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Todoroki's glaring at Katsuki.
He's been doin' that a lot lately, this week especially has been full of the whole squinty eyed pursed lip stare that Katsuki inwardly bristles at. He's not sure what the fuck he's done wrong (absolute fucking nothing), but the glaring's getting real old real fast.
When he brought it up over drinks with the idiot brigade, Raccoon Eyes mentioned something about bedroom eyes, and the dumbass statement still took precedence over exploding the shot glass and getting kicked out the bar.
It's not bedroom eyes.
But maybe-
(he'd like it to be.)
And Todoroki's approaching closer now, his glare loosening into his usual blank stare. Katsuki looks up from his desk, gripping the pen tightly in his hand.
"Bakugou," Todoroki says.
"The fuck you want," Katsuki answers.
He's scribbling his signature for the tenth time that day, ready to put the paper on the finished pile of paperwork.
"Are you free later today?"
His attempt to dot the i streaks across the page.
"Hah?!"
Red streaks across his cheeks too, and he tilts his head down to avoid being seen. He can feel the gaze though, heavy and-
"You end in fifteen minutes right?" Todoroki tilts his head, and Katsuki's heart goes sideways.
"Are you a stalker now," Katsuki bites, defensive.
And he does that- fuckin' deflect because he's incapable of brain function when it comes to this idiot apparently. The pen gets sweaty from the heat of his palms, and he lets it go with a noisy roll across the desk. Todoroki stops it from falling using his stomach as he forms a barricade against the desk, and Katsuki’s forced to look up at the tall fucker. He tucks his hand under his desk, bunches the fabric of his uniform.
Fuck.
"We've had the same schedule for two weeks now," Todoroki says dryly, and-
yeah. Katsuki knows this. Knows it in the way they walk to the station together and take the train opposing each other. Knows it in the way he sees the back of Todoroki's silhouette stark against the sun as the train doors shut, gone; but the smile goodbye lingers a few moments longer.
"I might be free," Katsuki offers. "Whatcha want?"
"Ah... you don't have to come if you're busy," Todoroki backtracks. He tucks a stray hair behind his ear, loose from the braid he's sporting. "But do you want to come help me look for glasses?"
His voice dies in his throat. Todoroki looks- hesitant. Hands behind his back, back straight- too straight, maybe. He's nervous.
Katsuki says, "'course I'll fuckin' come."
Todoroki smiles.
.
The secretary waves goodbye and the door shuts behind them as they walk out of the agency. It's a chilly day out, and Katsuki tightens the scarf around his neck ever so slightly. Todoroki walks in a loose sweater beside him and Katsuki scowls, hands deep in his pockets. Must be nice being seasonally obtuse.
"So," Katsuki coughs out. Todoroki blinks at him. "Your vision's fucked huh."
And- fuck. Katsuki feels his soul leave his body, can see himself waving sayonara at the dumbass comment. Todoroki only hums.
"It's been bad for a long time now," Todoroki admits.
"And you're only getting em now?" Katsuki demands. "Your vision's important, Halfie. Especially in our line of work."
"I know." Todoroki's smiling, the bastard. He taps at the corner of his eye, ridged red. "I've been wearing contacts for some time. But they've been hurting my eyes when I wear them for too long, so I thought I could get glasses too."
Katsuki swallows. "Huh."
"Mm."
"Well. Ya know what style you want?"
Todoroki shrugs. "I was hoping you could help with that."
Well fuck. Katsuki thinks of the circular ones, thin gold frames that would bring out Todoroki's eyes or however the fuck that shit worked. Thinks of the thin rectangular ones like a sexy librarian and-
"-ugou? We're here."
Yeah. This'd either be the best or worst fuckin' idea.
Todoroki pushes the door open, then holds it out for Katsuki. There's a salesperson that greets them with a flush on her cheeks, but rather than asking for help from a fuckin' professional, Todoroki kindly waves her aside.
"I have all the help I need, thank you." Todoroki smiles politely, and she bows.
Todoroki starts from the very first case by the door, eyes roaming from one to the other quickly. He seems uncertain almost, wanting to touch but twitching hand staying close to his side after a moment’s linger. He looks at Katsuki too- stolen glances that he pretends not to catch in case they lock eyes and his fuckin' traitor ears start turning to a lobster.
"There's so many options," Todoroki reveres.
Katsuki follows him to another case, looking at the rectangular frames to the large oval ones he'd seen his old hag don once. Yeah, fuck no.
"See any you like?" Katsuki asks.
He traces the edge of a thin circular one, which Todoroki tries picking up right after; the first so far. Their hands touch, linger, jolt away awkwardly.
"I'll try this," Todoroki mumbles slightly, then puts it on. He brushes a hand through his loose hair, turning to Katsuki. "How do I look?"
Cute, Katsuki thinks, but doesn't say anything lest a confession bumbles out. Fuck, he needs to get a grip. Now.
"That bad?" Todoroki asks, after a beat.
It's- disheartened. He moves to remove the glasses, but Katsuki puts a hand over Todoroki's, cold one cooling the nitroglycerin threatening to bubble over and explode more than just his haywire feelings.
"It looks good," Katsuki gnashes out.
"Really?"
Really, like Todoroki Shouto could look bad.
"Really."
"So- should I just get these?"
And listen. Katsuki's all about efficiency, alright? He weaves in and outta grocery stores like a man on a mission and does patrols without any dillydallying. But spending time with Todoroki isn't about efficiency, not this.
Katsuki's not sure what it's about. But he doesn't want it to end.
"Keep em as an option," Katsuki says casually. "Can't hurt to look at others, right?"
Todoroki smiles a little, and Katsuki sees mismatched eyes crinkle under the lens, pretty, pretty. "Right."
He takes the glasses off, and places it on a tray to safeguard. Then they're off to look at more; triangular ones, sunglasses the shape of stars, thick black frames.
And fuck, Katsuki doesn't think it would be possible for all of em to look good on one person (shouldn't they vary according to face shape or whatever the fuck), but they fuckin' do.
"Oi, try these on," Katsuki says, and shoves a pair of chunky orange frames into Todoroki's hands.
See. Orange should clash, yeah? There's no fuckin' way he should be able to pull it off. And it's not like he's trying to sabotage the Prettiest Hero of the Year (twice), but it's for- science. And. Orange is his colour, so-
Katsuki looks up just in time to see Todoroki pull off red, white, and orange. He's blinking, slow at the mirror then at Katsuki. All demure and shit and gorgeous gorgeous.
(His fuckin' colour.)
"Huh," is all Katsuki says. "Orange isn't bad on you."
Todoroki lights up. "I like orange."
"Yeah?" Katsuki clears his throat, looks away. "Me too."
"I know. It looks good on you."
Todoroki puts the orange frames in the tray, then zooms to the other end of the store. Katsuki pauses-
(maybe, maybe-)
wipes his palms on his pants, then goes to follow. He is King God Explosion Murder and not Blush like a Dumbass, alright? Even if his face looks the latter right now, holy fuckin’ fuck.
The orange's replaced with nude white oval ones, which make his eyes wider than usual.
"I like the white," Todoroki says.
"They look good," Katsuki says, thinks you look good asshole, what the fuck.
Todoroki huffs a soft laugh, then removes the glasses. "You've said that to all of them."
"You think I'd lie, hah?"
"No." Todoroki's fingers curl against the counter, tight. "I know you wouldn't lie."
Todoroki picks up a delicate frame, thin golden rectangular ones that he holds out. Katsuki's expecting his heart go flip the fuck out for the thirtieth time that hour, only for it to go wild as Todoroki steps closer.
One, two.
Three-
they're close. Todoroki tucks in blond hair behind Katsuki's ears and gently presses the glasses on his face, tender.
"They suit you," Todoroki says, turns shy. "Can you see?"
"I can see just fine," Katsuki swallows.
He's not sure what game Todoroki's playing at, but maybe it's the let's turn Katsuki to a fuckin' puddle game that he always seems to be doing.
"Can you see how much I like you?" Todoroki adds, and.
Hold the fuckin' phone. It's ringing a prank call, distantly. But-
eyes, vulnerable. Todoroki's looking at him softly, biting his bottom lip pink to red. Katsuki wants to kiss it swollen, then realizes he can.
Yet.
Katsuki looks to the right, grabs the first pair of glasses he sees. They're placed on Todoroki's face, rushed, a bit smushed with none of the delicacy done prior but he's- trying, alright? He's got rough hands but he tucks the dual coloured bangs behind the ears gently as can be, thumb ghosting over the small hoop earring.
(He wants to tug at it. But-
later.
Because it seems like later was a thing, they could be a thing; not just in dreams or thoughts or daydreams he deemed futile.)
He pulls Todoroki closer, closer until he sees pretty eyes soft under the rose coloured lenses. They magnify the intensity, the small mole at the side of the eye, the way the scar crackles and eyelashes blink.
"If it's taken you this long to see if I like you, you really do need these, huh," Katsuki whispers, and eyes widen and crinkle and crow's feet appear for moments gone too soon.
Then he leans in and gives in to his teenage urge to kiss Todoroki Shouto breathless.
.
"You busy Friday?" Katsuki asks. "You end at six, right?"
Todoroki's beside him, swinging the bag with his latest purchase slightly. He's biting his lip. "You a stalker now?"
"Oi, oi, the schedule's posted in the office!"
There's a grin on his face, teasing and free. "Hn. What are you planning Friday?"
"M'gonnacookforyou," Katsuki says. He wants to be confident in this, but he doesn't know why the fuck his tongue didn't get the memo. "You. Me. My place. Homemade soba. Sound good?"
Todoroki beams, full force of it directed at Katsuki. His heart gets punted to the sun, then the moon as a warm pinkie links with his.
"It's a date," Todoroki says, happy.
(It ends up being the best fuckin' date, photo of a stray soba noodle in Shouto's hair and mentsuyu sauce on Katsuki's cheek still framed on their mantelpiece years down the road.
The glasses Shouto first tried on, the ones Katsuki first touched, lie snug on his face, then and now.)
fin.