Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Touya slams his open palm against the locker and two startled amber eyes turn to him. 

The bell school had rung about fifteen minutes ago and most of the students had already gone home. Not Takami Keigo, though. Keigo always takes his time leaving the 3-A classroom, walking to the lockers and changing into his street shoes. Touya had studied his routine during the last few days to find the best time to approach him.

But maybe this wasn’t the best way to approach him—loud, bold, and straightforward. Keigo looks back at him with an arched eyebrow—no tie, blazer open, hair tousled and wild, as if he had never seen a comb before.

He’s the most popular guy at school, and Touya has tackled him just like that. Usually, he doesn’t care about popularity and shit, but a sudden wave of anxiety washes over him when lazy amber eyes land on him.

How do you talk to people again?

(What if he says no?

Whatever.

He can always drag Tenko along. Whether he likes it or not.

It wouldn’t be the first time Touya was rejected.)

He loudly clears his throat before talking.

“Hey, Takami. I heard you like Endeavor.”

Keigo hardly stifles a laugh. His feathers, once ruffled and bristled, have now softened.

Okay. That catchphrase was terrible, but no one said there was a proper way to ask a stranger to be your fake date.

(He can’t believe he’s actually doing this.

Tenko had bet a thousand yen Touya would chicken out at the last minute.

He can almost see the grimace in his friend’s face when he hands over the money, defeated.)

“Very funny, Todoroki. Where’s the trick?” Keigo counters, closing the door to his locker.

Strangers aren’t exactly what they are, though. Everyone knows who Todoroki Touya is. Despite him. It’s not exactly easy to hide you’re the son of the Number Three, soon to be Number Two Hero, especially when Touya is the exact copy of his father—flaming red hair, deep blue eyes, same surly attitude. Their quirk isn’t the same, though. A reason big enough for Endeavor not wanting his son to pursue a hero career. A reason enough for Touya not to give a shit about what his father has to say and enroll at Yuuei anyway.

What better way to take revenge than fucking with the reputation of Endeavor’s alma matter? Well, messing up the family dinner to celebrate his father’s promotion as the Number Two Hero by showing up with a brand new boyfriend.

Brand new boyfriend he doesn’t have.

Yet.

“No tricks, pal,” he says, hands in his pockets, leaning against the locker wall. “I’m just offering an opportunity for a meet and greet with your idol.”

Keigo’s left eye twitches, his feathers stirring awkwardly. “How… did you know?”

If everyone knows who Todoroki Touya is, then everyone and their mothers know who Takami Keigo is. Already in his third year of high school, he’s a celebrity at Yuuei. First place in the Sports Festival three years in a row, internship offers rain on him, and there’s even a fan club at school devoted to the Winged Hero Hawks. Class president, always with the top grades, he’s all Endeavor wished Touya was and more. Which makes him the perfect candidate for Touya’s plan to ruin Endeavor’s night.

He points at the little Endeavor keychain hanging from Keigo’s bag. “You’re not exactly trying to hide it.”

His wings are quick to drape over the telltale keychain. The blush dusting his cheeks is not easy to hide, though. 

“So what?” Keigo snaps. “As if you don’t have a favorite hero too.”

He does: All Might, but that’s a different story entirely and Touya doesn’t want to get into details.

What he needs right now is easy: a yes or a no.

“Then what do you say? Do you want to meet Endeavor?”

“Depends. What do I need to do?”

The idea had popped into Touya’s head one day and it felt so logical, so foolproof, the perfect plan. But now—

Now he looks down at his feet to say, “Huh… pretend to be my date.”

Well. That’s it.

Touya has dropped the bomb, but it didn’t explode loudly as he expected, the entire world blowing to pieces.

What followed wasn’t an explosion, but silence. A long, heavy, awkward silence.

Deafening, even.

Touya doesn’t dare to look up from his slippers.

(When he explained his plan to his friends, Tenko deadpanned and said, ‘Huh, so you pretend to make a fool of yourself in front of the most popular guy at school? Good luck with that.’

Now Touya understands what he meant.)

Touya experiences at least five different stages of embarrassment before Keigo blurts a “That’s a very elaborate way of asking me out, Todoroki-kun.”

Blue eyes jump to Keigo just to find a puzzled smile on his stupid face and suddenly going to this dinner with Tenko doesn’t feel like a bad idea anymore.

(The guy isn’t eager to go, but well, neither is Touya.)

“I don’t want to go out with you, idiot,” Touya snarls, rolling his eyes. “I’m just asking you to pretend to be my date once. One day. That’s all.”

Keigo leans a hand against the locker and crosses his ankles. Headphone thrown around his neck, red earrings, untucked shirt. The guy looks so effortlessly cool that Touya is almost jealous.

“And what do I win from acting like your lovey-dovey boyfriend?”

Touya’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. Huh. That was fast. He would’ve expected more reluctance on his part. Maybe the secret of Keigo’s success is never saying no, especially if the offer includes meeting a famous hero.

“Attending the Hero Billboard Chart in the front row and then having dinner with Endeavor and my family,” he says, almost with a shrug, like it isn’t a big deal.

A smug smile spread across his face at the sight of Keigo’s stunned expression.

“You… you say… the Hero Billboard Chart?” 

Indeed, for someone enrolled in the Hero Course, attending the Hero Billboard Chart must be like Christmas, but for Touya who is enrolled in General Studies, it’s total bullshit.

Keigo shakes his head, snapping out of his astonishment, before he frowns and studies Touya from head to toe, warily, closely.

“Wait a minute. Why me, of all people?” he asks, tilting his head to the side in a bird-like gesture. “You don’t know me. Don’t you have other friends to go with?”

They don’t know each other, but they do, in a way. The son of a famous hero, the best student at school. Every time they pass each other in the hallways, their glances linger longer than necessary. Touya has noticed, and Hawks is too smart to not have noticed too.

“Do I look like the guy who has a lot of friends?” Keigo presses his lips in a tight line and looks away. Touya nods. “You see…”

“Huh, heh… what about this guy with black hair and gloves you’re always with?”

Touya blinks, stunned. “Tenko?” he snorts. “Tenko ain’t shit. Besides, Endeavor doesn’t give a damn about him. I need to pretend I’m going out with someone Endeavor would like.”

There goes again the deep flush creeping up Keigo’s cheeks. It’s almost cute. If Keigo was Touya’s type, he would think it’s cute.

Keigo twirls the keychain between his fingers in an absent-minded gesture. “Do… do you think Endeavor will like me?”

“Oh, he will love you,” Touya replies bitterly.

Maybe too bitterly.

000-03-XXX @ Keigo : this is my number

Keigo @ Fake BF: can i save you as fake bf?

Keigo @ Fake BF: i already saved you as fake bf

Touya @ Bidbrain: stupid

Touya @ Birbdrain: do wtv

“And you said yes!?” Rumi almost shrieks the next day as they are walking home from school, and well, maybe Keigo deserves it. Maybe he should learn how to say no.

Hard thing to do when he hasn’t had many opportunities in his life.

When you live like this, everything and anything is an opportunity.

And certainly, Keigo can never say no when Endeavor is involved.

“He bribed me, saying I could go to the Hero Billboard Chart and meet Endeavor.” He brings his arms to the back of his neck, resting his head against his crossed fingers. “What did you expect me to do!?”

“That you didn’t act like a freaking fanboy!!” She laughs.

Keigo can only pout silently. He has no way to refute his friend—that’s what he is: a freaking fanboy.

It's a late summer blue day, and the breeze stirs the treetops, filling the silence left by Keigo.

“Anyway," Rumi continues. "I didn’t know Todoroki Touya was gay, did you?.”

Walking at her side, Keigo's wings puff up anxiously. 

“Huh… actually… I don’t know either.”

Rumi’s ears shoot up to the sky. “You didn’t ask him!?”

“I… we… we didn’t talk about that.”

“What the hell did you talk about, then?”

Not much. Mainly about the Hero Billboard Chart. The event would take place next week, so the plan was to meet at a nearby subway station, go to the event, and then Keigo would tag along for the family dinner where Touya would present his boyfriend. No hugs, no kisses, just holding hands will be enough. It will certainly be awkward as fuck, especially because he has talked with Touya only once—yesterday. But Keigo is a hardcore Endeavor fan and he would do anything to meet his idol.

He will only have to pretend he likes the guy for one day. It wouldn’t be the first time he pretended he liked someone.

“Well, did you tell him you like guys, at least?”

Keigo tilts his head to the side. “And why is that relevant? I just want to meet Endeavor and, huh, he wants… I’m not exactly sure what he wants.”

Rumi stops at the street where they usually part ways—she goes home to her many siblings, and Keigo goes to the tiny flat rented by the Commission.

“You know,” she says with a mocking smile, the blue sky fading to orange in the distance. “For being a recommended student, you’re pretty dense sometimes.”

Keigo takes revenge on Rumi the next day, during their sparring session in the schoolyards. Or at least he tries to. He’s never been the best at close combat, unlike Rumi, who can easily send him flying with one of her kicks. 

The perks of being a bunny. 

If he could only use his blade feathers during close-combat lessons. If only…

The good thing is that sparring with Rumi helps him train his reflexes. Lately, he feels like a master of dodging.

Except when he doesn’t.

When he least expects it, he receives a kick from Rumi on the side and ends up landing on the other side of the court. Everything happens too fast for him to react, but at least his wings cushion the fall. 

His wings drape over his body as if that could protect him from another of Rumi’s attacks. And so, he lies for a moment on the training grounds.

The blue sky contrasts with the white school buildings. 

From an open window, Keigo catches a glimpse of fire-red hair and piercing eyes as blue as the sky.

Touya @ Birdbrain: how is that you won the sport festival like that lmao

Keigo @ Fake BF: babe

Keigo @ Fake BF: we haven’t even dated for two days and you’re already stalking me?

Touya @ Birdbrain: we are not dating, stupid

“Huh? Takami Keigo?” Fuyumi looks up from her homework, her gray eyes looking bigger than they are behind her thick glasses. 

A bit of machine oil soils the tip of her nose and Touya wipes it off unceremoniously with a thumb. 

He knows his sister has to finish an assignment for the Support Course, but he likes to be annoying and Fuyumi doesn’t complain. 

Striding a swivel chair, he twirls around in the workshop.

“Hu-huh. What do you think? Endeavor will be so pissed off, won’t he?” He chuckles as he pictures the look on Endeavor’s face when he witnesses his eldest son arrive arm in arm with a boy at one of the biggest milestones of his career: reaching All Might’s shadow as the Number Two Hero.

The Todorokis, that traditional and conservative family where Endeavor comes from, showing up publicly with a gay son that inherited a defective body and a defective quirk. Endeavor would hate for everyone to find out, and Touya would enjoy every second of his public shame. Even if it’s at his own expense.

Fuyumi doesn’t look so amused, though, and goes back to her project, tightening a screw on a robotic arm.

“I don’t know, Touya-nii. I feel bad that you want to bring the poor guy into a family argument,” she says, and Touya frowns. He should’ve known Fuyumi was a party pooper. “What Takami sees in him as the hero Endeavor is different from what we see in him as our father.”

Touya rests his forearms on the back of the chair and shrugs. “He will only see his true colors, then.”

“Besides.” Fuyumi points at her brother with her screwdriver. “I don’t think he wants to make a bad impression on his idol.”

Touya snickers, but there’s a sour grimace in his face. “Endeavor won’t take it out on him. We already know who he likes to hate the most.”

“Touya…” Fuyumi mumbles, dropping her hands to her lap. She wears oil-stained leather gloves, and her jumpsuit has seen better days. “I don’t like it when you expose yourself like this. You’ll only end up more hurt and resentful of our father. Of our family.”

Touya hates it when Fuyumi looks at him like that—with pity. He needs no one’s pity.

He exhales sharply, and he gets up from his chair. A spring squeaks at the lack of weight. 

“I’d better let you finish your homework in peace.”

Keigo @ Fake BF: is there a dress code or something?

Touya @ Birdbrain: do your worst.

Keigo @ Fake BF: ...

Keigo @ Fake BF: you know you’re not helping, right?

The best part of going to the Hero Billboard Chart gala is getting to meet in person all the amazing heroes at the top of the chart that always felt so far and inaccessible to him, even if Keigo is studying to become a hero himself. He knows he could use his contacts at the Commission to meet them, but his handlers always told him that he was still too young to meet the big names, that he wasn’t ready yet. 

Too bad they sent him to Yuuei for his hero studies and he can rub shoulders with people who can open doors for him. Like Touya. Touya was his shortcut.

The bad part is that Keigo has nothing decent enough to wear.

Touya isn’t of much help either.

“Did he really write ‘do your worst’?” Yuu complains, leaning over Keigo’s shoulder to spy his phone screen. “He’s not trying hard to get you to go.”

Sitting in the mall’s food court, Keigo blows bubbles in his iced coffee. “He knows I will go whatever it takes,” he mutters. “I just don’t want to go overdressed or underdressed.”

Rumi twirls her coffee in her hands, ice cubes rattling against the plastic. “Just don't put on your sweats and all will be fine.”

Keigo arches an eyebrow. “Since when do you give fashion advice?”

Rumi kicks him under the table, and maybe he deserves it.

While they shop for clothes, his friends ask him if he has spoken to Touya in person again and are surprised when he says he hasn’t. Keigo doesn’t know if they have much more to say to each other, anyway. It’s not as if they had become friends all of a sudden. It would be the same thing if Touya had an extra ticket to a movie and invited Keigo to fill the spot. There’s not much more than that and Keigo doesn’t think there will be much more either after the Hero Billboard Chart.

And well, if he secures an internship at Endeavor agency, he won’t complain.

Keigo @ Fake BF: i bought the shortest dress in the most shocking pink i could find.

Touya @ Birdbrain: that’s what i’m talking about.

Keigo @ Fake BF: jk. i’ll just use black.

Touya @ Birdbrain: booo. i got my hopes high for nothing. 

Natsuo is barely thirteen, and he’s already taller than his older brother. Touya doesn’t want to know what will happen when Shouto hits his growth spurt.

So much for being born first.

Sometimes, Touya thinks Natsuo invites him to play basketball in their backyard hoop just to humiliate him.

It’s working.

Touya hunches over and rests his hands on his knees, catching his breath. The damp shirt clings to his back.

Meanwhile, Natsuo hasn’t sweated shit, and spins the basketball in one finger.

“So, Fuyumi also knows about your Masterplan?” he asks.

Still hunched over, Touya looks up at him from under his red locks. Natsuo is tall and stocky like their father, but inherited their mother’s snow-white hair. Touya, on the other hand, inherited their mother’s weakling body and Endeavor’s flaming hair. Genetics are a weird thing.

“Yep. You and Fuyumi know. Follow my lead on that day, okay?”

Natsuo pulls his eyebrows together and holds the ball against his chest.

“Humm, I don’t think we’ll have a problem, but Shouto…”

Touya wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “Huh? What about Shouto?”

“Hum, well…” Natsuo scratches his cheek. “Shouto doesn’t know how to lie.”

Suddenly, the realization dawns on him.

Shit. Shouto doesn’t know how to lie. 

Touya @ Birdbrain: hey

Touya @ Birdbrain: we need to talk

Keigo @ Fake BF: no dumping me until i meet Endeba-san TT_TT

Keigo doesn’t know why he’s nervous if he doesn’t even like the guy and they aren’t actually dating. Climbing the stairs to the rooftop, he shoves his hands in his pockets, but his feathers still ruffle anxiously.

Guess that receiving a ‘we need to talk’ is always bad news.

It’s hard not to bark a laugh when Touya tells him his baby brother doesn’t know how to lie.

On the rooftop at lunch time, Touya eats his bento while Keigo munches the sandwich he bought at the cafeteria. He tries to ignore the pang of envy at the sight of his octopus-shaped sausages.

“What do you mean he can’t lie?” Keigo snorts. “We all know how to lie.”

“You don’t get it,” Touya mutters, picking an egg roll with his chopsticks. “Shouto is different.”

Keigo rolls his eyes as he finishes his sandwich, crumpling the paper bag in his hands.

“Okay. But what do we need to do then? I don’t think I want to make out in front of your baby brother.”

Touya glares at him out of the corner of his eyes. Piercing deep blue. Sometimes, his gaze is as intense as Endeavor’s.

“Stupid. We are not kissing.”

A brief silence slips by while Touya eats and Keigo plays with the paper ball. Murmurs of students drift in from the distance and Keigo preens his feathers with an absent-minded gesture.

Touya’s words linger in his mind and the question just rolls off his tongue.

“So, hum, you don’t want to kiss me because I am me or because I’m a guy?”

He doesn’t dare to look at Touya, but he can hear him choking on his food. 

“W-what?”

Someday Keigo's boldness will come at him and kick his ass.

But not today.

Keigo inhales deeply and searches Touya with his eyes. The guy only looks at him with a puzzled expression, a grain of rice clinging to his cheek.

“Are you gay, Touya, or do you just want to piss off your homophobic dad?”

“I… huh… what?”

Keigo elaborates, “Well, huh, I deserve to know why you want to show up with a boyfriend at this event.”

Touya arches an eyebrow. “Isn’t like, too late to ask?”

Pulling his legs against his chest, Keigo wraps his arms around his knees. “Sorry, you said Endeavor and I kind of forget about everything else.”

Now he really doesn’t dare look Touya in the eye, let alone when he sighs in irritation.

He doesn’t need a mind-reading quirk to guess that father and son don’t get along.

“You’re so stupid…” Touya grumbles.

He falls silent again, and Keigo’s feathers puff up anxiously. He hates awkward silences.

“So… what is it?” he insists.

Touya takes his time closing his bento and wrapping it in his blue handkerchief. His fingers are long and slender, his movements slow and elegant. “Both,” he says, putting the bento aside. “Well, I actually don’t know if Endeavor is homophobic or not. But he would hate everything I do.”

There is not only anger but also pain in his voice. Keigo blinks, thrown off by the sudden vulnerability. Though he doesn’t get to feel bad for Touya before he’s overcome by his survival instincts. 

He had hardly escaped from his family. He doesn’t want to jump back into another drama.

“Mmm… I don’t know if I want Endeavor to hate me,” he says, sitting cross-legged.

“He won’t hate you,” Touya argues. “It’s me, the one he hates. He will love you, definitely.”

When Keigo looks up at him, the guy is playing with a feather that detached from his wings and twirls it around his fingers.

Keigo feels the cool touch of Touya and swallows. He doesn’t dare to tell him his feathers are very sensitive and looks away. “Why are you so sure about that?”

“Are you kidding me?" Touya snorts. "You have an awesome quirk, you’re class president and the top of the hero course. You did your internships with great heroes and you’re handsome. He always wanted me to be everything you are now.”

Keigo doesn’t miss the ‘handsome’ part. He gets the rest. He can imagine Endeavor’s parenting style by the things Touya had said. But he doubts he wanted his son to be ‘handsome.’

Well, you never know.

Keigo brings a hand to the back of his neck. “Huh… heh… thanks?”

He steals a glance at Touya. A slight pink flushes his cheeks.

“I wasn’t complimenting you.”

“Huh, heh, right.” He drums his fingers against his knees. “So, about your baby brother…”

“Yes, Shouto. He has to think we are dating…”

Keigo @ Fake BF: for the record… i like boys and girls c:

Touya @ Birdbrain: lol who asked u

Touya @ Birdbrain: i knew tho

Touya @ Birdbrain: u like endeavor

Keigo @ Fake BF: not like THAT

Touya @ Birdbrain: wtv u say

Keigo @ Fake BF: todoroki I’ll —🗡️🗡️🗡️

They are not in the hero course, but they still have PE in their curriculum, for Touya’s bad luck. And Tenko’s. Which of the two has the worse stamina is a weekly challenge. How Endeavor pretended Touya to be a hero with such a weak body is also a mystery. In the Todoroki gene lottery, Natsuo had been the lucky one. Though not lucky enough to become Endeavor’s successor if he inherited his mother’s ice quirk. 

Tenko has also been unlucky in the lottery of genes. With a quirk as destructive as ‘decay’, everything damages his skin, including sweat. 

“You shouldn’t do PE, I already told you so.” Touya insists as they walk upstairs to their classroom after changing clothes. 

Tenko scratches his eyes at his side. “Whatever.”

Touya doesn’t use his quirk much, but he knows what it feels like when your body is against you. Watching Tenko struggling with his quirk is like seeing a mirror of himself. 

When they reach the landing, Touya steps in front of him and snatches his forearm. “I said stop scratching, fuck!”

Tenko glares at him, his eyes red, the skin around swollen and parched. 

Keigo chooses that moment to go up the stairs, chatting lively with his rabbit friend.

“And then Yuu said…” 

The laughs die when the two friends reach the landing and notice Touya clutching Tenko’s arm.

It looks like they are arguing.

Touya lets go of him, but it’s already too late. 

It doesn’t help that Tenko’s eyes are swollen and bloodshot. 

The rabbit girl frowns and grabs Keigo by the arm, leading him up through the rest of the stairs. 

Keigo looks over his shoulder, his amber eyes wide and confused.

They exchange no words.

A weird feeling curls up in Touya’s abdomen. He doesn’t owe Keigo a thing. But it doesn’t feel right for him to pretend that they don’t know each other. 

It’s the first time they have casually met face to face at school after Touya’s weird petition and they never agreed on how they would act if they did. 

He thought it would all be over before they had a chance to bump into each other in the hallways.

He thought wrong.

Tenko lets out a deflated sigh. 

“Well, I think I just made your fake boyfriend jealous.”

(no new messages)

After classes, Keigo heads to the workshop of the Support Course. He had asked for a pointer to help him aim his feathers, and it was supposed to be ready today.

The pointer is the last thing he has in mind, though.

But he tries to shove his thoughts to the back of his head. Keigo is an expert at pretending nothing can get to him, because this really doesn’t get to him.

But Touya could at least have told him he also wanted to make this guy jealous. 

Anyway, what he had learned in the past days is that Touya is not the best at communicating.

Neither is Keigo. Who is he trying to fool?

He should’ve asked many things when Touya first approached him, but he didn’t. He just went with the flow and said ‘yes, sure’ if that meant meeting Endeavor. 

Lately, all he does is go with the flow. Humoring the Commission, humoring Touya…

At least meeting Endeavor is something he wants to do for himself. Because, back then, Endeavor was the only stable thing he had while everything else was falling apart—his family, his home, mom, and dad.

If he thinks about Endeavor, he forgets about everything else.

Not an easy thing to do when he walks into the workshop and finds two of Endeavor’s children.

Fuyumi and Touya turn to him. She’s leaning over her worktable while Touya straddles a chair at her side. Their eyes and hair color are different, but they look very much alike.

Fuyumi’s expression is warmer, though.

“Hi, Takami-san. Did you come for your item?” She gets up from her chair and cleans her hands in the jumpsuit. “I’ll go get it. It’s in the room next door.”

Touya looks up at him, arms folded on the back of his chair, chin tucked in the crook of his elbow. 

He looks like a cat... bored and judgmental.

His blazer is draped over the chair and his shirt is rolled up, brown and purples patches of burnt skin pepper his arms. 

Keigo clears his throat and scouts a neutral smile. “Didn’t expect to find you here, Todoroki-san.”

“That’s fine.” He clicks his tongue. “I rarely have any business here. I just came to annoy my sister.”

Keigo hums in acknowledgement and paces around the room, studying all the items, tools, and devices the support course designs and assembles.

He stares at a half-finished suit of armor for far too long, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, all to avoid looking at Touya.

He knows he will start babbling and jabbering to fill the silence if he looks into his blue eyes and, right now, Keigo doesn’t feel like talking.

“Are we good?”

Touya thinks differently, though.

Keigo looks over his shoulder, just to find him in the same position, sprawled in the chair.

“Huh, heh, yes?” he laughs. “Why wouldn’t we?”

Amber eyes glance nervously at the door. Fuyumi could walk in at any moment.

“She knows,” Touya says, blue eyes fixed on him. “Tenko also knows. This is only to piss off Endeavor. I don’t want to make a scene at school.”

Keigo blinks and looks away. He doesn’t want to make a scene, either. That’s why he hasn’t said a word. Besides, no one has seen them talking before. It’d be weird if they started going out all of a sudden. People would say Keigo does it just to get closer to Endeavor and, well, that’s kinda the truth. But still.

Why does he feel so uneasy if Touya came up with the idea?

Touya also wants something from Keigo.

Same old story as always—everyone always wants something from Keigo.

He has the right to take too.

(no new messages)

Touya drops a bracelet on Tenko’s desk the next day at school.

“Fuyumi said this could help you neutralize your quirk,” he says, sitting on the desk next to him.

Tenko looks up from his book and studies the item. “I’ve tried quirk strainers before, but they haven’t worked on me so far.”

“This is different,” Touya says, leaning back on the heel of his hands. “Fuyumi did this.”

Arching an eyebrow, it takes a moment before Tenko puts the bracelet on his wrist. “So there’s someone in the Todoroki family that can actually use their brain.”

“You know what? Gimme that back.”

They have barely any muscle, but they still wrestle to see who can keep the bracelet. 

They are in the middle of that when a voice echoes through the half-empty classroom.

“Todoroki!”

Both perk up their heads (Tenko’s stuck in a wrestling hold) to find the rabbit girl from the hero course under the door frame.

Tenko gives a start and breaks free from Touya’s hold, smoothing out the wrinkles in his uniform. 

Shooting him a wary look, Touya doesn’t notice when the rabbit girl walks to them, the hands at her sides opening and closing anxiously, her ears laid back.

“I, huh, I know about your deal with Keigo, and… while it’s none of my business… if you make Keigo sad, I’ll kick your ass.” She looks at Tenko and adds: “and yours too.”

By this time, Tenko would’ve snapped back a snarky comment, but he can only press his mouth into a tight line.

If Touya’s eyes don’t deceive him, a pinkish shade sits on his cheeks.

Huh. Tenko looks like a lot of things, but certainly not like a guy who is attracted to girls who can kick his ass.

He would have a field day later, teasing him.

Rumi is far from amused, though. “You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Touya says in a bored tone. “I’ll bring him back in one piece and with an Endeavor autograph under his wing.”

Rumi's nostrils flare. “You better do.”

She walks out of the classroom in long strides, and Toya sighs, plopping down on his chair.

This is giving him more problems than he would’ve expected, and he can’t wait for this farce to end.

Good thing the Hero Billboard Chart is this weekend. 

He eyes at Tenko, who stares at the door after Rumi left.

“You’re gawking, idiot.”

Touya @ Birdbrain: i’ll pick you up at the train station at 5pm. is that okay?

Keigo @ Fake BF: sure :)

Chapter Text

Keigo feels like a stupid, but he has done far more stupid things in his life, and none of them has resulted in meeting Endeavor, so he supposes that this is worth it, right?

(right?)

Standing outside the subway station, it feels awkward to wear something other than joggers and a loose T-shirt. For tonight, he has pulled on black pants with a white shirt and a formal grey suit waistcoat on top. Simple and elegant. But now, he can’t help thinking it was too simple.

At least he has a tie.

“Hey, Takami,” Touya’s voice says above the murmurs of people and the rail squeaks.

His wings flap restlessly. Touya walks to him with a slim, gray suit. The jacket is unbuttoned and his shirt untucked. No tie, the collar is also unbuttoned. 

Okay. So maybe Keigo overdid it with the tie.

When Touya reaches his side, blue eyes sweep him from head to toe, but he doesn’t say a thing. His face is unreadable. If Keigo knew him better, he would say Touya is nervous. His hair is tousled as if he had run his hand through his scalp many times, and his lips are chapped from nipping on them.

Keigo wishes he could say something, but he feels as restless as Touya looks.

“Looking good,” Touya says. “Let’s go.”

From what Keigo has gathered, Touya is the mysterious, distant kind of guy who doesn’t talk much. But on the way to the venue, he doesn’t stop blabbering.

“So, hum, there’s many of us,” he starts, rubbing his knuckles against his forehead. “You already know Fuyumi, she’s a first-year in the Support Course at Yuuei. Then, there’s Natsuo, who’s thirteen, but the idiot is way taller than me and definitely taller than you. My youngest brother is Shouto, he’s nine, and Endeavor’s little puppet as he inherited both my mom’s ice quirk and my dad’s fire quirk.” He rolls his eyes and shoves his hands in his pockets. “And yes, my parents got together in an arranged marriage because Endeavor wanted to create the perfect heir who could handle both heat and cold. My grandparents basically sold my mom to Endeavor, and she let them do it. I guess you do anything to survive,” he adds in a musing tone, as if he were talking to himself instead of Keigo, who doesn’t dare to say a word. What is he supposed to say? “When I was growing up they didn’t get along very well,” Touya continues after a brief lull. “But now they’re quite civil to each other, so you won’t see them arguing. At least not in front of everyone. With me, however…” he flicks his eyes at Keigo who looks at him with a stunned expression. “And about you,” he clears his throat. “Is there anything I should know about you?”

Keigo blinks, speechless, trying to process the information Touya just dumped on him. “I... hum... I don’t live with my parents?” he offers. 

Touya runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long sigh. “Lucky bastard.”

As they approach the event, more and more people gather outside the venue—curious bystanders, hero fans, press, and such

Keigo doesn’t think he’s lucky, but he won’t tell Touya.

“Touya, dear?” a woman’s voice calls behind their backs and they both straighten up, rigid and stiff. 

That’s when Touya takes his hand.

It happens so fast that Keigo barely notices, were it not for the obvious fact that a hand slipped into his own.

The entrance hall was packed with heroes—big ones, smaller ones, rookies, and veterans. Keigo didn’t know where to look first as Touya, at his side, hoarded on the appetizers passed out by the waitstaff.

Touya’s mother didn’t take long to find them.

Long white hair, falling like a waterfall, stands out against a navy blue dress. She’s holding hands with a boy with hair half-white and half-red, while Natsuo and Fuyumi stand behind, all three in formal attire.

Touya’s mother is so beautiful. Keigo can only gawk at her.

“Mother,” Touya greets her with a bow of his head.

Keigo feels his cheeks flaring as four pairs of eyes fall on their clasped hands.

Fuyumi and Natsuo are quick to look away, tackling a waiter and grabbing a handful of appetizers.

Touya’s mother wears a puzzled smile on her face. “Hum, did you bring a friend with you?”

Keigo stops breathing.

Wait.

So Touya’s parents didn’t know he was coming?

“Not a friend,” Touya mutters, squeezing Keigo’s fingers tighter. “This is Takami Keigo, my boyfriend.”

Touya’s mother blinks several times, and Keigo doesn’t want to know what face she will make next, so he bows profusely. “Nice to meet you, Todoroki-san!” he exclaims.

A brief silence transpires and Keigo can only stare at his shoes, sweating under his shirt.

“Huh, nice to meet you, Takami-kun,” she says with a small bow, offering a shy smile. “My apologies. I didn’t know Touya had a boyfriend.”

“Neither I did,” Shouto adds, clinging to his mother’s arm. His mismatched eyes so intense that Keigo feels he can see through their lie. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Natsuo interrupts, waving a hand in the air. “Since when does Touya-nii tell us anything?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Fuyumi nudges him.

“Huh, yes. I guess you’re right,” Touya’s mother observes and takes an appetizer.

Keigo exhales deeply, happy to see that the first awkward moment of the night is over.

Kind of.

He glares at Touya out of the corner of his eye. “I thought you told your parents I was coming,” he mutters.

Touya shrugs. “The surprise effect, you know, for more impact.”

He squeezes Touya’s hand as if he could break his fingers. 

“The ceremony will begin in ten minutes,” Touya’s mother announces after a moment. “Shall we go to our seats? Touya, dear, put on a tie.”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t bring one.”

Like an experienced mother of four, she opens her purse and pulls out a wine-colored tie. “But I did. So please put it on.”

“I don’t know how to tie it,” he frowns. 

Faced with Touya’s refusal, his mother turns to Keigo. “Takami-kun, would you help me convince this grumpy son of mine?”

And who is Keigo to deny something to Endeavor’s wife?

“Leave it to me, Todoroki-san.”

Touya’s blue eyes seem colder under the artificial light of the bathroom, or maybe it’s because he’s glaring at Keigo at a close distance. Probably that’s the reason.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles. 

Keigo arches an eyebrow as his fingers work the tie knot. “I’m trying to stop you from unnecessarily arguing with your family. How is that not being on your side?”

Touya has nothing to snap back, so he sulks in silence.

Keigo is almost ready, tightening the tie against the other’s neck, when Touya talks again: “Huh, you know, it will be confusing if you call both my mom and me ‘Todoroki’”

Amber eyes travel from the tie to Touya. At this distance, Keigo notices his eyelashes are curved and thick, and small freckles dot his cheeks—of course, he has red hair.

“So… what should I call you? Baby boy?”

Touya pushes Keigo’s hands away from him and faces the mirror, loosening the tie around his neck. “Idiot. Just call me Touya.”

“Only if you call me Keigo,” he says, leaning against the sink.

Touya’s glare could have broken the mirror. “Like hell.”

A long sigh escapes Keigo’s lips. He almost feels sorry that Todoroki Rei has to deal with Touya’s difficult ass on a daily basis.

“Listen. In case you haven’t realized, this is a two-way street. If it’s going to be embarrassing for me, it’s going to be embarrassing for the two of us.”

If Touya is feeling overheated, it’s not because of his quirk or because the ceremony is packed with people, but because Keigo colluded with his mother and he’s being forced to wear a fucking tie. 

He grunts under his breath. 

Of course, Keigo wouldn’t miss the opportunity to leave a good impression on Endeavor’s wife. He knows how to tie a tie and Touya doesn’t. So what? 

It’s been thirty minutes since the ceremony started and Touya has zoned out during most of it. He couldn’t care less about this shit, but his mom insists they all go as a family to support his father’s career, and as much as he hates Endeavor, he doesn’t want to make his mother sad. So, okay, he came, but on his own terms and annoying Endeavor as much as he can in the process.

However, Keigo is having the time of his life—listening attentively to all the speeches, applauding all the heroes who step onto the stage, gazing devotedly at Endeavor like he was a saint or something. Touya could have thrown up. 

But when his eyes stray to his wings, flapping, flaring, buzzing in excitement, a little smile tugs on his lips. Keigo could be cute at times, and he definitely will remember this moment for future blackmail.

When the ceremony is over, they return to the entrance hall and wait for Endeavor, who is hounded by the press in the backstage. Natsuo and Fuyumi talk about their dinner place they’ll head next, while Keigo and Shouto chat animatedly about their favorite heroes.

(More like Keigo talking and Shouto nodding enthusiastically.)

Touya and Shouto are cut out of the same cloth and neither knows how to hold a proper conversation. Anyway, he’s glad Keigo found a chat partner in Shouto instead of him, because Touya can’t remember a thing about the ceremony for his life.

“Keigo?” A woman’s voice reaches them over the murmur of the crowd and Keigo flinches, feathers standing on end. “Keigo! Is that you!?”

A middle-aged woman makes her way through the crowd stationed in the hallway, two men in suits following close behind. Blonde, short hair flattened against her skull, she glares at Keigo, who returns a sheepish smile. 

“Good evening, President,” he greets with a little bow.

Touya blinks, looking at them back and forth. President of what?

By the way her brow furrows, she doesn’t seem too happy to find Keigo there. 

“How did you get here? I don’t remember sending you an invitation for the Hero Billboard Chart,” she says as she folds her arms across her chest. Touya scowls. Her patronizing tone gives him a terrible vibe. “You can’t sneak uninvited into such important events, no matter if you’re employed by the Commission. We’ve been through this before.”

Keigo, usually a confident and nonchalant guy, had now turned into a diminished and vulnerable version of himself. Even his wings looked smaller, deflated.  

(Employed by what? Does Keigo have a job?).

Fiddling with his fingers, he doesn’t find the right words to say, so Touya speaks for him. He grabs Keigo’s hand and grips it tightly—a gesture that doesn’t go unseen by the woman.

“I invited him,” Touya says.

He doesn’t look Keigo in the face, but his fingers are squeezing him back, and Touya doesn’t know if that’s a warning or a call for help.

The woman folds her arms and studies Touya from head to toe. “And you are…?”

“Rei, there you are,” Endeavor’s voice surges over the conversation, his mountain figure towering among the few people remaining in the hall. Keigo winces and goes rigid, unable to turn over his shoulder to meet his idol. “Let’s get out of here.”

The woman’s scrutinizing eyes jump from Touya to Endeavor and it doesn’t take her long to connect the dots—red hair, blue eyes, same haughty attitude.

She gives Endeavor a brief nod, and he nods back, barely sparing her a look.

Normally, Touya hates being Endeavor’s son, but sometimes it pays off.

“We… we’ll talk about this later, Keigo,” she adds in a lower, threatening voice.

And Touya hates how Keigo is acting like such a chicken, nodding and mumbling a ‘yes, sure’, so he slides an arm around his waist and pulls him closer.

His feathers ruffle and panic.

“Yes, later,” Touya mutters. “Now we have stuff to do. So, if you excuse us.”

Touya takes Keigo’s arm and drags him through the hall, following his father’s lead, who rushed out of the venue as soon as the press gave him a minute to breathe. Walking with long strides, the rest have to jog to catch up with him, so Touya barely has time to see what face Keigo is making.

Sliding his hand into the other’s, Touya gives him a reassuring squeeze. 

Keigo’s palm is damp and shakes slightly.

They get outside and wait on the sidewalk for their family driver to pick them up. That’s when Endeavor looks over his shoulder and his blue eyes land on Keigo. “And who is this?”

Keigo doesn’t say a peep, but Touya knows he’s screaming internally. 

Tugging him closer, Touya smiles smugly when he says, “My boyfriend.”

There’s one thing he forgot to tell Keigo about himself: he likes chaos.

On the car ride, they both sit in the last row, Shouto in the middle. They don’t talk, though, eyes glued to the screen, their fingers typing frantically.

Touya @ Birdbrain: lol who was that

Keigo @ Fake BF: no one. it’s okay

Touya @ Birdbrain: it didn’t look like no one

Keigo @ Fake BF: it’s hard to explain

Touya @ Birdbrain: takami wtf 

Touya @ Birdbrain: you get to meet my entire family and i don’t get to know shit about u?

Keigo @ Birdbrain: i’ll tell you later

Endeavor had rented a dining room in a traditional Japanese restaurant, and the seven of them were now sitting at the low table on the tatami floor.

While Endeavor was at the head, Rei, Fuyumi, and Natsuo sat on one side of the table. Across from them sat Touya, Keigo, and Shouto. All eyes were on Keigo, though, who sat on his thighs, his hands gripping his knees, his wings tucked on his back, as if he could make himself smaller that way.

Endeavor glares at Touya and Keigo back and forth. Jaw clenched, a vein in his neck pops out.

“You… you didn’t say you would bring someone tonight,” he mutters.

Touya sits cross-legged and drums his fingers on the table. “Oh? Must have slipped my mind.”

The air is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Endeavor scowls. “You neither mentioned you liked, huh, guys.”

Touya cracks a smirk and lightly pats Keigo’s thigh. “Well, now you know.” 

Natsuo stifles a laugh and Fuyumi elbows him in the ribs. Keigo, on his part, looks like he wants to disappear, while Shouto stares at them with big, expectant eyes.

Rei intercedes to calm the waters. “Enji, dear. Maybe we can talk about this later.”

“Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it here in front of everyone,” Touya says, his hand still resting on Keigo’s warm thigh. 

Keigo might want to kill him, but well, he was the one who signed up for this.

It’s clear that Endeavor wants to continue arguing, but he’s interrupted when the waitstaff opens the sliding door and serves the first course of dishes.

Touya starts picking at his food and forgets about the rest, but his mother still wants to build a bridge of communication, have a civil dinner.

“So, Takami-kun,” she clears her throat. “Why don’t you tell us a bit about yourself?”

Keigo jumps in his seat. “Huh, heh, yes! My name is Takami Keigo and I’m in my third year at Yuuei, enrolled in the hero course.” Endeavor eyes snap at him at the mention of Yuuei. “My quirk is called Fierce Wings. I can detach each feather from my wings and use them at will, either as tools or weapons.” He pulls out one of his secondaries and twirls it in his fingers. Shouto’s eyes sparkle as Natsuo and Fuyumi hum in admiration.

“Takami Keigo…” Endeavor tries the name himself and Touya can feel how Keigo’s wings fluff up with violence. “Why does it sound familiar?”

“Birdbrain has won the Sports Festival three years in a row,” Touya announces.

Keigo chuckles nervously and brings a hand to the back of his neck.

Endeavor arches an eyebrow. “So you have been offered internships with important heroes, then.”

“Huh, eh, yes, sir!” Keigo chirps. “Last year I did my internship with Best Jeanist, the Number Five Hero, and he recommended me to Edgeshot’s agency, who is currently the Number Eight.”

Endeavor leaves his chopsticks aside and folds his arms. “My agency is currently not accepting interns, but if we did, we would’ve called you, for sure,” he says as he stares at a fixed point in his empty dish.

Keigo is ecstatic.

“Thank you, sir,” he bows and almost crashes his forehead against the table. “Your words mean a lot to me.”

Touya rolls his eyes and looks away. 

When the second course of dishes arrives, Rei changes the subject drastically.

“So, how did you both meet?”

Keigo and Touya choke on their drinks.

Natsuo wiggles his eyebrows from across the table. “C’mon, Touya-nii. We all want to know the details.”

Touya makes a mental note to kill Natsuo later.

He’s supposed to be helping.

Only then, Touya realizes they didn’t plan a backstory. 

Shit. 

How stupid they can be? They didn’t agree on a common ground to tell the others how they got together. It was the first thing they should have done and yet—

Keigo throws him a panicked look out of the corner of his eyes, but there’s no need to panic. Touya has everything under control.

“Uh, well, you see, Ta–... Keigo had a crush on me for several months,” he explains, moving his hand to pat Keigo’s back. If Keigo is glaring blades at him now, Touya pretends he doesn’t notice. What he does notice is the way Endeavor stiffens at the sight of his son showing PDA, so Touya keeps his hand between Keigo’s shoulder blades, stroking the space between his wings. Then it’s Keigo the one who stiffens. “And, huh, one day he came to me on the way out of school and he asked me if I wanted to go out with him.” Well, it was actually the other way around, except that Touya didn’t ask him out. No. Not at all. “I thought he was pulling a prank on me because Keigo is also super popular at school. C’mon, look at him. So I rejected him.” 

Keigo doesn’t say a thing, but moves a hand to Touya’s thigh and squeezes it, burying his nails in the muscle. It hurts, but the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by Endeavor who scowls harder.

Touya is certainly enjoying himself.

He continues: “But then, he insisted and we started to get to know each other more, and we realized that we had a lot of things in common like, huh, like…”

Crap.

What did they have in common?

“Like our undying admiration for Endeavor,” Keigo completes with an unapologetic smile.

Touya turns his neck so fast towards him he could have broken it. Natsuo drops his chopsticks, Fuyumi gasps, Shouto blinks, and his mother opens her eyes wide.

Endeavor stares at them, brow furrowed and jaw clenched, like an ancient computer trying to process complex information.

That wasn’t in the script. Well, none of what Touya had said was in the script. But that. That was crossing the line.

Touya wraps his hand around the protrude cartilage where Keigo’s wings are born and pulls hard as if that could convey a ‘shut up, stupid’.

It doesn’t.

“Touya likes to act tough and rebellious, but deep down he admires his father very much.” He looks at Touya with something that might come as endearing, but it is not. His talons keep squeezing him tightly under the table.

His mother brings a hand to her mouth and sobs quietly. Her eyes are glassy.

This fucker.

Touya adds Keigo to the list of people he will murder later. Shouto and Fuyumi are spared.

By now.

By dessert, Keigo had already won over Endeavor and Touya’s mother, and all his siblings for that matter. 

How could he not ?

Keigo is charisma personified—attentive, cordial, funny, gracious. It’s almost as if he knows how to put people in his pockets. Touya was right when he said Endeavor would love him, he spent the rest of the evening asking Keigo about his internships and his many achieves after getting his provisional hero license. Touya can only roll his eyes and pretend he doesn’t hear a thing while spooning vanilla pudding with Shouto.

He’s fed up with Keigo but still grabs his hand when they leave the restaurant just to annoy Endeavor. Keigo startles at the touch and looks at him with wide eyes, his wings fluffing up at his back. His cheeks are tainted pink, but that must be the freezing night. What does Touya know anyway. With a quirk like his, he never feels the cold. 

He’s relieved that this farce is over and that he annoyed and stole Endeavor’s spotlight as much as he could.

“If you go home, I can show you my All Might Collection,” Shouto mentions matter-of-factly.

“Maybe next time when Touya invites me over,” Keigo concedes.

“Huh?” Shouto blinks, perplexed. “You are not staying over?”

Touya snorts. Of course he’s not. They are gonna drop him in his apartment and the function will come to an end. At last.

Or not. Not on Rei’s watch. “You didn’t invite him over, Touya?” she asks, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Poor Takami-kun. He lives all alone and will come home to an empty apartment…”

He hates it when his mother tries to guilt-trip him. 

It always works.

Well. Whatever. His bedroom is big enough, and he has an extra futon.

Wrapping an arm around Keigo’s waist, he pulls him closer. “Of course he’s staying. Don’t you remember, Kei?”

“Huh, oh, yes. Yes,” he laughs and brings a hand to the back of his head. “It must have slipped my mind.”

“Birdbrain,” he mutters as the Todoroki’s driver pulls up the family car in front of them.

Touya regrets all the decisions that have led him to the moment they arrive home and his mother takes him to the living room. Just the two of them. Sitting across from each other at the low table.

Shouto is distracting Keigo by showing off his stupid All Might collection, and Touya can’t help but wonder if Shouto and his mother have plotted this.

“Touya, dear.” She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “This all came up very suddenly, but I still appreciate you trusting your family and introducing us to your boyfriend.” Touya arches an eyebrow in silence. Trusting his family wasn’t exactly what he wanted to convey, but, yeah, his mother can think whatever as long as it makes her happy. “Your father may need more time to process this information. You know how old-fashioned he is. But I don’t think he’s against it. Maybe… just a little shocked.”

“Mom.” Touya rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to justify every little thing he does...”

“I trust you too,” she cuts him off and Touya’s words die in his mouth. He didn’t see that coming. “You are seventeen, almost eighteen. But I’m still your mother and I care about you.”

Oh, oh.

He feels like he doesn’t want to see the end of this conversation.

“Mom… huh… this talk is absolutely unnecessary.”

“It’s very necessary, Touya,” she insists, drilling her icy eyes into him. “I was young too, but my parents were very strict and wouldn’t let me go out with boys. I knew nothing about intimacy before I married your father. It was a big mess.” Touya stares at his mother in horror—he really doesn’t want to hear how his parents conceived him, but she continues. “I’m glad it’s different for you than it was for me.” She smiles wistfully. “I’m glad you can explore and experiment—ask yourself what you like and what you don’t... but…” she holds up a finger and maybe Touya can still escape the room. “You need to take care of yourself. Both of you. And you know what I mean.”

Fuck.

That’s it.

It’s THE TALK.

And what’s worse: he can’t tell his mother to fuck off. Not when she’s being so open and vulnerable about it. It would be easier if it were Endeavor—a perfect excuse to yell at him and storm out of the room. But. It’s his mother. He doesn’t want to make her sad. Touya spent all his childhood being a difficult brat, and he has already made her cry for an entire lifetime.

Still.

He rubs his knuckles against his forehead in an anxious gesture.

“Mom, I really don’t need you to tell me all this. I… I know.”

“Well, I want to make sure you know because an adult told you and not because you read about it on the internet.” This is hell. “Look, all I want to say it’s that you need to use protection even if you and Takami-kun can’t get pregnant.”

Touya wants to scream.

“Mom, we—” he slams a hand against the table, but he’s unable to look his mother in the eye. Not when his face is scalding, bright red. “We haven’t even talked about it! And even if we have, we… we’re not doing it here, with you guys in the house!” 

His mother folds her arms across her chest, unimpressed. “Takami-kun lives alone, doesn’t he? Don’t think it has slipped my mind.”

“Mom, it’s not what you think. I promise…”

He can’t tell his mother they are not even dating. Not when he had fooled everyone and had dragged the guy home.

Everything is terrible.

Never, not even in his best dreams, Keigo would have thought he would meet Endeavor’s house.

But here he was. 

In awe.

It’s dark, but he still notices how everything is so green, clean, and spacious—three words Keigo would never have associated a house with as a child. Wooden corridors, sliding doors made of wood and rice paper, white clay walls. Keigo tries to memorize it all. He doesn’t think he’s going to be there ever again.

An awkward night sleeping in Touya’s room for getting to know Endeavor’s house? Seems like a fair price.

But as soon as they set foot in the house, Touya is taken away by his mother while Keigo is dragged away by Shouto.

Shouto’s room is probably bigger than Keigo’s apartment altogether and the boy is very enthusiastic about showing Keigo his entire collection of All Might merchandise and figurines. Endeavor may be resentful about Shouto idolizing his nemesis, but Keigo figures he doesn’t say a word and indulges his favorite son as long as he can still train him to make a hero out of him.

Touya has mentioned a thing or two. How he was once the favorite son himself. He didn’t use those same words, but Keigo can guess he was. And that he resents Endeavor for it.

Now that Keigo thinks about it, he has never seen Touya using his quirk.

Shouto tugs at his shirt, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Takami-kun, are you listening?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

That’s when Touya flings open the door to Shouto’s room. 

He looks flustered, and his cheeks are on fire as if he had run a marathon.

He doesn’t look Keigo in the eye.

“Okay, birdie,” he sighs. “Let’s go to bed.”

Now it’s the turn of Keigo to blush. “O-okay.”

They don’t talk as they unroll the futons in Touya’s room (which is also bigger than his entire apartment) (thank goodness there is an extra futon for him). The silence is tense and awkward, hovering over Touya’s room. A low table with four chairs, a bookshelf, a small television, a plant, and a wardrobe. There is nothing in the room that screams “Touya”. It could have been anyone’s room.

Maybe he doesn’t plan to stay for long, judging by the way he gets along with his parents.

(He doesn’t.)

Keigo thought Touya would be angry that he had picked on him during dinner. Although he deserved it. The idiot was the one who came up with this fake dating idea. What did he mean Keigo had a crush on him and asked him out? As if! 

But now he doesn’t look mad. Rather, he looks… troubled. 

Keigo arches an eyebrow. “Are you good?”

Touya winces and turns his back to him. “Yes,” he grunts.

Yes, my ass.

“What did your mom want?” Keigo insists as he crawls on the bed and lies on the duvet. He has no pajamas or a change of clothes for tomorrow. He’ll have to borrow clothes from his fake boyfriend, just like he would do if he had a real boyfriend.

A small packet falls on Keigo’s stomach. “Condoms,” Touya says. Standing next to Keigo, his tall figure casts a shadow over the guest. “She wanted to give me condoms.”

Keigo’s throat goes dry all of a sudden and his wings puff up, stiff and rigid.

She—

What?

He props up on his elbows just to find a strip of three condoms laying on his belly. He can see the circular silhouette of the rubbers protruding from the thin plastic. Tangible. Real.

Huh, well, things escalated quickly.

Touya glares at Keigo as if all this was his fault and not something he got himself into on his own.

Keigo doesn’t know whether to scream or laugh, so he offers a wobbly smile. “Hum, well, we are not using them, right?”

If Touya had a fire quirk, this would have been the time for him to explode. Yet he doesn’t. His face is as red as his hair, and Keigo is sure he hasn’t breathed at all for the past three minutes. Scowling, jaw clenched, he looks a lot like his father. But he would probably hate to hear that.

“Of course we are not using them,” he mutters, shying away from Keigo’s eyes. “What do you think I am?”

Keigo takes a bath first.

He showers thoroughly, feathers included, and then soaks in the large bathtub, feeling the weight of the day washing away. The room is also big (of course), almost like an onsen bath. Keigo doesn’t think the bathhouse near his apartment is this nice—he almost feels guilty for intruding in Endeavor’s bathtub, but considering how big this house is, they might have at least three bathrooms.

He tried to refuse taking a bath first, but Touya said that, fake or no fake boyfriend, he was still a visit and he would treat Keigo as such.

“Not that I’m thrilled to bathe after you,” he muttered, giving his back to Keigo. “but if my mom finds out I’m not being a proper host, she will drag me away to another talk and I don’t want to look her in the face for at least one month.”

Keigo wasn’t eager to face Touya’s mom either, but still. This wasn’t a detail he was expecting from Touya.

Keigo doesn’t know what to expect from him anymore. 

Todoroki Touya, student of the class 3-G of General Studies, is known as your usual cool, distant, detached guy that doesn’t give a damn about the world around him. He’s no part of any club, his grades are average, and his friends are scarce. He’s both too predictable and unpredictable. Certainly, Keigo didn’t predict Touya coming to his defence when the Commission tried to make his protégé remember his place—looming in the shadows, in his 20m² cage, unable to take flight.

Touya wrapped an arm around Keigo and told them to fuck off and that—

No one had done that for Keigo before.

Not even his mom, who handed Keigo over to the Commission as soon as she had the chance.

But probably he’s reading too much into it and Touya just wanted to stay in character, acting like a loving couple in front of his family. 

They sold the entire act if Touya’s mother took him apart to give them condoms.

Shit.

How was Keigo supposed to look her in the eye tomorrow?

He opens the door to Touya’s room with a smooth slide. Inside, Touya winces at the sound but doesn’t turn to look at Keigo. Well, it’s understandable. Having a stranger using your bath, borrowing your pajamas, and sleeping in your room must be awkward as hell.

Keigo doesn’t feel any better, being an intruder in a world he doesn’t belong to. It’s too domestic, too cozy, too something they are not. 

At least, the condoms are out of sight (thank god).

“Bathroom is free,” Keigo mumbles, rubbing a towel over his hair, still dripping with water.

Touya grabs a towel for himself and throws it over his shoulder. “Don’t touch anything while I’m not here,” he mutters as he strides out of his room.

Keigo’s wings fluff in interest under the borrowed shirt (and he might tear it open in the middle of the night. Hopefully Touya had lent him an old pajama).

Curiosity killed the cat. And also the bird.

At first glance, there wasn’t much of Touya in the room, so Keigo decides to explore around.

First, he opens the wardrobe and is not surprised to find everything in black. Still, he is overcome by a familiar scent, the scent of Touya. He slams the wardrobe shut. Okay, that was a bad idea. Next.

Next, he goes to the bookshelf. It’s stuffed with books Keigo doesn’t know about, sorted by colors. He runs a finger along the spine. Just because. 

Keigo doesn’t think he has read so many books in his life. 

Staring at the bookcase, Keigo tries to think about what he and Touya have in common and finds nothing.

If they were a real couple, they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. 

Good thing they’re not a real couple.

When Touya gets back to his room after the bath, he finds Keigo already tucked inside the futon, his back to the door.

Touya doesn’t see that Keigo isn’t sleeping, but still bids him goodnight as he slips into his own futon.

The room is dark and silent, but Keigo’s heart throbs so loudly that Touya might hear it from the futon next to him.

Keigo has never slept in such a good bed. 

He still sleeps like shit.

Chapter Text

The next morning, after breakfast, Touya walks his fake boyfriend to the nearest subway station. Keigo could have gone by himself, but Touya’s mother low-key made him go too and Touya was still acting like the quote-unquote doting boyfriend he was supposed to be, so he rolled his eyes and agreed.

It was his last act.

Keigo clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well, I guess that’s it,” he hums, in an attempt to break the awkward silence looming above their heads. Touya grunts in response.

It’s a Sunday morning and there are few people on the street. The autumn sun barely warms their faces, but it’s not cold enough yet.

“Huh, thanks for inviting me to the Hero Billboard Chart,” Keigo continues, looking for something to say. “I really had a great time.” He beams at Touya, but the other is not looking back. Black hoodie over his head, his eyes are fixed on his combat boots. “Did you get what you wanted?”

Touya snorts. “Hell, yeah. Seeing Endeavor pissed off adds ten years to my lifespan. Not that I want to live much, but…” he shrugs and Keigo is a bit thrown off by his sudden honesty. Unless it was a joke. But it didn’t feel like a joke. 

Lately, Touya lets such ‘jokes’ slip more often.

A blue eye peers at him from under the hoodie. “And what about you?”

Keigo pulls out a business card from his pocket and flashes an ear-to-ear grin. “Hell, yes!”

Once breakfast was over, Endeavor approached Keigo.

Endeavor, in casual clothes, at his home, with his family. Keigo might have died of hyperventilation, but somehow kept his composure and put on his business smile—not so weak, not so wide.

“If you still have any internships to do, we can make an exception for you,” Endeavor had said, briefly and curtly, but Keigo didn’t need anything else.

The same blue eyes pierce him now, in the orange morning light.

Something tugs at Touya’s lips, but it’s not a smile. Rather, it feels like a sad gesture. 

“Well, it was a pleasure doing business with you,” Touya says as they get to the subway station—a small park with an entrance underground. This is where they part ways.

“Likewise,” Keigo chuckles.

Standing in front of each other, Touya rubs his knuckles against his forehead. A gesture Keigo has noted he makes when he’s anxious.

“See you, Keigo,” Touya mumbles, without looking him in the eye. “I mean, Takami…”

Keigo chortles quietly before turning to the subway and waving a hand in the air. “See ya, Touya.”

He doesn’t correct himself.

List of Contacts

            @Fake bf

            Edit - Delete

    @Fake bf saved as @Ex fake bf

—

List of Contacts 

            @Birdbrain

            Edit - Delete

    @Birdbrain deleted successfully

It’s all fun and games until it isn’t anymore. 

“Keigo,” the voice of the Commission’s President comes to him loud and clear from the other side of the phone. His tiny department is plunged into silence except for the distant hum of the fridge. “Care to explain to me what you were doing yesterday at the Hero Billboard Chart?”

He plops down on his bed, and his wings protest under his weight. His stomach is a tight knot, but he tries to brush the uneasy feeling aside.

Well, what now? He had tried to come up with a convincing story that didn’t involve him and Touya dating—because one, they are not dating (they already broke up, in fact) and two, his handlers didn’t even know he also liked boys. 

But until the moment the President called, Keigo hadn’t been able to think of anything that would explain why they were holding hands. 

She saw that. She definitely saw that. 

A sigh escapes from his lips. Should he lie again? One lie piled on top of another lie until Keigo drowns under the weight of his inventions? 

“Hum, Todoroki Touya from Class 3-A invited me,” he says instead. The only truth in all this scheme. “He’s the eldest son of Endeavor, so, hum, he had extra tickets.”

“Todoroki Touya, huh?” Keigo doesn’t like the tone of her voice one bit. “And what is this… Todoroki Touya to you?” she asks. and well, fuck, there is no way she overlooks all this, isn’t it? 

Keigo’s life has always been so controlled, so restricted. It was a miracle the Commission changed their plans and let him go to school with other students his age. 

Certainly, ending up with a (fake)boyfriend wasn’t part of the Commission’s plan. They weren’t used to Keigo not sticking to the plan.

Maybe he was entering his rebellious phase.

“Hum, well, you see… he…” he clears his throat. “Me and Touya… huh, we might be dating.”

It’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay, I’ll tell them we broke up later.

No answer comes from the other side of the phone. The only thing Keigo hears is his heart pounding in his head.

He pulls the device away from his ear, fearing that the President has hung up, but the call is still on, the seconds ticking by, endless, ruthless.

“Keigo…” he hears her say and rushes to press the phone to his ear again. She exhales deeply through the line and, although Keigo can’t see her, he knows she’s pinching her brow, looking for the right words to say. “There’s… there’s a lot to unpack in that sentence alone. We’ll talk about it at our meeting next week, but…” she clears her throat. “You are not allowed to date anyone while you’re in school. You knew that, didn’t you?”

“Ehh… huh, you might have mentioned it at a meeting.” He laughs weakly as he scratches his cheek.

“Well, now you know.” She concludes. “You’d better end that relationship now, but make sure you stay friends with Todoroki. As a future hero working for the Commission, we don’t want you to be on bad terms with Endeavor.”

Well, good thing they had already broken up.

“Yes, ma’am,” Keigo mumbles against the phone, rolling on his stomach.

“That’s all, Keigo. Have a nice Sunday.”

The line goes dead and Keigo buries his head in the pillow.

Touya is beating Natsuo’s ass in Mario Kart when Endeavor slides the door to the living room open. His towering, square figure looks ridiculously big behind the door frame, yet he doesn’t look imposing, as usual. He rather looks… nervous.

“Touya,” he mutters, opening and closing his hands at his sides.

The screen paused, Touya stares back at him defiantly. “What?”

“I need to talk to you,” he says, peering at Natsuo out of the corner of his eyes. 

Natsuo jumps to his feet. “I love you, Touya-nii. But I’m not staying for this.”

And well, not that Touya is dying to have this talk either. 

He should’ve run from home. He should’ve run from home that very morning after dropping Keigo at the subway station—ruin Endeavor’s night and then disappear behind a smokescreen. Then, they would’ve been spared this conversation. Touya can swear on his life that Endeavor is not there of his own accord, but persuaded by his mother.

His mother, who had decided to make Touya’s life a nightmare, it seems. He still hasn’t finished processing last night’s conversation and now he has to deal with a second one.

“Touya.” Endeavor clears his throat and sits across from his son at the low table. Talk about having a deja vu from last night. 

The old man pulls his eyebrows together as if he’s trying to remember what he came here to say. It wouldn’t surprise Touya if his father had a cheat sheet with his speech under his sleeve—talking wasn’t his thing.

Neither was Touya’s.

“Touya, I… hum… I really don’t know what to tell you, but your mom thought I should talk to you.”

It’s hard to stifle a laugh. Touya’s been through so much shit with this family that he can read their dynamics like the back of his hand.

“Nothing to be surprised about,” he drawls. “You rarely have anything to say to me.”

Endeavor arches an eyebrow, his hand curling into fists on the table. “So, is this what it’s all about? Getting attention? Me having something to say to you?”

His words are like a blow to Touya’s stomach that knocks all the air out of his lungs, and, suddenly, he feels like a kid being trained to tears in his dad’s studio all over again.

Maybe he never stopped being one.

“I—no—that’s—uggg…” he rubs his clammy hands against his thighs. “What you think about me stopped being relevant a long time ago.”

His father exhales something between a sigh and a grunt, and relaxes his hands, drumming his fingers against the table. “Are you, well, are you gay or did you do all this just to piss me off?”

Touya’s nostrils flare. Somehow, it feels insulting that Endeavor thinks he made up he was gay just to piss him off, even if he made up he had a boyfriend just to piss him off. Anyway. One thing is very different from the other thing.

“I’m gay, Endeavor,” he says, staring dead at his father. “I like d—”

“Okay, okay. I got it. You don’t have to say it out loud.” He raises his palm toward Touya. “I just… I didn’t see that coming.”

Touya snorts, his shoulders shaking with a weak laugh. A mirthless laugh. “Of course you didn’t see it coming. You’re so obsessed with yourself that all you see in us is what reflects off of you. You only see my hair, or Shouto’s quirk, or Natsuo’s build. I bet you don’t even know what color Fuyumi’s glasses are.”

Endeavor blinks, puzzled. “Red?”

Rolling his eyes, Touya stands at his feet, eager to leave the room. “Black,” he mutters, blue locked on blue. “They’re goddam black.”

Teen Love: Endeavor’s eldest son spotted with his high school sweetheart at the Hero Billboard Chart

Some heroes go up, and some heroes go down. We see the same story twice a year. However, Todoroki Touya, Endeavor’s eldest son, blessed us all and spiced up the last version of the Hero Billboard Chart by showing up with a mysterious partner.

[IMAGE: A teenage couple holding hands, making their way through a blur of people. One of them has red hair, messily styled, and a gray suit. The other is blond and wears black pants with a formal gray suit waistcoat on top, but most impressive are his huge, red wings that almost sweep the floor.]

Caption: Todoroki Touya showing up with his boyfriend, Takami Keigo.

Little do we know about the family of Todoroki Enji, the man behind the name of Endeavor, who recently went up to second place on the chart (see full article).

Being in the spotlight from a very young age, he has always dealt with his family life with great secrecy. However, bless the god of gossip that Todoroki Touya thinks differently and invited his lovey-dovey boyfriend (yes, boyfriend!) to the dance.

After an exhaustive investigation made by The Gossip Hero, we pinpointed who exactly was Touya’s mysterious date. His name is Takami Keigo, a student in the hero course at Yuuei high school. If the name sounds familiar to you, it’s because this young man has won the Yuuei Sports Festival for the past three years. And not only that, he’s also the class president and the first in his class. 

[IMAGE: A blond teenager in the Yuuei high school uniform standing on the podium of the Sports Festival, accepting first place, biting a gold medal, and winking at the camera. His hair is slightly long, swept messily backward, and his wings are puffed up in excitement.]

Caption: Takami Keigo winning first place at this year’s Sport Festival.

But who is Todoroki Touya, the protagonist of this story? Besides being an exact copy of Endeavor (well, a lankier, rounder and softer copy), we don’t know much about him. An inside source at his school revealed that the eldest Todoroki is enrolled in General Studies and not in the Hero Course (!) of Yuuei High School, as would be expected from the eldest son of the Number Two Hero.

The same source also mentions that Touya’s time at Yuuei has been quite uneventful—he doesn’t take part in any clubs and doesn’t have many friends. What’s more, he hadn’t been seen in the company of Takami Keigo until last Saturday (!!). Though he is often seen in the company of his only known friend, Shimura Tenko, grandson of Shimura Nana. That’s right! The iconic heroine from a couple of years ago. 

Seems like the unknown Takami Keigo is rubbing shoulders with the right Nepo babies at Yuuei. Good for him!

Tenko @ Emo Clown: http://www.thegossiphero/article/teen-love-endeavor-eldest.html  

Tenko @ Emo Clown: explain how did i ended up involved in your shit?

Tenko @ Emo Clown: the heck is a nepo baby

Touya goes to school next Monday with a heavier backpack than usual—his mother’s fault. As if having four kids wasn’t enough for her already, now she might want to adopt Keigo too. He really hopes she doesn’t, but Keigo sold her his tragic parentless backstory and now Touya is living the consequences. Namely, bringing two lunch boxes to school.

“Poor thing, I bet he misses eating homemade bento,” she commented that morning as she wrapped the lunch box in an Endeavor patterned handkerchief.

Touya didn’t know they had Endeavor merchandise at home. Had he known he would have burned them all.

Well, it’s true. He’s seen Keigo eating curry buns from the cafeteria more times than he can count. But maybe that’s because there’s no end to the idiot’s stomach. Anyway, that’s not the reason he brings the second lunch box.

Touya simply can’t say no to his mother.

Walking to the hallway of the hero course classrooms is the worst. Touya avoids going there as much as he can, but now he’s looking for Keigo’s classroom with two bento boxes in his hands. Damn. It would’ve been better if he hadn’t deleted Keigo’s number. Then, he would have texted him to meet on the rooftop.

Now he has to pretend that he doesn’t care when everyone turns around to see him, whispers echoing through the corridors.

He usually doesn’t care what they say about him, but now it’s too obvious to be ignored. They must be talking about that stupid article, though there is nothing to talk about. Touya is not even on the hero course, that Nepo Baby shit was just clickbait, a way to attract readers. If anything, Keigo is the one benefiting from nepotism, getting a direct pass to an internship at the agency of his quote-unquote boyfriend’s father.

Touya slides the door of class 3-A open. It’s lunchtime, so there aren’t many people around. But Keigo and Rumi turn to him all the same from the back of the classroom. Keigo is sipping a juice box and Rumi is sitting, straddling a chair in front of him, resting her elbows on the back of her chair.

Their conversation vanishes into thin air as soon as Touya steps into the classroom.

“Hey, birdbrain,” he drawls. “Did you have lunch already?”

Touya doesn’t know if Keigo is more excited about the bento or about Endeavor’s handkerchief, but his wings won’t stop fluffing up and down.

“Wait.” He freezes all of a sudden, mouth stuffed with tonkatsu. “So you didn’t tell your mom we broke up?”

Both are sitting cross-legged side by side on the rooftop. The golden autumn light reflects on Keigo—his hair and his eyes are the color of yellow leaves.

And why is Touya thinking of Keigo’s hair color?

He looks back down at his food and snorts. “Huh, so you want to break the heart of the woman who made you that bento? What a villain.”

“Hey! W—!” Keigo nearly chokes. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I thought we were just going to fake it for the Hero Billboard Chart.”

“We would. I mean, we did.” He clears his throat. “I just… I thought I might wait a couple of weeks before telling her. She looked…” she looked genuinely happy for Touya, but he’s not gonna tell Keigo that. He might’ve met his family and visited his house—he even slept in his room, but somehow, talking about his mother's feeling felt way too personal.

Touya bumps their shoulders together and almost knocks Keigo over.

“I probably wouldn’t have to lie to her any longer if you hadn’t won her over with your orphan boy story.”

Keigo looks at him with wide eyes and stuffed cheeks.

And at this angle, at his light, at this moment, Touya realizes why Keigo is so popular. Even if he’s a messy eater, he looks kinda… cute.

Okay, he should stop that thought right there.

Keigo gulps loudly and looks away. “Yeah, hum, you probably shouldn’t wait too much until you tell her we broke up.”

Aaand… somehow, that came just when Keigo was growing on Touya.

If anything, Touya should be the one wanting to fake break up with him, not the other way around.

Why did he want to get rid of him so quickly?

Something heavy and thick settles in Touya’s stomach. He feels like an idiot for sharing a bento box with Keigo now. He should’ve kept both lunch boxes to himself, or given one to Tenko for all he cares. The guy is a picky eater, but Touya would’ve made him eat it all one way or another.

“What’s the hurry, though?” he huffs, picking on his food. “Did your fan club give you shit?”

“My what—? No!”

“So there’s someone you like and you want to go for them?”

Keigo slaps his hand against his forehead. “Ugh… no.”

“Then, what is it?”

Silence takes over and a cold breeze sweeps through them. The sky has clouded at some point and now Keigo’s hair doesn’t glow like gold anymore.

A lump nestles in Touya’s throat. There goes the feeling he thought he had forgotten—the little old feeling of being unwanted.

This is why he never gets too close to anyone.

Keigo almost, almost made him feel like he wasn’t that unbearable to be around.

“The thing is… I can’t date people,” Keigo murmurs, closing the bento box and wrapping it again in the Endeavor’s handkerchief.

Touya arches an eyebrow. “We are not dating, idiot.”

“I mean, not even fake-dating. It’s just… ugh.” He drags a hand down his face and sighs. “Do you remember that woman on the Hero Billboard Chart?”

“Huh, the President or something?”

“Yeah, I… huh. I shouldn’t be telling you this. Only Rumi knows."

Touya folds his arms over his chest and waits, because he’s a little shit.

Keigo rolls his eyes. “Well, fuck me. Just… don’t freak out, okay?”

The furrow on Touya’s forehead softens only slightly. “Wh—?”

“I… I’m in a special hero training program of the Commission, you know, the Hero Public Safety Commission? I have been there since I was six years old, so, hum, yeah, home-schooled, secluded, no friends. You can imagine the rest.”

Touya unfolds his arms slowly, his hands falling to his lap.

When was Keigo supposed to tell him all this?

It doesn’t take him long to remember the guy doesn’t owe him shit.

“At some point, my handlers thought it would be bad for my development or whatever, to be so isolated from other people my age, so they decided to send me to high school on the promise I would study hard and make friends, but… they said no dating.”

Touya huffs. “That’s bullshit, Takami. They can’t tell you what to do.”

Keigo turns to him, his eyes looking hopeless—helpless. “Well, they do. They are my handlers, after all. Yesterday the President called me and she wasn’t happy to find out about... us. Even if there’s no us!” he rushes to clarify. “But it looked like something back then when you held my hand and everything.” He looks away and tucks a lock of hair behind an ear. “She called me to tell me we should break up, and… and I think she’s right. We should stop this.”

Touya doesn’t know when he has started clutching the fabric of his pants, but his knuckles are white now. He neither knows why he’s so infuriated if none of this has anything to do with him.

Maybe it’s because Keigo reminds him of his own self when he was little and would do anything to please Endeavor, even if that meant neglecting himself.

“You mean,” he drums his fingers against his empty lunch box. “You mean that if this were real, you would break up with me just because some woman, or management board, what do I know, told you to do so?”

Keigo pulls his legs against his chest and runs his hand through his hair, his fingers getting caught in the knots. “But this is not real, isn’t it?”

Picking up both lunch boxes, Touya packs them together into a large handkerchief with rough, quick movements.

“Of course it ain’t real. Good boys make me sick to my stomach.”

Keigo gives a start and throws him a scandalized look, all his feathers bristled. “I’m… what?”

Getting into a squat position, Touya leans in slightly and Keigo pulls back, hitting his head against the rooftop’s fence.

“You’re such a good boy, doing everything that is expected of you, letting other people decide in your place, and you…” He shakes a feather off Keigo’s shoulders with the back of his hand. “You have no will of your own. Am I wrong?”

Keigo doesn’t react right away. His mouth is open, a faint protest probably died on his lips before he could voice it aloud. Deep down, he must know Touya is right.

The school bell rings in the distance, and that’s Touya’s cue to go. He doesn’t hang out with chickens who can’t stand up for themselves.

Walking to the rooftop door, he reaches out for the knob, when a stabbing noise stops him in his tracks.

There’s a red blade-shaped feather buried in the door, just beside his face.

“You… you don’t know a single thing about me.” He hears Keigo snarl. When he looks over his shoulder, he spots Keigo on his feet, hands curled in fists, wings spread out, big and menacing. “Or about life, for what’s worth. You think you can get away with anything just because you’re a rich pretty boy? Well, guess what? Not everyone was born on a silver platter or is god’s favorite.”

Touya looks him up and down. Even angry, he looks good: feathery hair, raptor eyes, a slight wrinkle between his furrowed eyebrows, the right proportions from head to toe.

Gripping the doorknob, Touya can’t help but wonder, if Keigo isn’t god’s favorite, then who the hell is.

“I’ll tell my mom you say hi,” he mutters before disappearing behind the door.

Man, if this is how fake breaking up feels like, Keigo doesn’t want to break up for real with anybody. Ever.

Maybe the Commission was doing the right thing when they forbid dates and partners. Maybe they were sparing him a broken heart.

(There were many broken things about him when they found him in his parents’ little hut. It has taken so much time, money, and resources to get him fixed. It was not worth the risk.)

Still, Keigo can’t help but feel a pang of envy at the sight of Touya—so nonchalant, so free, doing whatever the fuck he wanted and having no one’s shit. He was right, Keigo just let others decide for him. But what else was he supposed to do?

‘I guess you do anything to survive,’ Touya had said it himself, and maybe Keigo is doing the same, in a way.

Maybe he’s just surviving, too.

“...kami-kun! Takami!” Moe, the vice president of their class, snaps him out of his thoughts. “Takami-kun, are you listening?”

Keigo first takes in orange eyes and flaring green hair, before remembering where the hell he is.

The two of them have moved to the front of the classroom to preside over the homeroom. They were planning the upcoming Cultural Festival and deciding what they should prepare as a class for the rest of the school.

At some point, he had zoned out from the discussion, the heated exchange he just had with Touya flashing back and forth in his head.

He gives Moe a soft smile. “Yeah, sure. We were voting on what event we should host for the Festival, right? Let’s see the results.”

Glancing at the board, Keigo feels all the feathers pop out of his wings when he reads the most voted option.

‘Hawks’ kissing booth’ had won by far.

His throat felt as dry as a desert. “The… the what?” he babbles.

He had never heard of a kissing booth before, but that couldn’t bode any good. People have too much faith in him, a very baseless faith. He hasn’t even had his first kiss—how was he supposed to host a kissing booth?

“You said you were okay with that,” Moe notes with an arched eyebrow.

“Huh, and when was that?”

“… Five minutes ago, Takami.”

Five minutes ago, his head was wandering all over the place, his eyes lost on the other side of the window. They could have asked him if he thought All Might was a better hero than Endeavor and he would have said yes.

“Huh, sorry, I didn’t get that part.” He laughs weakly, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “But, eh… I don’t think I can do it.”

A choir of disappointment runs through the classroom.

“C’me, class president!” someone says. “It’s just a kiss on the cheek!”

“We want to raise funds for our Christmas party!”

“It’s our last Christmas Party before we graduate!”

Keigo raises his hands to shoulder height, a twitchy smile on his face. “I… I don’t even think a kissing booth is on the list of allowed activities.”

“At least it’s not on the list of banned activities!”

“We already checked!”

“No one else can do it but you, Takami!”

“The rest of us are just ugly bastards!”

“Hey! Speak for yourself!”

“No one wants to kiss your ugly ass, Tanaka!”

“You didn’t say the same thing yesterday!”

A loud thump interrupts the endless bickering. From the back of the classroom, Rumi has slammed her hands on the desk, getting to her feet.

She doesn’t look that imposing with her small stature, but at least her long bunny ears make her look taller. Though if not her height, at least the muscles bulging under her school blazer command respect, as well as her record of kicking ass that, for some reason, goes back to elementary school.

The entire class suddenly fell silent when she cuts in.

“Don’t be a bunch of jerks,” she mutters. “Keigo is clearly not comfortable with the idea. Besides… he’s dating someone.”

Keigo’s stomach falls to the floor.

Great. Now what.

A murmur of surprise ripples through the room, curious eyes travelling from Keigo to Rumi.

“C’mon, don’t act so surprised!” Rumi folds her arms across her chest. “You’ve been gossiping about it all morning! I can hear you all loud and clear!” Her ears wiggle over her head, stressing her point.

Keigo has no idea what Rumi has in mind, but maybe his friend has just tossed him a lifeline, a very poor, ragged lifeline, but it’s the only thing he has at hand.

One lie piled on top of another lie.

He can dwell on all this later.

“Yes, so.” He claps his hands together to get his classmates’ attention back on him. “As some of you may know, I’m seeing someone and… I wouldn’t feel comfortable kissing people just like that, even if it’s a kiss on the cheek. So, a kissing booth is out of the discussion now.”

Another chorus of disappointment floods the classroom, but they don’t push the idea any further.

Keigo resists the urge to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.

After crossing out the most voted idea on the board, Moe turns to the class again.

“So, the second most voted idea is…”

Keigo @ Ex fake bf: hey todoroki

Keigo @ Ex fake bf: do you have a sec after school?

Keigo @ Ex fake bf: I need to talk to you

Touya @ 03-xxxx-xxx: who dis

Keigo @ Ex fake bf: …

Keigo @ Ex fake bf: dont tell me you deleted my number

Chapter Text

Truth is, Keigo would’ve bitten Rumi’s head off if he didn’t know that saying he already had a boyfriend was the only way to save himself from a very enthusiastic troop of students that called themselves his fan club.

Keigo didn’t know much about the inner dynamics of Japanese high schools, but apparently, fan clubs of certain students were not an uncommon thing. What’s more, when Keigo brought the issue up during a meeting with the Commission, they said it was to be expected. Desirable, even.

“When you’re a pro-hero, you will have a larger audience than you do now. Popularity is a significant factor that boosts heroes up on the Hero Billboard Chart. You better get used to that.”

Keigo didn’t know what to make out of the sudden and constant attention, so he acted as usual: clueless and nonchalant. They rarely talked to him directly, which was a relief. But his oversensitive wings noticed whenever they followed him around the school grounds. Good thing Rumi had oversensitive ears too and always shooed away anyone who wanted to annoy Keigo.

Rumi wasn’t the biggest fan of the whole fake dating scheme Touya had proposed, but on the bright side, anything was better than having people lining up for Keigo’s kissing booth.

At least Touya didn’t want to kiss him.

“And here I thought I got rid of you.” Touya’s voice brings him back from his thoughts.

Classes are over for the day and Keigo is leaning against the lockers, waiting for Touya before the idiot sneaks home without a word.

By the sulking look on his face, that had been his plan. Plan now ruined.

The sunset light streams down the corridor, illuminating the back of Touya’s head like a red halo, like a forest fire. Many things about him resemble Endeavor. Maybe that’s why Keigo finds him attractive. Even when his features are softer, his shoulders are narrower, and his stance is less menacing.

But menacing still.

Keigo steps aside. “Well, you did say to your family that I asked you out by the lockers, so here I am, reproducing the scene.”

“I dumped your ass,” Touya grunts as he changes into his outside shoes. “Back at lunchtime, to be more precise.”

Keigo sighs with mock nostalgia. “I remember as if it was today. But now it’s me who needs your help,” he says gravely and Touya looks up at him from under his locks of red hair. Yes. Got his attention. “Give your fake ex-boyfriend a hand, would you?” Keigo offers a lighthearted smile that Touya doesn’t return. “For the good times?” he adds, almost desperately.

Touya hasn’t stopped scowling since he spotted Keigo from down the hall, but he actually looks like he’s thinking about it now. Keigo can almost see the cogs in his head turning as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks.

After a brief silence in which Keigo doesn’t breathe, Touya slams the locker door shut and grunts a barely audible, “Fine.”

Keigo gets two bottles of green tea from the vending machines and guides Touya for a chat on some benches next to the school’s outdoor court.

Touya neither stops scowling when Keigo explains why he changed his mind so fast about breaking up (more like fake breaking up), but his expression shifts a bit towards a judging, puzzled stare as Keigo elaborates on his argument.

(The idiot is no one to judge, though. His reasons for starting this fake dating thing were just as shallow—if not shallower.)

The shadows lengthen under the mid-afternoon sun as Keigo drums his fingers against the tea bottle.

“So… you told your classmates we were together to cover your ass?” Touya asks, taking the label off the bottle with an absent gesture. It doesn’t come off in one piece, with half the paper sticking to the plastic.

“Huh… yeah, pretty much,” he concedes, taking a sip of tea.

“… and then people won’t find out you’re a shitty kisser?”

Keigo chokes on his drink.

“W—? How would you know how I kiss?” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Anyway, weren’t you the one who said I shouldn’t let other people decide on my place?”

“Oh?” Touya looks at him out of the corner of his eye, his stare scrutinizing, calculating. “You learn fast, birdie. They trained you well.”

He’s mocking him, sinking his knife deliberately into the places where Keigo, god knows why, told him they hurt the most. There was a reason only Rumi knew about his connection to the Commission. People like Touya might want to use this information against him, try to hurt him, and get inside his head, but maybe Keigo had it coming. He didn’t exactly say very nice things back on the rooftop.

Touya sighs and leans back, throwing one arm over the back of the bench, boldly close to Keigo. “Then, what is your class doing for the Cultural Festival instead of your lame kissing booth?”

“It wouldn’t have been lame!” Keigo pouts. “I just… I didn’t want to do it, okay?” he adds in a low voice. “And well, the program is still not decided. We couldn’t come to an agreement.”

Fiddling with the bottle, he also pulls off the label. This time, it comes out in one piece.

“Oh, I can imagine that homeroom. A class crowded with air-headed heroes and big fat egos. No, thank you. Hell would be nicer.”

Keigo nudges him and Touya bends over in pain. “Ah, so?” Keigo retorts. “Then, what is your class doing?”

Touya rubs his side with a small grimace before nudging Keigo back.

Keigo doesn’t even flinch.

“Bastard,” Touya grunts. “Yeah, well, anyway. We’re putting on a lil’ yakisoba stand.” Palm up, his fingers slightly curved, a little blue flame emerges in his hand. “And I am the fire,” he adds in a cocky tone.

Keigo gulps as he stares at the fire.

The flames are blue.

The sudden spark warms up the cooling night as the fire dances, sizzles, and cracks in Touya’s cupped hand—small and vulnerable, but threatening all the same.

When Keigo looks up into Touya’s eyes, he observes the flickering light of the flames whirling in his blue irises.

He gulps again.

“I… huh… I think I’d never seen your quick before.”

The flame dies as quickly as it had burst. The warmth soon vanishes just as the day fades away, purple lights waving goodbye on the horizon.

“I don’t use it much,” Touya says, looking the other way. “I’m not particularly fond of it.”

“It’s pretty.” Keigo cuts him off and Touya’s neck snaps towards him so fast he could have broken it.

“What?” he exhales, looking as if Keigo has just dumped a bucket of water on him.

“Blue looks good on you,” Keigo says, because that’s how he is—honest, forward, and a little unsettling sometimes.

Maybe he overdid it this time, though. Now that the fire had migrated to Touya’s cheeks.

“Whatever,” Touya grumbles, getting to his feet. “I’ll play along with your shit, but if anyone asks. I’ll tell them you are a terrible kisser. Or at least you did before you knew me.”

A light chuckle escapes Keigo’s lips as he also leaves the bench behind. “As if anyone would believe any of th—”

“Takami-kun! Is that you?” a voice emerges from the darkness. Night had already fallen, but the school’s streetlamps illuminate the courtyards. “Oh my god, is that Todoroki-kun too?”

He can feel Touya stiffen next to him, so Keigo steps forward to deal with whatever comes next. He’s the one who asked to go along with his charade. The least he can do is deal with their nosy classmates.

“Yes! It’s them!” another voice joins in.

A group of Keigo’s classmates, Rumi and Moe among them, step out from the darkness, carrying bulky backpacks and thick books.

“Rumi! Kamiji-san! Everyone!” Keigo greets, shoving his hands into his pockets in a casual gesture. “What are you doing at school so late?”

“Studying at the library,” Rumi says.

“More importantly, what are you both doing at school so late?” Moe asks back, her pointy fang peeking through her smirk.  

Before Keigo can come up with a witty comeback, a pair of girls rush at Touya, who is promptly shielded by one of Keigo’s wings.  

“Todoroki-kun! Don’t be so like this!” one of them says. “Let Takami do the kissing booth!”

“That’s right, Todoroki-san!” another agrees. “It’s just a kiss on the cheek! It doesn’t mean anything!”

“It’s just one day! You have Keigo the rest of the time for you.”

“Girls,” Rumi steps forward, a note of irritation in her voice. “I think this is something Keigo and Todoroki have to decide for themselves.”

A whine runs through the group and Keigo has to find a way to defuse the situation smoothly before they start to give him a hard time, but of course, Touya says fuck it, I don’t do smooth and wraps an arm around Keigo’s neck, pulling him closer.

All of Keigo’s feathers puff up at the touch and all of his classmates fall silent.

Something tells him he’s not going to like what Touya has in mind.

His back is against Touya’s chest, and his wings are trapped in the middle. It looks more like a wrestling lock than a hug, like Touya is holding him hostage, but to the rest, it can pass as a loving gesture.

“Sorry if I don’t want y’all to whore out my boyfriend,” he snarls, pulling Keigo even closer. “But I don’t share him.”

Keigo doesn’t hear a thing after that. His heart is throbbing in his ears.

Touya’s fire is not the only warm thing about him. So is his body, and the arm curling around Keigo’s neck, and the hand falling limp over his shoulder. He’s so close that Keigo can recognize the scent of his clothes—the same scent he felt when he went through Touya’s wardrobe, the same scent that washed over him when he put on the lent pajamas.

Laundry powder, fresh sweat, verbena, and something smoky.

“So, if you excuse us…” Touya continues as he drags Keigo away.

They don’t walk away far enough before the girls start squeaking.

Good thing they bought it.

(How could they not buy it? Even Keigo felt like it was a little too much, a little too real?)

Touya doesn’t let go of him until they are out of sight, turning around a building.

They keep on walking along the side of the path, but Keigo is so dazed, he no longer knows where they are heading. He neither can see the look on Touya’s face. In that corner of the school grounds, the street lamps are not so strong anymore.

“Huh, eh… thanks for the save?” Keigo says, bringing a hand to the back of his head, his tone edgy. “Next time don’t call me a whore in front of my classmates, though?”

Touya sniffs and bumps their shoulders together. “So I guess degradation kink is off the table?”

“Huh?” Keigo blinks. “What is that?”

When he looks over his shoulder at Touya, his blue eyes sparkle like gemstones in the dark.

“I ain’t telling you. Google it up.”

Walking a little further, Keigo realizes they’re heading towards the school entrance.

“Next time,” Touya breaks the brief silence that had settled between them. “I like roasted green tea better.”

Keigo arches an offended eyebrow. 

So much for (fake) dating a bossy rich kid.

“Good thing you don’t like roasted chicken.” Keigo shrugs, bringing both his arms to the back of his neck, resting his head against his crossed fingers.

Walking under a streetlamp, a white strand peeks under Touya’s red hair—like Fuyumi’s, but the other way around. 

Keigo has never noticed it before.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Touya hums.

 

Rumi @ Kei Birb : dude

Rumi @ Kei Birb : what was that

Keigo @ Lola Bunny : what was what

Rumi @ Kei Birb : 😒

Rumi @ Kei Birb : what was that with todoroki??? what is he up to?

Keigo @ Lola Bunny : man i wish i knew

Keigo @ Lola Bunny : wait no

Keigo @ Lola Bunny : i don’t want to know

Keigo @ ex fake bf : i just looked up what degradation kink meant

Keigo @ ex fake bf : now i hate you

Touya @ my abhorred : my pleasure

As the son of a famous pro hero, Touya is used to being in the spotlight, to people talking about him behind his back, and to curious eyes lingering on his hair or the name tag on his bag for longer than necessary. He’s used to it, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.

Sometimes he wishes he could dye his hair black and disappear without a trace, resurfacing on the other side of Japan with a new name, and a different life. But he’s stuck here, living his ordinary high school life, navigating the rumors that travel the halls and reach his sister’s ears.

Fuyumi spends way too much time at school working on her assignments for the support course to ignore what people say about Keigo and him.

“So, you’re still a thing?” Fuyumi asks, tightening a screw in a bionic arm.

Touya is having lunch with her sister for a change, though she’s not eating yet, too engrossed in her assignment.

Munching on his food, he meditates for a second.

‘A thing’ is a concept vague and general enough to describe what they are, since they are not even friends. Yet naming it feels weird, too real, too tangible.

Guess he has no other option.

“Yeah, kinda.” He shrugs, picking the vegetables in his bento one by one. “You might call it a thing.”

Fuyumi throws him an unimpressed look. “Why don’t you just ask him out, then?”

A carrot gets stuck in Touya’s throat. “And why would I do that?”

“You like him, don’t you?” she reasons, pushing her glasses to the end of her nose bridge. Touya’s warning glare doesn’t make her flinch one bit. “I mean, why don’t you just tell him how you feel instead of doing… whatever thing you’re doing?”

If Keigo is anything, it’s tolerable. And barely. Were it any other way, Touya would’ve dissolved their pact as soon as the Hero Billboard Chart was over. But he kind of felt sorry for the guy. Keigo was clumsy and naïve—exploitable. If the Commission could mold him into a hero of their choice according to their own plans, then Keigo’s classmates could use him to raise money for their stupid Christmas party. And Keigo wouldn’t say no. Never a flat-out no. 

All hit too close to home and Touya didn’t want to see himself reflected in Keigo.

Suddenly, he’s not hungry anymore

He closes his lunch box with a frown. “Like hell I like him.”

His sister sighs, long and deflated, before going back to her schoolwork. “Well, good luck delivering mom’s bentos to your fake boyfriend then.”

He thought Fuyumi was just teasing him.

Big is his surprise when, a few days later, his mom wraps an extra bento box for Touya to take to school.

“You’re spoiling him rotten,” he mutters under his breath, tucking both boxes inside his bag with little enthusiasm.

His mom blinks, guiltlessly. “I remember Takami-kun saying chicken was his favorite food, so I cooked extra Tonkatsu for him.”

Zipping his bag close, Touya throws it over his shoulder and glares at his mom. “Just… don’t make this a regular thing, okay?”

On his way to school, he texts Keigo. 

Touya @ my abhorred : don’t buy any crap at the cafeteria

Touya @ my abhorred : my mom made you lunch

Touya @ my abhorred : and apparently i’m her carrier pigeon now

By noon, Keigo still hadn’t replied back.

Touya @ my abhorred : say something or I’ll give your lunch to Tenko.

Touya @ my abhorred : he said he wasn’t some trash can which i doubt

Touya @ my abhorred : anw. he’s not having it.

Touya @ my abhorred : …what? cat got your tongue?

It was a lousy analogy. They were texting, not talking—or at least, Touya was texting while Keigo kept silent. 

Touya doubted the commission took his phone away from him, but who knows—those guys sounded disturbing enough.

Probably it was something stupid like Keigo forgetting to charge his phone or leaving it at home when he left for school. It wouldn’t surprise him. 

Whatever it was, Touya won’t bring the second lunch untouched back home just to see his mom’s disappointed face and his appetite wasn’t so big as to eat double at lunch. 

At this point, he doesn’t know if he hates Keigo or his mother more.

When it’s lunchtime, Touya drags his feet to the hero course hall and slides the door to the 3-1 classroom open. Many eyes turn to him, but none of them are amber, raptor-shaped.

Two pointy rabbit ears peek out among the group and maybe the Usagi girl knows where the hell Keigo is.

“He might’ve caught a cold,” Rumi says a few minutes later, leaning against the hallway wall, folding her arms over her chest. “We had rescue training a couple of days ago and we fell into a tank of water.”

“And what about his wings?” Touya arches an eyebrow.

“He didn’t have many feathers left after using most of them to save people or remove debris.” She sighs. “That was the main criticism from the teachers… wait.” She glares at him, accusingly. “Why am I telling this to you?”

“Well, that’s usually how it works,” he sneers. “One person asks, the other answers.”

She frowns. “I mean… Do you care?”

The scornful smile wipes off his face as quickly as if Rumi had slapped him

“Of course I don’t. None bit. It’s just… huh… my mom made him a bento.”

Rumi stares at him. “Your mom…” she repeats.

“Yes, my mom.”

“... made Keigo a bento.”

Touya gives her a flat stare. “Yes, a bento, and I’m not hungry, and Tenko doesn’t want it either.” He lifts the tote bag he’s carrying. “Do you want it?”

Red eyes travel from the tote bag to Touya back and forth before a small smile tugs at Rumi’s lips.

“Didn’t you just say it was Keigo’s?”

Throwing the lunch box into the garbage is also a valid option, right?

He pinches his furrow. “I thought you didn’t like me for Keigo.”

“I said I’ll kick your ass if you make him sad,” she points out, raising one finger. “And I still stand by it.”

“How do you know I won’t make him sad?” he retorts because he likes a good challenge, and for additional drama. He likes drama.

Rumi looks unimpressed, though. “There’s no way a homemade bento can make him sad.”

When Rumi later asks Touya if he has anything to do that evening, he knows things can’t bode well.

Clearly, they don’t if Touya is standing outside Keigo’s apartment, one hand clutching the mobile phone with Keigo’s address, the other hand grabbing the bento box. 

His fingers fiddle with the bento handkerchief. He still hasn’t rung the bell.

He’s still in time to run away and feed a street dog.

But that’s when the door bursts open, revealing a Keigo in sweatpants, hair messy and wild, face pale and dark circles under his eyes. His nose looks pink and runny, and he holds a garbage bag in one hand.

Of all places, he should be tucked in his bed, instead of taking out the garbage.

Of all places, Touya would rather be anywhere else in the world except here, but he isn’t, and Keigo looks at him from head to toe with bleary, unfocused eyes.

He takes a moment to process that a visit just showed up at his door.

That his fake boyfriend just stopped by his apartment.

Touya hasn’t processed it yet either. 

“To-Todoroki…?” he mumbles. “What are you doing here?”

Touya snatches the garbage bag from Keigo. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Hey! No, it’s okay!” Keigo waves his hands in the air. “I can do it!” but he’s stopped when Touya shoves the bento box in his face. 

“Just shut up and eat,” he says.

The apartment building where Keigo lives is small, barely two stories, an open-air hallway. All apartments look like single-room units and, from what Touya had glimpsed over Keigo’s shoulder, there wasn’t much to see inside. Scarce furniture, bare walls, a futon spread on the tatami floor. It looked… lonely.

Touya knows it’s not uncommon. He knows there are quite a few high schoolers who live alone while studying. He hadn’t met any until now, though. Not that he knows a lot of people. But still. Living in such a small place, no little siblings running around the wooden hallways, no adults chasing him around the house to scold him.

Don’t get him wrong, that would be heaven on earth for Touya, but you don’t have Keigo’s best friend to realize he’s a social guy. 

That he’s not meant to be locked up in a cage.

Bet he and Natsuo would be best buds. Ugh. He makes a mental note to keep them apart.

After Touya brings the trash outside, he looks over his shoulder just to find Keigo on the second floor, leaning against the building’s railing.

He’s still there, outside his apartment, when Touya climbs up the stairs again. The door is ajar, and he scratches one eye with his knuckles.

“What?” Touya snarls.

“Nothing, huh, just making sure you’re real—ouch!”

Before he could finish his sentence, Touya had already punched him in the shoulder. “Is that real enough for you?”

He only has the advantage because Keigo is sick. His wings barely react to Touya’s little smack, falling flat and lifeless on his back.

“Jeez!” He rubs his shoulder. “I can tell you’re the older brother.”

And Touya can tell Keigo has no parents.

He doesn’t dare to ask where they are, or why the Commission took him in when he was six.

Somehow he feels he won’t like the answer.

“Why… why are you here?” Keigo asks instead, fiddling with the sleeves of his oversized sweatshirt and well, that’s something Touya would like to know too.

“Your friend… the Usagi girl, suggested I could drop by and bring you the bento my mom made for you… against my will,” he emphasizes, making sure Keigo knows this is all against his will. “But it didn’t feel like a suggestion at all.”

Keigo blinks. “Wait, you talked with Rumi?”

“Yeah, and she’s scary.” Touya mimics a shiver running down his spine.

A little chirp leaves Keigo’s throat as he chuckles quietly.

And fuck him, Touya shouldn’t be here, standing outside his fake boyfriend's apartment after delivering him food, thinking the idiot looks cute.

He really should’ve fed that imaginary street dog.

But that’s when Keigo’s face darkens, one of his feathers twitching and buzzing like a TV antenna picking up a strange signal.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, more to himself than to Touya.

But Touya listens and… he what—?

“I don’t think that would be necessary,” he says, taking a step back.

“No, you don’t understand. Come.”

And, of course, Touya isn’t going to understand anything if Keigo doesn’t explain shit, choosing to grab him by the wrist and pull him into the apartment instead. 

It’s all a blur of red feathers and adrenaline as Touya quickly takes off his shoes in the genkan and Keigo locks him in the closet at the back of the room.

It’s all dark and cramped and Touya has seen enough horror movies to suspect where this is going.

But, oh, the irony of Keigo putting him back in the closet…

He only catches on to what is happening when the apartment bell rings and Keigo opens the door again, greeting in a customer service voice: “Oh, what a surprise. Good evening, Mrs. President.”

Touya stays very still inside the closet.

So this is what it was all about.

Keigo could’ve said something, though, instead of letting Touya believe that his fake boyfriend was a psycho.

“Good evening, Keigo. I received word that you were sick and came to check on you.”

Footsteps sound, their voices reaching his ears closer, Keigo offers her tea and a seat at the room’s low table and shit. The old hag is planning to stay for a while, it seems.

This had been hands down Touya’s worst idea ever. Even worse than the time he’d made Natsuo believe he was adopted and triggered his quirk, causing snow to fall inside their house for weeks.

After some minutes of small talk and an update on Keigo’s health status, the President addressed the issue that had likely brought her there.

“Unfortunately, you were unable to attend our weekly meeting, but I wanted to know how the breakup issue went.” 

Touya sharpens his ears. 

If he were more like a douchebag, he’d fling open the closet door at that precise moment, materializing himself in the room. The look of horror on the President’s face would be priceless and the fucker deserved it. But that would only create problems for Keigo, and maybe, maybe Touya has a soft spot for the idiot.

He would never admit it out loud, though.

Keigo clears his throat. “Huh, yeah. It went.... well. I mean. After talking for a few days, we both decided to break up by mutual agreement. It’s the last year of high school for both of us. I’m busy with my final exams and internships, and Touya is busy with his college entrance exams. We didn’t have time to see each other anyway, so… I managed it smoothly, as you asked.”

It’s hard to hold back a laugh, but Touya doesn’t want to ruin Keigo’s well-thought-out, probably long-planned, argument.

(What was that about handling it smoothly in any case?)

“I see,” the President hums. “Good thing that you both realized that you shouldn’t busy yourselves with adult stuff. You’ll have time to date after you get out of school.”

Touya doubts the Commission will give Keigo a break after he graduates. He already pictures the guy as the workaholic, career-oriented, overachieving scumbag his father also is.

Well, no wonder why Keigo is a big fan of Endeavor.

The visit doesn’t last much longer after that. Thank goodness, because his legs are going numb and he’s going claustrophobic. 

After they bid farewell and the door to the apartment closes again, he hears Keigo letting out a long, tired sigh, and god, fucking finally.

Touya tries to open the closet from the inside but it’s locked. Huh. So Keigo really did not trust Touya staying hidden during the entire President’s visit.

No offense taken. He was right not to trust him.

But now it would be great if Keigo lets him out. He needs fresh air.

“Let me out, fuck!” He slams with his open palms on the inner side of the closet, feeling slightly humiliated by the whole situation. 

He’s supposed to be the one pulling pranks on others. Not the other way around.

“You look like a haunted closet,” Keigo laughs from the outside.

“I will definitely haunt your ass to the end of the world if you don’t immediately take me ou—”

With their push and pull, as soon as Keigo unlocks the door, Touya loses his balance and falls face forward. Keigo, sick with a cold and therefore not quite mentally awake, can’t prevent the two from collapsing on the floor. Although his wings do help a little to cushion the fall.

They are a jumble of arms, legs, and feathers (and Touya wouldn’t be surprised if he had swallowed a couple of them), but when he presses his hands against the floor to prop himself up, his nose brushes against Keigo’s.

And huh. Oh.

This is awkward.

He has a fire quirk, but freezes at the sight of Keigo’s amber eyes so close to his own. So close that Touya can even count each of those thick, curved eyelashes. So close that he notices the golden fuzz on his round cheeks. So close that he can feel Keigo holding his breath as much as he is.

His lips are flesh-pink, slightly parted in surprise or in a word that died half-sentence. His golden hair is sprawled on the floor like a halo, and his hands lie loosely at the sides of his head.

Keigo is objectively an angel, as cringe as that sounds. Good thing the idiot doesn’t have a mind-reading quirk.

Okay, so Touya should pull away now because this is not what he came here to do.

(What did he come here to do in the first place?)

He bends one leg to peel himself off Keigo, resting his knee on the floor, yet he doesn’t notice when his thigh bumps into the opposite crotch.

An involuntary moan escapes Keigo’s throat and immediately after his hands fly to his face, slapping his own mouth shut. Amber eyes stare at Touya in horror and mortification, and, well, that makes two of them.

It’s just a physical reaction, Toua tells himself. Just like his body reacts to the little sound Keigo made. That doesn’t mean anything. 

Though it might mean something if he doesn’t stop this now.

If they don’t stop this now.

But his thigh is still pressed against Keigo and the idiot hasn’t backed off either. 

It’s as if the two of them are looking at the mess they made without trying to fix it.

How can they fix this if Touya’s brain is not even working properly?

Slowly pulling away, he thinks of the first thing that comes to his mind with the power to throw him off. Like Endeavor reaching the number one position, yes, something like that.

“I’d rather postpone the kissing practice session for another time,” he says, hating that his voice comes out so low and throaty.

Keigo glares at him as he pulls his hands away from his face and puts them against Touya’s chest, pushing him away.

“There won’t be any kissing practice session if you keep assaulting me like this,” he mutters.

Touya rolls off Keigo and lies on the floor beside him, staring at the empty, blank ceiling. His heart throbs with violence under his ribs.

“Talking about assault,” he snorts. “You were the one who dragged me into your apartment and locked me in your closet.”

Keigo kicks his leg.

“Don’t make it sound terrible because that is not how it happened.”

Touya kicks him back.

“That was exactly how it happened.”

Some more bickering, some more kicks going back and forth, it’s late when Touya finally goes home.

(Not before telling Keigo to eat the bento and bring the lunch box back to school someday.

“You can keep the handkerchief, though,” he had said. “I might die if I have Endeavor merch on me.”)

Natsuo is playing video games alone in the living room and barely glances over his shoulder when Touya walks in. If he’s trying to disguise the look of betrayal on his face, he’s doing a lousy job.

“Where were you?” he grumbles, ignoring how Touya sits next to him and picks up the second joystick.

“At Keigo’s,” he says with a shrug, as if it’s a regular thing.

Which is not.

Natsuo stops the game at looks at his brother with a judging eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you were a thing now.”

Touya rolls his eyes. What’s next, that Shouto demands some explanations from him as well?

If his parents had so many children, it was to make life hard for Touya and Touya alone.

He resumes the game and doesn’t look at Natsuo when he says:

“It’s… it’s complicated.”

Chapter Text

Keigo doesn’t know what he likes less: the idea of a kissing booth to his name or the cross-dressed Coffee Shop they end up running. Maybe the entire idea of a School Festival is to create as embarrassing memories as possible. 

If that’s the case, he’s doing a great job.

“Keigo! Less slacking, more cakes!”

It wouldn’t be as bad if everyone wore equally ridiculous costumes. But Rumi looks so good in her butler uniform, tie and white gloves included. The garment highlights her curves and her white hair shines against the dark fabric of the suit. 

Maybe suits were never made for men, but for women.

Keigo, on the other hand, feels so awkward wearing a maid dress. The top is a long-sleeved, black shirt buttoned up to his neck, while the bottom is a long skirt that reaches his ankles. A white apron covers his front, tied at his back with an elegant knot. And if that isn’t enough, he’s also wearing a headband with lots of laces and ruffles. 

His only relief is that he’s not the only one—all the boys in his class are dressed the same. Some happier than others.

He doesn’t remember who suggested the cross-dressed Coffee Shop, saying that swapping the costumes would attract more people, but they proved themselves right. For good and for bad. For good, because they are making a lot of money indeed (Keigo alone couldn’t have brought that many people. Let alone kiss). For bad, because they are swamped with clients, with not enough space, cakes, or seats to accommodate them all.

He hasn’t taken a break since morning, so he’s hiding, crouched behind the counter. 

Rumi found him nevertheless.

“C’mon, we can take a break in thirty minutes,” she says, hovering over the counter and grabbing Keigo by the arm. “You’ll have plenty of time to meet your boyfriend then.”

Keigo jumps to his feet, frowning, face flushed. “ Not my boyfriend,” he hisses, because, well, he’s supposed to have one. Only Rumi knows it’s all fake.

She quirks an eyebrow, hand still firmly gripped around his arm. “Yea, and since he’s not your boyfriend, you’ve been glued to the window all day looking at him.”

Keigo turns as red as his wings. 

From the classroom window, you can see the schoolyard, where several food or game stands are arranged side by side. Coincidentally, the yakisoba stand of Touya’s class is right below their window. Keigo has seen him all day, dressed like the rest of his classmates, in a white shirt and a black headscarf. Touya has just stood there with a bored expression, hand under the cooking plate, keeping the fire going.

Keigo doesn’t monitor him because he wants to. He’s just making sure the fucker is still there and doesn’t drop by the Coffee Shop at the 3-A classroom unannounced.

Touya would have a field day if he saw Keigo dressed as a maid.

“And what’s so embarrassing about your costume, anyway?” she asks, dropping one of her ears as she tilts her head to the side. “It’s not that you’re showing skin or anything.”

Maybe in a different situation, Keigo wouldn’t have minded playing along with the Coffee Shop roleplay. He’s always been a laid-back, chilled guy after all. In a different situation, he would have even teased Touya a little, to see how flustered he could make him.

But now things have changed.

Why have they changed?

“What are you two doing?” asks one of their classmates, Moe, walking over to them with a tray full of empty cups and plates. Like Rumi, she’s wearing a butler’s outfit, her flame-green hair blazing against the black suit. “We have a very long line outside and we are not enough people! Come! Hurry, hurry!”

Touya fiddles with his phone in his free hand and types the first thing that comes to mind.

Touya @ my abhorred: you never told me what your class planned in the end.

His thumb hovers over the send button, but he soon changes his mind and deletes the message, his thumb pressed against the phone keyboard.

Touya @ my abhorred: been stuck here all day. haven’t had time to lurk around. what did u guys do for the festival?

This one looks worse than the latter. Touya is not the type to write long messages, he’s not the type to text at all, let alone to text first.

What the heck is he doing?

He stabs his thumb against the screen several times until the second message is gone.

Touya @ my abhorred: are u taking a break soon?

He would pull his hair with both hands if he didn’t have a palm glued to the cooking plate.

Maybe throwing his phone into the flames would end all his problems.

“I think that’s all for today,” says one of his classmates, wiping her hands on her apron. “We cooked and sold everything we had. Good job, guys!”

Touya rolls his eyes. Finally. Now he can take a break and hang around the school festival, or, why not, go home. He doesn’t even know why he came to school today. He hates school activities and crowds of people, but who knows, maybe Keigo needed help with the fake boyfriend scheme. Which doesn’t seem to be the case. The stupid hasn’t sent him a message all day, and it’s already one pm. 

“Take,” Tenko says, shoving two plastic boxes into Touya’s chest. As part of the assembly committee, Tenko was there early in the morning to set up the booth, and now he has to dismantle it with the rest. That’s not the reason he wears dark circles under his eyes, but it might be. “I saved some yakisoba for you and your boyfriend.”

Touya chokes with his own spit. “ Not my boyfriend,” he grunts in a low voice, snatching the boxes from Tenko’s hand. “But what about you? Did you eat already?”

Tenko runs his hand through his black locks of hair. “I did. I grabbed some while you worked. Now all I want is a coffee or a nap. Both work for me.”

Their classmates are quick to join the conversation even when no one is talking to them.

“Oh, I heard the class 3-A is hosting a Coffee Shop,” says one.

Tenko and Touya share a glance out of the corner of their eyes.

“It’s a Maid Café, or something like that,” another classmate adds.

Blood rushes to Tenko’s face in the blink of an eye. He’s probably picturing his crush, Keigo’s friend, in a maid dress. Touya doesn’t need an additional quirk to read his mind.

“Yea, but they swapped costumes,” someone laughs. “I’ve seen some male students from 3-A in maid dresses, while the girls are wearing butler suits.”

Touya is teasing Tenko, poking an elbow into his ribs when the new information enters his brain. 

His body freezes suddenly.

They.

What?

Five minutes later they are elbowing their way up to classroom 3-A, both curious to see what this supposedly cross-dressed Coffee Shop is all about. Tenko keeps saying he’s tired and just wants a coffee, but Touya knows the guy is weird, and if the idea of the bunny hero dressed as a maid made him flustered, then the bunny hero dressed as a butler drove him feral.

Touya, on the other hand, just wants to point and laugh at Keigo. Maybe also take a couple of pictures for future blackmail. He still carries the two little plastic boxes with him, mainly because he doesn’t know where to leave them. It’s not like he wants to have lunch with the idiot.

But when they get to the second floor, they spot a huge queue coming out of room 3-A and a green-haired girl hosting the entrance. She’s wearing a black butler suit that contrasts with her white gloves and shit . They did swap their costumes.

They try to peek through the door frame, but she shoves them away, pressing the menu against their faces.

“Stop you two!” she says. “Please, line up like everyone else!”

Touya pulls away and rubs his nose. “I am looking for Keigo. Is he on a break?”

The girl blinks as if she’s looking at him for the first time. Then her face lights up. “Oh! You must be Takami’s boyfriend!”

Now it’s Tenko’s turn to poke an elbow into his ribs. The bastard.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Touya grits out.

“Takami and Rumi just went out for a break together,” she informs them, placing a finger on her chin. “They must still be around here somewhere.”

Tenko sighs and moves to the end of the queue. Touya follows right after. 

“I always said I just wanted coffee,” Tenko mentions with a shrug, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

Touya squints at him. As if. “Well, I will look for this idiot,” he grumbles, staring down at the lunch boxes in his hand. “I can’t eat this all by myself and I don’t want to throw it away either.”

Tenko arches an eyebrow. “You better find yourself a new excuse.”

Touya grunts. It’s not his fault that he always ends up feeding Keigo. People are always giving him more food than he can handle. First, his mom. Now Tenko. They’re all conspiring against him. 

(But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of bringing Keigo some noodles, saying his flames had cooked the yakisoba.

How stupid.)

Keigo is nowhere to be found, though. He’s not in the hallway, nor in the surrounding classrooms.

Touya doesn’t have time to play hide-and-seek, so he turns on his ankles and walks the way back to Tenko. That is until he spots some red feathers near a closed door.

He stops.

It’s not a classroom, Touya can tell. It’s probably just a storage room he had never seen before. Yuuei is too big, and it’s impossible to know all the secrets and hiding places in the facility. But this looks like a good place to hide.

It also looks like there’s someone inside.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

He opens the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. It is, indeed, a storage room. Shelves stacked with papers take up all the walls and a small window at the end lets in the light. Which is not much. The place is mostly dark. But Touya prefers it this way. This way, it’s easier to scare Keigo.

But it’s Keigo who scares him first.

A sudden force slams him against one shelf, and even in the dark confusion, it doesn’t take Touya long to realize that a pair of Keigo’s feathers have pinched him by the shoulders of his shirt, pinning him down.

“Jeez, take it easy, birdie!” he says, but soon after a feather presses against his lips and—

What the hell.

“Shut up, idiot.” Keigo hushes him in a whisper, peeking out from behind a shelf. “I’m hiding from Rumi.”

Touya can’t see much under the dim light of the storage room, but he notices Keigo is wearing a maid’s headband.

He chuckles, still muffled by the feather over his mouth, and cups a small blue flame in one hand to light up the place.

Keigo rushes to him and grabs him by the wrist, a disapproving look on his face. “Are you out of your mind!?” he shouts-whisper. “This room is filled with papers and inflammable stuff. Want to kill us both, huh?”

The flame disappears, but Touya has already caught a glimpse of the dress, the apron, the lace, and the frills.

For a moment, he thought the outfit would be a parody of the classic maid dress, with a short skirt and lots of petticoats, showing a lot of skin, but it’s not. It’s rather sober. Keigo even looks… good. 

The sneer tightens on his face. What did he just think?

Keigo lets out an angry huff and swipes the feather away from Touya’s mouth. “Okay. What do you want? Did you come to laugh at me? C’mon. Laugh.”

Touya runs his tongue over his lips. Keigo follows the movement but quickly fixes his eyes on Touya again.

“I’m disappointed, but not surprised that you think so poorly of me,” Touya laments with mock pity, holding out his other hand to show the two little boxes with yakisoba he’s been carrying for a while now. Keigo’s eyes widen and the wrinkle between his brows disappears. “I brought you some noodles from my classroom’s stand and here you were thinking I just wanted to make fun of you. Tsk.”

Keigo sighs and leans back against the opposite shelf, pulling off his headband and running a hand over his head. “I can’t go out now,” he says. “Rumi is looking for me to take some pictures of us with the school newspaper, and I don’t want to.”

From outside, the sound of footsteps and indistinct voices reaches their ears, but Keigo is quicker than Touya to pick them up. All the feathers on his back bristle as he hisses: “Shit, that’s her.”

Then, Touya hears a distant, “he must be around here. I can hear him.”

“Shit, shit, shit. She knows I’m here,” Keigo repeats in a choked whisper. “We have to distract her.”

Touya isn’t sure when the feathers that held him against the shelf flew back to Keigo’s wings, nor when the idiot started tugging at his shirt, but the situation feels so absurd and weird that it’s the last thing on his mind right now.

“Why don’t you just tell her you don’t want to take pictures?”

“You don’t get it, huh? That won’t work. We’ve got to shoo her away.”

Touya grimaces. “ We? ”

Then, Keigo taps the base of his closed hand against his open palm as if he has come up with a great idea. “I got it. Kiss me .”

Touya’s stomach drops to his feet and his lungs squeeze. All of a sudden, the air in the storage room feels stifling, and oppressive, and the floor at his feet turns wobbly, like jelly. 

He must have misheard that part, right? There is no way…

“Kiss me,” Keigo repeats and well, there’s no room for doubts now.

Just… what?  

Keigo looks so serious, piercing his golden eyes on Touya, who opens and closes his mouth as if he were a fish splashing out of the water. 

The footsteps outside get closer and closer, but Touya still has time to raise his palms at shoulder height and say, “Let’s chill for a moment, okay? How is that going to help? Your friend knows we are not actually dating.”

“She’ll leave,” Keigo insists, taking a step forward. “You don’t have to actually kiss me. We can act it out, one of us with the back to the door, what do I know.”

Touya looks down at Keigo’s lips—thin and delicate. His mouth has always looked too small in Touya's eyes. Too kissable, too. Only in the darkness of his room, turning and tossing in bed during long sleepless nights, could Touya admit he wanted to kiss Keigo. Mere curiosity, fickle interest.

“He’s here. Give me a moment to drag his ass out.”

Touya now clearly hears Rumi’s voice from outside and Keigo looks so desperate that what the hell.

He sets the lunch boxes aside and flips Keigo over, pressing his wings against the shelf, which bristle in protest. “All right, birdie. So here’s the thing,” he says, gripping the shelf with one hand, the other wrapping around Keigo’s waist. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to sell the whole show to your friend, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for Keigo to answer before pressing their lips together in the darkness. But he does feel him stiffening up, slightly pushing Touya away with his palms against his chest, and this doesn’t look convincing at all. The kiss is too dry, too tense, too strained, and damn, Keigo is actually terrible at kissing. Touya was just teasing him when he said that. He didn’t expect it to be true.

But then the door opens and Keigo immediately squeezes himself against Touya, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and angling his face to the side. He parts his lips open, in a clumsy attempt to incorporate tongue into their kiss, and Touya may not be an expert, but he’s sure Keigo doesn’t have to open his mouth wide enough to swallow him.

Cupping his hands on Keigo’s cheeks, Touya tries to keep his enthusiasm under control. “Leave it to me, okay?” he whispers against Keigo’s mouth, to which he nods. 

His fingers run through locks of blond hair and Keigo’s body relaxes little by little. Touya parts his lips and Keigo mirrors him, shuddering a little as teeth nibble on his lower lip. 

“Oh, shit.” Touya gets to hear before the door closes again. “I got it wrong. Keigo is not here anymore.”

The kiss doesn’t stop after Rumi is gone. Maybe Keigo wants to make sure he got the message across in case she wants to peek into the room again. So Touya continues, wrapping his lips around Keigo’s plush, wet mouth. They have made some progress from their initial situation. The kiss is no longer dry and tense, but smooth and effortless. Keigo no longer clutches Touya by the collar of his shirt, either. Instead, his arms go around his neck, bringing him close. Touya slips his tongue tentatively, wondering if maybe he’s overdoing their fake kiss, but Keigo responds, brushing the tip of their tongues together and humming against the kiss.

Touya sucks in a breath as a warm feeling washes over him. But that’s when Keigo pulls away without notice.

“Sorry,” he pants, his eyes looking down. Touya hadn’t noticed how little they were breathing. “I mean, huh, thanks. It worked.” 

The room is silent, but their labored breathing echoes off all the walls. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands around Keigo’s waist (When did they get there?), but Keigo slowly untangles his arms from Touya’s neck. 

Who got carried away first? It’s the silent question between them that none wants to answer. Touya can always blame Keigo for coming up with the idea. Yet he was the idiot who went along with it. 

They are two big idiots. Period.

“I think, huh.” Keigo clears his throat. “I think we should go back.”

Touya gulps and takes a step back, crossing his legs and gripping a shelf with one hand. “You go ahead.”

“Hell, Touya. Don’t make this more awkward than it already is.”

“And whose fault it is?” he scoffs. “I wonder.”

Keigo drags a hand down his face. “Okay. It was mine. But it worked, see?” Touya doesn’t see shit. “I’ll make it up. I promise. Now, come.”

Keigo grabs Touya’s arm, but he slaps it away.

“I said you go first,” he grunts.

“But… why?”

“I can’t go out now, okay?” he grits out, hiding his front. “You want me to say it out loud?”

It takes Keigo a couple seconds more to pull two and two together and look down at Touya’s crotch, concealed by the darkness and his crossed legs.

His eyes are wide open, whether in terror or amusement, Touya doesn’t know.

“My eyes are up here,” he grumbles.

Of course Keigo doesn’t hear shit, staring shamelessly at Touya’s pants.

“Shit. So you can make this more awkward.”

Touya holds out an arm and shoves him slightly. “Hey, I’m not the one creating elaborated schemes to get me to kiss you.”

“Well, I’m not the one popping a b—”

Touya rushes to put a hand against Keigo’s mouth. He wishes he had made more fun of the maid dress when he had the chance. “How about we stop talking for a minute?” he grumbles as Keigo snickers under his breath.  

Rumi @ Kei Birb: nOt mY bOyFriEnD 🙄

Chapter Text

“Can you still see it?”

“Huh, eh…”

“Forget it. I don't want you staring at my crotch.”

“Hey! You're the one who asked! Where else am I supposed to look?”

“That's why I said forget it, okay? In fact, forget about everything that happened here. This was just… stupid.”

“It worked.”

“I said forget it! Now—”

A growling sound interrupts their bickering and Keigo brings his hands to his stomach. His cheeks turn scarlet, but his face is concealed by the dim lights of the storage room.

“Huh, sorry,” he mumbles. “I haven't eaten anything since this morning.”

Touya sniffs, the scowl in his face softening. 

“Let’s get out of here before you decide to jump on me again.”

“Hey!!”

Fifteen minutes later, they are eating yakisoba sitting on the main building’s entrance stairs. From there, they have a broad vision of the school festival, bustling and buzzing with students and visitors. People also go up and down the stairs to check the stands indoors. Not without casting a sly glance at Keigo first. 

If he used to draw all the attention around him with his large red wings, he now does it with his maid dress.

He hates it here. 

But the food is nice and Touya doesn’t make the atmosphere weird so neither does Keigo.

(Because it was only one kiss, and it was all fake, just like actors do in the movies, yes, just like that. Keigo let himself get carried away a little bit, but that didn’t mean anything at all.)

“So you prefer soba or udon?” Touya asks out of the blue before slurping his last mouthful of noodles.

Keigo gives him a quizzical look. “What?”

Touya wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before answering.

“Shouto likes cold soba. I like hot udon. Fuyumi likes miso ramen, and Natsuo likes normal ramen because he’s a boring fuck,” he says, as he lists with his fingers. Four fingers up, the pinky is the only left down. 

Keigo blinks. 

Touya is the same age as him, but his hands are as big as any adult’s. There are blue veins running up his arms as well. He can’t stop staring.

Blue eyes lock on Keigo before continuing. “What about you?”

“Huh, eh. I’ve never thought about it before?” He scratches his cheek. “I like yakitori better than noodles.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Chicken. Should’ve guessed.”

“Don’t give me the ‘you are a chicken, but you eat chicken’ joke,” he deadpans. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“Indeed, that’s a lame joke,” Touya snorts.

He rests his hand on his cheek and looks the other way. The black headscarf is still wrapped around him and a few red strands peek out. Fuzz of red hair curls up behind his neck and Keigo wishes he could run his hand along it.

Well, he did.

When they kissed back in the storage room.

Because they kissed. 

They kissed.

A foolish grin he can't disguise grows wide on Keigo’s face. 

They kissed. And it was stupid, and it was great, and it was a mistake, and Keigo wants to do it again.

His breathing stops for a second.

He wants to do it again.

It doesn't take long before Touya turns to him again, hand still resting on his cheek.

“What?” he snaps, squinting at him.

“What what ?” Keigo laughs.

“What are you looking at?” he insists, now frowning.

“Huh… eh…”

“Are you still hungry?”

That's not the reason he was looking at Touya, but it's not a lie either.

It's also the safest way out.

“Maybe…?” he offers with a nervous smile. 

Touya sighs and drops his head. “I think I saw a yakitori stand out there,” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “You wanna come?”

He doesn't know what trick Touya played on him, but right now Keigo feels so entranced he’d follow him anywhere like a moth to a flame.

“Sure,” he beams, wings flapping happily at his back.

Rumi @ Kei Birb: i can excuse you sneaking off to smooch with your not-bf

Rumi @ Kei Birb: but i draw the line at you slacking off

Rumi @ Kei Birb: where is your lazy ass!! the café is still open!!

It’s past lunch time and some stands are closed after selling all their food supply, as Touya’s class did. That doesn’t make the school festival any less crowded. Parents, family, and students from other hero schools have shown up for the afternoon schedule, that is, the class concerts and the beauty pageant. 

Luckily, the yakitori stand is still open and Keigo buys a skewer for each of them.

“I can pay my part, you know?” Touya grumbles when Keigo shoves the chicken in his face.

“You paid for my lunch,” Keigo insists, waving the skewer in the air. “I want to return the favor.”

“I literally just took the yakisoba from our stand. I didn’t pay shit.”

“Just shut up and let me invite you.”

Touya is not really hungry, so he eats half a skewer before offering the rest to Keigo, whose stomach seems like a bottomless pit.

Strolling through the school grounds, Touya watches him sideways. That was by all accounts Keigo's first kiss. No one kisses that badly the second time, but who knows when it comes to Keigo. Maybe he just sucks at it. There must be something he does lousy—he can't be good at everything. Besides, he wouldn't have asked for it so carelessly if it wasn't his first time.

Maybe only Touya worries about stuff like first kisses. If it was a first for Keigo, he looks in the least unaffected, happily eating his chicken.

If there's someone affected, that might be Touya.

“I think it's cute,” Keigo blurts and Touya chokes on his own spit. 

“What thing?” he mutters after clearing his throat.

“What you just said about your siblings. You act like this nonchalant, mysterious guy, but you actually know all their favorite dishes,” he laughs. “I think that's cute.”

Touya grumbles. “That’s only because…”

Because at some point his mother was too weak, too miserable to get out of bed and his father was nowhere to be seen, too busy complaining about his useless children and about Shouto taking too long to manifest his quirk. Back then, Touya hated to see the look on Fuyumi and Natsuo’s faces—it was like a mirror of his own self. 

One after another, the discarded offspring, the failed experiments, a hollow existence. 

So, at those times, Touya sneaked into the kitchen, boiled water, and took each of his siblings’ favorite noodles from the pantry. If they were going to be miserable, at least they were going to be miserable together eating junk food.

But Keigo wouldn't understand any of that. Not when he's been given everything in life—a purpose, a future, a place in this world. Everything Touya has not.

“Wait. Touya,” Keigo nudges him. “Is that your mom?”

His fight-or-flight response activates even before Touya can spot his mother in the crowd, guiding Shouto by the hand, Natsuo following them close behind.

“Shit,” he curses and takes Keigo's wrist to flee the scene and blend into the crowd, but it’s too late.

“Touya-nii!” Natsuo cries out, waving one long arm in the air. 

“Stupid giant,” Touya grumbles under his breath.

“You didn't say your parents were coming,” Keigo protests, draping his wings over his body to hide his stupid maid dress, his face turning beet red again.

“I didn't know either,” he grits through his teeth. “Damn Fuyumi. She may have told them about the festival.”

His mother smiles softly as she reaches their side. She's since gotten better, but the memory of those days it's still fresh in his mind. It feels like she would break like thin ice at any inconvenience and Touya doesn't want to be the one at fault.

He was the trigger once. Never again.

“Hi, Touya” she greets him. “I almost didn't recognize you with the headscarf. We were looking for your class’ stand, but it seems like you're done.” Her gray eyes turn to Keigo, who gives a start and tries to bury himself down his feathers. “Nice to see you too, Takami-kun. What did your class do?”

“Huh… eh…”

“Now, now. Let’s not disturb the lovebirds,” Natsuo mocks, pointing at Touya’s hand with his chin. Touya drops Keigo’s wrist and glares at his younger brother. “Seems like they are on a date.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” his mom gasps, bringing a hand to her face. “We didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Touya hates them all.

“Mom,” Shouto tugs at her dress. “We are going to miss the beauty pageant.”

She looks at her wristwatch. “You’re right, my love. Let’s go.” She then turns to Touya and Keigo. “Are you coming too, boys?”

Touya scoffs. “Why would I want to see that crap?”

“Fuyumi didn't tell you?” His mom tilts her head to the side. “She’ll be representing her class in the beauty pageant.”

A loud snort escapes his throat, but no one laughs with him.

“ Wait …” he freezes. “It wasn't a joke?”

Five minutes later, the three Todoroki brothers and their mom are cheering for Fuyumi at the outdoor stage set up in the courtyard. Touya, the least enthusiastic of them all, arms folded over his chest, studies the competition with critical eyes. Meanwhile, his mom and Shouto clap solemnly at all participants, and Natsuo screams his lungs out every time Fuyumi is mentioned.

If anyone asks, Touya will pretend he doesn't know him. 

Keigo vanished a couple of minutes ago, saying something about changing back into his school uniform. As if anyone cares what he’s wearing when everyone is dressed up in weird costumes at the school festival. Maybe the idiot thinks Endeavor will show up at any moment and he doesn't want to be seen in a maid dress by his idol.

(Too bad for him his idol has his head up his own ass and couldn't care less about his family—he wouldn't show up at their school even if Shouto participated in the beauty pageant.)

Fuyumi comes out on stage wearing her hair in a high ponytail and a white dress with sheer sleeves. Her entrance is musicalized with the soundtrack of Frozen. Touya holds back a snicker. She looks so different from her everyday look—her worn dungaree, machine oil on her nose, crooked glasses, and uncombed hair. She looks a lot like her mother, elegant and graceful, especially if she stretches out her arm and makes a little snow fall on the audience. Whoops of surprise follow as the snowflakes sparkle and glisten, and the little show is closed by a round of applause.

Touya doesn't laugh anymore. 

It's not every day that Fuyumi uses her quirk.

There’s too much history in it. Painful history. About her. About him.

The only thing Fuyumi got from Endeavor was the red highlights in her temples. Everything else screamed Himura.

On his part, Touya may have the hair and eye color of his father, but in all other aspects he's an echo of his mom—thin and weak. Unstable, too.

“Your sister looks so pretty,” Keigo admires.

Touya jolts at the sudden apparition. It’s as if Keigo had materialized there beside him, dressed in his school uniform. How he found them among the crowd is a mystery. But then, red wings wiggle on his back. Oh, right. It wouldn't surprise Touya if Keigo’s feathers had helped him change into his uniform as well.

Gold eyes turn to him and Touya feels his head pounding.

That’s probably the music giving him a headache. The music, the people, his thoughts, and fucking Keigo who won't leave him alone.

He wants to go home.

“You think she can win this?” Keigo continues.

Touya snorts. “That’s my sister, genius. I know things about Fuyumi that could disqualify her from a beauty pageant.”

Keigo laughs.

He doesn't just smile, or chuckle, or giggle. He laughs, ever so openly, so heartily, it makes Touya's stomach churn.

“You shouldn't have come,” Touya mumbles.

“'s okay. We ran out of cakes at the Café and Rumi and Moe decided to call it a day. Most of the school is at the beauty pageant anyway.”

“Endeavor won't show up.”

Keigo's laugh fades as if Touya had thrown a bucket of water over him. He can almost see it—golden locks sticking to his temples, his hair dripping, his uniform shirt clinging to his body.

“I… wasn't expecting to see Endeavor.”

Touya doesn't know what is happening on stage anymore. The crowd around them has disappeared and so have the chatter, the applauses, the cheering. All he sees in front of him is Keigo dressed to the nines, no tie, half his shirt tucked into his pants, his sleeves rolled up, his shoes untied.

“I mean, you don't have to do this anymore.” Touya points at the space between them back and forth. Keigo follows the motion with a blank expression. “The school festival is almost over, and we just kept up the charade to save your ass, didn't we? If you keep hanging with me you'll have problems with your manager or whatever.” Keigo is painfully silent. It's better that way. He doesn’t want to hear his excuses. “You don't have to stick around when my family is around to keep up appearances. Natsuo and Fuyumi know it's all fake.”

The corner of Keigo's lips quirks up, but Touya wouldn't call that a smile.

“I ain't here to pretend anything,” he says. “I like your family.”

The fire inside his gut blazes and sizzles and he's this close to snap. Keigo’s image looks blurred and wavy, distorted, as if Touya is watching him through a campfire. 

His throat tightens. 

Here comes the feeling he thought he had forgotten.

“Exactly,” Touya mutters. “You like my family. You don't like me .”

He turns on his feet and doesn’t stay for the end of the beauty pageant.

(no new messages)

Keigo lays in bed and stares at the ceiling. His wings are draped over the futon and his primaries brush the floor. It's dark and the lights are off, but his curtains are too thin to keep out the lights from outside. The silhouette of trees dances on the ceiling like a private shadow theater. It's as if he's a child all over again and finds distractions in the littlest things. But now he has a bed, a room. The garbage bags scattered everywhere are gone and there are no cracks in the wall where the cold sneaks in.

He's not cold at night anymore, but his heart is fighting off the numbness of frostbite. 

Touya's words were like an ice needle to his chest.

“You like my family, you don't like me.”

Well, who said Keigo doesn't like him ?

He turns in bed and buries his face on the pillows. 

Getting caught in this fake dating thing was a bad idea and he's had tons of bad ideas throughout his short life. 

Like kissing Touya. That was a terrible idea.

Though he could hardly call it an idea. It was an impulse, a rush, a fire in his gut.

And the kiss was like a print in his memory. The tip of Touya's tongue against his own made him feel like never before, like he could fly even if his wings were all but ashes.

Touya might've (fake) broken up with him for a second time, but here's Keigo feeling the ghost of Touya's lips on his own.

Had he known he would've liked it so much, would he do it again?

Had he known he would be thinking of Touya like this…

Like what?

He presses the pillow against his face tighter.

He can't.

They can't.

He already told the Commission they had broken up and he should stick to that.

(no new messages)

Rumi kicks his ass during their next sparring session. 

He wishes he could say he was too distracted thinking about bridging the distance that had grown between Touya and him… but that would be a lie. Rumi always kicks his ass.

Which doesn’t mean he hasn’t been thinking lots about Touya lately.

And talking to him very little as well.

They haven’t talked since the school festival. Period.

It's been two weeks since then.

Keigo hasn't ventured to text him and Touya hasn't said a peep either. Not that the guy is one to text out of the blue. Their relationship was just contractual, for their own benefit. Touya never wrote unless he wanted something out of him. And so did Keigo.

Now that they don't need a fake boyfriend, there is no reason to reach out to each other.

They share no classes, no group of friends, nor the way back home. Sometimes Keigo thinks he has seen him in the distance, a glimpse of fiery red hair. But it could have been anyone. Yuuei is huge and there are so many students around. They rarely bumped into each other before, they aren't going to start now.

Was it Keigo who ruined it all or they were always supposed to end this way?

Suspended, inconclusive, unresolved.

“So, it's over now, huh?” Rumi asks. She offers Keigo a sports drink and sits on the floor at his side.

They are training in one of the school's gyms, though Keigo has had enough for today and is lying on his back staring at the ceiling.

He's been looking at the ceiling a lot lately.

A reminder of the walls that fence his life.

“What is?” Even talking makes home exhausted. The sports drink lies on his stomach, but he has no energy to grab it.

“You and Todoroki…”

Yet Touya's name is all he needs to sit up in a rush, all of his feathers standing on end.

Rumi looks at him with an arched eyebrow and a dropped ear. Her hair, damp from training, clings to her temples and shoulders as she takes a swig of her drink.

“And…?” she prompts.

“Huh… well, you know we were never a thing to begin with,” he mumbles, fiddling with the bottle in his fingers.

“I don't know, man. You sticking your tongue down Touya's throat did look like ‘a thing’ to me.”

Keigo kicks her with the last bit of strength he has. “Shut up,” he mutters. “I just did it to get rid of you.”

Rumi scoffs. “Sure. Because it was me who put a gun to your head to make you kiss Touya.”

He sighs and runs both hands through his hair. His head is a mess.

“I shouldn't have done that,” he utters to himself.

“Oh, the part where you agreed to fake date the son of Endeavor to meet your idol, or the part where you fell in love with him?” 

Rumi looks like she's having the time of her life.

Keigo just plops down on his back again. “Shit, Rumi. You are supposed to help me here.”

“Said who?”

“Said I!”

“Don’t look at me like that. I am only an external spectator,” she hums as she lies down on her stomach by Keigo’s side. “I always wondered why you never had a crush on anyone in school. Took you long enough.”

She plays with his outer feathers, straightening the ones that are bent. It feels nice. It reminds him of childhood (the happy bits) and of his mother preening his feathers. After he joined the Commission’s hero program, his feathers became a gadget, a tool, a weapon. An instrument. 

But lying here with Rumi, idling the time away, reminds him that he’s just a boy still.

“You know,” he says in a soft voice, fingers crossed over his stomach. “When I first joined high school two years ago, everything was too much. Too many people, too many classes, too much stimuli. I was trained for years to sharpen my senses through my feathers and then they suddenly threw me into the real world like it’s nothing. I didn’t know how to make it stop. The voices, the rustle, the noises—it was driving me crazy. So I shut myself in. I just studied and trained and studied again…”

“...and then you met your great friend Usagiyama Rumi who saved you from being a big nerd,” she concludes, twirling a loose feather between her fingers.

Keigo laughs. “How is it that we became friends again?”

Rumi squints at the feather as if it could give her an answer. “I’m not sure… I guess it just happened.”

Touya and him… they just happened as well. 

Keigo could’ve fake dated Touya, gotten his Endeavor poster signed, and called it a day. But he stayed. 

If he never had a school crush before, that was because no one ever had caught his attention enough like Touya did.

"Okay, class. Listen up,” says their homeroom teacher, Gang Orca, the following Monday. “Your literature teacher is on sick leave for two weeks.” A chorus of joy runs through the room. “But that doesn't mean you will be slacking off.” The chorus of joy is now a cocktail of whines. “The literature class with Cementoss-sensei coincides with your schedule, so you will take that lesson with the class 3-G in the meantime."

Keigo’s stomach sinks to the floor.

Sharing a class with General Studies.

That means…

That means everyone turns to him when they enter the lecture hall.

Everyone except for a redhead on the first row.

The lecture hall is bigger than their regular classrooms, as they need to accommodate two classes in one. Down on the pitched floor, Cementoss-sensei is waiting for the newcomers to take seats, so Keigo swiftly settles on a chair at the last row, away from curious eyes and acrid whispers.

At this point, the entire school, teachers and principal included, know that Touya and him quote unquote broke up. What else did he expect though. They spent a whole month glued by the hip, going up and down together, and now they had suddenly stopped talking. 

(All the better for Keigo—there are just too many eyes and ears in Yuuei. If he hadn't publicly broken up with Touya, the rumors would've reached the Commission one way or another.)

Breaking up like this was the best option, his most convincing move to please the Director's orders. Keigo has never been a problem child, he's not going to start now.

‘Good boys make me sick to my stomach,’ was one of the many hurtful things Touya had said. But, well, the idiot doesn't exactly look like a delinquent right now, sitting at the front of the class, ears perked up in attention, his hands raising to pose questions that Keigo can't even begin to understand. 

At some point of the class Touya is standing on his feet and reads an excerpt of a book. Keigo can only see the crow of his head, his spiky hair pointing in all directions like a sizzling flame. His voice transports him somewhere else—maybe to that time when they slept side by side in Touya's room, or that other time when Touya brought him food while Keigo was sick.

It was probably that time at the storage room as they talked in whispers so as to not be overheard by the shadows.

Touya's voice is something that exists out there in the outside world, but it once murmured against Keigo's lips.

‘Leave it to me, okay?’ he had said at that time.

Five words were enough to disarm Keigo and bring him to his feet. He would've melted on the floor if Touya hadn't grabbed his waist.

“Hey, Keigo?” Rumi waves a hand in front of him. “You’re zoning out. Class is over for today.”

It's only when Rumi smacks him on the back that he comes to his senses. A quiet murmur hovers around the lecture hall as students line up to exit the classroom. 

Touya, on his part, brings his notebook to Cementoss’ desk and asks questions, scribbles down on the corners, nods vigorously, his eyebrows pulled together in interest.

Keigo had never seen that twinkle in his eyes before.

And as if he is calling his name, blue eyes turn to him.

It feels like a lifetime, but in less than a heartbeat, Touya has turned his attention back to the teacher.

Keigo finds those same eyes standing out his door a week later.

An incessant and sudden pounding on the door had startled him as he studied on his desk. He rarely has visits. Let alone unannounced. The first time was Touya. The second one…

is also Touya.

He's panting, his breath escaping in white clouds. His hands are fisted at his sides and the jacket’s cap is pulled over his head. Sweat glistens on his forehead and neck, as if he had run all the way from his house. 

He probably did, because he also wears a bag on his back.

“I didn't know where else to go,” he rasps. 

Chapter Text

It would’ve been better if he just had fought with Endeavor, as usual. He would’ve taken all his anger out on him and blamed him for everything. Ask him why he gave Touya a purpose in life only to strip it away right after—you know, a normal day at the Todoroki household.

Except he didn’t.

Except he fought with Fuyumi instead.

“Are you angry at me?” he asked his sister during the ride back home. Their mom was driving while Fuyumi took the passenger seat. The three Todoroki brothers were squeezed into the back seat. “Are you angry I didn’t stay for the end of the beauty pageant?”

Fuyumi looked outside, her head pressed against the window. A quiet playlist filled the silence in the car.

“’m not,” she said after a brief pause.

Natsuo looked at him out of the corner of his eye as if to say. ‘Damn, dude. She’s mad af.’

Touya rolled his eyes. Well, the rest of the family was there to see her win second place. It’s not like his presence mattered or anything.

Maybe she was angry because they spent an hour looking for him after the festival was over. 

Touya had sneaked to the back courtyard, wanting for a moment alone where no one could find him (where Keigo couldn’t find him). No one told his family they had to wait for him, he knew how to get home by himself. He always did.

But mom liked to carry her kids around like a little flock.

It’s too late for that, mom. Too late.

Fuyumi and he didn’t talk anymore about it, but something had indeed shifted around them. 

They had never been best friends—they were too different, too opposites to always be on the best terms. Fuyumi was conciliatory while Touya preferred confrontation. Fuyumi always wanted to please their parents while Touya looked for new ways to irritate them. But at the end of the day, they were siblings first and foremost.

And siblings fight.

That day during dinner, Fuyumi was flustered and fidgety, playing around with her food as if she was collecting the words to say something.

“I want to tell you guys something,” she began sheepishly.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got yourself a boyfriend,” Touya teased her just because.

“Talking about boyfriends,” Natsuo quirked an eyebrow. “Where’s yours, huh?”

“Yes, where’s Keigo-nii?” Shouto inquired.

“We broke up,” Touta shrugged, picking at his food with the chopsticks. Shouto and his mom gasped. “What? It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything.”

A vein popped out on Endeavor’s forehead, but he didn’t lift his eyes from his plate. “You won’t marry any boy,” he muttered.

The atmosphere soon turned hostile. Just the way Touya liked it.

“Don’t worry. I won’t plan on marrying anybody,” he sneered, looking at his father from under his red eyelashes. “But I’ll date tons of boys, that’s for sure. Don’t think Keigo is the last one.”

A growl rumbled in the back of Endeavor’s throat, but mom put a hand to his arm in a feeble attempt to cool him down. “Not now, darling,” she said in a whisper before turning to their only daughter. “Fuyumi, dear. You wanted to say something?”

She squeezed a piece of chicken between her chopsticks and glared at Touya as if he were the vane of her existence. “No, ‘s okay,” she said, pushing her glasses to the end of her nose.

After dinner, it was Fuyumi and Touya’s turn to pick up the table.

“Don’t bottle it all up,” he said as he collected the dishes. “You’ll blow up eventually, and that ain't pretty.”

She exhaled sharply, piling up the smaller dishes. “Not everyone is like you, Touya. I don't want to make an argument out of everything.”

He squinted at her and placed the dishes back on the table. He wasn't taking this conversation to the kitchen where Fuyumi could slip away to her room and leave things unfinished, all the words clogged in her throat unsaid.

“What do you mean?” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s just…” A finger twirled around a lock of white hair. “Ugh, forget about it. It's nothing.” She tried to walk past him, but he snatched her arm and made her stay.

“No, you tell me what's going on,” he insisted, taking the stack of plates from her hands, and placing them on the table as well. Fuyumi flinched. “You’ve been acting weird the past two weeks. What did I do to you?”

“Nothing,” she looked away—the same gray in her mother's eyes that pretended nothing was wrong. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“Well, but I do want to talk about it. Is it because of the beauty pageant? Jeez, Fuyumi. I didn't know something so stupid was important to you.”

“It’s not about it…”

“Then, what is it, huh?” His hand closed tightly around her wrist. “Say it. I can't guess what I did wrong if you don't tell me.”

“Touya-nii!” Natsuo had heard them from the kitchen and stepped between the two, looking at his brother in reprobation. He was the youngest of the three but was taller and stockier. The good version of their father that Touya never was. “You're hurting our sister.”

Touya clicked his tongue. “Oh, you’re going to hide behind Natsuo now?” he snapped at Fuyumi. “I knew you didn't have the guts to argue with me one-on-one.”

“I… I don't want to argue,” she said in a quiet voice, eyes glassy and words quaking. Her hand closed around the back of Natsuo’s shirt. “I don't want to argue anymore. It’s the same thing every day and I'm tired…”

Oh, and now she was crying? Touya huffed. Call him whatever, but he hates when women cry. Especially when they look so much like his mother.

He'd had enough of his mom crying for a lifetime.

His nostrils flared. “Well, we argue because this family is a fucking montage.”

“Not everything is that bad, Touya.” She raised her voice a bit and yes, that’s what he wanted. Fight. Fight back. “We… there are some of us that are trying. I'm trying, and you…” Her eyes were sharp like ice needles when they stared at him. “You just make everything about yourself.”

He blinks and the gray framed by black turns into liquid amber. There's a steamy cup of tea in his hand and Keigo looks at him with eyes as big as two moons. 

They are sitting across from each other at the low table of Keigo’s small studio. The light of the room is warm and drapes over them like a blanket, but that doesn’t make the atmosphere any less awkward.

Everyone says Touya is dramatic, but this time he spoke the truth. He really had nowhere else to go. Well, he could’ve gone to Tenko’s, but his grandmother would’ve been there, and she would’ve let Endeavor know about his firstborn’s whereabouts and he didn’t want that.

He wanted to disappear for a day, for a night, just for a little while, and Keigo was his best option.

No one in his family knew where he lived.

The thing is, he treated Keigo like shit the last time they talked.

Maybe Fuyumi is right, and he does spoil anything he touches.

Keigo clears his throat and throws him an uneasy look. “What… happened? You haven’t said a word since you came in.”

Touya takes a sip of tea before placing the cup on the table. “I… I fought with Fuyumi.”

Red wings puff up and Keigo’s lips form a perfect ‘o’. It’s almost cute. It’d make Touya smile if he were in the mood. But he’s not.

“Uh… I see. Was it bad?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t that bad.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

Touya sighs. “‘s okay.”

‘We’re not perfect, okay? But you… you just make everything worse.’

‘What do you want me to do, huh? Pretend everything is goddam fine all the time? Well, sorry for not being a people pleaser like you are.’

‘Guys… guys, stop it.’

‘You just don’t let good things happen to other people. After the School Festival, we were looking for you. We were so worried. Keigo was looking for you too, and said you disappeared out of nowhere. We thought… we thought…’

‘Oh, so this was about the beauty pageant after all?’

‘It was not! Listen, don’t you understand? And then today. Today I just wanted to tell everyone I got first place in an support equipment contest, but you didn’t let me say anything!’

‘Is it my fault now? Just fucking speak louder.’

‘That’s not how it works!’

‘How does it work, then? Please, enlighten me.’

“Touya,” Keigo’s voice brings him back to the present. To the narrow room with little furniture and the fridge buzzing in the distance. “I mean… Todoroki.” Keigo brings a hand to the back of his neck. His eyes are somewhere else, and his cheeks are flushed. Maybe it’s the tea he’s also drinking. “You can… you can stay the night if you want. I don’t promise my pajamas will fit you, but we can try.”

He chuckles with little enthusiasm, but at least Keigo pulled a smile out of him. “We’ll see.”

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: hELP. 

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: todoroki came to my house, says he wants to spend the night.

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: wHAT DO I DO

Yu @ the girls ft. birb: you still got the condoms?

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: jesus

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: he’s SAD! he just fought with his family!!

Rumi @ the girls ft. birb: so……… you still got the condoms?

Keigo @ the girls ft. birb: …

Keigo has left the chat group.

Yu @ the girls ft. birb: i think he doesn’t.

Keigo splashes water on his face and looks at himself in the mirror.

It’s okay, he tells himself as droplets roll down his cheeks. They’ve already slept together before. 

Well, certainly not like this (and not like that either). Back then, they barely knew each other and there was one futon for each of them. Now, they might know a bit too much for their liking and there’s only one bed. Why would Keigo need a spare futon? It's not as if he’s allowed to invite friends over.

The Commission would pluck all of his feathers if they could see him now.

While he reads in the dim light of the small table, Touya lays in bed, wearing one of Keigo’s pajamas, the duvet thrown over his shoulder—a big distraction. If Keigo focuses hard enough, he can pretend he doesn’t hear Touya’s quiet breathing.

Lies, he does. 

And the idiot hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

When Keigo looks up from his book, there’s a blue eye staring at him from underneath the duvet, crowned by red spikes of hair. 

“You’re not sleeping,” Touya says.

It’s a statement, not a question. 

And how's Keigo supposed to get any rest when those blue eyes glow over him like two flashlights? A complete mystery.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me.” He looks at his book again. “I was already planning on staying up late studying.”

“As expected of the golden boy.”

Keigo sends a feather in Touya’s direction to poke his face. “Shut up.”

“What do you have to study anyway?” He props himself up on one elbow. “Aren't you guys supposed to be okay just throwing punches here and there?”

“We still have a general curriculum to approve.”

Touya catches the feather fluttering around him and rubs it between his thumb and index finger. Keigo shivers, all his skin blossoming in goosebumps. 

He didn't see that coming.

“Well, I guess we cannot afford to have dumb heroes when our lives depend on them.”

Eyes fixed on the book, the words dance on the pages, blurry, unfocused, and Keigo doesn't get a single thing of what he's reading. Not when his brain is buzzing with Touya’s touch, with the way he runs his thumb along the quill, as if there wasn't a direct line connecting Keigo to his feathers.

Does he even know the effect it has on him?

“Tou… Todoroki.” He clears his throat. “You know… you know I can feel that, right?”

There it goes again, his transparent eyes flicking up towards Keigo like it's nothing, like it doesn't make his heart race and his throat go dry.

“Huh? What thing?”

“My feathers. Uh… they're like an extension of me even if they're detached from my wings.”

The feather wiggles in Touya’s fingers, proving the point.

He blinks. “You feel this?”

“Yea.”

A lazy smile tugs at his lips. “And what if I eat it?”

Keigo frowns. “Don't do that.”

“Would it be like you were inside my stomach?”

“Why is that the first thing that comes to your mind?”

“What if it goes through all my digestion and ends up in…”

“Jeez, Todoroki. Just go to sleep. You're talking nonsense.”

“‘m not sleepy.”

Keigos gives him a flat stare. The guy is twirling the feather by its quill, contemplating the possibilities and Keigo doesn't want to know what Touya is capable of, so he calls the feather back.

Or at least he tries to.

Touya clutches the feather in his fingers as if his life depends on it, throwing Keigo a mischievous smile. The feather wiggles, trying to break free, but it's impossible.

Keigo drops his pen and turns to Touya.

“Gimme that.”

Touya pulls his arm back in a swift movement. “Nu-huh,” he croons.

Keigo huffs. Where do those quick reflexes come from? Whatever. He's stronger than Touya and he can pin him down in a jiffy.

Like now, when he slides a leg over Touya’s lap and sits on top of him, over the duvet.

Blue eyes open widely, but Touya doesn't get to utter a word before his arms are put over his head, Keigo’s hands gripping his wrists.

“Drop it,” he mutters, his wings fluffing and hovering at his back, casting a threatening shadow over Touya, who doesn't move a muscle.

He blinks a couple of times, his eyelashes as velvety and long as soft vanes, before he uncurls his fingers and Keigo's feather flies back to his owner.

“You… huh” Touya clears his throat. “You know that this has the opposite effect of making me asleep? I mean, if that's what you went for.”

Keigo only wanted for him to stop being such a pest for five fucking minutes, but it’s not working.

He lets go of Touya’s wrists and sighs. “Aren't you supposed to be like, I don't know, sad?”

His arms still thrown over his head, Touya scowls. “People can feel more than one thing at the same time, Keigo.”

The fact that he still calls him by his first name shouldn't make him breathless, nor make his heart pound so hard against his ribs, but it does.

He shouldn't have perched himself on top of Touya, but he did.

Many things are not what they should be.

Touya shouldn't be here in the first place.

Keigo tries to get off of him, but Touya grabs his shirt. Cheeks flushed, widen pupils, his hair is like a red whirlwind and Keigo is trapped in his firestorm.

It's not easy to guess what he's going for.

And Keigo can't go there. He might not be able to come back this time.

“Todoroki…” His voice is a weak thread, his hands rest on the side of Touya’s head. “We can't.”

Touya tugs at him tighter. “We can't do what?”

“Whatever you're thinking. We can't do that.”

He arches an eyebrow, clearly amused by Keigo's feeble resistance. “Are you dating someone or what?”

“It’s not that… you know I can't date people.”

“Then what is it?” Touya counters.

Keigo presses their foreheads together. Maybe like this, he might push him back, even when he can't.

He can't.

“What if…” He doesn't think he can endure more of that blue stare, so his eyes flick down to Touya’s lips. And maybe that wasn't a good idea either. They are rosy, parted, and inviting. He thanks that there's an extra layer between them and Touya can't feel the blood rushing to his southernmost. “What if… I start to like it? Like… really like it?”

Touya tilts his head to the side. “What thing?”

His heart pulses out of control and it’s so unfair. It’s so unfair that he’s the only one trying to stop this while Touya just adds fuel to the fire and plays dumb, pretending he doesn't know what he’s doing.

Not that Keigo knows what he’s doing either.

He cups one of Touya’s cheeks on his hand and says, “You, I mean.”

If he put two fingers against Touya’s jawline, he might realize he’s not the only one with an erratic heartbeat, but he doesn’t need to check his vital signs. It’s enough to see his pupils shrinking and his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You like me?” he asks, craning his head up trying to shorten the distance between them.

“Maybe? I dunno.”

“Would it be so terrible?”

His lips curl in a wry smile and Keigo can’t help but smile too.

“Only if you make it terrible.”

His fingers run through red spikes of hair and that’s his limit. Keigo leans his head to the side and loosens the self-imposed boundaries. They never were that stable anyway.

“You should know me by now.” It’s the last thing he hears Touya say before their lips seal in a kiss.

All the air stored in his lungs slowly dissolves as do the thoughts in his head and the weight of reason that pulls him down to earth. Laws of gravity weren’t made for people like him and, for once, he doesn’t want other people to tell him what to do.

Touya’s lips are as soft as he remembers—both sweet and lemony. He hums against Keigo’s mouth and breathes in deeply, both hands climbing to the opposite neck, just in case Keigo decides to back out.

But he can’t. He can’t.

Keigo parts his lips and dips a sheepish tongue into the kiss. In response, Touya clings to him tighter, propping himself up on one elbow, his fingers tugging at the blond locks curling on Keigo’s nape. Their tongues slide into each other’s mouths, their heads angling in different directions as if that’d let them go deeper and deeper.

But they have school tomorrow, and Touya’s parents are probably looking for him, Fuyumi must feel horrible…

“Take this outta here,” Touya mutters, kicking away the comforter that keeps them apart. “It’s in the way.”

As Keigo flutters his eyes open (when did he close them?), he finds Touya leaning back against his elbows, lips swollen and out of breath. His shoulders look small, drowning in Keigo’s clothes, and the shirt’s collar dips down, revealing a bony clavicle and a glimpse of his chest.

Keigo doesn’t dare to look down. At least not with the lights on, so he shoots one of his feathers to turn off the switch.

Touya’s chuckle floats in the darkness. “What's wrong?”

“I… I dunno…” he laughs too. “I might be panicking a bit.”

He winces when one warm hand sneaks down his shirt.

“You sure are,” Touya observes. “You sure you’re the same person that asked me for a kiss in the storage room?”

Keigo nudges him. “That was a contingency plan.”

It’s hard to hold back a sigh when Touya’s hand travels up his back, his fingertips radiating a cozy warmth against his skin.

“And now?”

“What about n—?”

A rustle in the dark follows a gentle pressure against his crotch and Keigo gives a start. He didn’t expect Touya to push his hips up and rub their humps together, seeking to alleviate himself too, but the guy is right—Keigo should know him by now.

“What is your contingency plan now?” Touya insists.

Keigo says fuck it and rolls his hips down, pulling a choked groan out of Touya. “Do I look like I have a plan?”

Touya catches his lips in another heaty kiss, both hands gripping Keigo’s hips, helping him to set a rhythm and apply adequate pressure. Keigo grinds against him like it’s the real thing, like they are the real thing, panting in Touya’s mouth, straddling his lap like he doesn’t want to ever let him go.

He feels an animalistic urge taking over him and now it’s him who tugs at Touya’s shirt, well, his shirt on Touya, and he doesn’t care if it rips open, or if they stain their clothes, nor if they’re being too loud for his neighbors’ liking. Keigo buries his head in the crook of Touya’s shoulder and grunts, his wings unfolding behind his back, his feathers twitching in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, Keigo,” Touya splutters, throwing his arms around Keigo’s neck. “Harder.”

He pushes his hips forward, rough and desperate, not sure if it feels good or if it hurts at this point. He doesn’t care about the sweat sticking to his clothes, nor that he’s showing how hard and soaked he is—how much he craves for this.

“Shit, Touya. I’m… I’m—"

He makes a strangled noise against the opposite shoulder. His fingers feel like talons sinking into the sides of Touya and his wings flap out of control. He wheezes, his heartbeat ringing in his ears, and his vision fading to white.

He’s read that an orgasm is like a thunder shock, but instead of a strike of lightning, he’s swept by a tidal wave that doesn’t let him go, and never will.

Chapter Text

Keigo is lying on the bed, eyes trained on the ceiling, wearing a pajama bottom that doesn't match the top. Certain giddy sensation still tickles his lower belly, but he tries not to think on its cause. A tough task to accomplish when Touya flushes the toilet somewhere behind the door and walks out of the bathroom wearing athletic shorts.

Keigo doesn't have enough pajama sets to spare and, after making a mess of the ones they were wearing, they had to improvise. That is, making a ball of their tainted clothes and throwing them into the laundry.

If they don't see the evidence, then they can pretend their grinding session never happened.

Just as if they never talk about it.

“We are not talking about this,” Touya says, sitting on the bed’s edge, never meeting Keigo’s eyes.

At least there's one thing they agree on.

Keigo turns on the bed and faces the wall.

“Fine for me. There's nothing to talk about,” he says.

Something had shifted in the air around them, the thick tension now dissolved.

Now that Keigo can see through the haze, he guesses that Touya and he were just two young, horny guys who needed some release. They needed to put their hands on someone, anyone, and since they were already pretending to be a couple, they might as well use each other.

Oh, right. They're not putting on the couple’s act anymore. It's hard to remember they are no longer quote-unquote together when Keigo was the first person Touya ran to when he had nowhere else to go.

It's hard to remember what they’re supposed to be when Keigo wakes up a few hours later to his phone alarm and finds himself cuddling Touya in bed.

He snaps his eyes open as one of his diligent feathers turns off the alarm.

Shit. Are you serious?

Chest pressed against Touya’s back, he's spooning the idiot in bed, one arm casually thrown over his stomach, their ankles intertwined together. How did this happen when Keigo fell asleep facing the wall? Well, it’s not his fault that his bird quirk makes it hard to keep himself warm while Touya’s body is a heather.

(He remembers that time in battle class when they made Keigo identify the strengths and weaknesses of his quirk.

He remembers writing “fire” in his list of weaknesses.

He didn’t mean it like this, though.)

He hates it here.

And yet…

He huddles closer to Touya and throws a wing over them to keep the warmth from escaping.

“Ngg…” Touya groans, still half-asleep, and turns on bed. His spiky white hair gets into Keigo’s eye. “What ya doin’?”

Keigo is not trying anything, he swears, other than stealing warmth from Touya.

“Nothing. It's just that you’re wa—"

Next thing he knows, Touya has thrown him across the room with an unexpected strength for someone so skinny, or maybe Keigo was too comfortable in the embrace to react accordingly.

His back hits the wall, but his wings cushion the fall. He’s still a little groggy when he looks up and notices Touya shuffling to the bathroom.

“I need to pee,” he drawls.

Fuyumi missed call (9)

Fuyumi: Touya-nii, please pick up the phone

Fuyumi: i’m sorry... i’m really sorry about what i said…

Fuyumi: please, show up. we’ve been searching everywhere for you.

Natsuo missed call (5)

Natsuo: dude. you're scaring us. where the hell are you ???

Mom missed call (7)

Endeavor missed call (8)

The next morning, Touya is buttoning up the shirt of his school uniform like a good boy that never misses school. He doesn't think he deserves Keigo’s wary look.

“So, you run away from home but you draw the line at skipping school?” he sneers.

Touya should've thrown him harder against the wall when he had the chance.

He fixes his tie in front of the mirror. “You’d rather I stay and risk your handlers finding me here?”

Keigo shudders. “No, thank you.”

“Besides, I’ve skipped school enough already.” He sighs. “If I keep this up, they won't let me graduate and god knows I only want my diploma and get the hell out of here.”

Keigo’s pained expression floats in the mirror, but it's not there anymore when Touya turns over his shoulders, his eyes landing on yellow.

“Where… are you going after you graduate?” he asks, his wings flapping on his back.

“Dunno. Somewhere cold and far away. Sapporo feels like a good option so far.”

“Do… your parents know about this?”

“They don't know where I am, let alone that we never were together in the first place. Of course they don't know where I intend to go after graduation.” He takes a step forward and Keigo moves back, caged against the wall. His wings ruffle. “Unless you go and tell Endeavor.”

Keigo’s pupil is a black vertical line, eerie and animal-like. Has it always been like this or Touya has never noticed?

“I ain't no snitch,” he grits through his teeth and walks past Touya, bumping his shoulder in the process. “And you can go and freeze your ass in the Arctic, for all I care.”

Keigo says that, but he still offers Touya a bike ride to school.

Out in the street, Keigo unlocks the bike, removes the crank arm, and grabs the handlebar as if he were a human being without a flying quirk.

Touya kicks the front wheel lightly. “I thought you always got around on your wings.”

Keigo deadpans. “I can't use my quirk without a license. You should know that.”

He knows that, but plays dumb anyway.

“Don't you have, like, any privilege for being the Commission’s golden boy?”

“My privilege is that they haven't installed cameras in the apartment I live in, as far as I know.”

Touya snorts. Oh, if they only knew what they did last night. Bye bye golden boy then.

(If that's what it takes to free Keigo from those fuckers...

He low-key wishes they knew.)

Keigo swings a leg over the bike and looks over his shoulder. “Are you getting on or not? I’ve got things to do early today. Though you're free to walk yourself to school if you want to.”

Touya considers the offer. He doesn't want to be seen getting to school with Keigo, riding the same bicycle on top of it. But who's he trying to fool? He's a lazy fuck and would never say no to a free ride. Besides, everyone and their moms think they are already dating. There's no use in hiding.

He didn't count on Keigo’s feathers sticking into his nose and eyes while he rode on the back of the bike.

His bad.

“Stop squeezing me so hard," Keigo complains as he cycles by. Touya has his head buried in Keigo’s shoulder blades, but the breeze still whistles in his ears and the air brushes through his hair.

He closes his arms tighter around Keigo's waist.

“I don't see anything,” he retorts. “I don't want to fall.”

“You won't fall. We're going slow.”

The roads in autumn are carpeted with brown leaves—both soggy and dry. Keigo cycles through narrow streets with little traffic, and the silence, interrupted at times by the spinning wheels, is well received.

Too bad Keigo decides to talk.

“Todoroki… kun.” He utters and doesn't continue until Touya makes a humming sound, showing that he's listening. “You know… Fuyumi is friends with Rumi and the rest, right?”

He rolls his eyes.

Touya doesn't even know who ‘the rest’ are. Of course he won't know who Fuyumi is friends with.

But surely she knows he's friends with Shigaraki. She probably knew he would get along with Keigo even before they met. After all, she got into the Yuuei support course just to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

As if she could read his mind and foresee what he was up to.

But he wasn't that hard to read.

Touya always did a lousy job as the eldest brother, too busy trying to gain their father's favor, so Fuyumi had to step up and take care of her silly brothers.

The day before, she didn't say anything that wasn't true.

That was the worse part.

“Hmm,” Touya buzzes again and snuggles closer to Keigo, his eyes closing. He wishes the guy could only take him to school; he doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Fuyumi was worried ‘bout you last night," Keigo continues. He goes much slower than he's supposed to, as if he wanted to drag this conversation forever. "She asked all her friends if they knew anything. Me included. So… I told her you were with me.” Touya’s arms twitch around Keigo’s waist. The bastard. “Don’t get mad at me, okay? Your poor sister was having it hard enough as it was.”

“Whatever,” he mutters.

“I don't have any siblings, so I don't know how it feels.” The bike screeches as Keigo stops at a red light. After a few seconds, he keeps riding. “I won't be the one to tell you that family is family. My dad was a bastard and my mom got rid of me as soon as she had the chance. But… Fuyumi is a good girl, isn't she? Look.”

The bike brakes and Touya suddenly hears Fuyumi shouting: “Touya-niiii!!”

He perks his head up. They are at the school entrance and Fuyumi comes running towards him, Natsuo and Shouto behind her.

Her eyes, swollen from tears and lack of sleep, look bigger behind her glasses. She seems angry and pained in equal parts. Touya couldn't tell for sure if she's going to slap her in the face or what.

He freezes when Fuyumi throws her arms over him, almost knocking Keigo in the process.

“Touya-niii! ” she bursts into more tears. “Why are you… why are you so…? I thought… I thought you… I would've never, ever forgiven myself. Yesterday, I… what I said… I…”

Natsuo puts a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon, you're choking him. At least let him off the bike.”

“Thanks,” Keigo croaks.

Shouto blinks, looking unaffected.

“Morning, Keigo-nii,” he greets him with a bow. “Thanks for taking care of our brother.”

Oh, Touya is definitely going to slap the brat.

Fuyumi pulls away from him. Her face is a mess, all red and contorted. She brings her knuckles to her eyes, her shoulders shivering.

Shouto offers her a handkerchief.

“I’m… I’m sorry”, she hiccups. “I didn't mean…”

The rest of the students walk into the school and look at them with curious eyes, whispering to each other. Why is it that they always make a scene wherever they go? Natsuo and Shouto don't even come to this school.

He sighs and gets off the bike. “’s kay. You never snap at me, so I guess it was about fucking time.”

He’s talking to his sister, but not really. His eyes follow Keigo as the latter brings the bike to the parking lot behind the school. The fucker just slipped away without saying goodbye, as if he didn’t want to get caught in the Todoroki crossfire again.

They tend to do that: explode. Their father’s blood runs through their veins, after all. There must be another way to deal with their emotions and their sibling quarrels, because this isn’t the last one they will have, that’s for sure. But as long as they figure out how to do that, Touya is ready to make up with Fuyumi, if she is too.

He ruffles her hair and ruins her hairstyle—he might not act like one, but he’s still the eldest sibling.

“’s all right, now. And you.” He makes a gesture at his brothers and they flinch. “Shouldn’t you two be going to your own school?”

They see Natsuo and Shouto running down the street before the bell rings.

birb @ touya: how did the talk go? :0

touya @ birb: we made up and shit

touya @ birb: so i guess it went good

birb @ touya: glad to read that :)

touya @ birb: why are you as a man sending me a smiley face?

birb @ touya: ???

birb @ touya: jeez. you’re a handful

touya @ birb:  ;)

Three months later

Keigo doesn’t know what’s the point of enrolling in the hero track if the general curriculum is going to be so hard anyway. He should be working out or training his quirk. Instead, he’s sitting flat on his bum in the library four hours a day.

Guess that’s just how exam period works. Especially now that he’s a third year and is only weeks away from graduation.

He wonders if Touya has it hard in the general education apartment as well. He wishes he could straight-up ask him, but they don’t talk as much as they used to. They don’t share classes, no club activities, and their schedules don’t match. Before Touya tackled him in the locker hallway last summer, they had never run into each other at school. Why would it be any different now?

He could text him, that’s true. But during his last internship, Keigo’s phone fell from the heights as he chased a villain and, more than losing his silly pictures with Rumi, it hurt more to lose Touya’s number.

(Not like he was going to tell her that).

He could get Touya’s number with someone else, that’s also true. He could tell Rumi to ask Fuyumi to give him her brother’s number. They would both laugh and tease him, but he could live with that.

And yet, he hadn’t done so.

What if Keigo writes and Touya doesn’t answer? After all, Touya hasn’t asked for Keigo’s new number either.

Maybe he’s no longer interested. Maybe he was never interested in the first place. He always said he did the fake dating thing for his own benefit, as stupid as that benefit was (pissing his dad off).

He never said he liked Keigo.

(hands brushing, sleeping side by side, arm around his waist, lunches on the rooftop, endless nights texting, kissing in the storage room, kissing and groping in bed, cuddling themselves to sleep, a bike ride early morning, Touya’s arms holding him tightly.)

He doesn’t want to let go of the memories.

He doesn’t think he can handle Touya’s eventual rejection.

For his graduation day, no one comes to see him. 

It’s not like he’s expecting anyone, but he thought someone from the Commission would show up, try to pretend they care about any of this. They don’t, that’s no news. And maybe it’s better this way. Keigo hates feeling observed and in permanent evaluation, and, as the best student in the third year, he has to give speeches, receive awards, smile a lot and bow a lot as well. He’s not in the mood to put up with his handlers on top of it.

So when the ceremony is over and outside the cherry trees shower on the parents waiting to congratulate their children, Keigo slips away.

Or he would have if Touya weren’t waiting for him, somewhat distanced from the rest but still in sight, leaning against a wall and acting like it’s a coincidence that he’s there, but Keigo knows well it’s not. The graduation ceremony for the general course is in two days.

Touya makes a gesture with his head, and Keigo follows him. Everyone else around them, gone.

They don’t go very far. The adjacent courtyard is empty and everyone is too busy with the hero graduation to care about them. Touya leads the way and Keigo walks a couple of meters behind. His heart in his throat, he doesn’t dare to close the distance. 

Touya is wearing his school uniform, jacket and all, and his red hair looks shorter than Keigo remembers, his white roots showing even more than they used to. Just, how long since they last talked? He’s not sure what Touya wants, but he’s sure this is going to be awkward as hell.

It may also be the last time he can talk to Touya before he leaves for Sapporo.

The thought hurts him more than it should.

Then Touya stops and so does Keigo, leaving a meter between them. The trees are laden with green and birds chirp in the distance.

“Well, congratulations on your graduation and all that stuff,” he says after he turns to Keigo. His blue eyes are so transparent that they are unreadable. “Guess you’re happy to call yourself colleagues with Endeavor now.”

Keigo snickers and tries to play it safe. “Hope you didn’t bring me here to talk about your dad.”

“Why not?” he blinks, no smile in sight. “Endeavor was the only thing that made you talk to me back then.”

Oh, shit. Is he angry?

Keigo bites his lower lip. He tries not to lose his temper, but the blame is not on him. Or at least not only on him.

He shoves his fists into his pockets and looks away. “You know that's not true. I mean, it was at first. But then… it wasn't.”

Touya takes a step closer. His eyelashes are so long that they cast shadows on his cheeks. Keigo wishes he could reach out and brush a hand against his face, pull him closer.

He clenches the fists inside his pockets to resist the urge.

“Whatever,” Touya sighs. “I actually brought you here before anyone else could pounce on you.” He lowers his gaze, his fingers fiddling with the buttons in his jacket. Keigo doesn't expect Touya to pull the second button and rip it off the garment. The heck. “I wanted to be the first to give you this.”

Keigo puts both hands together and receives the button, but something doesn't add up. Is this another high school tradition he knows nothing about? He looks at the button and Touya back and forth without finding the answer.

“Huh. Thanks? I guess?”

Touya looks like he wants to smack him.

“You don't know what this means?”

Keigo stares at his hands. 

“I mean… it's a button, isn't it?”

Touya brings a palm to his face and then runs his fingers through his hair, his cheeks slowly growing rosy.

Now Keigo is even more confused than before.

“There’s this tradition during graduation ceremonies… where girls ask their crush for the second button of their school uniforms.” 

Keigo stops breathing. 

Oh. 

So that's what this is about. 

Touya rubs the back of his neck, blue eyes avoiding Keigo.

“But… we're both guys and I'm giving it to you without you asking, so you have to accept it.”

Keigo snorts. That doesn't make any sense.

He curls his fingers around the button. “I’m sorry I didn't text you these past months.”

Touya just shrugs and scratches one leg with the opposite feet.

“I’m sorry I didn't reach out to you in any way.” Keigo continues, regretting all the things that could've been if he'd been brave enough. “I thought you didn't need me anymore.”

“I wish I hadn't needed you,” Touya blurts, eyes pinned to the floor. “But, well, I didn't reach out to you either. I… I thought you forgot about me.”

“How could I?” Keigo moves closer, but Touya still doesn't look at him. “Touya, you were my first kiss, my first… everything.”

“Yea, and I was stupid enough to think it meant something.”

“If it didn't mean anything then why are you giving this to me?” He shows him the button in the center of his palm, so tiny and so disposable, like a heart.

Touya clenches his teeth. “Don’t expect me to make sense of my own feelings.”

He's about to turn away, but before Touya can slip off his fingers again, Keigo grabs his arm and pulls him closer into a tight embrace—one hand plunged in red and white locks, his nose buried in the crook of Touya’s neck.

He breathes in. He doesn't want to forget the way he smelt—like burnt wood and ashes.

All that's left of them are ashes.

“Are you still going to Sapporo?”

Warm. Touya is so warm. Keigo doesn't want to ever let go.

As if Touya could read his mind, he circles his arms around Keigo.

“Are you still going to become a shitty hero?” he counters.

He doesn't want to argue, but that's hard to achieve for them.

“That’s… the only thing I know how to do.”

Touya pulls away slightly, presses his forehead against Keigo’s.

“I guess you're right on that one,” he concedes.

Yellow eyes lower to Touya’s lips. No. They can't kiss. Saying goodbye is hard enough already. He doesn't have to make it harder.

He can't hold back the words on his tongue, though.

“I’ll never feel the same way about anyone.”

Touya sneers. “Yes, you will.”

“No, I won't. I'll never be this young, I'll never be this free, or careless… I'll never be the person I'm with you with anyone else.”

Touya’s mocking smile vanishes little by little, the muscles in his face relaxing before he frowns. He detaches himself from the hug and brings a hand to Keigo’s chest, yanking off the second button of the opposite jacket.

“I take this,” he murmurs, and Keigo would let him take all of him. “I’m not asking. I'm just taking it by force.”

Keigo laughs. “I noticed.”

“Also, if you tell anyone I gave you my button, you're dead to me.”

Keigo keeps laughing. “Roger that.”

He laughs as Touya walks away, waving a hand in the air. 

He laughs as he is left alone.

He laughs as he crunches down and curls up into a ball, arms hugging his legs.

He laughs until he starts crying.

Dabi is always giving new reasons for wearing a necklace with a button hanging from it. Toga, the drummer in his band, always asks, and he likes to mess with her. He doesn't like his life being on display, unlike Toga and Twice, who tell their life to anyone who will listen (and to those who won't as well). There's a reason why he changed his name and moved to the other side of the country—he wanted to leave it all behind.

God knows how much he tried to leave that button behind, but alas, he couldn't. 

So he carries it around with him, maybe to remind himself that he's an idiot.

He's tuning his bass in the rehearsal room while they wait for Spinner and Mr. Compress, but it's hard to concentrate when Toga is watching reels on her phone with the sound on. 

Loud music, news, loud music, makeup tutorial, loud music, the latest hero gossips. Dabi wishes he could throw her phone out of the window. Is he the only one bothered with the noise? Because Shigaraki looks as cool as a cucumber playing on his keyboard.

Like he cares. He's going to tell her.

“Can you turn—”

But then, Toga gaps and jumps off the couch.

“Look, Dabi-kun!” She presses her phone against Dabi’s face. He's going to roast her. “Hawks has the same necklace as you do!”

He blinks and pushes the screen away, trying to adjust his eyes to the image on the phone. A blurry footage shows Hawks, the hero, with his clothes in tatters after an accident. He's helping to rescue civilians, but the camera zooms in to his abs and his cleavage (Dabi arches an eyebrow), focusing on the necklace he's wearing. 

The poor quality video repeats over and over again, while white letters pop up and read "Why does Hawks wear that necklace? We want to hear your craziest theories".

Dabi shoots Toga a flat stare. “What’s this crap?”

“My gossip hero!” she beams, her smile so wide her canines show. “They always have dirty laundry on heroes. This time, it was Hawks’ turns.” She pulls her phone back to herself and starts scrolling down the comment section. “What daya think it is?”

Dabi brings a hand to his own necklace and fiddles with the button. A warm sensation that nothing has to do with his quirk coiling in his stomach.

“Who knows…”

Shigaraki snorts from the other side of the room. “Now you're gonna tell you were together with Hawks and have matching necklaces?”

Dabi chuckles, playing with the button on his fingers. If they only knew.

“Well, maybe I did, yeah…”