself and stumbles his way out of the gym without so much as a word to the other two. His breaths are coming out a little too short, not enough oxygen reaching his lungs, and not even halfway to the dorms, Shouto has to lean against the nearest structure for support, his knees giving under his weight as spots start to appear in his vision. For someone who was still learning what friendship really is, what it actually feels like, he had never once considered his feelings for Midoriya might be something else entirely. And now that an explanation for all those differences had just been waved in front of his face, Shouto doesn’t know how to handle it.
Is it true? Does Midoriya know? Did he know even before he did? Why didn’t he say anything?
It’s so hard to breathe, it feels like the whole world as he knew it is crashing around him and leaving him surrounded by ruins, broken and bruised. No, that’s not right, he’s broken already. Midoriya knows that, doesn’t he?
Bakugou is right. Midoriya is like the sunshine, warm and bright, able to make a gloomy day so much better just by showing up. But stare too long and one can go blind, get too close and risk burning beyond hope of ever recovering. How could Shouto ever hope to be anything more than the lonely, broken mess that admires him from afar? Midoriya is so much higher up, unreachable. Shouto would only hold him back. It’s no wonder he didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t want that kind of a burden weighing him down, stopping him from reaching his fullest potential. He can’t even keep up with his training while they are still in high school. Shouto is just a bother, just a nuisance, not enough, not worthy, not worth it.
If he were to ever act on his feelings, Midoriya would only grow to hate him for putting that weight on his shoulders.
At first, Shouto tries to simply keep them secret, continuing with business as usual. But now that he is painfully aware of every reaction and why it’s happening, pretending is no longer an option. Like the sun, it starts becoming painful to so much as look Midoriya’s way, touching him begins to burn. All the moments that made his heart thunder and his cheeks flush in a way that was almost pleasant, are now nothing short of agonising. And the only way he can stop from hurting is to stop living through them.
For the first couple of days, it actually works. He is blissfully numb as he just stays away from Midoriya, and knowing him to have times in which he just wants to be alone until he opens up about whatever is bothering him, his friend—that’s all he is, that’s all he will ever be—leaves him to it. But then he starts feeling Midoriya’s eyes boring holes into the back of his head whenever he is avoiding looking his way. The few times he still fails to stop his own gaze from drifting to those vibrant green eyes, he finds them shining with a deep sadness that threatens to spill, and that somehow stings even worse.
One by one, their other friends start to pry, trying to get them back in the same room in one way or another. Even Midoriya approaches him when he can’t quite escape, in the middle of an exercise during their hero class, asking if he has done something wrong and what he can do to fix it. But Shouto keeps telling him that everything is fine, time and time again, because nothing is really wrong when all that has changed is that he realised how futile his feelings are.
He hates to admit it, but maybe Endeavor had it right. Relationships are just a distraction. Even All Might never got too attached to anyone, and Midoriya is following in his footsteps. He would be a fool to even hope it would be any different; so, he doesn’t. Slowly, the ice that Midoriya had helped melt builds back up around his heart, lifting walls almost impossible to climb. But if there is one thing he knows about Midoriya, maybe even one of the reasons he even fell for him at all, it’s that he isn’t one to give up in the face of adverse odds.
Shouto should have expected him to fight back when he started avoiding him, he knows him to take matters into his own hands when passively waiting for things to get better is no longer an option. Yet when Midoriya pulls him aside one day, pinning him against a wall to stop him from escaping once again, his heart still jumps to his throat, blood pooling on his cheeks from how close their faces are all of a sudden. His stomach churns, his skin burns painfully with both ice and fire settling beneath it and his breath hitches pathetically. Under the intensity of Midoriya’s glare, Shouto feels weak, his own eyes dipping to his lips pulled down in a frown and he wants to close this small gap between them so badly.
He swallows thickly as Midoriya leans ever closer, their breaths mingling together, and Shouto’s head feels impossibly light. If he could just let go of everything, focus only on what Midoriya makes him feel… But he can’t, not when his fears are still screaming in the back of his head, telling him that he will ruin everything and Midoriya will hate him.
“Todoroki-kun…” Midoriya chokes, his freckled cheeks tinted a soft pink that Shouto wants to press his lips to. “Why do you keep running away from me? After all we’ve been through… don’t you trust me? Whatever is bothering you, I want to help…”
Does he have to be so close to say that? One of his hands is travelling up his side in what should be a comforting touch, but all it accomplishes is setting Shouto’s heart ablaze, jackhammering against his ribs in a way that is almost painful.
“Please…” Midoriya whispers, his words brushing against Shouto’s heated cheeks like a lover’s caress, and his strangled voice, the plea behind it, sends a molten heat down to his very core.
“You can’t help me.” Shouto forces himself to say, his throat scratching with the effort it takes to hold back the desperate part of him that wants to fall at Midoriya’s feet and beg him to love him. “This is something I have to deal with on my own, I can’t—I won’t lay this on you too.”
“What do you mean?”
Midoriya clenches a fist against the wall, gnawing at his bottom lip as he stares down at his feet to take a deep breath. When he looks back up, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into Shouto’s, it feels like Midoriya knocks the breath right out of his lungs and turns his knees to jelly. Shouto slides down just slightly, and Midoriya holds him up with a hand splayed against his chest, his lips parted as he inhales sharply.
“You feel this too, don’t you? Is that why…?” Midoriya mumbles, tilting his chin up and inching his face closer to the point that their noses almost touch. Shouto feels his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps in response, his eyes watering with the overwhelming need to just give in, but he can’t—he can’t. “You’ve felt it before, haven’t you? All those times we were so close I could almost… Todoroki-kun I really…”
Midoriya trails off and Shouto’s foolish heart fills with a misguided hope. Even if Midoriya is trying to say what he wants to hear so badly, even if it’s not just wishful thinking, he can’t accept that, not when everything they have can go up in flames if he does. Midoriya is too important, not just to him, but for the world around them. Shouto can’t stand in the way of that, he has to—he has to…
“Do you like me too? You do, don’t you? So why are you avoiding me? Is the thought of being with me that awful?”
Once again, Midoriya traps his lower lip between his teeth, and Shouto’s treacherous eyes dip down to admire it, a tiny voice inside his head telling him to bite into it himself. He squeezes his eyes shut, setting his jaw and pressing against the wall even further. With a small crack of his voice, Midoriya calls his name once more and Shouto feels his resolve start to break, another part of him hissing at him for his weakness.
“One word from you and I will leave you alone.” Midoriya murmurs, but Shouto can hear the pain he feels in his chest echoing in his friend’s words. “But if you’re pushing me away because you think it’s the best for me, not because you don’t want to be with me… Then don’t. I make my own decisions, Todoroki-kun, and I’ve decided that what I feel for you is more than friendship. And I want—I want to—”
The hand on his chest travels to Shouto’s hair, brushing the longer strands away from his face. Fire burns in Shouto’s veins, rapidly melting that ice he had been building back up, and he can’t find the words to tell Midoriya to stay away from him. Instead, as if his body has a mind of its own, Shouto leans down, stopping just short of their lips touching, that ugly anxiety gripping his soul and jerking him back to the dark depths of his insecurities. But before he actually pulls away, Midoriya tugs him the rest of the way down, breathing a whole new mix of feelings right into him.
The entire world becomes white noise and all he can think of is how Midoriya tastes like fresh mint when his tongue slides against his own. Nothing else matters for the single moment their lips lock in a clumsy kiss that morphs everything into uncontained euphoria and he grips Midoriya’s sides so tightly one might think his very life depends on it. In that second, it almost feels like he would die without Midoriya’s breath invading his lungs, without his touch keeping him grounded.
He knows that one kiss isn’t going to fix everything; even now, as Midoriya pulls away to catch his breath and stare into his eyes, Shouto is already feeling that fear creep back up his spine. But gentle fingers dance over the scarred skin around his left eye, those vibrant emerald eyes soften with adoration and Shouto’s entire being trembles before him.
“Midoriya…” His vision blurs slightly and a thumb carefully wipes a stray tear right from the corner of his eye. “What if—”
Midoriya cuts him off with another kiss, quick and chaste. He hushes him, rubbing their noses together and tangling his fingers in Shouto’s hair. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry about anything. We will deal with it all when the time comes. Together, because we are stronger that way.”
Choking back a quiet sob, Shouto pulls Midoriya into his arms and lets out a shaky breath as he holds him back, continuing to leave butterfly kisses all over his face and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. It’s a simple gesture, but it helps ease the worries still gnawing at his insides. With Midoriya by his side, Shouto can only hope that everything else will follow.