Chapter Text
Eerie giggles ring out through the silence of the warehouse turned temporary hideout. The voice is deep yet holding a strange innocence not unlike that of a child's; the bizarre purity only serves to make the echoing laughter more chilling.
A young male lays upon a makeshift throne; a gold crown resembling a queen's rests in his dual-colored hair. His pale legs—clad in fishnet tights—are swung over one of the throne's armrests, his head resting on the other. A ripped t-shirt—heavily stained with blood—reading "Daddy's Lil Monster" is half-tucked into blue and red booty shorts.
"What are you doing Shouto?" The questioner's voice is higher-pitched than the other male's though it's filled with much less innocence and more sin.
This one is clad in a purple suit with a green dress shirt under it. Black leather gloves are fitted snugly around his hands; they're covering various scars. Curly green hair is tucked behind one ear on one side while the other side is left untouched.
A chuckle is paired with the inquiry's answer, "Nothing~!" The male—Shouto—drawls lively.
"Hey Izuku, I'm bored," Shouto declares, his tone becoming nonchalant.
He swings his legs over the armrest so he's sitting up properly; the boots he's wearing—with mismatched heights—click on the concrete floor of the warehouse. Strawberry red lips curl into a pout that has Izuku swiftly making his way to the other.
As cute Izuku thinks Shouto looks with a pout, the elder greatly prefers the beauty of Shouto's taunting grin instead.
Izuku lets himself go when he reaches Shouto. He leaves the stresses of leading a life he does, the title he's been given for leading a life of crime; Izuku lets himself focus on kissing the pout off Shouto's lips instead.
He starts by placing two pecks on each side of Shouto's lips; the rest of the kisses he sprinkles over the rest of Shouto's face. His forehead, nose, cheeks, the rough skin of the burn scar covering Shouto's left eye. Izuku kisses every perfection and imperfection until Shouto is giggling childishly.
It's then he kisses lips that slot perfectly against his. Instinctively, Izuku nibbles on the other's bottom lip and Shouto grants him entrance like the request was expected as soon as Izuku walked into the warehouse. Izuku threads one hand into Shouto's hair and places the other at the small of his back. He feels Shouto dig his fingers into the expensive fabric of his suit, pulling him closer until they're flush against each other's bodies. The satisfied whimper Shouto gives at the contact is more heavenly than Izuku thinks the Heavens itself are.
When they both pull away, Shouto's cheeks are tinted with pink and his heterochromatic eyes are glossed over. Izuku takes his time to look over his lover for the first time tonight; he subconsciously starts tracing the edges of the marred skin of Shouto's scar. He doesn't worry about it though. After all, the "oh so great" Mr. Todoroki no longer exists—he died at the hands of the monster he created of his favorite son.
"As I expected, you do look gorgeous with a crown," Izuku comments. He watches as the pink flush of Shouto's cheeks turns darker.
"I need to get you one now too," Shouto mumbles shyly. “You’re my king after all.” An adoring smile makes its way to Izuku’s face at Shouto’s words.
“Then my queen,” Izuku replies, backing away and reaching out his hand in an invitation. “Will you take this dance with me?”
Standing up, Shouto takes Izuku’s extended hand; he laughs happy when Izuku peppers a few more kisses onto his face.
“Of course my king.”