Work Text:
When Shouto gets back from patrol, the lights are off. He knows Izuku is home because his almost offensively red sneakers are by the door, and his hoodie is hanging haphazardly from the kitchen chair.
“Izuku?” he calls out. There’s no reply for a moment, and he almost starts to panic before a quiet “Here,” comes from the bedroom.
His boyfriend sits on the edge of the bed. When Shouto turns on the light with a soft click, he doesn’t respond, instead staring listlessly at the wooden floor.
Gently, he repeats, “Izuku?” and he startles, blinking up at Shouto with wide eyes, hands shaking in his lap.
Shouto carefully sits to his right, taking his right hand in his left and activating his quirk. The warmth from his hands softens the shaking, and Izuku takes a croaky breath before sighing.
He waits for Izuku to start, because Izuku likes having time to collect his thoughts when he’s like this. Quiet. Small. Stressed.
Shouto keeps his thumb running over his hand, and eventually, Izuku leans his head on Shouto’s shoulder and takes a deep, shaky breath.
“I- I got an offer. It’s the first colony on Mars, and as sort of a- peace offering, I guess, the American government is sending two of their astronauts, the Chinese government is sending two of theirs, and Japan is sending two as well. But the senior pilot they chose broke their leg just a few days ago and I feel really bad for them because they were really really excited for this and-”
“Izuku, breathe.”
“Yes! Sorry, um. I- the point is-”
He bites his lip, and Shouto is almost worried that he might draw blood.
“I was offered the position. To go to the Mars colony.”
Something warm bubbles up in his chest. Shouto doesn’t press it back down, and it leaves his chest as a bright laugh and a grin, taking Izuku’s face in his hands and pressing his forehead to his. “Izuku, that’s incredible! I’m so proud of you!”
He draws his face back, almost giddy with pride, and- why does he look so sad?
“I- it’s for two years, Shouto.”
“...oh.”
No one speaks, Izuku’s eyes downcast and pulling at his scars, Shouto barely able to process his words. In the darkness of the apartment, the silence is almost suffocating, pale walls pressing in on his figure and squeezing the air from his lungs.
“That- that’s a… that’s a long time,” he says quietly. Izuku nods miserably, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.
“I only have three days to decide if I’m gonna go or not, but I think that’s really unfair cause I’ve worked so hard for this but I don’t wanna leave my mom or Kacchan or my friends or you behind for two whole years-”
The tirade breaks off in a frustrated sob, Izuku burying his face in Shouto’s chest. He wraps his arms around Izuku’s waist and pulls him closer, head spinning with the thought of two whole years.
It may have been an hour before the sobs quell- maybe two, but when Izuku draws his face back and gives him a watery smile, the only thing Shouto feels in his chest is a warm, soupy love for the man before him.
“It’s an incredible offer, Izuku,” he says, gently stroking through his hair. “You might never get an offer like this again.”
“I know, but- two years,” he says helplessly, tears beading again. Shouto brings his face up to meet his and gently kisses the tears from his eyes. Izuku giggles quietly, voice still rough from crying.
They sit in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. Shouto runs his thumb over Izuku’s knuckles, feeling the familiar scars stretching through his skin.
It’s your power, isn’t it?!
So long ago, back when they were still kids, Izuku had broken his limbs for him over and over again, just for Shouto. And even in the five years that they’ve been dating, he still feels the same rush of heat all over his body every time Izuku smiles, just the same as when they were in the arena.
“What should I do, Shou?”
Shouto hums quietly, turning his cheek to nest it in his hair.
You’re an incredibly kind person, Todoroki-kun.
“I think you should take the offer.”
There’s a beat of silence before Izuku scrambles from where he was laying in his lap, twisting awkwardly until he can stare at Shouto in disbelief.
“But- two years-”
“Two years is nothing compared to your happiness, Izuku,” Shouto murmurs. “I know you, just like you know me. I know that if you don’t take this offer then you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Izuku stares up at him, and for a moment he thinks he’s overstepped an invisible boundary but then a choked sob forces its way from Izuku’s throat and he’s crying all over again, throwing his arms around his neck and causing the both of them to tumble backwards onto the bed.
“I don’t want to leave you for two years,” he sobs, “I’d miss you so much, and I hate being apart from you when you have to go on patrol or when there’s a fight ‘cause I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again-”
“You don’t have faith in my heroing abilities?”
“Shut up, I’m trying to make a point here!”
A soft laugh bubbles from Shouto’s chest. Izuku peeks at him from where he’s buried himself in the wedge between his neck and his shoulder, and what he can see of his face turns a bright shade of red.
His laughter dies down, and it’s quiet again before Izuku whispers, “I’m just scared that I’ll leave, and when I come back you won’t be here anymore.”
And- the thing is, Shouto should be offended. With any other job, he would’ve been.
But Shouto is a Hero, and Heroes lead dangerous, unpredictable lives. You might just- not wake up, the next time you fall asleep.
So as much as he wants to tease Izuku about his confidence in his abilities, he knows this is a serious concern of his.
So instead of changing the topic or brushing it off, he buries his face in Izuku’s hair and kisses the side of his head.
“What if we make a promise?”
“A promise?”
“I’ll be here when you get back, and in return, you have to do the best you can up on Mars, alright?”
Izuku doesn’t say anything, but the way he noses further into Shouto’s neck and the light kiss he places against his skin says it all.
I promise to do my best.
I promise to be here when you return.
I promise my heart to you, and in return, you give yours to me, and we’ll always be intertwined that way.
A bit cheesy for two in the morning, isn’t it?
Shut it. ...I love you, you know?
I know. I love you too.
TWO YEARS, ONE MONTH AND EIGHTEEN DAYS LATER
Shouto paces in the waiting hall. People are gawking, because it’s not every day you see the number three hero pacing like a schoolboy on his first date.
Quite honestly, he couldn’t care less.
Because it’s been two years since he’s held Izuku in his arms and seen his smile in person and kisses every single one of his freckles, and now that he knows that he’s just a few rooms away, he feels like he’s going to fly apart.
“Fucking Christ, half ‘n half, cool your jets. The nerd will be here in a minute or two.”
Shouto pauses his pacing and stares at Katsuki, unimpressed. He may act nonchalant about this, but he knows for a fact that Katsuki fought Ochako for hours on end to be the one in the waiting room, instead of waiting outside.
Something in his stare must’ve tipped him off because he snarls, crimson eyes narrowing. “Something on my face?”
“Katsuki,” Momo says, sitting to the right of her boyfriend. Katsuki grunts before settling back in his seat.
Shouto resumes pacing, and he almost thinks he’s going to wear a hole in the concrete flooring before Izuku gets there, but Katsuki’s unnatural stiffening and Momo’s gasp stops that thought.
Slowly, he turns around, breath catching in his throat.
“Shouto,” Izuku says, smiling softly.
He looks just the same as he did two years ago, bright green eyes and messy curls that always get stuck in the most confusing positions. Cheeks lined with sunshine freckles, golden brown skin, blindingly beautiful smile-
Suddenly, everything nerve and fiber in Shouto’s body aches, and he very nearly throws himself at Izuku because it’s been two years since he’s seen his boyfriend.
Slowly, he takes one step forward, then another, and another, and then he stumbles and Izuku catches him with his scarred hands on his arms and that is it.
He collapses into Izuku, sobs shaking his shoulders as Izuku buries his face in his hair (“When did it get so long, Shoucchan?”) and presses a soft, tender kiss to the angry skin of his scar. He smiles as he pulls back, eyes shiny with tears.
“I’m home,” he whispers, and Shouto hiccups a laugh, pressing his lips to Izuku’s and smiling.
Welcome home, love.