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It was maybe 2:00 in the morning? 3:00? He wasn’t sure. His mind was keeping him up.
Todoroki Shouto had a lot of feelings. And he didn’t know what to do with any of them.
He liked to organize things in his head, in a bullet-pointed list, if you will. The things he knew, and the things he didn’t.
Things He Knew:
- He liked Midoriya Izuku
- Reasons: Sports Festival, best friend, kind, safe.
Things He Didn’t Know:
- If his feelings were returned
- If he would do anything about it
- If his feelings were returned, would they date?
- Who would want to date him?
- In what reality would Midoriya want to?
He shook his head, rolling over in his dormitory bed, blinking in the dark. But what if they did? What if they did date? He grinned, shoving his face in his pillow.
Not one to daydream, this was a new experience for him. He imagined Midoriya’s embrace. Would they hold hands? Cuddle? His face burned at the thought of kissing him. They would go on dates, too.
Reality crashed over him again and he shifted to his back, spreading out his limbs, staring at the ceiling as if it had answers.
Like a small spark in his chest, he turned over the thought of confessing. How would he do it? He imagined himself dramatically proclaiming his affection for his friend, but he knew in reality it would probably be a lot less smooth, and a lot more awkward. Still, it was fun to fantasize.
What would they do on dates? Midoriya would probably talk a lot in that endearing way of his. Shouto loved to listen to him. He liked the flow of the conversation, not having to add his own thoughts too much. He produced an image of walking through a park hand-in-hand, laughing over boba. He felt the warmth of a bed, combing his fingers through curly green hair.
He drifted off at some point, waking up to the screech of his alarm. Groping for his phone, he shut it off with a groan. His grogginess faded when he saw a message from Midoriya.
Midoriya Izuku, 6:57: Hurry. It’s Uraraka’s birthday today!!!!
Tugging on his uniform, Todoroki shuffled down to the common room, feeling slightly guilty that he had forgotten. He greeted Kaminari and Kirishima, ignoring Bakugo’s glare.
A little awkwardly, he approached Uraraka to wish her a happy birthday, hoping that nobody noticed that he hadn’t gotten her a gift either.
She was distracted, turning Midoriya’s gift over in her hands. She hardly even noticed him, sending a busy smile. “Thanks!” she turned back to Midoriya, grinning wide. She threw her arms around him. “Your gift was so thoughtful, thank you.”
Oh.
Of course.
Suddenly Todoroki felt so stupid. Of course. Uraraka liked him too. Midoriya was too wonderful for him to be the only one.
The feeling that washed over him wasn’t jealousy. It was more of a cold wake-up call. He was friends with Uraraka too. It was only fair that he stepped aside. Besides, if Midoriya were to choose between either of the two, Todoroki knew the choice wouldn’t be him.
He wasn’t sure how long he just stood there, staring. At some point Sero had brushed past him to get to the kitchen, shaking him from his stupor.
Todoroki spent the rest of the day with his mind absent. He put his chin on his hand, tuning out Present Mic’s lecture, reorganizing his thoughts.
Things He Knew:
- He liked Midoriya
- Uraraka did too
- He didn’t have chance
Things He Didn’t Know:
- If he’d be able to keep his feelings to himself forever
He sighed, ignoring Yayorozu’s confused glance. “What page are we on?”
“324,” She replied. “Are you alright?”
He hit himself mentally. He shouldn’t be so obvious about his feelings. It wasn’t like him at all. “Yeah,”
The bell rang for lunch, and they all filed out of the classroom in a buzz. Midoriya came up to him enthusiastically, eyes shining. “What are you going to eat?”
Todoroki blinked. “I’m not sure.”
“It can be so hard to choose sometimes,” Midoriya agreed. He turned to Iida, and asked him the same question.
“Maybe beef stew? What about you, Midoriya?”
Again, Todoroki groaned in his head. Why was he so bad at talking? He had been working on that, asking people questions back. Why did he forget?
He entered the cafeteria with his friends in silence, listening to them talk. This was normal. This was the dynamic of their friendship. He was proud of managing to stay normal.
He tried not to stare as Midoriya went off about a new film, nodding occasionally to show that he was still listening. Of course, he was listening. But through his head bobs, he was absolutely smitten.
Midoriya had this glow. Maybe it was how passionate he was. Or how enthusiastic he was. He brought out the best in people. He made people feel better.
Everything Shouto couldn’t do. He brought out the worst in everyone. He hurt people. He didn’t even deserve him, so why did he even think they could be anything?
Suddenly his soba didn’t taste very good anymore. He set down his chopsticks, feeling queasy.
Perceptive as always, Midoriya noticed right away. “What’s wrong? You’ve been kinda weird today.”
Iida nodded, pushing up his glasses. “I saw you spacing out during class,”
Todoroki shrugged, “Tired,”
“You can always talk to us,” Iida said.
“We just want you to be happy,” Midoriya agreed.
“I know, it’s fine.”
The looks he received made him know that they didn’t believe him. Thankfully, they dropped it, and continued their conversation. But when Midoriya knocked on the door of his room later in the afternoon, he knew it’d be hard to avoid this conversation again.
He cursed himself for feeling his heart rate pick up. Don’t be stupid , he told himself. He tried to collect himself before opening the door. “Hi,” he breathed.
Fuck. Midoriya was wearing an oversized sweatshirt. He could see his collarbones. They were freckled too, he realized. Struggling to clear his mind, Todoroki leaned against the doorframe, attempting to stay casual.
“Can we talk?”
“Yes?”
“Like,” his eyes darted nervously to the side. “In private?”
Todoroki could have sworn his heart was in his throat. “Sure,” he paused, Midoriya’s face was expecting, like he was waiting for something.
Midoriya’s face split into a grin. “As in, can you let me in?”
I’m so stupid, he thought to himself in a panic, stepping back to let Midoriya into his room. He slid into his desk chair, watching Midoriya settle onto his bed.
He looked so huggable.
Expecting Midoriya to question his odd behavior, Todoroki was a little surprised when Midoriya simply blurted, “I gotta tell you something.”
Todoroki could hear his heartbeat, feeling it stuttering against his chest, slamming against his ribs. “Yeah?” His voice sounded so unsteady, so unlike him. But Midoriya always had that effect on him. Don’t get your hopes up, stupid. Too late. They were way up.
“I think I like Uraraka.”
Oh.
Of course.
“You do?” he croaked, voice breaking pathetically. He cleared his throat. “Right, I knew that.”
“You did?”
“I think she likes you too,” Todoroki offered, suddenly very interested in his hands. They were shaking.
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Ask him another question, it’s a conversation, remember? “Why do you like her?” The question felt like it was getting ripped out of him.
Midoriya breathed, eyes sparkling. “There’s so many things, I don’t even know where to start,” He laughed, “I probably look so stupid.”
“No, you don’t.” That’s what I look like when I think of you, probably.
“I didn’t know who to tell,” Midoriya admitted. “But I just had to tell someone, you know? I couldn’t keep it bottled up.”
God, I know.
“I’m so glad we’re friends,” he continued. “Iida isn’t interested in this kind of talk, and anyone else would’ve laughed at me. I feel like I can tell you anything.”
Maybe another day Todoroki would have taken this comment and kept it tucked close to his heart, but today it just hurt. “Me too.”
He didn’t even bother asking a question to keep the conversation going. He didn’t even want to have this conversation.
At some point, Midoriya had left to go start his homework, and Todoroki was now staring at the spot on his bed where he had been sitting just earlier.
God, it hurt. He knew it was coming, and it still hurt. Todoroki had spent his whole life hurting, but he wasn’t numb to pain. This was a pain he had never felt before.
Maybe it would have been easier if he was jealous. It would be so much easier to hate Uraraka. To hate Midoriya. But instead he was just mad at himself.
Mad for believing Midoriya had come to check on him.
Mad for thinking he deserved something good.
Mad for getting his hopes up.
Mad for leaving himself vulnerable like that.
He didn’t cry. Maybe it would have been better if he cried.
Instead, his shock turned into an alarming emptiness, and he curled into his sheets, feeling hollow, homework forgotten. So, like always, he turned to habit.
Things He Knew:
- He was the biggest idiot on the planet.
Things He Didn’t Know:
- What on Earth was he going to do
***
He wasn’t really sure if he slept. He hadn’t even set his alarm, but when he tore his eyes from the same spot on the wall he had been looking at all night, his clock read 7:00.
Dragging himself out of bed, he dressed in a daze. Usually he lingered in the common room with the others before they all headed to class, but he skipped this part of his morning. He wasn’t in the mood. He wasn’t sure if he could bear to see Midoriya.
He was early to the classroom, so he expected it to be empty, but was a little surprised to see Bakugo slouched in his chair.
“What are you looking at?” he growled, friendly as ever. “Jesus, you look like shit.”
“Thanks,”
“Did your grandma die or something?”
Todoroki ignored him, sliding into his seat.
“Don’t ignore me,” Bakugo barked. “What happened?”
“Why do you care?”
“Because when you’re all mopey, you make everyone else mopey. And how am I supposed to kick their ass if they’re sad?”
“It’s stupid,” Todoroki mumbled, uninterested in spilling his feelings to Bakugo. “I don’t really want to talk about it,”
Bakugo grunted. “Alright, idiot. If you, like, need to talk about shit, I guess I can lend you my services once or twice.”
“Thanks, Bakugo.”
“Shut up.”
***
After a while, Todoroki would think for a day or two that things were okay now. Things hadn’t really changed with him and Midoriya at all.
But then Midoriya would laugh that laugh of his, or throw a friendly arm over his shoulder, and the empty feeling would come back.
Midoriya talked to Todoroki a lot about Uraraka. Todoroki couldn’t bring himself to tell him to stop. He was Midorya’s friend, always , even when it hurt sometimes. So he sucked it up, and he listened.
On one of their free days, the class had decided to go to a mall together. Kirishima called it “bonding” but Todoroki called it “torture”. He would have preferred to just hole up in his room, but when Midoriya had asked if he was going, he couldn’t say no.
That probably wasn’t healthy.
Midoriya sat next to him on the bus. Todoroki was painfully aware of how close they were and he leaned away, pressed against the window, trying to withstand himself.
God, he didn’t realize how touchy Midoriya was. An affectionate hug, a brushing of hands. His touch burned, and every time he moved away, Todoroki wanted more. Their thighs pressed together and he felt like he was on fire.
“You want one?”
Todoroki frowned. “What?”
Midoriya placed one of his earbuds in Todoroki’s ear. “Listen to this song, yeah?”
God damnit , they were corded, so they had no choice but to lean their heads close to one another’s. Todoroki tried very hard not to look at his lips, but he was just distracted by his freckles instead.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No,” he breathed. He prayed that his face wasn’t red. He could hear his pulse through the music, for god’s sake.
This is nice, he thought to himself, guiltily. It was like they were insulated in a bubble. In a world where Midoriya didn’t like someone else. In a world where Todoroki still loved him, but there was a chance at those feelings being returned.
Love. Did he love him? He glanced down again, and then turned to look out the window. Yeah . What else could it be?
Things He Knew:
- He was in love
- And maybe Midoriya was too
- But not with him
- He would much rather have Midoriya as a friend, than not have him at all
- Therefor, he wouldn’t do anything
Things He Didn’t Know:
- When it would stop hurting
- Would it ever stop?
The bus ride was so dreadfully long, but at the same time too short. When the vehicle pulled to a stop, he let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Their bubble popped, and when he caught Midoriya staring at Uraraka, he felt something inside him break a little bit more.
Filing out of the bus, Midoriya whispered into his ear, “ You really think she likes me back? ”
“Yeah,” he answered, tugging at his collar. “Yeah, I do.”
Their class split up into groups, and Todoroki found himself with Uraraka, Kaminari, Tsuyu and Ojiro. He hadn’t really avoided going with Midoriya on purpose, but he wasn’t sure if he could stand it, staying with him.
They were the group that wasn’t really sure what they were interested in buying, so they wandered past the shops, waiting until someone wanted to enter one.
He wasn’t necessarily close with anyone in this group, so he found himself lingering in the back, trying to distract himself with the colorful displays.
“Todoroki, can I talk to you?”
“Yes, of course,” he tried to smile.
Uraraka beamed. “Oh, this is embarrassing,” she put her hands on her cheeks, nose scrunching up a bit. “I wanted to talk about Deku.”
I don’t. He swallowed the retort down and nodded. “Go for it.”
“You’re close with him, right? Best friends?”
The title stung. He didn’t want to be friends. “Mm-hm,” he said, nonchalantly, trying to pretend to rake through the rack of clothes. He wasn’t sure if he could look at her without breaking a little more.
“Has he ever said anything about me?”
“You like him, right?”
She blinked. “I-I mean, yeah. Is it that obvious?”
Todoroki wanted to scream.
There were two things he could do. He could lie, and tell her that Midoriya wasn’t interested. That wouldn’t hurt as much. Or, he could swallow down his selfishness and be honest. And that would maybe kill him.
“Shoot your shot,” he murmured. This was very hypocritical advice. “There’s no point in just thinking ‘what-if’, right?”
Uraraka was silent for a moment. “You’re right,” she realized. “Worst comes to worst, he rejects me.”
He won’t .
“Yeah,”
“Thank you, Todoroki! I think I needed to hear that,”
His heart sunk to the bottom of his ribs. “Uh huh.”
Nice going, Shouto.
He sat with Iida on the way back. And tried to ignore Midoriya and Uraraka behind him.
***
Todoroki had no idea what he was doing, but by the time he had knocked on Bakugo’s door it was too late to turn back.
The door was yanked open and Bakugo’s red glare met his, eyes narrowing. “Can I help you?”
“Can I use those services of yours?”
Something almost softened in his expression. Almost. “Kirishima’s here, do you mind if he stays?”
“Not really,”
Bakugo stepped back and Todoroki entered his room. Kirishima was lounging on Bakugo’s bed, red hair spread over the pillows.
“Todoroki?” Kirishima looked confused, scooting over to make room for him. “What brings you here?”
Bakugo dropped into his desk chair, gesturing for Todoroki to sit. “He needs therapy.”
Kirishima snorted. “ Your therapy?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he turned his attention back to Shouto. “So did Deku finally reject you?”
Todoroki wasn’t sure if he heard correctly. “What?”
“You like him, no?” Bakugo’s face was unreadable.
“No- I mean, yeah. I do.” This was the first time he had told anyone, and Bakugo was the last person he’d expect to tell.
“And he likes Uraraka. She likes him too,” he added, like an afterthought. “I knew it.”
Kirishima grinned. “He’s observant like that.”
Bakugo crossed his arms, leaning back. “So what’re you going to do about it?”
“Nothing, probably.”
“Really?” Kirishima sat up. “Bro, what the fuck, who does that?
Todoroki frowned. He didn’t know that his plan would be met with such objection. “I mean, what am I supposed to do?”
“Go get your man, like, well, a man ,”
“Idiot,” Bakugo shot back. “It’s not that simple, Kirishima. He’s probably all, ‘but she makes him happy, and I can’t take that from him,” he raised his voice, mockingly.
“I don’t sound like that,”
“Shut up, Half-and-half,” Bakugo growled. “How long are you going to be able to keep this up? Stuffing down your feelings and just watching?”
“I don’t know,”
“What the fuck do you know?”
Todoroki paused. “I don’t know much,” he admitted. “But I do know that I want him. That I love him.”
The duo was silent.
“Well, at least that’s something,” Bakugo muttered.
***
Midoriya and Uraraka started dating that month.
Uraraka had confessed first (something she was forever grateful to Todoroki for). When they entered the classroom hand in hand for the first time, Todoroki could feel Kirishima’s pitiful stare and Bakugo’s quietly concerned one.
God, it never stopped hurting. It probably never would.
Midoriya was good about it. He still spent a lot of time with Iida and Todoroki alone, joking that he would never ditch his friends for a girl. They didn’t really do much PDA, and sometimes if Todoroki didn’t look too closely, nothing had changed.
But when it came to Midoriya, Todoroki could only ever give him all of his attention. And oh, how he wished he could look away.
It had been a couple weeks, but Midoriya wouldn’t stop glowing. Todoroki would mention her name casually, and he would just light up. He looked so beautiful like that.
It was another sleepless night. He had been having a lot of those recently. The clock read 2:34 am, and his mind wouldn’t stop buzzing. He couldn’t get Midoriya out of his head.
He remembered another one of these nights. Where his chest had been filled with naive butterflies at the thought of them together. He remembered fantasizing about the dates they could go on. He imagined Midoriya in one of his sweaters, wrapped in his sheets. Shouto pictured himself kissing those freckles. Every single one of them.
Midoriya wasn’t his. But sometimes Shouto stayed awake, pretending that he was. He created this idea that maybe Midoriya secretly wanted him too. But when he wakes up the next morning he remembers again. Midoriya doesn’t want him. And he’s never going to be his.
It was these nights that were the worst. When he was with Midoriya, he could at least stand next to him. Here, in the dark, alone, it felt like there was something in him that was missing. And no matter what he tried to stuff the hole with, it wasn’t enough.
But he didn’t blame him. Todoroki was so broken. He was always going to be shattered, and he wasn’t surprised that Midoriya didn’t want to pick up those pieces.
Suddenly he grabbed his phone off his nightstand, and before he really knew what he was doing, it was pressed against his ear.
“Todoroki? Why are you calling at this time?”
“Midoriya,” he breathed. “It hurts,”
Something in the back of his head screamed. What are you doing?
“What does? What happened?”
“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t.”
“Can’t do what? Hold on, I’m coming. You’re in your room right?”
“I love you,”
The silence was deafening.
Midoriya laughed over the line. “Did you drink or something?”
“I’m in love with you,” Todoroki repeated. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Todoroki, I-”
“No,” he interrupted. “Listen, please.”
He had no idea what he was saying, or what he was doing. He was probably making a big mistake. But for some reason he couldn't stand the idea of Midoriya not knowing. It felt like he was getting eaten up from the inside
“Can you picture it? You and me together? God, if you were mine I’d… I’d never let you go,” he whispered. “You know, I thought it hurt when I knew you didn’t love me. But watching you fall in love with her hurts even more.”
Midoriya’s voice was hesitant. “You’re clearly not in your right mind right now. Let’s talk about this another time, alright?”
“What if I am in my right mind?”
“You’re not.”
“How would you know?”
“Todoroki. I can’t have this conversation with you. I’ll talk to you later.”
The call ended. And Todoroki felt like something in him ended with it.
***
“I just had to go fuck it up,” Todoroki muttered, running his fingers through his hair. This wasn’t him. He didn’t feel like himself. “Say something,” he pleaded. “I don’t know what to do.”
Bakugo stared at him, eyes infuriatingly neutral. “You didn’t fuck anything up.”
“Midoriya won’t even look at me,” Todoroki replied. He was pacing around Bakugo’s room anxiously. “Why did I tell him?”
“What do you mean? You told him because you wanted to. You kept it all bottled up and it just exploded.”
They both jumped when Todoroki’s phone rang. “It’s him,” he mumbled, suddenly numb. “He wants to talk.”
“Well, do you want to talk to him?”
“Yeah,”
“Then there you go,” Bakugo leaned back. “Close the door on your way out.”
***
Midoriya was standing outside the dorms, arms crossed close to his chest. He glanced at Todoroki when he entered. “Hey,”
“Hi.”
“Did you really mean it, what you said?”
“Yeah.”
“You know how I feel, right?”
Todoroki nodded. God, I know.
Midoriya looked down. “I don’t know what you want me to say, then.”
“Mhm.”
“Are you shutting me out?”
“What?”
“You always do that,” Midoriya sighed. “You can’t ever talk about your feelings.”
“I did last night.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah well,” Todoroki tore his gaze away. “That’s just how I am. I shut people out. Don’t take it personally. It’s just easier like that.”
Midoriya groaned. “Are you mad at me?”
“No,” That was true. He was mad at himself.
Mad for making himself vulnerable.
Mad for ruining his friendship.
Mad for breaking his promise to himself.
“Then what are you feeling?”
“I don’t know,”
“What do you know?”
Todoroki laughed. It was a hollow, broken thing. It was feelings that had been stepped on and rolled in the mud. It was the thing in his chest that ached every time he saw him. “I don’t know much,” he looked deep into Midoriya’s eyes. “But I do know that I want you.”
“I can’t give you that.”
“I know that too.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Nothing, probably.”
“Really?”
Todoroki smiled. “You were my friend before. I don’t see why that has to change now.” He'd much rather have him as a friend, than not have him at all.
Midoriya grinned back. “Yeah, I don’t see why either.”
***
It was maybe 2:00 in the morning. Or was it 3:00? Time gets fuzzy at night.
Todoroki had a lot of feelings. But now he knew, somewhat, what to do with them.
Things He Knew:
- He was still in love with Midoriya
- Midoriya didn’t return his feelings
- And it wasn’t ever going to stop hurting.