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In a secluded part of an already small town, there is an old mansion lying dormant deep in the woods. Most people think it abandoned to time and the elements, weathering them all day after day, sturdy but not immune to the damage they incur. Paint has chipped off the walls, the wood has begun to splinter, the flora has overgrown, and many small animals have made their home amidst the unkempt gardens, chewing on the shrubs and huddling among the trees. A fountain that may have once been beautiful and lush, with crystal clear waters sprinkling up into the air, is now covered in vines, the still water green with moss and overrun with frogs and other such so-called pests.
The manor itself was said to have been home to a rich family and their servants, once upon a time. But as time went on and the demands of booming businesses drew them to the city centres, the house remained forgotten, unmanned, unnecessary. Were it in a more convenient location, some may have called it haunted, which may have given it the chance to become lively once again, thrill-seeking teenagers invading its walls for a night of terrors sure to set their hearts to racing. But as it stood, far too off the beaten path and the roads covered by the ever-growing forest searching for more room to extend its roots, it simply lay hidden from humanity’s eyes.
The truth is, for as much as it looks that way, the house is far from dead.
It was sometime after most had long forgotten its existence, when one lone soul sought solitude away from the controlling eyes of what some called a doting father. Well, according to those living in close quarters with him, there are much more appropriate words than that: overbearing, suffocating, infuriating… the list goes on, really, each description more unforgiving than the last. The house still sat in the family’s scriptures, old as it may be. There was never really an incentive to sell it. It held too much history to be appealing to anyone other than its original owners, but those had already moved on to supposedly better things.
Though as many things tend to be, the definition of better in this particular case was very subjective. For the youngest son of the family that had lived in that house for generations, after the rest of his siblings moved on with their own lives, his mother’s whereabouts unknown for so long he hardly remembered the sound of her voice, this empty house held more promise than anything his father could think up. After all, what use did his father’s business even have for a pureblood vampire unable to withstand sunlight?
Funny as it may sound, given common beliefs on such monsters of old, that is really not the norm nowadays. Todoroki Shouto is a true rarity, a creature of the night, in every sense of the saying. Some might call that a proof of his purity, a promise for the return of the Dark Ages in which fear reigned supreme and vampires were respected and revered among other mystical and magical beings rather than treated as any other average human.
To his father, Shouto was something to show off as his greatest achievement, a child with blood so much like the First Night Crawlers, his skin blistered at the faintest touch of sun and his body could only stand to function in the dead of night. To Shouto, it is more akin to a curse. In all honesty, he had always thought that was what vampires were born out of, and this just drove him to believe it more fervently.
During the day, he feels weak and weary, bedridden and having energy only for sleep, even when in a room cut off from all light. It is as if his very cells know it is day out, and no matter how much he tried to drag himself out from between his silk sheets in the past, all he managed was to crawl a few steps before collapsing miserably on the ground. It is true, at night, Shouto is more powerful than any known living vampires, able to topple even his own father without much effort despite him standing almost twice as tall as him. But he never wanted any part in his father’s plans to bring about a new Age of Darkness.
All he wanted was to be normal, to live a life free of these expectations that were thrust upon him by complete strangers, goaded by his father’s promises that Shouto never intended to keep. So, one cold night, he used this accursed power to flee from the man’s grasp, wanting to find quiet and calm in a place barely anyone remembered and sink into oblivion along with the sands of time slowly filling its dusty halls.
But as it turned out, even then, the house had not quite been abandoned, even if no truly living creature inhabited its walls.
Shouto had arrived just before the break of dawn, already feeling his energy draining with each second that passed and all but crashing onto the nearest surface far enough away from the windows that he wouldn’t be caught by the sun’s unforgiving rays. In retrospect, the house had seemed far too clean, smelled far too fresh, but Shouto was too busy shutting down to notice anything but the soft pads of bare feet on creaky floorboards, the hissed breath that sounded from above him, or the strong arms wrapping around him and carrying him to a bed.
It was only when the sun had long begun to sink into the horizon once more, waiting for the moon to take its place high in the sky, that Shouto managed to find enough clarity to make any sense of it though, eyes meeting with those of molten jade, wide and bright with a curiosity laced with a healthy dose of concern. Shouto remembers startling at the sight of the unfamiliar freckled face, of rubbing at tired eyes to make sure he was seeing it right and the young man standing in front of him was indeed slowly turning more and more transparent.
“Thank goodness!” He had said. “I was starting to worry you would never wake up! I don’t have much time left for today, but I hope we can talk more tomorrow!”
And just like that, he disappeared by the time the sun fully dipped the world in darkness.
Shouto soon found that the house, though forgotten by those who owned it, was indeed not neglected. Whoever that had been, they had taken good care of it since they had settled in, despite the outward appearance of the surrounding gardens. That was intentional as well, he came to learn, along with the man’s name and his peculiar condition, a clever cover so that he could spend his days undisturbed by those who stumbled upon these old walls.
Midoriya Izuku is the ghost of a young mage, one who tried fixing his incorporeal state and, though he did not quite fail, he seems to have only achieved his goal in part. In much the same way Shouto can’t bring himself to move when it’s light out, Izuku’s physical form cannot remain when the sun is gone from his reach. At night, Izuku finds himself fading back to his spiritual presence, unable to interact with the world around him no matter how hard he tries.
It would be a lie to say Shouto doesn’t sympathise with his ordeal. And though he may have been invading his family’s old manor to serve as his base while tries to decipher the mysteries of the jewel that gave him the ability to at least walk in the daylight and feel the warmth on his skin anew, Shouto could never find it in himself to imply he wasn’t welcome. Especially when that is very much not the case.
They get about an hour together, if they’re lucky, in those times in limbo when it’s not quite dark night and when the sun has yet to fully rise, and in between, one of them is lost to the world. Shouto suffers through the days buried under as many covers as he managed to find while Izuku finds himself lost beneath the veil that separates spirits from the world around them when night finally falls. But those minutes they share together, lost in conversation for as long as they are able, are without a doubt the best parts of Shouto’s waking moments.
On stormy days, Shouto feels like he can keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time, not quite managing to leave the relative comfort of his bed, but propping himself up in search of his ghostly housemate all the same in hopes they may share more than two conversations bathed in twilight. Yet on these exact days, Izuku finds himself faint and tired, barely holding on long enough to even say hi when he finally rises at dusk, and Shouto can’t help the pang of disappointment whenever he hears the pattering of rain late at night, no matter how much he used to love it before.
Each grey cloud threatening to burst means one less moment he gets to spend with Izuku, and when they already have so little, Shouto finds himself cursing them despite the way they ease his agony, if only just a little. For someone who has endured far too much pain, he would take any more anguish his accursed body would deem fit in the brightest days just so that he could spend more time listening to Izuku’s voice and watching as his face lights up when he speaks of his tireless research.
Shouto is not a mage; even if he wanted to be, he could never. Just as vampires, mages are creatures of their own, born into the ways of the occult and the magic that lies within everything. While some mages may not have a strong affinity to it, there is always a way to hone their skills, through hard work and perseverance, but not just anyone can wield magic. It needs to be in their blood.
Even so, Shouto tries his best dive into the piles upon piles of books Izuku had brought into the house with him, oftentimes forgetting to go out and feed until he is interrupted by his housemate’s image shimmering into existence when dawn begins to break.
“Shouto-kun!” He berates him, trying to shake his shoulders but not quite corporeal enough to be able to do much more than project his voice. “You’ve been at this all night! How many times have I told you to just leave it to me? You need to go about your life too.”
“I don’t have one.” Shouto tells him for what feels like the millionth time. “The one I had before wasn’t really what I would even call a life to begin with, so I left it behind.”
“So you keep saying.” Izuku sighs, dropping onto the floor and crossing his legs as he props his chin on his hands, pouting petulantly. “I’m the one trying to regain something that should already be lost to me, though. You shouldn’t lose the time you do have on something that is my responsibility.”
“I have no shortage of time. Despite its many shortcomings, being a pureblood vampire does come with some perks.” Shouto rubs at his temples, already feeling a headache coming from forcing himself to stay up longer than he should.
“You need to go to bed before you collapse.”
“And miss the chance to have you carry me?” Shouto jests, and Izuku gasps, feigning offence.
“I am no horse!”
Rather than give him a proper answer, Shouto simply chuckles, finally pushing the tome on the stand closed and running a hand over the back of his neck, stiff all over from standing all night pouring over these books. He twists on his heel, set on actually getting to bed before he loses his strength, but his knees give out from under him without warning, and Shouto tips forward. Instead of meeting cold hardwood floors, he falls into a solid chest, his vision spotting as his head falls limply over a broad shoulder, face slotted perfectly in the crook of Izuku’s neck. His skin is still rather cool, not yet having caught the sun to fill it with its warmth, but Shouto finds it comforting nonetheless, the scent of sunshine already invading his nose.
“Geez, you’re such a disaster, Shouto-kun.” Izuku mutters with a click of his tongue, but the smile is evident in his words, and despite his earlier complaint, he still picks Shouto’s legs off the floor and holds him close to his chest.
As Izuku carries him to his room, Shouto is struck with the notion that, in the entirety of his life, he has never felt as comfortable as he does in his arms. It’s a silly thought, when they haven’t even spent that much time together, all things considered. But even when he can’t see, or hear, or feel him, Shouto knows that Izuku is always there with him through the nights that he had expected would be lonely for as long as he had the resolve to endure them. And though he may crash every morning, spend the entire day in bed, knowing that Izuku is just a few rooms away helps him sleep easy when before he was constantly plagued with terrifying and disturbing dreams of twisted demons from his childhood.
No matter how he looks at it, despite the few exchanges they have had in the time after Shouto finally escaped into this home lost to the past, he knows that Izuku has thoroughly burrowed into his heart with no hopes of ever leaving. It fills him with a calm sense of joy unlike anything he has ever felt, and when he opens his eyes as Izuku lowers him onto the mattress, he can’t stop himself from reaching for his freckled face. He absentmindedly traces constellations with the pads of his fingers, connecting the countless dots over the background of sun-kissed skin and revelling in the somewhat dazed look in Izuku’s eyes as he stares into his own.
Blinking a few times, Izuku lets his mouth hang open slightly, his form faltering in the dim lighting that filters through the blinds in Shouto’s room. It’s usually enough for them to talk, but not so much for them to touch. Up until recently, Shouto had been satisfied with just that, relishing every second they got, however they got it, yet now he finds himself overcome with a need for more, cursing that damn jewel and his blood both for not allowing them the simple respite of a few more measly hours together.
Feeling exhaustion taking its toll, Shouto falls onto the bed with a frustrated groan, running his hands through his dishevelled hair and mussing it even further. Brow furrowing in concern, Izuku uses what little time he has left until he goes back into the sun to brush some locks away from Shouto’s eyes before his fingers slip right through him. Letting out a little sigh, Izuku steps away, dragging himself closer to the window and sapping what few rays manage to sneak into the room.
“You overdid it again.”
For a few heartbeats, all the answer Shouto gives him is a little hum, staring up at the ceiling with a deep, steadying breath. “I can’t help it if I want to be able to touch you just a while longer.”
He only realises what he actually said once the words are long gone from his lips, but he can’t find the energy to take them back, correct them in a way that may makes him sound less needy. After so many years not knowing what it’s like to feel a caring touch, however, Shouto thinks he may be allowed to feel a little starved. Though, rather than brush him off with a chuckle or even comment on how inappropriate that sounds, Izuku simply smiles at him when Shouto lets his gaze fall back onto him.
“I’m working on it.” He assures.
Shouto’s lids grow too heavy too fast, last night’s exertion catching up to him, and he only hears Izuku’s soft ‘sleep well’ as he walks out of the room, his steps woefully silent when his feet don’t quite connect with the ground. When he opens his eyes next, his body is still beyond heavy and his mind fuzzy, but Shouto still lifts himself off the bed with a groan, looking around for any signs of Izuku.
Usually, he is there to greet him when the day is coming to an end, welcoming him back to consciousness with an inviting smile and a few cheeky words that never fail to quirk the corners of Shouto’s own lips. The room is rather dark, and Shouto wonders for a moment if he overslept, his body making up for his neglect the night before; he really needs to feed soon, unless he wants to suffer the consequences. Were he on his own, he probably wouldn’t have cared at all, but with Izuku around, things are different. For once in his life, he actually wants to take care of himself, live to see another twilight lit up by someone much brighter than the sun could ever hope to be.
Feeling some of his strength slowly returning, Shouto kicks the covers off his legs, sliding to the side of the bed as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. With a bit of effort, he manages to get to his feet, walking to the window and carefully tugging the blinds open to peek outside. From the looks of the darkening sky down east, the sun should be starting to set right about now. Humming, Shouto grabs at one of the blankets to wrap himself with it, pulling the edge over his eyes as he braves the rest of the house, one step at a time.
The stairs creak loudly beneath his feet as he makes his way to the study, avoiding the light that still shines through, all the windows open to allow Izuku to suck as much of it up as he needs to wander freely. Shouto keeps to the darker corners, hissing whenever he steps a little too close to the sun warming the floorboards and trying to make himself even smaller, huddling under the safety of his makeshift cloak.
By the time he reaches the room where Izuku spends most of his time, he seems to be readying to leave, closing one of his journals with a sigh before stretching his back with a little high-pitched noise that brings a fond smile to Shouto’s lips. The jewel sits perched next to the large book Izuku had been studying—something about gemstones and magical affinity, if he is seeing it correctly—, twinkling in that strange way that magical items tend to do. His eyes had always been sensitive to objects with power trapped within, capable of seeing the intricate patterns the energy imbued within them left on their surface, but alas, knowing something holds power sadly doesn’t mean he can unlock its secrets.
The jewel seems to tremble when Izuku brushes his fingers over them for a beat before turning around, startling with a gasp when he sees the amorph heap that is Shouto standing bundled up by the door. He blinks a few times, dumbstruck, then his brow furrows in concern as he approaches, mouth curving into a frown that Shouto absently notes looks impossibly out of place on his face.
“Shouto-kun, you should still be in bed. Especially after last night!”
At first, Shouto shrugs, quickly realising that the gesture may have been lost in his improvised protective gear and clicking his tongue instead.
“I felt like I could move, so I did.” He offers, no intention of explaining himself any further or offering any excuses.
As he walks past Izuku, the blanket dragging behind him like a clichéd dark cape, Shouto hears him huff in frustration, yet following after him instead of continuing to argue.
“Did you find anything useful today?”
Izuku crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling through his nose as he hangs his head slightly. Not needing to hear anything else, Shouto nods his acknowledgement, skimming through the text and gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he pokes his arm out from under the blanket and brings his hand over to the yellowed pages. His gaze flickers towards Izuku when he moves a little closer still, standing on the tips of his toes to look over his shoulder at the passages he has no doubt been staring at for hours on end.
“It’s always the same. I managed to link with the stone to get to this point, but anything further than that is just a shot in the dark. I’ve tried everything to extend the effects, to enhance its powers, but I just can’t seem to figure it out.” Izuku places a hand over Shouto’s, drawing his gaze away from the words and into those deep, viridian eyes, breath catching in his throat at the warmth of his touch slowly fading along with the sunlight. “I’m doing everything I can. I want to see results as much as you, trust me.”
Shouto gets lost in the depths of his eyes, his grip on the blanket loosening and letting it slip down his head, pooling below his shoulders. Izuku’s hand runs up his arm, bumps rising over his flesh wherever his fingertips brush and sending a shiver crawling down his spine. His lids flutter when Izuku shuffles closer still, leaning into him and shortening the gap between them. All of Shouto’s thoughts cease for a moment as his mind fills with only the entrancing quiver of Izuku’s lower lip as he sucks in a stuttered breath, his own eyes hooding as his fingers curl around the fabric bunched over his arm tugging him down just a little more.
Though, when Shouto reaches the rest of the way, giving in to the soft pleas of his heart he had been brushing off until now, his lips touch nothing more than cold air, the weight of Izuku’s hand over his elbow lifting as it phases through him instead. Shouto jolts away, stuck between apologising and letting out a disappointed whine, but cutting off with a hiss when he slices his finger with the edges of the book’s pages, recoiling as fast as he can manage to not bleed onto the parchment.
A drop still falls onto the jewel, sizzling and evaporating in the blink of an eye, and Shouto’s brow knots at the sight of its energy shifting for barely a second. He doesn’t get to focus on it for long though, Izuku’s worried voice calling in alarm as he tries desperately to reach for Shouto’s hand, his shoulders slumping when he once again slips right past him.
“It’s okay,” Shouto murmurs, bringing the finger to his lips and licking at the trickle of blood. “I need to feed anyway.”
“That doesn’t count.” Izuku pouts, looking like he wants to shove him but knowing very well he can’t. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, it’s just a paper cut, Izuku. It’s not the end of the world.”
With a somewhat irritated huff, Izuku juts out his bottom lip. “If you say so.”
If he’s honest, Shouto hopes the annoyance isn’t really about his dismissal of his worries. Or at least, not for that alone. Still, he keeps the thought to himself, continuing to savour the taste of iron on his tongue.
“I do say so.” Shouto mumbles around his index, watching the furrow of Izuku’s brow increase along with his desire to press it down with his thumb. His eyes flicker back to the jewel for a beat, seeing the glint of its energy shift in the same way it always does. “Earlier, did you see—”
“Hmm?”
“Never mind.” Shouto sinks into a chair, resting his chin on his hand and smiling up at Izuku. “Dusk won’t last much longer now.”
“Yeah… Feels shorter every time.” Izuku sighs wistfully, closing and opening his fists in front of his face before glancing at Shouto once more. “About what happened—or didn’t, I guess…” Izuku trails off, shifting his weight awkwardly as he moves to hug himself.
Perhaps it’s just his imagination, but Shouto thinks there is a faint glow over his cheeks, a pink tinge to the translucent skin as he stares at a far corner of the room as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Shouto doesn’t press him, simply waiting until he finds the words or fades beneath the veil; whichever comes first. It would be rude to interrupt his thoughts, he believes, especially when Izuku’s expression is so breath-taking when the cogs are turning in his head. When he doesn’t get to see it that often, or even that long, Shouto just wants to appreciate the scenery for however long he is allowed.
“Shouto-kun, I want to touch you longer too, you know that, right?” Izuku finally breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. Their eyes meet when he turns to him once more, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin of his lip, tempting, teasing. “Before, I was just trying to get a corporeal form for my own sake, but now… now I…”
As the minutes tick by and night draws nearer, Shouto’s energy grows, the exhaustion leaving his body and seemingly sinking into Izuku’s. The chair drags when he rises to his feet, the blanket fully sliding down his shoulders and crumpling at his feet before he rounds the table to where Izuku still stands, hugging himself. Shouto wants to let his fingers travel up the column of his throat, tracing the edge of his jaw and tipping his chin upwards just a little. But he simply looks into those pools of jade, drowning in them for what feels like a small eternity and watching the light dim within them as he keeps dissolving into the background.
“I felt I didn’t even have a purpose before. Now, I find myself leaving bed every night for one reason only.” He confesses, gaze softening with an adoration that stems from deep in his soul. “So, I know what you mean.”
Izuku’s tender smile is the last thing he sees before the last slivers of light give way to unforgiving darkness, leaving behind the empty air where he once stood. Somewhere in the woods, those who also travel only under the light of the moon begin to crawl from the safety of their homes. Casually rubbing at his burning throat, Shouto lingers for a few moments still, feeling Izuku’s presence right in front of him, just out of his reach.
“I’ll be back soon. Wait for me?” He chuckles lightly at himself and waves a dismissive hand as he turns to the door, giving the apparently empty room one last look before hunting for a long-overdue meal.
While most people tend to say that nightfall brings an eerie quiet with it, moving into the woods, Shouto learned that the night could be just as lively as the days that came before it, perhaps even more. Night life in the city doesn’t compare to the feeling of a cool breeze on his skin, bringing with it a million and one scents that invade his lungs with just one whiff. Perhaps that was why vampires of old surrounded themselves with nature, staying in the comfort of their large castles and mansions, yet tasting life in one breath of fresh air just outside their door.
For most humans, night was nothing more than the end of a day. For Shouto, it was the beginning of waking nightmares under his father’s scrutiny. Now, they are finally starting to feel like freedom. If only he could properly share it with Izuku…
If he wants to feel truly satisfied, fulfilled with the path he chose after years of struggling with his inner demons, he will have to do everything in his power to help Izuku get what he wants, what he deserves. His time was cut too short, but he still clung to the threads of life and moved past the limits the universe thrust upon him. Shouto merely sat resigned to his fate for the longest time, only taking it into his own hands in the foolish hope that he might have peace in solitude until he got the mercy Izuku was cursed with.
Finding Izuku helped lessen the burden he carried, it gave him hope of a future not so bleak, of a light at the end of the dark tunnel that had been his life. Though he may never really bask in the sun, Shouto has learned to enjoy the moonlight until he can lay eyes on Izuku once more. If he is a little bit selfish in wanting their time together to grow longer, he likes to think that he is also repaying Izuku for giving him the strength to find a purpose.
He arrives back at the house with a newfound resolve, diving right back into the books and taking notes almost as thorough as Izuku’s. Recently fed and with the moon and stars gazing down upon him, Shouto once again spends the entire night with his face buried between yellowed pages, scrunching his nose at the dust stirring from the oldest shelves and organising a merciless attack upon his person. But he pushes down the urge to sneeze, focusing his blurring vision on the words and compiling source upon source on the magical attributes of each and every gemstone known to Man and beyond.
Even if none of it makes sense to him, it might prove useful to Izuku once he is out and about, cutting down on his research time so that he can get one step closer to a solution.
Sunrise is still about an hour away when he closes the last book from his most recent raid to the shelves, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking at the tomes scattered all over the table. As he returns them to their rightful place, his gaze drifts to the one Izuku had been reading that afternoon, the jewel still sitting on the stand beside one of its corners, glimmering in the moonlight.
Swiping his thumb over where he felt the paper slice into his finger, Shouto drags his feet over to the bookstand. He had held the jewel many times before and nothing had ever happened so if he just…
Shouto picks up the gem, holding it up to the light and focus on the glow of its power. He brushes the surface with the pads of his fingers, tilting his head when he notices a shift the moment he passes the spot where his blood had fallen.
“Izuku, are you seeing this?” He asks the wind, narrowing his eyes at the stone.
What did you do to it? Izuku’s voice whispers in his ear and he startles, nearly dropping the jewel as he twists on his heel and looks around frantically.
“I-I bled on it?”
Wait, you heard that?
Shouto stares down at the gem in his hand carefully turning it and watching for any reactions. Every time he touches that one spot, he catches snippets of Izuku’s ramblings, as if his lips are pressed to his ear and speaking them right into his skull, but when he simply holds it gingerly to the light, the room is once again rendered silent but for the forest’s symphony just outside the window.
Without another moment to lose, Shouto sits at the table with a journal in front of him, keeping his hand on the jewel as he relays his findings then doing his best to listen to Izuku’s incessant rant, writing down as much as he can as fast as he is able. But the longer it goes on, the quieter his voice gets, as if he is slowly getting further and further away and Shouto pauses with his pen over the paper, panic rising within him at the thought that this might only be temporary.
Is something wrong? Izuku asks after a moment, stopping dead in his own tracks as Shouto strains to even hear those words.
“It’s… fading.” He laments, his chest squeezing painfully and his grip tightening on the stone in return.
Frustration takes over him and he jumps to his feet with a growl, pacing the room until he stops back by the bookstand, leaning his weight on it once he drops the jewel between the book’s pages. He can almost feel Izuku’s hand on the small of his back from his thoughts alone, imagining him rubbing comforting circles as he leans in close. It’s all in his head though; even if Izuku really were trying to do just that, he can feel nothing but the slightly chilly, stale air of the room, hear nothing but his own breaths, stuttered on their way out as he feels the flash of hope snuffing out.
Running a hand through his hair, Shouto picks up the stone again, glaring icy daggers at it as if that would somehow will it into working again, whatever it was it had been doing to begin with. When bathed in the moon’s dimming light, he daresay it even looks beautiful, mocking him with its pretty patterns as the energy flows steadily, unchanging.
“Playing with a man’s heart like that is cruel, you know?” Shouto curses under his breath, holding the jewel in his clenched fist.
Tell me about it. Izuku agrees, his voice as strong as the first time he heard it in his ear and just as clear too.
Shouto blinks, confused, mouth hanging open in stupefaction as he tries to make sense of it all and comes up short of any logical explanation. Izuku asks if something changed, and all he can really do is nod, not knowing what to say when he asks how and just walking back to the table once more. For now, he focuses on Izuku’s words for as long as they last, his pen scratching an uneven line across the journal when he goes silent once more. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Shouto sighs, straightening his posture and looking on to the brightening sky in the horizon.
As the energy begins to waver inside him, Shouto forces himself to his feet this time, leaving the jewel where Izuku had and traipsing to his bedroom before the daylight starts invading the house. While being carried back to bed sounded just as heavenly now as it had the day before, Shouto feels like Izuku might want to get right back to the books as soon as he can. So, he slumps into the mattress of his own accord, eyes fixed on the spot by the window where the sun will begin to poke its rays through.
Despite the up and down of his emotions earlier, he still feels the corners of his mouth quirk into a grin when Izuku comes into view, his head tilted as he raises an eyebrow at him.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” Shouto mutters, curling in on himself as he starts to feel heavier and heavier. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help tonight.”
“Are you kidding me?” An annoyed roll of Izuku’s eyes contrasts greatly with the wide grin stretched across his face, and Shouto can’t help but chuckle. “You have no idea how much this helps. I don’t want to be too optimistic but maybe…”
His expression seems to glow with excitement, and he jumps onto the bed, shaking it for that split second when he still can. Sprawling on the bed, Izuku reaches for Shouto’s face, fingers gingerly running over his cheek despite never really touching. His smile wobbles and Shouto’s mirrors it, Izuku’s enthusiasm proving more than a little infectious.
“I might need some of your blood, if you don’t mind.”
Nodding, Shouto pulls the covers over his head, voice muffled when he responds. “Open the window and take as much as you need.”
He peeks from beneath the sheets at Izuku skittering outside, returning with a small dagger and a tiny vial, paired with a sheepish expression as he drops them on the bed before moving to the window and pulling the blinds open, soaking up the sunlight. Shouto huddles further, groaning lowly at the phantom pain already rearing its ugly head.
A quiet apology slips from Izuku’s lips as he kneels by his bedside, hand snaking underneath the covers. Their fingers lace together, Izuku’s thumb brushing over the back of his hand before pulling it to the edge of the mattress, turning his palm up. Shouto remains hidden under the duvet, not daring to even sneak a peek outside when his skin is already tingling uncomfortably just from Izuku holding his hand out in the well-lit room. Soft lips press over his palm for little more than a second, setting Shouto’s heart to racing from the feather-light touch, breath catching in his throat at the sensation, Izuku’s smile obvious in the short-lived gesture.
“This might hurt a little.” Izuku warns, and Shouto hisses when he feels the blade slide across his palm.
Tilting his hand carefully, Izuku squeezes it into a fist, the blood trickling down into the vial, sticky and slimy, but Shouto endures it. Besides, the way Izuku gently wipes the excess from his hand before neatly tying a bandage around it to staunch the bleeding until his healing kicks in, placing another tender kiss on his palm once he’s done, is more than enough of a reward for the mild discomfort. Lingering for a few beats longer, Izuku climbs onto the mattress once Shouto returns his arm close to his chest, lying beside him and resting his hand atop his head over the covers.
“Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble. I’m sure you will make good use of it.” Shouto whispers, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage when Izuku scoots closer still, much like he had the former evening.
The only difference is that Shouto can’t see him now, can’t feel his skin brush against his own. But when their foreheads touch, only the thick fabric between them, this time Shouto doesn’t hesitate to lean up and close the distance. Shouto doesn’t quite know what to call this, especially when it barely lasts a full two seconds, but it fills his chest with warmth all the same, his stomach exploding with a swarm of fluttering butterflies as he hears Izuku let out breathy sigh. The bed shifts when free of Izuku’s weight as he moves to close the blinds again, and Shouto catches sight of his back when he shuffles out with the vial in hand.
Shouto has half a mind to just give in to sleep then, but he waits just a bit longer, hoping to see those wild curls and bright eyes for just a few minutes longer. And when Izuku pads into the room once more, a wobbly smile making its home on his lips, Shouto’s soul feels full for what seems like the very first time.
“I just… wanted to say sleep well.” Izuku twiddles his thumbs, balancing on the balls of his feet. “I’ll see you again tonight. And… yeah. Bye.”
“I’ll miss you.” Shouto calls after him, stopping him just short of leaving.
Scratching at his cheek, Izuku nods, a little more to himself than Shouto, he thinks. “Make sure you dream of me, then.”
Somehow, Shouto manages to do just that, spending the next few hours surrounded by lush greens bathed in sunlight, strong arms wrapped around him and enveloping him with a nurturing warmth he honestly can’t remember feeling before meeting Izuku. Perhaps he had, once, decades ago. But even in a dream, it feels like more than just a faded memory, actually within his reach.
And when he takes hold of it, Shouto won’t ever let go.
“Shouto-kun.” The sweetest voice he never thought he would hear whispers beside him, breath tickling the shell of his ear.
Forcing his lids open, Shouto notes the open blinds, letting in the last of the sun’s efforts and keeping Izuku beside him for longer than he might otherwise. He pushes himself to a sitting position, yawning as he senses his energy stronger than he thought it might be.
“Did I oversleep?”
“Just a little.” Izuku confirms with a shrug, but before Shouto can protest him not waking him up earlier, he dangles something between their faces. “I made you something.”
The jewel hangs from a ribbon like a pendant, still shining in that same way it does until Shouto takes it in his hand. At his touch, the energy swirls and trembles, not just where his blood had dripped onto but all over. Shouto stares at Izuku, looking for an answer to the countless questions suddenly swimming in his mind, but rather than give him anything tangible, Izuku uses the last few minutes of his corporeal form to sit beside him and take the jewel to the base of his throat and tying the ribbon around it. It sits snuggly on his neck, like a choker, the stone slotting between his collarbones and feeling comfortably warm against his skin.
“What’s this for?”
“Well, we’ll see if I’m right once the sun sets.” Izuku answers cryptically, but Shouto doesn’t press further, watching in disappointment as Izuku begins to fade already. “Can you do me a favour once you’re up?”
“Of course.”
“Go outside and stare up at the moon.”
“Why?”
“Just do it for me?”
Pouting slightly, Shouto nods, frowning when Izuku finally disappears with the daylight, his room dark and lonely without his obvious presence. With a short sigh, Shouto drags himself out of bed, hand reaching for the gem and playing with it as he slowly makes his way downstairs and to the front door, stopping to put on some shoes before venturing into the cold night air.
The stars are already speckling the dark sky, the full moon large and unobstructed, its light licking softly at his skin. He hadn’t taken a moment to appreciate its gentle beauty in a while, it’s true, always too focused on either Izuku’s research of the stone or feeding, lately. It’s a gorgeous night to do so, he will admit to that, but that can’t have been why Izuku wanted him here.
And as he is lost in his thoughts, arms snake around his waist from behind, startling a gasp out of him as he cranes his neck in alarm. He inadvertently inhales a handful of wild curls, pulling back when a sneeze crawls its way out of him without warning. The grip around him tightens, a peck left behind on the sensitive skin of his neck, and Shouto feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest, trembling hands reaching for the ones curling around the front of his shirt.
“I-Izuku?”
“Mm…” He smiles against his throat, a lilting laugh bubbling in his own. “It works… Gods above, it actually works.”
“How…” Shouto utters, breathless, his eyes prickling with the threat of tears.
“Moonlight is just reflected sunlight, right? You can’t withstand direct sunlight, yet the moon’s dimmer reflection actually makes you stronger. With your blood and your touch, the gemstone can also absorb it, amplify it… and as long as those conditions are satisfied, you can hear me, you can smell me, you can touch me…”
“Just me?”
“Just you.”
“But Izuku, that’s—”
“More than enough.” Izuku interrupts, twisting Shouto in his arms and framing his face with his hands.
Before he can say anything else, Izuku pulls him down into a kiss, their lips finally connected and moving in unison once and for all. Any manner of complaints Shouto may have had in regard to this discovery’s details turn to ash on his tongue, mouth parting to let Izuku’s inside and savour his sweet taste instead. They only break apart when Shouto’s lungs are burning with a need for oxygen, foreheads still pressed together and breaths mingling between them.
“We can figure out if the effects can be extended later. We can figure out if they may eventually be able to help you too. But for now, this is enough, Shouto. This is enough.”
Noses rubbing against one another as he nods his understanding, Shouto doesn’t wait to fully recover before diving for his lips anew, greedily stealing his own breath to make up for it. Izuku is right. However long it takes for them to make any more progress, this is enough. Not just enough, this is a blessing, pure bliss. And Shouto sure won’t let another moment go to waste now that he can finally hold him in return for as long as the moon continues to glow.