Chapter Text
Shouto had that twisting anxiety in his stomach. He had walked Kaneko back to his dorm, which meant it was time for that. The moment when his date would step closer, start to wrap their arms around Shouto, and he’d step back. Or when their eyes would slide shut and their lips parted ever so slightly and he’d step back and clear his throat awkwardly. On rare occasions they would also step back. But the way his fingers had to unknit from Kaneko’s time and time again made it clear that this wouldn’t be one of those rare moments.
“I had such a good time, Todoroki-kun,” Kaneko said. He stared up at Shouto with hope in his amber eyes. Eyes that were rimmed by long eyelashes—the kind that Fuyumi always complained she didn’t have. His lips looked soft and plump. There was a blush staining his cheeks. Why didn’t Shouto want to kiss this pretty boy?
“It was a nice movie,” Shouto said. “You picked good seats.” Right in the middle of the theater, surrounded on all sides. Shouto found them relaxing because there was no getting up to funny business in the middle of the theater.
Kaneko had a look of thwarted intentions in his eyes. “Too bad the back row was taken.”
“Oh, no, I prefer the middle seats,” Shouto said. Well aware of how things would go if he didn’t cut Kaneko off at the pass, he put an end to things. “But I should go. It was a very nice night.”
“Would you want to go out again?”
Now came the part Shouto really hated. He didn’t want to be a hero who hurts, but he knew he didn’t want to kiss Kaneko. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Kaneko’s eyes were now moving toward lambent, the same way Izuku’s eyes started to shine before he cried. “I…I understand,” he said and spun, running into his common room.
Arriving back at Heights Alliance he found Izuku alone in the common room. Shouto dropped on the couch next to Izuku. “I’m so bad at this, Izuku. Why can other people do it so easily?”
“You’re asking the boy who fell in love at four and stuck around until he wore his crush down?” The self-deprecating laugh was more of a puff of air then sound. “Sorry Shouto. The people I dated before Kacchan were just practice. I was always waiting for him.”
As the days passed, Shouto focused on school. He was a third year, and he had more than boys to occupy his mind. He submitted and received approval for a hero name change from Shouto to FrostFire. He applied for a post-graduation training program in America, and subsequently worked harder than ever in Present Mic’s English classes.
But at night? Nighttime was the loneliest. He knew for a fact that Izuku was sleeping in Bakugo’s room. What would it be like to have someone here like that for him? Someone to hold? To hold him? Natsuo had found a girlfriend in med school. Fuyumi was dating Miruko. Even Touya, back from the dead and in Tartarus, had a boyfriend. He wasn’t really sure how that worked, with Hawks being the Number Two hero. (Then again, Touya had sold out the League in part because of Hawks.) And Shouto? Was alone. Part of him wondered if he’d sleep better with a body pillow, the hint of someone better than nothing?
Mornings were easiest. With the exceptions of some morning people, the lingering quiet of the dining area made him feel included. He didn’t have to talk beyond the occasional short interactions. Most of the students seemed happy to drink their coffee or tea in peace. He sat next to Uraraka, who gave him a small smile and wave while she took a long drink from her beverage. Yaoyorozu sat down on his other side and quietly asked if she could check her answers against his on last night’s math homework. He passed his homework to her and she went through it, passing his work back when she’d finished comparing them.
“Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki stay after,” Aizawa said toward the end of Hero Ethics. “I need to talk to the three of you about something.”
A bubble formed and was soon joined by countless other bubbles, buzzing under his skin. There was supposed to be an announcement soon regarding who this year’s Big Three were. It was rare that all three would be from the same class, but not unheard of. Then again, maybe they just wanted the top three from the Sports Festival for something? Shouto’s leg bounced under his seat as anticipation and excitement distracted him. He tried to focus on the ethics question at hand—are you morally responsible for spectators after they’ve been warned multiple times? How many times do you order them to evacuate the area before you’re not responsible?—and could not, for the life of him, focus. He’d ask Izuku for help.
By the time Aizawa released their classmates, Shouto had a magnum of champagne’s worth of bubbles filling his stomach. Aizawa waited until all the students had gone and the large door had closed again. He turned his eyes on them. “You should be perceptive enough to anticipate what I’m going to say. Congratulations. Being one of the Big Three is an honor. It’s one you worked for and earned, but it’s an honor. It means you need to be a model of a future hero. Bakugo, Midoriya? Let’s keep the Ground Beta fights in the past. Todoroki? That also goes for lighting bonfires in the quad.”
After three shots of Shoju it had seemed like a perfectly good use of his quirk. That was the first (and last) time he’d drank anything his classmates thought would be “fun.” Hero students had a very tenuous relationship with “legality” when it came to thinks like underaged drinking, he’d found. He’d quietly asked Inasa if it was a UA thing or if it was all hero students. It was all hero students, apparently. All students?
At least it was a bonfire and not another illegal rescue or unauthorized back-alley fight with top tier villains as in his first year?
As the three of them walked back to the dorms, Shouto could feel his shoulders straighten out and his head lift. He’d done it. Winner of the third year Sports Festival, top of his classes, and one of the Big Three. He couldn’t have a better set of accomplishments. Sure, it would’ve been better to get his provisional license on the first try, but if he had he wouldn’t be friends with Inasa, Camie, and Bakugo now.
“Shouto!” The voice came from behind him. Used to being called by his (former) hero name, he turned. And sighed when he saw a second year hero student clutching a flower running toward them.
“We’ll see you later, Shouto,” Izuku said.
“Izuku, stay. Bakugo…please stay,” he turned desperate eyes on them. “Save me.”
“Fine. But we can’t save you from every extra who think you’re too pretty, Candy Cane.”
When the boy stopped in front of them, panting, he held out the flower. “I wanted to say congratulations! The school chat just found out. Would you…are you seeing someone? I’d like to take you out for ice cream to celebrate.”
Bakugo took the flower. “We’re late for a meeting with All Might. Half-n-half is too busy to date you.” Then he grabbed Izuku and Shouto’s wrists and started dragging them in the direction of the 3-A dorm.
When Shouto looked back, the boy was still standing there, dejectedly.
“You need to get a grip on your fan club if you don’t want them pining after you,” Bakugo said.
“How?”
“For fuck’s sake, pick one of the hundred or so boys here who want to suck your dick and date them,” Bakugo said, exasperation in every line of his body, small explosions popping off his hands.
“I think Kacchan meant that if you had a boyfriend, you wouldn’t get asked out so much,” Izuku translated.
“It’s not that you’re wrong. I just…it’s just never worked out.”
“If you’re ace or aro you know we’d be here for you,” Izuku touched his shoulder.
“Thank you but I’m not. I want a relationship and eventually sex—”
“Oi! Icy Hot! Standing right here. Don’t need to know that.”
“Are you ashamed of wanting to have sex with Izuku?” Shouto was confused.
“Of course I’m not. But I don’t talk about it in the middle of campus! For fuck’s sake,” Bakugo muttered, the tips of his ears pink.
“But you can talk about people wanting to suck my dick?”
“Tch.”
“I think you just need to find the right person,” Izuku said.
“Or at least the right person to fake a relationship with.” Bakugo muttered.
“Fake a relationship?” Shouto blinked. Maybe that was the key. Find someone who would fake being his boyfriend and then he’d be left alone by the others. Maybe it wouldn’t get him physical affection, but he could live without it. But maybe a fake boyfriend would hang out and watch movies until it got late in his dorm, and he wouldn’t go to sleep feeling alone.
“Kacchan! Shouto doesn’t need to fake a relationship. He just needs to kiss a lot of frogs before he finds his prince charming!”
Bakugo’s eyes narrowed. “How many frogs did you kiss before me, nerd?”
Izuku let out a nervous giggle. “Oh, look, there’s All Might!” He used full cowling and was gone in a heartbeat.
“Did you kiss Deku?” Bakugo asked, his eyes cutting over to Shouto.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Because the two of you were buddy/buddy in first year and I hadn’t pulled my head out of my ass yet. In your shoes I would’ve.” Bakugo shrugged.
“No. It was clear to me that Izuku was infatuated with you. I couldn’t imagine why until we became friends.”
“You’re an ass.”
Bakugo’s ludicrous idea was stubbornly lodged in Shouto’s brain and he began to evaluate his classmates as possible partners. Bakugo and Izuku were together, as were Kaminari and Shinsou. Who could he trust to keep a low profile but whose company he’d want?
How do you ask someone to be your fake boyfriend? Address it like a business proposal? Should he offer to pay them? Who to ask?
Better, what if a fake boyfriend could teach him the rules of dating? A hands on tutorial, so to speak. Well, maybe a literal-hands-off-metaphorical-hands-on tutorial. He could learn how to date, and they would…get money? Access to Endeavor (despite how disappointing that would be for any fan)? Miruko’s autograph? Hawks’ autograph? He chewed it over in his head.
He subtly watched the boys, cataloging who was still single, and who’d date a guy. Whose company he’d enjoy. Even if—perhaps especially if—he was paying someone for their time, he should have fun with them.
It hit him like a lightning strike the next morning.
“How’s it going Todobroki?” Kirishima was leaning against the counter in the kitchen, watching the coffee maker.
Kirishima. Why hadn’t he considered Kirishima? He had dated both boys and girls in the past. All of them seemed to end amicably, and he was friends with the majority of his exes. Hell, Uraraka gushed about what a good guy he was. He’d seen Kirishima having lunch with other exes. He was peppy, but Shouto was fond of him such that he found it tolerable. He was kind. If he didn’t want to be Shouto’s pretend boyfriend, he wasn’t the type to share it as gossip, or hold it against Shouto. He’d remain “Todobroki.”
During class, Shouto subtly watched Kirishima when he wasn’t focused on assignments. His target sat two seats up and one row over, so Shouto could do it quietly, without anyone knowing what he was up to. He saw Kirishima pass a pencil to Sero with a flash of a smile. Kirishima leaned forward when Present Mic taught, and he was curious if Kirishima loved English, or if, like Shouto he struggled with the language and was trying to catch every nuance. By contrast, Kirishima sat as far back in his seat as possible in Math, his body language communicating that he hated or was scared of the subject. He was most animated in Hero Ethics, which boded well for Shouto as that was his favorite subject, too. It could be something they bonded over.
During training they were paired together. Aizawa wanted to see if Kirishima could break Shouto’s ice, or if it required a quirk more like Bakugo’s explosive one. Shouto made walls of ice with increasing thickness. Once it was a meter thick, Kirishima could eventually break though if he chopped at it enough. But that wouldn’t be efficient. They made note of Kirishima’s progress, and Aizawa gave him some ideas as to how he might break it at that thickness. But after about an hour, Kirishima was panting and Shouto was feeling cold in the way that portended frostbite. He rubbed his warm hand up and down his cold one, chasing away the chill. He noticed Kirishima was also shivering.
“I can warm you up if you want,” he offered.
“Thanks, man!”
Shouto used his left hand and warmed the air around both of them as they talked.
“I want to try again tomorrow or if you have time this weekend?” Kirishima said.
“I’m happy to help,” Shouto answered.
“That would be great, thanks.” Kirishima’s pointy smile drew forth a small one from Shouto. His good mood was impossible to ignore, bordering on infectious.
That night after dinner, Shouto waited until he saw Kirishima go upstairs. He took a deep breath and knocked on his door.
“Todobroki! What’s up?”
Shouto swallowed. “Can I come in? I want to ask you something. It’s personal.”
Kirishima stepped out of the way. Shouto stepped in, glancing at the Crimson Riot posters and the punching bag. The moment had arrived and his mind was blank. Instead it came out like a verbal waterfall.
“You know how to date. I, um, don’t? I’m really bad at it.”
“Do you need advice? I could try.” Kirishima slung an arm over Shouto’s shoulders.
“No. I was thinking…like a work-study,” Shouto said.
Kirishima cocked his head. “Are you asking me out?”
Shouto buried his burning face in his hands. “Sort of. Would you mind being my senpai or whatever, and teach me to date by dating me?”
Something flashed across Kirishima’s face. Disappointment? No, it had to be something else.
Shouto swallowed. “Would you be my fake-boyfriend-slash-dating-guru? I could pay you, if you wanted. Or I could talk to my father, Miruko, or Hawks about taking you on for a work study if you wanted a break from Fat Gum?”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. I don’t want your money, and I’m happy with Fat. But explain something to me, first. If we’re ‘dating’ how real do you want it to be? Like would you want to create scenarios and we act them out?” Kirishima crossed his arms over his chest.
“I was thinking it could be real in that other people know we’re a couple. That we’d go out on dates and all that,” Shouto said. “And that you and I wouldn’t date anyone else. We could end after Christmas Eve?” It was September, and just over three months was a lot to ask for.
“Let me think about it tonight? I’ll tell you tomorrow?”
Shouto nodded and excused himself. He had trouble sleeping because of those red eyes. They’d been serious when they were talking, but full of life and vitality during sparring, and tired first thing in the morning. He thought of Kirishima’s hair pulled back in a ponytail when it was product free, and wondered how soft it was. Was he supposed to think about those things? It wasn’t anything different than knowing Yaoyorozu’s favorite teas, or that Tokoyami liked to let Dark Shadow sit on the couch next to him, so he always avoided sitting on his left side. If he were worried about them giving him an answer would he think about them in the same way?
Not long after Shouto’s alarm went off there was a knock on his door. He opened the door to find Kirishima. He stepped back and the other boy came in. A look of surprise crossed his face at the large picture above his desk. It showed Touya in his prison green next to Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shouto.
“Do you talk to him a lot?” Kirishima asked. “I know he turned in Shigaraki and the rest of the League for a shorter sentence and visitor privileges—that was on the news.”
Shouto shrugged. “Like once a month in person, and once a week on the phone. It’s complicated.” Complicated was underselling it. Touya had been replaced by him when his quirk had manifested. It had driven Touya to keep training even after he’d been told to stop because his quirk hurt him. Then Sekoto Peak had happened and he thought his niisan was dead. It explained why Dabi would taunt him, but never threw his fire in Shouto’s direct path. He might hate Shouto for replacing him, but he couldn’t stand to hurt him.
Where do you go from there? They were fumbling a way to bond, usually by badmouthing Endeavor for a good five minutes before they could move on to other things. But Shouto’s training was a sore subject, and hard to avoid because it consumed Shouto’s life. Touya would crack jokes about being glad he’d never gone to high school, but it beneath it was pain. In fact, his mother had told him that Touya was studying to get his high school degree. He had been the smartest of all of them—he’d never had to work for an A, she’d told him. He could talk to Touya about this fake dating thing, perhaps.
“So, I um, thought about your question?” Kirishima finally said. “And you’re my bro. I’ll help you out.”
“Did you want to talk about compensation? I’m going to take up time for the next three…”
Kirishima shook his head violently. “No payment. You’re my friend. End of story.”
“Thank you, Kirishima.”
“Are you okay if our first date is tomorrow night? I already have a pass and I was thinking of dinner and movie on my own. If you get a pass you could come with me?”
Shouto nodded. “I can get one. A perk of being one of the Big Three is that I can get a pass to leave campus easily.”
“Then mark your calendar, Todoroki Shouto, because we’re going on a date. I’ll pick you up at seven.”