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Shoto wasn't used to being intimate.
Nothing sexual--no, neither of them were quite ready for that. It was just lips on lips, hot breath, keeping close and quiet in the dark. Just each other, alone, in Midoriya's dorm room.
Soft touches were foreign. He cringed or flinched sometimes, especially when the touches were light and brief--heavy bumps somehow were less startling.
This is why the brush of Midoriya's fingertips on his arms made his skin crawl, but the feeling of being pulled down by the shoulders made him forget.
He rested his hands on Midoriya's hips. Was this okay? Was he making him uncomfortable? He didn't mean anything by it--it was just the only place he could really put them. He wasn't a leader when it came to these things--he didn't know anything about it. About what was acceptable, what was "good" or "bad." He just knew what Midoriya did, what he allowed, what he asked for.
Midoriya pulled them backwards and sat on the bed. He gripped the collar of Shoto's shirt--this was awkward, Shoto was bending down in a way that hurt now. Would it be rude to pull away? No, this is painful, he had to do something. He knelt down and sat on his heels, now being the shorter one. Midoriya simply giggled--he must be amused at finally being taller.
"Don't worry so much about doing something wrong," he pulled back and removed his hands. Shoto copied the action.
You don't understand, he thought. I could hurt you if I'm not careful. I don't know how to do this. I don't want to make your stomach sick. I don't want to scare you.
Midoriya's gentle smile somehow never left his face. Shoto didn't understand. Smiles rarely came to him naturally, and he often found that his face or tone didn't match the way he felt inside. Maybe, if they did, he would smile too?
"You're always tense. Try to relax..." Midoriya rubbed his shoulders, but Shoto only tensed up more. Was he ruining this? He had no idea how to fix it. Was he just broken somehow?
"Take a deep breath," the freckled boy prompted. "Focus on something that makes you feel better."
Shoto glanced at his eyes and then looked away again. They were pretty. Looking too long made him nervous, though. Especially now. He chose Midoriya's hand instead, holding it with the palm facing up and tracing the lines inside of it. It didn't feel the way he expected. It was a bit calloused, actually, and was sticky with sweat. The scars made uneven dips in the creases.
The imperfection of it made him feel a bit better about himself, actually.
He followed Midoriya's instructions, breathing in and out, focusing on calm and safe until his shoulders rested and his jaw relaxed. Midoriya pushed some white strands from his face and hugged him softly. Shoto pressed his face into his chest and listened to his heart race, gentle breaths moving his head back and forth.
"Does it make you anxious?" Midoriya questioned. "When we're alone like this?"
"Yes," Shoto answered honestly and simply. He liked the way Midoriya's chest buzzed when he spoke. The vibrations felt healing--like a cat's purr.
"...do you want to stop having these meetings...?" Midoriya's voice grew higher.
"No," Shoto insisted. "I like them." He rested his hands just above Midoriya's hips and tied them together behind his back. "I like it when you touch me and pull me close. I like it when you kiss me and giggle and get red. It just startles me sometimes. And I'm confused. And worried."
"Worried?" Midoriya pulled back and held him at an arm's length. "Why worried?"
"I don't want to get overwhelmed and hurt you..." Shoto's gaze fell blankly on Midoriya's bed sheet. "This is new for me. I get overwhelmed with it easily. I don't want to burn you...or give you frost bite..."
"Oh..." Midoriya scooted over on the bed and pat the spot next to him. "You won't hurt me, Shoto. I trust you."
Oh, wait, "Shoto?" Am I supposed to call you Izuku? You think of me that closely? Ah, my heart rate is rising again...
Shoto sat next to him and shifted his feet back and forth on the rug. Trust wasn't really the issue, though. Accidents happen, and his mind was on such high alert all the time. It wasn't that he didn't trust Midoriya--Izuku?--it was that he just couldn't relax.
"C'mere," Izuku (?) pulled Shoto to lay down on top of him, giving a contented sigh. He was warm.
"Am I crushing you?" Shoto asked softly.
"No, the weight feels nice," Midoriya (?) replied.
"Are we using given names now?" Shoto asked in a softer tone.
"Do you not like it?" He ran his fingers through his hair.
"I do," Shoto countered.
"Then yeah, I don't see why not," Izuku rubbed his thumb back and forth against Shoto's cheek with his other hand.
The sensation was nice, but disappeared whenever his finger went past a certain point, being replaced with numb pressure until he moved back down.
He was petting along the border of his scar.
Shoto started to feel sick.
He pulled Izuku's hand off and threw it away, sitting up and moving himself to the opposite side of the bed. He pressed himself between the wall and his boyfriend, trying to take deep breaths without making it obvious that he was stressed.
"I-I'm sorry, does that hurt...?" Shoto could hear Izuku shift in the bed, but he was facing the wall, so he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing.
"...no," he muttered. "It makes me nauseous."
"Oh..." Izuku made no motion. "Do you...want to talk about why...?"
Shoto took a moment. "I can barely feel it. It's weird. It's numb. I don't like it. And it's rough, and ugly. It scares people. The last person who touched my face there is my mom--" he choked up. He gripped the sheets tightly. Pressure built up behind his eyes. His throat hurt. His nose closed. His chest was on fire.
"Shoto, hey...!" Izuku slowly shifted closer, hugging Shoto tightly. "You're not ugly! Not at all, Sho, you're so pretty, I can't even explain it to you..."
Shoto couldn't help but sob. "Am I?"
"You're the most handsome person I've ever met..." Izuku pressed the length of his body against Shoto's and buried his face in his neck. He felt warm, and soft. Shoto realized only now that he was shaking, but Izuku's pressure and heat helped some...
"When I see you I feel happy...and safe..." Izuku continued. "Screw what anyone else thinks."
Shoto gripped tightly onto Izuku's hand where it rested on his chest. "I f-feel that way when I see you, to-oo..."
"I'm glad..." He whispered, delivering a small kiss to his neck. A full minute of silence passed as Shoto's sobs and tremors slowed, anxiety being taken over by a sense of calm and feeling truly loved.
"You know..." Izuku whispered, "you don't deserve to feel like this. Your body is yours, you shouldn't have to avoid having a part of it touched..."
"Yeah..." Shoto croaked. "I know."
"If you want to, we can work on overcoming it..." Izuku turned his head up slightly, his hair tickling Shoto's ear and making him cringe.
"Mm. Maybe..."
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to," Izuku ensured.
"Okay." I'm tired now, can I sleep? That scared me and my eyes hurt.
"Can I ask one question about it...?" Izuku muttered in a soft voice.
"...alright..." Shoto murmured.
"Does it bother you when you touch it, too...? Or when you look at it...?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "Both. I hate how it looks, and how it feels, and how it makes me feel. I hate the numbness. I hate when people stare..." He swallowed hard. "I just hate it."
"Okay..." Izuku nodded against him. "If you decide you're ready, I think you should start with getting yourself comfortable with it...letting yourself touch and press it...does that make sense?"
"Yeah..." He whispered back. "Give myself control before letting others have it..."
"Exactly," Izuku kissed his cheek.
"...I love you," Shoto uttered so quietly he wasn't sure that he would he heard.
"I love you too." The simple response made Shoto's heart burst. A small smile spread across his face. Here he was safe.