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They chose to go out for a celebration dinner, and... to talk about how to proceed in their relationship from here. Izuku didn’t bother to ask permission from his mother, simply sending her a text, then putting his phone on vibrate and ignoring all her calls and texts. She didn’t send that many. Izuku thinks she’s given up on him just as much as he’s given up her.
The thought should make him sad, but... it only made him numb when he thought about it.
He looked down at his medal and it was easy to forget about the bad feelings she gave him. He did it, with Hitoshi and Shouto, and they were all going to be heroes together. So what if she didn’t support him? So what if she didn’t believe in him or love him? He found love elsewhere just fine. He found support elsewhere just fine, and he did it all without her.
Hitoshi called his moms, and they gave him permission, as long as he was back home by 9 PM, and Shouto, like Izuku, didn’t ask permission, though he didn’t even contact his family.
They chose a nice tempura restaurant to eat at. It seemed like the perfect celebratory meal. They wore their medals proudly, eager to enjoy their accomplishments for just this one night — Izuku and Hitoshi had had precious few things like this and often they were snatched away when they did have anything good, and Shouto often had things claimed as Endeavor’s accomplishments, because he was “Endeavor’s masterpiece”. Tonight, they wanted to enjoy this as something that was solely their own. Something that couldn’t be stolen.
They understood each other a little too much sometimes and wished they didn’t. Wished they didn’t all know how it hurt, to have things taken, and taken, and taken.
They were given a nice hidden away table when the hostess noticed their medals. As they always did when they went somewhere to eat, they chose to sit in one side of a booth, so they could all be together, no one excluded on the other side alone. This time, it was Shouto’s turn to sit in the middle. Heads were promptly rested on his shoulders, as they wiggled a little closer, and Shouto smiled — Izuku couldn’t help but smile, too, knowing that Shouto was this comfortable with them, that their presence brought him happiness.
Izuku remembers once, when they were all stilted and touch-starved — they were all still touch-starved, he thinks, but now, at least, they can find comfort and safety in each other. Izuku had never felt so safe in his life before, or, at least, he doesn’t remember a time where he felt this safe, where he had people who made him feel this safe. And really, who would have made him feel safe? Bakugou, who’d turned on him almost right away? His mother, who almost immediately started seeing him as glass, simultaneously smothering him and neglecting him? His father, who ran away the first chance he got making sure to leave parting words designed to hurt him when he was only four at the time?
No, there had been no one for a very long time.
They all order together, ordering a pot of gyokuro tea and a variety of dishes so they can share and pass them around and allowing themselves to cheat on their diets and have sodas along their dinner — although really, the whole day has already been a cheat day with the number of boba teas they’ve had, but to be fair, that was just what was easiest to get besides water, and with neither Izuku nor Shouto having experienced a festival of any type before, they’d wanted to go a little crazy, at least as much as they could as participants, and it’d ended coming out in spending ridiculous amount on boba tea.
It was, of course, Endeavor’s money spent.
Lately, Izuku’s mother had taken to withholding the pocket money she used to give him in an attempt to make him less defiant. It didn’t make him less defiant, not when she wanted him to give up his dreams and his friends. Instead, he’d taken to stealing 1000 yen or 2000 yen — far, far less than she’d used to give him; he knows he used to be spoiled in this regard — from her purse once or twice a week. She never noticed, not when she had so much, and he stockpiled it away, in case she started withholding other things from him, like school supplies or food or something. He trusted her less and less these days to take care of him like she claimed to want to.
They came to talk about the... flirting they’d done all day... maybe even longer than that. And Izuku could finally call it that. It had finally become blatant enough that even Izuku couldn’t deny it, once Hitoshi had gotten bold enough to use pickup lines on them both. But none of them talked.
It wasn’t awkward.
It was never awkward between them, Izuku felt. He never minded the silence.
He closed his eyes and leaned further into Shouto’s side, and Shouto only laughed, and wrapped an arm around him.
“Don’t fall asleep on us now,” he teased. “We have things to talk about and a dinner to eat. The tea will get cold; they’ve just brought it out.”
Izuku hummed. “If I fell asleep, it would only be your fault for being so comfortable, you criminal.”
Hitoshi snorted, then there was the sound of ceramic hitting the table. “You almost made me snort tea out my nose, asshole!”
“That would only be because of your crimes, too,” Izuku replied teasingly, opening his eyes to peek around Shouto to look at Hitoshi.
Hitoshi laid a hand on his chest, gasping dramatically and pretending to swoon. “So cruel, Izuku. Do you not love me?”
Izuku paused, opening his mouth — then closing it. He knew it was just teasing but... he didn’t know. Emotions were hard to understand sometimes. Especially ones like this, complicated ones, ones that were sharing himself with others. Growing up as he had, with Bakugou and his mother and father as his only real sources of love — it didn’t teach him what love really was. He knew Bakugou held no love for him, nor his father. He knew whatever love his mother had, it was twisted, unhealthy. Izuku wasn’t sure it really counted either.
But the way he felt for Hitoshi and Shouto, he didn’t feel this way for anyone else. This feeling was special. It felt important, and Izuku thought that meant something — something he wanted to put into words, but he couldn’t even explain it to himself.
It scared him. He was going to disappoint them, when they would share their hearts so easily, and he would not be able to give them the same.
Hitoshi seemed to realize he’d started something, all the same. “It’s okay, if you’re not ready to talk about it.”
“I... don’t know how to,” Izuku says after a long silence. “I want to, but I don’t know how to.”
“Do you want to talk about something else over dinner and we can try again after we eat?” Shouto suggests, reaching out to take one of Izuku’s hands in his. “Or we can just wait a bit, or someone else can talk. Whatever you need.”
Izuku looks down at the hand in his. It comforts him. It always comforts him, to have them close, to have one or both of their hands in his. He tangles their fingers together, rubs his thumb back and forth. Shouto does something he’s never done before and raises their joined hands and presses a light kiss to Izuku’s knuckles. It stirs something warm and bright in Izuku’s chest, something like sunshine. He feels light, and warm. He sighs happily and leans his head back against Shouto’s shoulder.
“Can we wait until after dinner is done? I want to think about it, for a long time,” Izuku asks, with his face pressed into Shouto’s side.
In response, Hitoshi simply starts asking about Izuku’s theory he’d brought up during lunch with Yaoyorozu about Mount Lady dating Kamui Woods (And isn’t it something, to know that he’s listened to, even when he’s talking about something unimportant? It’s just another thing that sends him reeling and fills him with warmth.), and it’s enough to carry them until the food they ordered starts to arrive, but in the back of Izuku’s mind, he’s thinking about the feeling in his chest, about how to word the way Shouto and Hitoshi are special, about the way Izuku just doesn’t know these things.
He’s going to get it right, because Hitoshi and Shouto deserve nothing less.
They eat while passing around some of everything. Hitoshi, as the one closest to the tea, ends up being the one who gets to pour it for everyone, while Izuku, closest to the wall, keeps getting jostled into it, but he enjoys the pressure of being pressed between Shouto and the wall — it reminds him of the pressure of his bright yellow weighted blanket almost, when Shouto doesn’t move for a minute or two and Izuku is just stuck there until he starts to feel almost boneless and relaxed. Sometimes, he thinks Shouto’s keeping him pressed there on purpose. It’s easier for him to think like that, anyway, so he doesn’t comment on it.
There’s not as much talking but Shouto and Hitoshi share how they threatened All Might because they were worried he’d be mean to him, giving Izuku that warm feeling again, and Izuku shares how he told All Might to get fucked, basically, which got him a lot of praise and had him turning very, very red.
By the time they finished all the food they ordered, they were very full — it was frankly, a lot of food. But they were all teenage boys who had exercised all day and also all had high-caloric diets anyway to maintain their muscle mass, so it was not like it was really an issue.
They ordered another pot of tea, so the restaurant won’t want to get rid of them, and prepared for what was probably going to be a long talk. Izuku knew the others would talk first, if he wanted them to, if he needed more time, but really, if he waited, he’d lose his nerve.
So he clenches his fists, and talks.
“I don’t think I know what love is,” he speaks quietly, quiet enough that Hitoshi is forced to lean in to hear him. He keeps his eyes carefully fixed on the table. “But I think if I feel it for anyone, it’s for you. That’s what this feeling in my chest is, right? That’s what it has to be? What I feel for the two of you — I don’t feel it for anyone else. You’re special, more important to me than anyone else. That’s love, right?”
There’s silence for a moment then Shouto reaches over and takes one of Izuku’s fists in his and gently rubs at it until Izuku starts to loosen his grip.
“I didn’t think I could know what love was until I met you, Izuku.” Shouto smiles at him, taking his other hand to rub at that one too. “Then you pulled me in, gentle as can be, easing all the pain, taking away that loneliness, and you introduced me to Hitoshi.” He looks over to Hitoshi, still rubbing at Izuku’s tense hands. “And the two of you showed me a world where I wasn’t alone, where it wasn’t all pain and fear and loneliness. Falling in love was slow, and gentle, and easy. That’s what love is for me. I think that love is different for you, but it’s still love. There doesn’t have to be a wrong way, does there?”
He reaches over and pours a cup of tea and places it in Izuku’s hands.
Izuku looks down at the cup of tea, feeling the warmth soak in his bones, then looks back to Shouto’s earnest, open face. Slow, and gentle, and easy. That’s what love is for me. Izuku closes his eyes and draws in a breath. Shouto loves him, loves Hitoshi. Shouto loves him, loves Quirkless Izuku, weird, strange Izuku, who talks too much, who sometimes doesn’t have the right words. Shouto loves him, despite all the flaws, and Izuku knows he has many, has been told over and over he’s unlovable.
He opens his eyes, and Shouto’s still giving him that same, soft look. Maybe he really is overthinking it all. Who is he to decide what their feelings are, if their feelings are wrong? He must not be unlovable, if Shouto can look at him like this.
“No, maybe it really is that easy after all.” Izuku murmurs into the cup, taking a sip, and to say so in spite of his mother, who always said that she’d be the only one who’d ever love him... to say so in spite of all the bullies, in spite of Bakugou, who always said no one could ever love someone broken like him... it fills him with warmth, right to the tips of his toes.
Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable.
Well, it wasn’t so, after all.
Hitoshi reached around Shouto’s shoulders so that he could reach Izuku too, his hand able to reach Izuku’s shoulder like this. Izuku laid his head on Shouto’s shoulder so Hitoshi could reach him better, and Hitoshi buried his hand into Izuku’s hair immediately, fingers gently scratching at his scalp. Izuku leaned into the touch without question.
“I don’t know when I fell in love, only that it was a little thing, and then it was everything all at once. You two were laughing at some joke I made during lunch one day, and I realized I wanted to hear you both laugh like that every day, see you two smile every day. I realized I couldn’t imagine a future without you both in it, that my idea of a perfect future was one where I have Izuku on one side and Shouto on the other.” When Izuku tilted his head, he realized Hitoshi was turning redder and redder.
He knows red is supposed to clash with purple, but he still thinks Hitoshi is awfully pretty like this.
Hitoshi starts spluttering, and Izuku realizes he was muttering again. Shouto laughs and calls them both cute, and now Izuku can feel his own face getting warm. He buries his face in his hands and whines.
After that, there’s silence again for a while. They drink the tea, and in between sips, Izuku keeps laying his head back on Shouto’s shoulder for more hair pets from Hitoshi — and Hitoshi obliges without hesitation.
Finally, Hitoshi breaks the silence. “So... what are we? Boyfriends?”
“I...” Izuku hesitates for a moment, then he pushes through. He doesn’t want to do wrong, not when it comes to Hitoshi and Shouto. “There’s going to be a lot going on, if we’re transferring to Heroics. My mom... she might fight it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to give you the time you both deserve. Can we wait until after?”
“If that’s what you need, Izu,” Hitoshi replies without hesitation.
Shouto nods next to him. If either of them are upset by what Izuku’s said, it doesn’t show on their faces.
“Look at me, Izuku,” Shouto reaches over and takes Izuku’s hand. Izuku glances up. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
And when Izuku looks into those mismatched eyes, he believes him. Everything’s okay.
They pay their bill and leave, hand in hand, closer than ever, assured in their bond.