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He wished he could say it hurt less, knowing now for sure that they didn’t feel the same way. Shouto stared miserably at the picture facing him, reading over the same words for the millionth time. “UA’s Heart-throb Power Couple Now a Power Throuple?!”
His aching eyes glossed over the image of Izuku and Katsuki being breathtaking at some kind of party. Izuku’s green curls looked especially glossy, his shoulders broad and thick, filling out the space his sudden growth-spurt after their first two years in highschool left. Katsuki, no slouch himself, was stretching out a deep maroon shirt, flung wide open and revealing the defined ridges and scars of his smooth chest, flushed pink with the exhilaration that came with dancing intimately aside the love of his life, his red-eyes displaying his affection vibrantly.
Shouto had seen this scene play out before him several times before. First, during their school dance their first year of UA. Here, amongst the cheap, plastic streamers and neon lights, Izuku and Katsuki rutted shamelessly into each other, forgetting Shouto’s very existence, alongside that of every other innocent eye at the dance. This was, Shouto recalled from class, most assuredly not a victimless crime. Unfortunately, watching them be escorted out by an exhausted Aizawa wasn’t funny enough to override Shouto’s splintering heart.
The next time Shouto saw them essentially fuck fully clothed on the dance floor was during a student’s live broadcast of their second school dance, Shouto’s feigned illness the only thing preventing him from publicly drowning his sorrows in contraband liquor that did little in the face of his hero metabolism. Shouto swore then, as he silently cried into a bottle of cheap sake and alone on the floor of his dorm, that he would move on. It was his only option. He could never let them go, he loved them too much for that. If their friendship is all they would give him, Shouto would remain latched onto it with the same feverish fervor he displayed while fighting villains for all of eternity.
And it worked. Seeing them during classes, tussling in the gym, playing video games with them in the common room after hours, falling asleep on the couch as they left him to cuddle in bed- it was fine. Shouto was fine. That is, Shouto was fine until faced with this stupid, ugly tweet by this stupid, disgusting gossip account. For while Izuku and Katsuki danced aside each other the same way they always have, this time, their crotches weren’t feverishly rubbing against each other. Instead, they were frenetic in how they ground into the coquettish blond between them. He was tall, light and lean- a pretty hero with a pretty water quirk to match, if Shouto accurately recalled.
It hurt. It wasn’t fair. Shouto never asked for anything, not for a very, very long time. It didn’t matter what he wanted, he knew, and deluding himself into thinking it mattered would only make it ache more when he was finally denied. But Shouto had never wanted anything this bad, so bad his skin was rubbed raw from wiping away his tears. So bad, he had to breathe through his mouth because his nose was clogged with snot and misery. So bad, his body ached at the thought of seeing either of them ever again.
Alright , he thought, that’s fine then. Perhaps, you could change identities and move? Become an underground hero like Aizawa-sensei! Get surgery and reconstruct your face, and find someone with a memory quirk to get everyone you love to forget you ever existed, burn all the evidence and leave. He hummed, pondering this possible means of escape when he heard a low, angry growl to his right. Oh fuck. He remembered, quite gloomily, his asshole roommate who would sooner chew through his own paw before he let Shouto manhandle him out of the country. He lifted his pounding head up from where he was lying pathetically face-down on his expensive rug, and glared at the hostile pomeranian, who he had quite unwillingly adopted.
Lord ExplosionMight was given to him by the two causes of his acute melancholy. Izuku and Katsuki, amazingly astute, were sure he was about to rot away with loneliness. So for Christmas this year, just a couple days ago, right before Izuku whisked Katsuki away to his mother’s house for the holidays after ensuring they couldn’t convince Shouto to tag along as their third wheel, they gave him this mutt they found in a damp box during one of their romantic strolls in the park. They knew he would rather engage in sexual activities with Monoma before he adopted a dog, but Izuku insisted that a cat was too cold to provide real companionship and Katsuki didn’t give a fuck either way, so he claimed. Clearly, they didn’t consider the possibility that the rabid mutt was abandoned in a desolate box for a reason.
The pomeranian was a growling, menacing, hissing and spitting wad of pale yellow fur, most commonly found puffed up in fury, as it hopped on tiny legs and barked in indignation at its latest offender. Said offender usually being Shouto, as he uselessly tried to care for and nurture it. Fortunately, Izuku and Katsuki bequeathed him with this Christmas miracle at the beginning of winter break, right as the dorms cleared out and hence allowing for no witnesses when the mutt would soon go mysteriously missing.
You need to meditate, Sho. You need to unclench that tight ass of yours. Kaminari’s terrible, annoying voice cut clear through Shouto’s villainous thoughts. While going underground may not be entirely feasible, a yoga retreat did sound amazing. One wherein he could forget that the only people he had ever loved would never feel the same about him, that they had no issues adding someone new to their relationship, someone who isn’t Shouto. Alright, Shouto now had an actual Christmas vacation to plan. There was only one thing standing in his way, a pointy ball of pure rage advertised as a canine American, to be precise.
“Would you like to eat, pray and love with me?” Shouto tried, wondering if the mutt took bribes.
The mutt squinted at him. Shouto stared back, dried tear tracks staining his red, puffy face, and watched in awe as the mutt’s own face went soft as it took in Shouto’s haggard appearance. Shouto sniffled pathetically, and watched as the mutt reached some kind of conclusion. A resolution even, one might suppose.
The mutt slowly rose on its twiggy legs and waddled towards a much cherished picture of him, Izuku and Katsuki in the middle of their first year, all sprawled across the couch, during a class movie night. Shouto was fast asleep between them, Katsuki keeping himself cool on Shouto’s right, and Izuku shamelessly warming himself on Shouto’s left, an arrangement the three frequently found themselves in that year. That is, before Izuku and Katsuki realized they were head-over-heels for each other and that suddenly there wasn’t any room for Shouto in between them anymore. The mutt stared at the image, its twiddly eyebrows pinching together before it swiftly raised a hind leg and urinated carefully all over the laminated front.
Shouto’s mouth fell open. Still urinating, the mutt looked over its shoulder to meet Shouto’s eyes with a look so headstrong and stubborn and familiar that Shouto couldn’t help himself. He burst into peals of laughter, shoulders shaking and gasping for breath.
“All that’s left is to set fire to it, I suppose.” Shouto grinned as his laughter died down. Lord ExplosionMight stepped aside and huffed his regal assent. Instead though, Shouto threw it out the window, soon realizing he was too inebriated to truly be certain he wouldn’t cause an explosion should he then use his quirk. Sleep, however muggy and dark, then came easily to Shouto as he passed out next to the piss stain on his favorite rug, the mutt curled into his side and snoring loud enough to warrant a noise complaint. It was fortunate, Shouto supposed drowsily as sleep began to consume him, that he was alone that Christmas.
.
.
.
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Shouto ended up waking to a complaint- one of the noisy variety. He groggily answered his cellular device and raised it to his ear, certain that there wasn’t a villain attack that Izuku and Katsuki couldn’t handle themselves if they possessed the energy to go around sleeping with every pretty, young hero that so much as blinked at them.
“Shouto, you stupid, beautiful, idiot,” rang across the line, followed by a familiar, annoying laughter. Shouto groaned loudly, ignoring the affronted protests across the line.
“What do you want first thing in the morning, Denki?” Shouto rubbed his bleary eyes, and sat up, stretching out his long limbs.
“It is literally three in the afternoon. That’s basically your bedtime-” Shouto huffed, cutting Kaminari off before he could truly get into it.
“Denki.” Kaminari paused. Kaminari, alongside all of their classmates but excluding the two idiots Shouto decided to become infatuated with, were painfully aware of Shouto’s traumatic love-life. Following this, they all came to easily identify the certain tone of voice Shouto took when he was feeling particularly mopey, affectionately dubbing it his no-one-understands-me voice. Denki sighed.
“I’d tell you to unfollow that stupid page if I weren’t calling you for the opposite reason,” Denki sounded odd, breathless almost. Shouto blinked blearily at nothing, unsure as to what Denki meant by that but too tired to prod him for an explanation.
Denki, thankfully enough, was well versed in Shouto silences, and was altogether forthcoming with a, “Just check the stupid page and think about what you’ve done,” Denki indelicately snorted. “Our class was already a dumpster on fire with Deku and Kacchan practically begging on their knees for villains to target them and the rest of us just by association. Now, thanks to you, our beautiful, lustrous Shouto, this flaming dumpster is on wheels, and it’s racing towards whatever shred of privacy and dignity this class was left with.”
“You’re making me wish I didn’t understand Japanese.” was Shouto’s monotone response. “Could you try again, but slower this time? A little more coherency would also be appreciated.” Shouto got up and rolled his shoulders, distastefully eyeing the now dried up stain on his rug that he would no doubt have to burn now.
“I’d like to see just how sassy you are once you’ve taken a look at your favorite gossip rag.” Denki sniffed and continued to mutter under his breath, “Cannot believe I was concerned for y-” Shouto tuned him out easily, as he mindlessly opened up the page Denki so desperately wanted him to look at. Recalling the last time Denki desperately and sweatily woke him up to look at something online, and recalling the memory of a bathing suit-clad poolside photo of Mineta now permanently ingrained into his retinas, Shouto took his time.
Shouto soon regretted taking his time, because now, two hours after the damage was done, Shouto is finally staring at a laminated, framed, piss-soaked, shit-stained image of him asleep between his crushes, an image Shouto now remembers himself drunkenly tossing out the window. Shouto read the caption below it in horror. “Beef between the UA Top 3? Hero-in-training Shouto defecates on framed image of trio, proudly distributing it publicly soon after. Is this Shouto asserting his dominance or him marking his territory? Most importantly, what would Number One Hero Endeavour say to this?” and above that, “Female students of UA viciously battling each other for image with Todoroki Shouto’s scent on it. Is this what our Hero Training has come to? Follow this more on my thread, ‘The humiliation of class A’”
Shouto audibly gasped, Denki’s laughter renewed as he once more recollected why he called Shouto.
“If I’d known that you decided to stay back during Christmas break to defecate in public, I might have stayed back to do it with you, but instead, you sneakily decided to stay back without me and once more plotted to steal the attention of literally every single female in UA from right under our noses,” Denki attempted to sound accusatory, but was laughing too hard to manage it without exploding.
Shouto nearly threw the phone out the window, but stopped himself at the intrusive reminder that throwing something out the window is what led to having to suffer through this phone call to begin with. So he said the first thing that came to him, “My dog urinated on it, not me.”
“Right,” Denki merrily agreed, “And was your dog the one who threw it out the window too?”
“No, that was me.” Shouto admitted honestly. Denki laughed like an idiot before he paused. And then, “You have a dog?” He gasped.
“Yes, it looks like Katsuki, but that’s besides the point.” Shouto thought the reality of the situation was finally kicking in. “How am I going to explain this to Izuku and Katsuki?” Shouto might be panicking.
“Dude, how are you going to explain this to me?”
So, in disconnected sentences, Shouto tried to explain how his utter, horny heartbreak led to the mass distribution of a piss-soaked, shit-stained frame potentially ruining three reputations. Shouto didn’t even want to think of the events that would follow Endeavour getting a hold of it.
“I see your dog is just as classy as Bakugou at any given instant,” Kaminari guffawed, enjoying himself a little too much.
A few more minutes of Kaminari laughing so much Shouto was wondering how he wasn’t suffocating, and a few more minutes of Shouto silently stewing in his own misery went by before Kaminari seemed to be hit with a sudden revelation.
“Okay, well that doesn’t explain why there was shit on there.”
Shouto paused at this.
“There was shit?”
“Shouto, you beautiful illiterate,” Denki sighed.
“Denki, the shit wasn’t mine ,” Shouto said, affronted.
“Sabotage,” Kaminari gasped.
“No,” Shouto said, already leaning out the window, “Something just released excrement outside my window.”
“Your good luck astounds me, Shouto.” Kaminari chuckled merrily. “I’m just surprised the tweet didn’t read ‘ Sexy teen hero Todoroki Shouto hangs his delectable buns outside the window and rains down on UA’ ”
Fuck it , Shouto thought as he threw his phone out the window.
He turned around to look at the mutt who had started it all, still curled up in the warmth that Shouto had left behind, and considered throwing it out the window as well.
But then it stretched out tiny legs and let out a little tiny cough before it curled back into itself and Shouto’s heart had already ceased all function. He pulled a soft pelt off his bed and laid it carefully over the snoozing mutt
What am I going to do now ? Shouto stood still in the middle of his room. A large rumble appearing to directly emanate from Shouto’s abdomen cut through the silence.
Soba . Shouto decided he wanted Soba. Going through the motions of getting cleaned up, Shouto finally pulled on his coat and stepped into the brisk winter air. His mutt was trotting next to him, growling its continuous displeasure at being jarred awake from beneath the warmth Shouto had only provided it with moments earlier and tossed into the freezing air. Which is what Shouto did, that is. He didn’t know what the mutt would do if left to its own devices, and Shouto would be the first to admit he knew nothing about dogs, but he was sure he read somewhere that they ate. So that is what they were going to do. They were going to eat soba.
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.
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“Figures I’d find you here. As the shit rains down around you, literally , you’d be sitting here as if goddamn nothing is wrong, eating soba.” Katsuki slid ungraciously and aggressively into the seat opposite Shouto and next to the mutt who was shooting him a bewildered look, entirely uninvited. He pulled out his phone to presumably text someone who is also presumably, Midoriya.
Shouto didn’t have anything to say to him, besides I’m sorry and Why not me? So Shouto said nothing. He continued slurping on his soba, making it sound as loud and wet as he could manage, hoping that it would annoy Katsuki.
Katsuki, not one to be ignored, fiercely dragged Shouto’s bowl towards himself and ate the soba with manners only slightly better than the dog next to him. He slurped on the noodles just as loudly as Shouto, if not louder, almost as if to say I can do this better too , but still couldn’t prevent himself from mumbling an honest “It’s good,” around a mouthful.
Shouto’s traitor heart melted at the sight. But he was still mad, however unfair it was. He still felt abandoned, unwanted, and those surges of affection and love that he felt always came with the reminder that said love was entirely unreciprocated. Either the mutt picked up on Shouto’s dark thoughts or he thought Katsuki’s challenge was directed towards him, because he drew their attention with a low, feral growl. Upon receiving all eyes on him, he buried his fuzzy face in the bowl before him and began to drown himself in his attempt to inhale the soba in under thirty seconds.
Shouto smiled proudly. “Good dog.” He hummed. Katsuki turned to aim his now disgusted expression at Shouto. “We leave the dog with you for all of half a week, and now his personality is somehow fucking worse?”
“I don’t want to hear about bad personalities from you, Bakugou.” Shouto sniffed.
Katsuki’s face blanked out at this.
“Bakugou?”
Shouto avoided his piercing eyes. “It’s your name.”
“Not to you, it isn’t.” And Shouto’s wide eyes swiveled to him in surprise.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that.” He growled his own impressive impersonation of the mutt beside him, now subdued in the face of true wrath.
“What’s wrong?”
Shouto swallowed a little too wetly. “I’m fine. And-” He swallowed again, looking off somewhere behind Katsuki. “I’m sorry about the photo. I still have to train him.”
“That’s a pretty strong throw for a pup with such tiny, adorable paws.”
Shouto started in surprise, ignoring Katsuki’s deadpan glare in front of him to gape at a sweaty, lightly huffing Midoriya, in all his broad, toned glory, looking as if he had run there.
“I told you to take your time, nerd.” Katsuki scowled at his boyfriend.
“I’m sorry, Kacchan,” Izuku cooed, nuzzling into the warmth of Katsuki’s head, mussing up the hair there but Katsuki’s face had gone slack, leaning into the heat above him. Shouto forced himself to look away, feeling cold all of a sudden, and inadvertently making eye contact with the mutt who had a string of soba hanging from his whisker and was shooting him a knowing look.
Shouto watched blankly as the tiny, grizzly mutt hopped off the cushy seat and took a running start, claws digging in so he could clumsily drag himself onto Shouto’s side of the booth. Once not at risk of bruising his tiny, canine butt, he slotted himself between Shouto’s legs, nuzzling his own dirty face into Shouto’s clean, white shirt.
Shouto sighed, smiling a little in spite of himself and appreciating the thought regardless of the destruction of property. He looked up to ask for a napkin but started when he realized the two men across from him had aimed all their intense, stubborn, caring attention on him.
Shouto, ever emotionally gifted, stared blankly back, protectively cupping the warm ball in his lap close to him. Izuku’s eyes tracked the movement closely, face flushing with a kind of emotion that somehow wasn’t included in the ‘obvious list of feelings that Shouto understands’ package that he received at birth.
“Shouto-kun,” Izuku began, but Shouto cut him off.
“What are you guys doing here?”
“I got a call from Dunce-face. He showed us the tweet.” Katsuki gruffly explained between gulps of Shouto’s soba.
“He sounded worried about you.” Izuku finished, green eyes concerned and brows pinched. “Did we do something, Shouto?”
“It's more what you didn’t do.” Shouto said honestly, swayed by the unfeigned emotion painting Izuku’s features, before slapping a palm over his mouth in horror that he had admitted anything.
“What do you mean?” Katsuki leaned in seriously, the half-empty soba bowl abandoned beside him.
Shouto stayed resolutely silent. Because what else was he going to tell them? I’ve loved you for so long and I can’t stand the idea that you love each other more? That the fact that they still care about him as a dear friend will never be enough to soothe the burn within him? That while he’s slowly come to accept the bitter truth that there wasn’t space for him in their whirlwind romance, he might die before he accepts that it actually wasn’t space, blond and tall and beautiful and between them, but there was something about him so fundamentally wrong that they could not want him that way. Shouto was certainly not saying any of that. So Shouto stayed silent, eyes fixed on the table before him
“Please,” Shouto glanced up and was startled to see wet, green eyes staring so pleadingly at him. It was then Midoriya’s turn to look away from Shouto’s wide eyes. “I know our relationship has not been the best in the past couple of months, and we can tell that you’ve been drifting away but. But we-”
“You’re very fucking important to us. We’re sorry for being so fucking needy and pathetic, but if we did something wrong-” Katuski took off, his hair standing a little spikier on the ends, and his voice rife with that emotion from before, that emotion Shouto was starting to find familiar.
“No!” They were startled into silence at Shouto’s outburst. “I mean-” Shouto tried, huffing in frustration, as Katsuki watched patiently and Izuku nodded his head encouragingly. “It’s me. I’m wrong. I’m sorry. About the tweet and the piss, the shit actually wasn’t me- Nevertheless,” Shouto pushed himself to say the words. He might as well. It's not as if his relationship with them could sink any further into the bedrock.
“My feelings- how I’m facing them is wrong. I wish I could have told you sooner, but I couldn’t- be a burden ,” And fuck, Shouto thought he might be getting a little too emotional.
There was a sudden warmth beside him. Izuku leaned in meaningfully, without touching, “You can tell us anything.” And Shouto believed him.
“I love you. Both of you. The way you love each other. That’s how I feel. About you. Both of you.” There. That should do it. Shouto couldn’t look at either of them, so he looked at the dog still perched regally in his lap, looking at Shouto with his maw agape, genuinely disbelieving that Shouto cared about the douchebags surrounding them while clearly forgetting the fact that said douchebags rescued him from his future in impoverished box-living. Shouto was forcefully yanked out of his thoughts when a fist forcefully slammed down on the table.
Katsuki leaned low on the table, glaring darkly. Shouto’s heart sank.
“I. Fucking. Told. You.”
“Kacchan,” Izuku held up his hands placatingly from beside Shouto, and it was only then Shouto realised that he wasn’t meeting Katsuki’s fierce eyes. Katsuki ruthlessly cut him off.
“I told you that anyone who moisturizes their damn toes is a fucking poof!” Katsuki stood up, fists clenched, drawing the attention of the whole, entire restaurant.
“They were dry.” Shouto defended himself in the face of what seemed like judgmental stares from neighboring tables. “And I’m not gay.”
Katsuki paused at that, then seamlessly redirected his anger at Shouto who blinked warily.
“That’s right, you banana-split-bastard.” Katsuki was jabbing a finger in Shouto’s direction in case their audience were confused as to who he could possibly be referring to.
“It’s not just Deku’s fault. You told us you were goddamn straight!”
Shouto now blinked in confusion. He looked at Lord ExplosionMight for any clues, but the fuzzy ball of rage was merrily scarfing down some soba while enjoying his table-side entertainment, clearly as unhelpful as Shouto himself was. Shouto deemed himself to be, as was par for the course, alone on this. “What do you mean?” Shouto said carefully.
“I mean exactly what I said,” Katsuki snarled unhelpfully so Shouto turned to Izuku for help.
Izuku, large and powerful enough that he could pull whole buildings to dust with a twist of his stride, was sitting there twiddling his fingers besides Shouto anxiously.
“Remember our first year, Shouto-kun?” Izuku tried. “Right before Kacchan and I began dating? Kacchan asked if you were, uh well, if you were gay?”
Shouto nodded slowly, the period from before-they-began-dating a little fuzzier than everything that followed. “What about it?” Shouto asked, unfortunately still confused.
Izuku opened his mouth to reply, when Kacchan interrupted him with a “You said no, you fucki-” but slowed down when Izuku frowned at him warningly. That’s about as much Izuku could do though- slow him down. Katsuki opened his mouth to re-attempt thoroughly embarrassing all of them in front of their captivated audience, so this time, Shouto took the lead in shutting him up.
“I may not be as smart as you or Izuku, but even the mutt knows that ‘not being gay’ doesn’t immediately equate to ‘being straight’.”
“The mutt?” Izuku mumbled under his breath in confusion, turning to look at the dog who was nodding sagely at them.
“You said you liked girls!” Katsuki cut to the chase, truly empowering his vocal cords in how he pushed them to their limits. Shouto was sure he saw a few customers attempt to protect their ears from the unforgiving decibel.
“I meant that I like girls too.” Shouto was blushing a light pink now.
“How were we supposed to know that, Shouto-kun?” Izuku wailed suddenly, looking near tears.
“Calm down, nerd.” Katsuki said gruffly, coming closer to put a strong, comforting arm around his boyfriend.
“I’m sorry.” Shouto tried again, feeling as if he should have known his confession would only push them away further, if they weren’t even going to believe-
“Don’t be an idiot.” Katsuki said, just as Izuku leaned forward frantically to lay sweaty, large palms enveloping Shouto’s shoulders to shake him and cry “Of course we believe you!”
Well. If Shouto was at the stage where he was thinking out loud, he should probably leave before he made things worse-
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” Katsuki growled warningly. “If you leave, then you won’t get to hear us say-”
“We love you too.” Izuku sniffled, wiping his snot on an enraged Katsuki’s sleeve.
“Oi! You weepy nerd, I wanted to say it first,” Katsuki unrelentlessly fought but Shouto didn’t care about either that or the idle citizens so cheerfully watching Izuku and Katsuki tear into each other. Shouto’s whole world had ended.
Shouto interrupted their slowly escalating argument, talking over the crackling in Katsuki’s palms.
“You can’t just say that.” Shouto wasn’t sure he could handle misinterpreting this.
And there must have been something revealing in Shouto’s voice, because Katsuki was suddenly on Shouto’s other side, seamlessly catapulted over the two to embrace Shouto warmly and possessively.
“You think we’d lie to you?” And Shouto looked into Katsuki’s deep, red eyes, a hair's width apart and when faced with such sincerity, Shouto could do scarcely more than shiver uncontrollably and tear up.
“Deku,” Katsuki called, a note of panic in his voice at Shouto’s sudden trembling.
Izuku pressed himself against the length of Shouto’s back, not leaving an inch of space. Shouto was enveloped between them, steady and strong and just slightly neurotic. Shouto felt safe and cared for, for the first time, in what felt like forever, and the thought allowed him to take a deep breath and allow himself to bring himself down. They were once again enveloped in silence.
“What about the boy from the picture?” Shouto surprised himself with the sound of his own voice. He felt them both tense up from around him.
“We were missing you.” Katsuki admitted, immediately understanding who Shouto was referring to. Shouto would have scoffed if he thought Katsuki capable of being anything beside endearingly honest.
“He reminded us of you too.” Izuku chuckled weakly, still sounding a little tender from all the emotional whiplash.
“By that, Deku means that he was also astonishingly emotionally stunted.” Katsuki snarked.
Shouto smiled a little, nuzzling into the crook of Katsuki’s neck, wondering that he was allowed to do this.
“Get used to it.” Shouto felt Izuku leave a warm, wet kiss at the base of his neck, the note of authority in his tone sending a shock of arousal down Shouto’s spine.
“Deku,” Katsuki said haltingly, sounding a little breathless himself with Shouto now leaving butterfly kisses wherever his lips could reach, “Oi Shouto! We’re in public you sexual fucking deviants-”
“Oh now you’re concerned about the public,” Shouto could almost hear Izuku roll his eyes.
Before Katsuki could chew Izuku out, the sound of someone clearing their throat cut through the tension, mostly of the sexual variety to be spcific. They met the eyes of a nervous, squat looking man, who kept glancing over his shoulder at his seething wife, who appeared to be the driving force of the fine establishment they were currently seated within.
“I apologise sirs, but we have to ask that you and your canine immediately vacate the premises. You appear to be ‘ruining the food’ in the words of some of the customers.”
Even Katsuki bowed his head shamefaced as they and the mutt were escorted out, Izuku apologising as profusely as he could between gasping breaths.
And then the four of them were alone. Shouto squinted at the men he loved, and who seemingly, loved him back. He felt warmth and tender and at Katsuki’s possessive, beefy arm wrapped around his waist, a shot of heat in the pit of his stomach.
Shouto swiveled around in Katsuki’s arms, intent on finally claiming those soft, ferocious lips, when he felt a sting on his ass. He gasped lowly in shock. Izuku leaned into whisper smoothly into his ears, “You still haven’t explained the crap on a photo of us I cherish so much, Shouto-kun.”
“Deku,” Katsuki groaned as Shouto laughed softly, stupidly happy, wondering how he had been spanked before he had even been kissed, certain that he liked it very much.
He turned around to face Izuku and leaned in close, their lips touching each other as he said, “Following the tweet that started this all, I'll show you two that I was simply marking my territory,”
“I’ll kill you, you cheesy fuck.”
And Shouto kissed the discontentment right off his stupid, attractive face, intent on proving how earnest he was about marking them, as Lord ExplosionMight left the three idiots behind, intent on finding the box he had come from to salvage what was left of his paltry future.