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Shoto never understood what Izuku found so attractive about him. Enough that he wanted to actually date him— willingly stay by his side and call him his boyfriend— proudly and unabashedly.
When they had first met, Shoto didn’t think there was a chance in the deepest parts of hell that they’d get along. Izuku was— and still is— very talkative, and outgoing. He’s well-liked, handsome, and a reliable friend. Izuku was good. He was great, even. He was what everyone strived to be.
Shoto was… quite frankly, the exact opposite of him. He wore glasses, and kept his head bowed more often than not. He didn’t like attention, less than he liked having to force conversation with people he didn’t even know. He got straight A’s, and overall did pretty good in school. He was the picture perfect son. And he hated it.
Truthfully, he believed that that was one of the reasons he and Izuku grew so close so quickly. Izuku wasn’t the type of person his father would force him to be friends with. In fact, he’d probably hate him. Shoto had never been good at making friends— but with Izuku, it had come so naturally. Their relationship that followed had occurred even smoother.
It hadn’t happened overnight, it had actually taken a few weeks for the both of them to come to their senses and figure stuff out. Izuku had been the one to confess first— right after kissing Shoto— a kiss which had nearly put him in the hospital for heart failure.
And ever since then, they’d been dating. Boyfriends. They loved each other. Cared for each other. Shoto had never known that kind of relationship. He’d never been cared for before. Izuku showed him what it meant to be loved and to be cherished. And Shoto tried his best to reciprocate. Izuku always had a way of showing him up.
It wasn’t until Izuku invited him to his band's last performance that he began questioning if he was even worth his time. It sure didn’t feel like it.
Seeing Izuku perform on stage with his band had shown Shoto a whole new side of his boyfriend that he’d never seen before. It was attractive, alluring. And apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought that.
A girl— a pretty one— snuck into their dressing room and unabashedly asked for Izuku’s phone number. Shoto hid beside the door, leaning his back flat against the wall as he listened for Izuku’s answer.
Say no. Please, say no.
If he said no, that would mean Shoto was still worth his time. If he said no, it would mean Izuku still loved him. If he said no, they’d still have a chance at being together for longer than three months. Maybe forever. For eternity.
“Sure…”
The rest of the evening was sort of a blur. Shoto had never gotten drunk before, but he thinks that with the four cups of beer he chugged before leaving the venue had at least gotten him tipsy. He remembered sulking down the streets of Tokyo and pointedly ignoring Izuku’s phone calls, even going as far as to actually answer him before abruptly hanging up. He was being cruel, and maybe a little unfair, but he was heartbroken. Everyone had warned him about something like this. That their relationship was because they hadn’t been exposed to women in a few years. That Izuku would leave him at the first sight of a mini skirt and high heels.
Shoto could wear a mini skirt. And he could wear high heels. He’d steal them from Fuyumi’s closet if he had to.
But he was no girl. And Izuku obviously knew that.
One moment he was on a sidewalk, and the next he was laying with his back pressed against sand. He’d somehow ended up in a sandbox. His legs poked out from the bottom of it, they were too long. Not very ladylike. Would Izuku like him more if he was more feminine?
Izuku called him again, and Shoto decided to give him a chance.
“Hello—?”
“ Where are you ?”
Shoto blinked up at the sky, empty and void of stars. How sad.
“A sandbox. In a park. I don’t know.” He replied, his words were slurring together now. The alcohol was finally getting to him.
Izuku hung up, and Shoto figured that’d be the end of it. He would have started crying if it weren’t for a new found weight trampling over his body and holding him close. Strong arms wrapping around his waist, a cute face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
Shoto frowned. “Get off me.” He whispered, his lips wobbling. Maybe he would cry. He hadn’t expected him to get here so fast. He hadn’t expected him to show up at all . His emotions weren’t in check. He would probably cry.
“No,” Izuku whispered right back, his hand creeping and crawling until it securely held the base of Shoto’s head.
“Let go!” He repeated, a little louder, a little more desperate.
Izuku pulled his face away from his neck, and pressed his lips to his. Shoto squirmed and whimpered into him, his face and neck pulsating with heat, their tongues swirling together, tasting each other in their mouths and on their lips.
When Izuku pulled away— because of course he did. Shoto never knew boundaries— a string of saliva connected their lips for a split second before splatting right back against their mouths. Shoto wanted to wipe his mouth clean with the sleeve of his blazer.
“Was I cool? You were there, right? You saw me?” Izuku probed, nuzzling the tips of their noses together.
Shoto pouted, looking off to the side. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking into his eyes. Somehow, he knew he’d fall right back in if he did. He was too stubborn for this. “Don’t know. You sure are popular, Midoriya-san.”
“Huh? Me?” Izuku smacked his lips. “Have you been drinking?”
“I don’t know.”
Izuku said nothing for a moment.
“So was I cool?”
Shoto wanted to scream.
“Do you… like being with me?” He asked instead, intending to sound angry, but ended up sounding like a timid little school boy. “Going through all this trouble… forcing yourself to hang out with someone who’s depressing, weird and… a guy—“
“Shoto,” Izuku said, brushing his finger tips alongside his cheeks. “You’re making me angry.”
Shoto’s mouth clamped shut, his body tensing on instinct.
“No, I lied, I lied! I’m not angry… but…! Gah !” Izuku cried out, suddenly wrapping his arms around Shoto’s waist and hugging him tightly.
Shoto’s chin rested on his shoulder, staring at a tree, dumbfounded and confused. “Izuku…?”
“I don’t get why you’re saying such weird, stupid things!” The boy exclaimed, his words jostling his body and in turn jostling Shoto. “You think too much! Seriously, I was so worried about you! I thought you were hurt— or that somebody kidnapped you— I don’t know! ”
Shoto winced. “Stop yelling.”
“You’re number one.”
His eyes bulged, and suddenly he was looking right into a pair of jade green eyes and he found himself being sucked right back in. He knew he would.
“You’ll always be my number one, Shoto.”
Shoto really did start crying then. Tear drop after tear drop landed onto their laps. Izuku kissed them away, and Shoto let him.