Chapter Text
The first time he saw him was in his apartment.
Shouto’s friends had dragged him along to a party at Bakugou’s friend’s house. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had ended up here, outside of a stranger’s door in the dead of night with a handful of his classmates from high school, but he knew he was going to regret it.
When he had moved away for college, he just kind of expected that he’d never see any of his high school classmates again. Shouto visited home almost every weekend, mostly to see his mom, but nobody had said much to him since graduation. But more and more lately, he’s been getting calls from Kirishima and Kaminari with invitations to some stranger’s house. This was the first time he had accepted, mostly because he just wanted them to stop asking. There was no way he wanted to make this a routine.
That is, until he saw who the stranger was.
His friends hadn’t told him any details about where they were going or who was hosting, only that it would be a quiet night of drinking and board games at Bakugou’s friend’s apartment. They didn’t bother to tell him that the host was gorgeous. Anyone else might think he was a little plain, but Shouto has always had a weakness for freckles. His emerald hair was a curly mess, but that somehow worked for him.
Shouto was mesmerized.
The boy reached out his arms to hug his seemingly good friend, Bakugou. Shouto never thought Bakugou was all that close to anyone except Kirishima. It was strange to see him so open to affection.
As each friend walked single file through the door, greeting the host along the way, Shouto could only stand and stare, his mouth slightly ajar.
“If you stay out here like that, you’ll catch flies, you know.”
Shouto snapped out of it to see Kirishima standing at the door leaning on the doorframe, the green haired boy already back inside to see what games Denki had thrown onto the coffee table.
“Oh, right, sorry, I spaced out there for a second.”
Kirishima laughed in response and looked at him knowingly before nudging him into the apartment with the band of idiots he came with.
“Look who finally decided to join the party,” Bakugou remarked with a roll of his eyes.
Shouto cleared his throat into his sleeve to expel the vast amount of embarrassment making a home in his chest. This was going to be a long night if he can’t get his thirst for freckles under control. To test his limits, Shouto chanced a glance at the host. And what a mistake that was. The boy was laughing next to Kaminari and Sero who were in the middle of one of their ridiculous betting matches. Cheese strung adorably from the host’s mouth to a piece of peperoni pizza and Shouto decided that the flush creeping up his own neck was a sign that he was somehow already in too deep.
Shouto opted to sit on the floor on a cushion that Midoriya caringly placed for his friends. He pieced together that the boy’s name was Midoriya from overhearing Ochako’s nervous chatter with Tsuyu. Shouto’s not the only one who can’t control himself around those freckles, apparently.
It took two rounds of beers and pizza, twenty minutes of catching up, another twenty minutes of arguing about which game to play, and a particularly dangerous rock paper scissors match between Kaminari and Bakugou to pick a game. And after all of that, all they could come up with was some basic word game. Shouto wondered how this was going to go, knowing that most of the guests here were not the greatest spellers, save for Bakugou. He’s read enough of their papers to know that. And it didn’t help that they were all a few rounds in at this point and if Shouto was feeling tipsy, they were, too. He wasn’t sure who even picked the game (probably Bakugou), but here he was, so he might as well kick some ass.
Shouto was right that everyone sucked at the game. He was also right that Bakugou was not terrible, but not as good as himself, much to the blond’s chagrin. What he was not expecting, however, is how good Midoriya would be at the game. He racked up an insane amount of points with every turn, giving Shouto a run for his money. The game progressed with the two neck and neck, each of their adversaries dropping out with each turn. At last it was only the two of them, both lost in thought on how to best their opponent. Shouto smirked as he placed a word down that he was sure would land him the win. He looked up to see determined green eyes looking back at him.
Green eyes met heterochromatic ones. “Have you given up yet, pretty boy?” The seemingly kind boy had a competitive side, which just riled Shouto up even further. He chose to file “pretty boy” away for an overthinking session scheduled for later tonight.
“Not a chance, freckles.” Shouto knew he was nearly out of turns and he was holding on for dear life, but he feigned confidence.
It was Midoriya’s turn now, and Shouto found himself almost sweating from anticipation. As Midoriya placed what had to be his final word down, Shouto knew he was screwed. There was no way to recover from this.
It hurt to say it but,
“I think you won, freckles.”
The whole room cheered with buzzed glee, Midoriya earning some borderline violent congratulatory slaps on the back. One of the slaps from Denki missed and ended up knocking Sero’s half-full Solo cup onto the game board. The room stared down at the mini-disaster in dead silence, unsure of what to make of it within their beer and pizza induced brain fog.
Finally, Sero was the first to break into a roaring laughter, only able to squeak out a “Dude what the fuck?” between laughs. Everyone else decided it was pretty hilarious, too, bringing the volume of the room to new heights. Shouto even laughed with his hand held up to his mouth, a habit from childhood that he had never quite broken.
Midoriya was the first to realize that there was beer dripping down onto his carpet. “Oh shit, let me get some paper towels!”
Shouto found himself getting up with the host to help. He never liked to sit idly by while trouble was afoot, even if it was just a spilt beer. And maybe he wanted a moment to explain to the boy that his name is not “pretty boy” and is in fact Shouto Todoroki. Or maybe none of that matters and he could deal with being called pretty boy for the rest of his life by the prettiest boy he’s ever seen.
No matter the reason, he followed Midoriya to the kitchen, even though he insisted it wasn’t necessary. Even so, Shouto held out his hand when Midoriya pulled the paper towels off the roll.
Shouto had to say something quick or he’d look like a fool.
“I’ll clean it. They’re my idiot friends.”
Midoriya looked up at him with the kindest expression Shouto had even had the pleasure of seeing. “They’re my friends too!”
“Regardless, let me do this for you. For being such a great host.” Nailed it.
He could see a slight blush on the boy’s face, causing a similar reaction in his own. Man, he was pretty.
“Great host? But I didn’t-“
A knocking of glass against wood and another set of screaming laughter boomed from the living room.
“Oi! They fucking did it again! Stop fucking flirting in there and get some paper towels!”
Midoriya’s flush brightened exponentially alongside Shouto’s, but at least he was able to get a response out.
“Oh my gosh, I’m coming, Kaachan!
Maybe he’ll get to tell him his name later.
The night went on without incident, not a single beer was harmed after Kaminari was exiled to sit on the couch behind Sero, effectively moving him away from the table. They cycled through a few board games but decided to end the night by hooking up Kirishima’s switch and playing some Mario Kart.
Shouto nestled himself between Kirishima and Ochako on the couch, a little closer than he’d normally be comfortable with, but the gentle buzz in his head tells him it’s ok tonight. Just as Shouto’s about to question why Kaminari gets to use the only pro controller, Midoriya and Bakugou come in with the hands full of snacks, a much-appreciated gesture from the crowd.
Kaminari is maybe the most thankful, “Ohhhh shit, daddy, you know what baby likes”.
In between snorts, Sero scolds him, “Dude, you can’t just go around calling other people’s boyfriends ‘daddy’”.
Kirishima jumps in with a wide grin, “Yeah man, you know that I’m the only daddy around here”.
A painfully obvious blush flashes across the ash blond’s face. “DO YOU SHITHEADS EVER SHUT THE FUCK UP?”
“Come over here and shut me up, babe.”
That one earned a collective groan from the audience.
Within the rustling of Bakugou literally throwing the snacks at their friends and sitting next to his boyfriend and Midoriya politely handing out his share, Shouto realized there was no place for Midoriya to sit. But just as he was about to get up and offer his seat, Kirishima beat him to it.
“Oh shit, Midoriya, there’s no room for you, you can take my spot. I’ll just sit in Bakubro’s lap”.
That was really nice of Kirishima, Shouto thought. Until he really thought about it.
If Kirishima gets up and moves over one space away from Shouto, that leaves an empty space next to Shouto. And if there is an empty space next to Shouto, then a boy named Midoriya (who Shouto has decided is the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen in his life) will sit next to Shouto, as there are no other options that are not next to Shouto. And this particular spot next to Shouto will force them way too close for comfort. Shouto might short-circuit.
“Todoroki, are you ok?” Of course, Tsuyu sees straight through his gay panic.
“Yeah, thank you for asking.” He was decidedly not ok, but he couldn’t just say that.
It’s no big deal that the boy he’s been pining over all night will be smooshed against his side for the remainder of the party, it’s just a matter of convenience.
But it honestly feels like a big deal to Shouto who’s been touch-starved since his best friend (and the only person allowed to touch Shouto) got a girlfriend and is never around anymore.
Midoriya shimmies his way to the spot next to Shouto, their shoulders flush against each other and their thighs just daring to mingle if one of them were to relax just a little. Midoriya turns his head and stares up at him with blaringly emerald eyes that are faintly hooded from the sleepiness of alcohol and slightly parted pink lips that look like they’re about to say something.
Fuck.
His lips finally formed words, effectively allowing Shouto’s heart to resume beating, “Your name is Todoroki?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well, nice to meet you Todoroki. I’m Midoriya, but I’m sure someone told you that.” They didn’t. “It’s funny, I was starting to get afraid to ask who you are, considering you’ve been in my apartment all night and I didn’t even know your name.”
Shouto was drunk, there was no getting around it, but what he said next was way out of left field.
“I mean, ‘pretty boy’ is good.”
FUCK.
Ochako did a spit take at that, being the only one close enough besides Midoriya to hear it, earning a curious laughter from the rest of the group. Ochako was more embarrassed than Shouto, it seemed, and she waved her hands erratically with wide eyes, insisting that nothing happened.
Midoriya stuttered next to him for a moment, hands waving in near unison with Ochako, earning more confusion from their friends. Thankfully, no one pushed it.
Finally, the green haired boy squeaked out, “It’s so rude to not call you by name when I know it, though!”
Shouto sipped at the pathetic remains of his beer, hoping the red on his face would dissipate. “Hm, I guess you’re right. Does that mean I can call you Midoriya? Or will Freckled Jesus be more appropriate?”
Somehow, the host’s eyes widened further and his face reddened to an even deeper hue, “Freckled, what?”
“You know, you have freckles. And you’re stupid nice. Jesus was probably nice. Freckled Jesus.”
The green haired boy let out another squeak and a clumsy set of waving hands. “Midoriya is fine!”
A few rounds into Mario Kart, Midoriya started falling asleep on the couch. He nearly ran himself off the road trying to stay awake at the wheel. Noticing this, Bakugou took a stand.
“Oi, Deku, you’re a tired mess. Go the fuck to bed.”
Midoriya yawned into his hand, “But this is my house, I can’t just leave you all here.”
“The fuck you can’t. I’ll lock up when we leave. Kirishima just has to kick all of your asses this round then we can get the fuck out.”
Kirishima smiles up from his lap, “Aww thanks, babe!”
“Yeah, yeah, get up fatty, I have to take this sleepy idiot to bed or he won’t go”. With that, Bakugou begins pushing his boyfriend off his lap, earning a sad groan from the redhead. Bakugou yanks the controller out of Midoriya’s hands and throws it into Shouto’s lap, almost landing it directly into the solo cup that Shouto had been nursing for the past half-hour.
“Come on, Deku, let’s go tuck your stupid ass into bed. Say goodnight to the idiot brigade.”
Sleepy Midoriya might be cuter than regular Midoriya, Shouto decides. But he also gets a pang in his chest that tells him that he wishes he were the one who Midoriya was groaning at because he didn’t want to go to bed yet. He wants to be the one completely ignoring the half-asleep boy and lifting him off the couch bridle-style like Bakugou is doing right now. Did they do this often? Shouto pretends to care about the game in front of him, but all he can think of is how this might be the last time he ever sets foot in this apartment, the last time he ever sees Midoriya. He will never get the chance to be even a fraction as close to him as Bakugou is right now. And yet there’s nothing he can do to make this night last just a little while longer.
He’s pulled out of his drunken thoughts by Midoriya’s sleepy but sing-songy voice.
“Goodnight, idiot brigade!”
“Goodnight, Izuku!” Responds the idiot brigade. At least they know their place in this world.
Everyone thanks the host as Bakugou carries Midoriya out of the room, closing the book to Shouto’s short-lived potential love life. And by the time Bakugou comes out with empty arms, Kirishima had, in fact, kicked all of their asses at Mario Kart, closing the book on the night, as well.
As they filed back out into the darkness of the cold winter night and down the street toward home, Shouto couldn’t help but keep his eyes low, staring intently at the ground beneath his moving feet. Maybe he could see Midoriya again if he just put in a little extra effort to see his old friends. If he comes back home next weekend and gets an invite from Kaminari again, he just might not turn it down. If he’s really lucky, then Midoriya will be there, as well. He’d suffer through a million high school reunions just on the off chance that his Freckled Jesus would be there.
“So, same time next week, guys?” Shouto comes out of his thoughts to recognize Kirishima stopping in front of his and Bakugou’s front door and talking. “Next week, Midoriya wanted to do a hot pot, so bring food”.
An electric shock sent through Shouto’s spine. And suddenly his mind was filled with conversations he could have with Midoriya next week.
Next week.
After everyone affirmed that they would put what they’re bringing in the group chat (which Shouto suddenly wants to be apart of) they went their separate ways and Shouto walked the final stretch to his mom’s apartment.
The day was long, longer than Shouto would normally appreciate, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face. There was no one around to see it in the darkness of his mother’s living room, but it was embarrassing, nonetheless. Normally, he could fall asleep in an instant but tonight he could barely close his eyes. Like a teenage boy, all he could think about is a smattering of freckles partially hidden under wild emerald hair.
How the fuck was he supposed to make it through until the next time he’s in that apartment?