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A small clock on a poster-cluttered wall clicks softly, a faded white noise to the pair of boys smushed together in a twin sized bed. Shoto Todoroki lays limp in his boyfriends arms, body between strong legs, feet pushing at each other and his face planted in a firm stomach.
The hand woven between red and white strands comes to a slow halt. A phone chimes. A calloused thumb brushes against his cheekbone briefly, blood vessels popping sweetly at the touch.
"Sho, Kaminari texted. Dinner is ready." A honeyed voice says, bright and chipper around the edges. Midoriya. Shoto grumbles, pushing his face closer to his lovers stomach, slim hands locked behind the freckled boys back. He mumbles something unintelligible into the soft fabric of Midoriya's white shirt. Pop up black ink scratches against his forehead where his face is smushed into.
There's an unitchable urge to open Midoriya up and climb inside of his skin, settle his hands around a beating heart and just hold it. Rest easy and protect the organ; be close to Midoriya, closer, closer, closer.
Ideally, Shoto would want to die smothered in his arms.
Izuku giggles sweetly, "Come on, I'm hungry! We haven't eaten since breakfast and I know you're hungry, too." He supplies thoughtfully. Shoto hums in his agreement, less of a groan this time around. It's true. He is hungry, borderline starving; still, there's nothing that could convince him to peel away from Midoriya's warm body.
Nothing.
There's quietness for a moment. Tapping on a screen, likely Midoriya replying to Kaminari, and in turn there's another ding! shooting right back. It's a different ding, though. Chimes like All Might's theme song. Shoto huffs. "T'l Baguhmo t'fuh ohff." He grumbles intelligently.
Midoriya shifts, thoughtlessly pushing a strand of Todoroki's hair behind his ear. "No, I'm not telling Kacchan to fuck off. I'd rather take my chances kissing Ocha—" Midoriya cuts himself off with a bubbling giggle when trimmed nails dig into his sides, shutting him up.
"Don't finish that." Shoto says with finality, finally, finally—lifting his face up. He, instead, tucks his chin into the boys upper chest to look at him. Midoriya grins down at him with his hands resting on Shoto's shoulders, phone open on the bed by his upper waist.
"Kacchan said to hurry up, by the way. More or less... lovingly?"
Shoto grunts in response, eyes focused on Midoriya's lockscreen that shines—the photo makes Shoto's chest pop with fireworks, a surge of Midoriya rocketing through his veins. It's a picture of them, kissing. Midoriya's arms are pressed flushed against Shoto's chest and Shoto has his hands gripping the boys forearms. Green eyes are wide. Mistletoe hangs over their heads.
At the time, Shoto had no idea it was weird to just kiss Midoriya. Yes, they were dating, but they weren't out to their friends.
He cracks a small smile at the memory.
Shifting his gaze back to said boy, there's something in his eyes right now. Something mischievous. Shoto's nails loosen, fingers just holding at the boys hips, a heavy contentness in his chest that hoods his eyelids. "You look smug. What's the reason?" He questions indignantly.
Midoriya grins, shifting his eyes to the side woefully, "Oh, it's nothing.... Just, Kaminari may've mentioned a certain childhood friend of mine made din—" And just like that, Shoto Todoroki hops off the bed, a new liveliness in his previously tired and content eyes. Midoriya cackles, shifting up onto his knees—the cotton sheets bunch up at his ankles when he rocks back onto his heels to sit. "Okay, well—"
"Why aren't you up?" Todoroki cuts him off again with a hand already twisting a brass doorknob.
Midoriya bursts into high pitched laughter again, pink love singeing his throat and pulling clumsily at his insides. His bones crackle with fizzy happiness, organs twisting into heart shapes. That's gross. Too weird, but he loves his boyfriend. So, so much. "I'm—okay! Geez! Don't look at me like that, I'm coming!" He cries.
"I'm already gone. Literally at the elevator? Midoriya, come on!"
Settled down at the table, a cold hand intertwined under the wood with a scarred hand, Shoto raises a smoking spoonful of katsudon to his mouth.
"You two fuckin' morons took long enough to wrap em. Food was probably cold before you pulled out, Deku."
"KACCHAN!"