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Frustratingly enough, Hakodate’s restaurant scene was as unimpressive as Shoto would have expected it to be. Usually, this wouldn’t have been an issue. Shoto didn’t eat food— he had no use for it. The only reason it had been so frustrating was because he had Midoriya with him in the passenger seat of his car. And Midoriya actually did eat food— not only ate it, but needed it to survive.
Shoto could hear his stomach beginning to gurgle hollowly, and firmly decided to himself that the next restaurant they drove by would be where they stopped to eat. He hated being so spontaneous, but Midoriya was hungry, and Shoto was just being selfish.
He’d wanted to try and impress him a little by taking him someplace worthwhile. This was their first unofficial date— Midoriya would hopefully remember this as an almost date, too— Shoto would have liked for it to be somewhat special.
Hopefully, this wouldn’t be his one and only chance to impress him. He tried not to dwell too much on the future. He had Ochako for that, anyhow.
Shoto pulled into the parking lot of a family owned Korean barbecue place. The protein and salt would do Midoriya some good.
Shoto subtly inhaled a breath through his teeth. Midoriya’s heady scent had permeated the close proximity in which they were sharing. His throat and chest scorched , but he was managing far better than he imagined he would. The burn was getting easier to manage— much easier.
“Do you like Korean food?” Shoto asked. He’d gone through all that internal suffering just to ask a simple question. If Midoriya’s answer was no, he’d find a restaurant more suitable to his tastes. He didn’t mind being his personal chauffeur.
From the passenger seat, and still draped in Shoto’s leather jacket, Midoriya shrugged timidly. “I could.”
He didn’t want to create any more hassle for the evening. He was settling for what he thought would be the easiest option for Shoto. Those were only guesses— he could never know for sure what Midoriya was thinking. He’d been getting better at reading his body language, as that was all he had to go off of— he supposed that’s what made Midoriya all the more intriguing. Him— with his addictive scent and silent mind. Of course it was him.
“All right, then.” Shoto nodded. He wouldn’t push Midoriya to change his mind. His mission now was to get him fed. “Don’t open your door.”
He could have been at his side of the car in half a second— but Shoto was, for all intents and purposes, human. And humans did not move that fast. Midoriya was wary about him enough, as it was. He didn’t need another reason, on top of the dozen others he had, to suspect him of being anything but human— he’d already shared his theories with him the other week during lunch.
He hadn’t guessed vampire at all.
Midoriya blinked, then nodded, his dark green eyes clear enough for him to see the confusion swimming in them. It seemed Midoriya was not used to chivalry. Shoto would change that.
He slid out of his seat, shutting his door as gently as he could, before manually taking slow, human steps towards Midoriya’s door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open for him.
It took up until that moment, it seemed, for Midoriya to realize what he was doing. His face flushed a delicious shade of pink. Shoto inhaled another quiet breath through his teeth— his scent much more potent than before, when they had been in an inclosed space together.
Now, Shoto was standing outside, and still, with about a dozen different scents hitting him at once, Shoto’s throat and stomach scorched with the worst heat he’d experienced yet— Midoriya’s blood was that much more appealing to him than the rest.
“Oh, um, thank you.” Midoriya said, stepping out of the vehicle, and suddenly picking at the jacket that hung around his shoulders. He looked to Shoto, his cheeks still stained that delicate shade of pink. “D-Did, um, did you want your jacket back?”
Absolutely not. It looked so much better on Midoriya than it ever did on him. And besides, a jacket with his scent rubbed into the fibers of it would undoubtedly be his undoing. He couldn’t take it— even if he did want it back.
“No, you keep it. You look cold.” Midoriya was obviously still not accustomed to how dreary and wet Hokkaido was. It frustrated Shoto to no end to have to watch him suffer all day at school because any sweater he owned couldn’t keep him warm enough.
Shoto nudged his head towards the entrance of the restaurant, watching Midoriya expectantly.
“Oh, right.” He mumbled, stepping beside him. This was the closest they’d been since Shoto stopped him from nearly being crushed by Togata Mirio’s van in the school parking lot. “Lead the way.”
Shoto didn’t have to force the smile that made its way onto his face. In front of humans, his facial expressions were always calculated and planned. Smile when speaking about this, frown thoughtfully when listening to that . It was tedious as much as it was annoying.
But with Midoriya, Shoto never had to fake anything. He allowed himself the freedom of expression— and he meant real freedom. Any reaction Midoriya pulled out of him was as genuine as he would ever get. In other terms, he was, mostly, himself around Midoriya. And he supposed that was just another reason why he found him so utterly enrapturing.
Shoto held the door open for the both of them, allowing Midoriya to step in front of him— to which he muttered a quiet thanks in return.There was a slight tremor in his voice. He seemed… shyer than usual. Or, perhaps, he was anxious to get food in his belly. Regardless, Shoto had picked up on the mood shift, and now he was feeling antsy about getting them a table.
He’d use his dazzle if he had to, he was feeding Midoriya one way or another.
The host at the entrance of the restaurant eyed the both of them dubiously— though his eyes dragged up and down Shoto’s form very conspicuously.
“Welcome to Seoul Garden Korean Barbecue, where we bring Korea to you. How may I help you this evening?”
Woah, he’s cute.
Shoto could and would use that against him. He wouldn’t have to try— and he didn’t want to either, after all, he was there with Midoriya.
“Good evening,” He glanced down at the name tag pinned above the breast pocket on his shirt. “Haruto. I’d like a table for two, please.”
Damn, even his voice is sexy.
Midoriya shifted beside him slightly, and Haruto’s eyes tracked the movement closely— his face not betraying his snide thoughts.
And who is this? His date? There’s just no way. He’s so frumpy looking!
And just like that, any pleasantries he would spare Haruto went out the metaphorical window. Insulting Midoriya— even if it were all in his head— was intolerable and Shoto wouldn’t stand for it.
He dropped the dazzle and replaced it with a natural scowl. Haruto seemed to freeze, eyes widening a fraction.
Oh, shit. It’s like he heard me. Imagine if he could mind read? I’d be screwed.
Shoto did not have the patience to mull over the irony of his thoughts. He gritted his teeth, inhaling another quick breath, before opening his mouth to speak again.
“I’d like a table for two, please. ” He repeated icily, less polite than before. Midoriya seemed to notice his attitude change— but then again, what didn’t Midoriya notice?
Needless to say, Haruto got them a table and had a waitress hand them a pair of menus.
Oh, wow.
The waitress’ inner monologue droned. Shoto could feel her looking at him, inadvertently ignoring the other presence at the table. He would never understand what humans found so appealing about him. He never usually would have found the attention so annoying, but it was different now. Midoriya was with him, the definition of beauty, and not one person spared him a glance. The service at this restaurant was awful— and he would be leaving a nasty review later.
“Have you boys ever eaten Korean barbecue before?” The waitress, Tsuki, set aside her notepad for a moment, looking down at them with an, what Shoto was assuming to be, attractive smile.
Surprisingly enough, Midoriya was the first to speak.
“Um, only once, but it was a long time ago.”
Shoto couldn’t help but wonder how long ago it was exactly. To a human, a year or two was a long time, but to Shoto’s kind, it felt closer to a few months. He liked that Midoriya was so endearingly human in the most mundane ways possible.
“And what about you, handsome?”
Instantly, his mood soured. Midoriya’s breath caught on the last word, and Shoto felt like his head would explode. This was not how he wanted the evening to go. In his annoyance, and just because he wanted to, Shoto kept his eyes transfixed on Midoriya whilst he answered her.
“I’ve had it often. Now, if you could take our orders.” He sounded testy, but he couldn’t help it. What was worse was that she didn’t seem to mind it, either.
I love a challenge!
Shoto suppressed an eye roll.
“Of course. What would you two like?”
Shoto ordered the pair of them the most generic cuts of meat and side dishes. He’d lied about having Korean barbecue earlier— he hasn't eaten human food in decades. But he’d heard about Korean barbecue before—so he at least knew what was popular amongst the average human.
Then again, Midoriya was anything but average. He could hate everything Shoto picked, and this first unofficial date would officially be a disaster.
However, he felt he knew Midoriya better than that. He wouldn’t complain about the food. Shoto was going to have to pry it out of him, if he did.
Their waitress left, their order scrawled in her notepad before making her way towards the kitchen. Shoto was glad to finally be alone with Midoriya.
It was getting easier to breathe in his scent. It still scorched, absolutely, but being able to sit with him at a table like this was worth the suffering. He hated that he secretly hoped this wouldn’t be the last time they did something like this together— under different circumstances.
“Have you eaten here before, Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya’s soft but clear voice spoke from beside him. He shifted his body in his direction— he seemed curious. If he was going to be curious, it was going to be tonight. “The people here seem to… know you.”
Once again, Shoto smiled. He wondered, not for the first time, what he was thinking. He would always wonder that.
“Not to this particular restaurant.” Shoto hasn’t frequented a restaurant in years. “I suppose the staff here are just friendly.” He’d hoped to emphasize that last word.
Midoriya hugged his arms around himself, the leather fabric around his shoulders squeaking with the movement. His face was still so pale, and there were bags underneath his swollen eyes that didn’t belong there. Shoto anxiously urged their waitress to move faster.
He wanted to feel the warmth of his forehead— to check the pulse points on his body just to make sure his heart was still beating at a regular pace. He could hear it— and it sounded fine. Feeling it underneath his fingertips would undoubtedly put him at ease. But he knew how ice cold he was— how disgusted Midoriya would be if he felt his touch.
"How are you feeling?" He asked instead, to distract himself from the warmth of his skin. He could feel the heat radiating off him from where he sat.
Midoriya turned to him, his mouth wobbling as his lips parted to answer. "I'm fine." He didn't like when people worried about him. This wouldn't be the first time he's lied about his health before. He had such a backwards martyr complex— attention being the last thing he'd ever want. "Please, don't worry about me, Todoroki-kun."
Shoto huffed an incredulous chuckle. If only it were that easy. He never made it that easy. Tonight only proved his point.
Midoriya's cheeks flushed pink again. Shoto's throat and stomach flexed uncomfortably. "I-Is something funny?"
"Your need to seem fine all the time." He called his bluff. Midoriya did not take the accusation lightly, the space between his eyebrows puckering in defiance. "You don't have to pretend with me, Midoriya. Especially not tonight."
Regardless of how carefully he’d chosen his words, Midoriya shrugged as if he knew nothing of the subject. Shoto smiled fondly at his petulance, a teasing lilt had lopsided it a little when he realized Midoriya was pointedly looking away from him— as if he knew he'd be caught in his lie if he looked at him again.
Their waitress dropped their food off at their table, a plate of thinly sliced raw brisket and pork belly, and a few Korean side dishes that went perfectly with the meat he picked. Shoto clicked the small stove on, and got to cooking as quickly as he possibly could. Every cooked piece of meat went onto Midoriya’s plate— and he ate it without question.
Shoto frowned at this. He must have been so hungry. And yet, he hadn’t said a word. He suffered in silence. He supposed they had that in common.
After about ten minutes of silent cooking and eating, Midoriya’s chopsticks paused on a piece of meat. He suddenly looked directly at Shoto— cheeks flushed pink again. Shoto glanced back at him without hesitation, silently questioning him.
Midoriya swallowed whatever was in his mouth. “You’re not— you’re not eating.”
Shit.
It was usually expected that when two people went out to dinner, that both parties enjoyed the meal together.
The only problem was, Shoto did not eat. Ever.
“I’m on a special diet.” He lied, and he hated it.
Midoriya frowned, eyeing the meat Shoto was searing on the stove. “I-I can’t eat all of that. I think this place makes you pay more for the meat you don’t finish. Please , eat something.”
Ah. It wasn’t that he was suspicious of the fact that he wasn't eating. He was worried about how they would cover the bill. How utterly endearing— and unnecessary. Shoto had enough money in his bank to pay for everyone in the restaurant– he wouldn't, of course, that was just to put things into perspective.
“Midoriya, I’m paying for dinner. You don’t have to worry about that. I brought you here to eat. So, eat.”
Midoriya looked conflicted. “But— wh-why—?” He broke off into a frustrated sigh, suddenly looking done with his food.
Shoto desperately wished he knew what was going on inside his head. “Why what? Talk to me.” It sounded too much like a demand. “Please.”
“Why are you doing all this?” He blurted, and from the way his mouth twitched, it looked like he planned on continuing. “Why do your eyes change color? Why are you so mean to me one day, and insist on buying me dinner the next? Why— why were you there tonight?”
Ah.
With the food and sugar in his body, Midoriya was finally able to think rationally again.The shock rattled into his being seemed to have worn off— his lips were bright pink, and his cheeks retained some of their natural color again. All of his questions were reasonable. Why was Shoto there tonight? What drove him to do half of the idiotic things he did when it came to Midoriya? The answers were plainly obvious to himself— but he couldn’t tell Midoriya what he wanted to hear. Not yet, anyway.
He didn’t look angry whilst he spewed his questions at him. He looked… desperate. For what, Shoto did not know. For the truth— but which part?
“You can… you can trust me, you know.” He pleaded, his eyes glowering down at his empty plate. "I want you to trust me, Todoroki-kun."
Shoto could feel his mood dampening as they strayed between topics. He’d changed the subject, but he knew it would only serve to make Midoriya more upset than he already was. The last thing he wanted was for him to hate Shoto.
“I don’t know if I have a choice anymore.” He muttered darkly. Was he doing this? Was he really choosing this path? For once, he wished Ochako was with him to show him his future— to see for himself if this was the right thing to do for now.
Midoriya shifted in his seat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t know anything, Midoriya.” It’d slipped out without him meaning to. He’d said something similar to him at the hospital— after the accident.
He turned to him, an apology on the tip of his tongue. Midoriya’s face was bright red— with anger or embarrassment, he was unsure. He wasn’t happy .
“You’re being mean, again.” He mumbled, almost petulantly. He was definitely angry. But his anger was so… quiet. Compared to how unpredictable, and loud Shoto got whenever he was angry, Midoriya’s rage was so… timid. And cute, like a kitten trying to imitate the roar of a lion.
Shoto chuckled at the comparison he’d made in his head. Midoriya’s head whipped in his direction, his face flushing a brighter red. Shoto bit the inside of his lips.
“A-And now you’re laughing at me. Thanks.” He grumbled, his shoulders hunching further.
Shoto realized how rude he was being, sobering up immediately. He wouldn’t say he was sorry— although maybe he should. Midoriya didn’t seem to want an apology, though. He wanted some part of the truth— that would make him happy, to know Shoto trusted him with one of his secrets.
Shoto sighed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.
“I can… read minds.” He said it slowly, and under his breath, but just loud enough for Midoriya to hear.
He did. He must have, based on the look of shock passing over his face. He stared at Shoto for a moment, before his cheeks flushed pink again. The reaction was odd.
“Are you— are you trying to be funny?” Midoriya accused gently, his face twisting into a small scowl.
Shoto frowned. What did that mean? “I’m serious.”
Midoriya exhaled a vague mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Y-You could have just said nothing, you know. You don’t have to make fun of me.”
What ?
Shoto struggled to find the right words to placate him. The first time he was being unequivocally honest with him— and he didn’t believe him? Midoriya did not meet his expectations at all. And now he looked ready to leave— the table, the restaurant— him . Shoto couldn’t have that.
“Earlier, you asked me what I was doing in Hakodate.” Shoto began, desperately wanting to grab Midoriya’s hand and keep him from leaving. Midoriya eyed him dubiously, his breathing uneven, before nodding stiffly. “I followed you here. I couldn’t trust that you would be safe without me watching out for you, and I was right.” Shoto was scared to stop talking. He was scared of his reaction. At any moment, the unusual calm Midoriya maintained around him could shatter, and he could burst into hysterics. It only urged him to speak faster. “I’ve never tried to keep a specific person alive before and it’s much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that’s probably because it’s you. You’re like a magnet for trouble.” He watched, waiting for his reaction.
Midoriya was still frustratingly calm. Then he smiled. A small, uneasy smile. Shoto had just fully admitted to stalking him, and he was… smiling.
“Did you ever think I was just… supposed to die the day you saved me from Togata-sempai’s van? And that maybe you’re just interfering with fate?”
Shoto grimaced at those words— die and fate. “Midoriya, your number was up the moment we first met.”
He hoped his words would finally scare him into hearing the truth behind them. Shoto had meant that. Midoriya’s life was over the moment they met. They shouldn’t be having dinner on a chilly Friday night. Midoriya shouldn’t be wearing his jacket. Shoto shouldn’t be telling him any of this. And yet, he was. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. There was always a choice— it was only the matter of choosing right from wrong.
Midoriya was very quiet for a moment. His breathing had accelerated the smallest bit. Shoto looked at him, full of shame, and prepared to face the fear that must be present on his face. But instead of fear, there was… concern.
Shoto plowed forward. “Do you remember that day?” How could he forget?
Midoriya nodded, his dark green eyes filled with clarity and awareness. He knew . He knew how close he’d been to killing him that day, and all he could do was nod. Where were the screams?
“And yet, here you sit.” He pointed that out to him— that he was sitting with his potential murderer, enjoying a meal with him.
“Yes.” Midoriya nodded again, tracing his plate with his eyes. He looked up, suddenly appearing curious. “Because you protected me. Because somehow you knew how to find me today…?” The subject change was extremely unsubtle.
It didn’t make any sense. Shoto, once again, tried fruitlessly to break through the barrier that protected his thoughts. How could Midoriya care about anything else after what he’d just told him? How could he continue to sit beside him— as if he weren’t a danger to his life?
Midoriya only watched him, curious and anticipating his answer. Shoto sighed, frustrated at his lack of self preservation. Though, he supposed he owed him the answer he was looking for, just this once. This he could be honest about.
“It’s harder than it should be— keeping track of you. I don’t usually have trouble finding someone once I’ve heard their mind before.”
Shoto watched his expression closely as he said this. He’d tried telling him this truth earlier, and he hadn’t believed him. Now though, Midoriya’s eyes were wide, and the color drained slightly from his cheeks. Shoto waited for his panic, but it never came. Not outwardly, at least.
He continued. “I was keeping tabs on Shinso and Kaminari from afar. I hadn’t noticed when you left at first. I couldn’t see you in either of their thoughts. That’s when I realized you’d gone off on your own without telling them where you were going. Never do that again.” He couldn’t help but slip that in. He remembered the panic he’d felt when he couldn’t find him, and his breaths came to him in quick pants. His throat scorched, and instantly he felt relieved. So long as he burned, Midoriya was alive and safe. “I looked for you in the thoughts of people on the street, to see if anyone had noticed you. I didn’t really have a reason to be so… worried.”
That uncomfortable feeling of anxiety gnawed at the lining of his solid stomach, even now. Midoriya had really given him a scare— he had no idea.
“I started driving in circles, just listening.” He hoped that word made sense in the context it was being used in. “The sun was beginning to set, and I was going to park my car and follow you on foot. And then…” He trailed off, swallowing down the cold fury that suddenly swelled in his chest and throat.
The memory was still vivid in his mind. He was murderous— he wanted to put these urges into action. He wanted all three of them, the woman and her henchmen, dead. He needed them dead. Shoto grinded his teeth, concentrating on staying in his seat. Midoriya still needed him— he was all that mattered now.
“Then what?” Midoriya prompted in a whisper, his dark eyes wide.
“I heard what they were thinking.” He spoke through his teeth, too angry for his words to come out softer than a growl. “I saw your face in her mind.”
He remembered it, even now. How petrified he looked, crying and pleading for his life. His first instinct had been to kill— to obliterate them until they were nothing. The thought still lingered. He knew where to find them— he couldn’t believe he’d just let them get away with harassing him— his Midoriya.
Shoto turned his face away from him for a moment. He knew what he must look like— a monster. A killer, who even now, was plotting a triple murder in his head. He inhaled Midoriya’s scent, embracing the scorch. He put his image at the focal point of his own mind— focusing only on his face. The soft contours of his face, the dark emerald shade of his eyes, the curve of his plump lips, his pretty tanned skin, and how it stretched over his delicate bones.
Shoto tried to explain his violent tendencies so that he would understand.
“It was very hard– it’ll be difficult for you to understand how hard, for me to simply take you away, and leave them alive.” He whispered down to the table, afraid for Midoriya’s reaction. Though, every time he’d been afraid before, he had no reason to be. “I could have let you leave with Shinso and Kaminari, but I was afraid if you’d left me alone, I would go looking for them.”
That was the second time he’d admitted to an almost-murder. He listened for Midoriya’s heartbeat– how irregular it was. His breathing too, and how uneven it sounded. He was quiet whilst Shoto tried to maintain his composure. He was too close to the edge– he needed to get Midoriya home. But then, he didn’t necessarily trust himself to not track down the trio of potential kidnappers, and kill them himself once he was alone. He didn’t want to become a murderer again– not when he’d finally gotten Midoriya’s trust. But there was no viable way to stop him– not that he knew of.
What he did know was that he wanted to get Midoriya home. It was late enough as it was– he doubted Midoriya’s father would appreciate his only offspring being out so late in an unsafe city. At any rate, Midoriya must have had enough truth for one night. He looked a little pale, but his face remained composed.
“Are you ready to go home?” Shoto asked, pulling out his wallet and rifling through a few bills before placing the yen on the tabletop. It’d be enough to cover more than what they owed.
Midoriya eyed the bills, his face suddenly crumpling. “Todoroki-kun, I-I’ll pay you back. I promise.”
“I won’t let you. This was my treat.” He smiled gently, the mood lifting slightly. He liked the way his name sounded in Midoriya’s voice. “Are you ready to head home?” He repeated his earlier question.
Midoriya hummed, his mouth twisting. “I’m ready to leave.” He said, choosing his words carefully. As if saying yes wouldn’t express what he really wanted to say.
Frustrating.
The pair of them stood from their table, and Shoto extended an elbow towards him. He was really, really pushing his luck with this. But he’d only offered his arm because he knew his jacket was thick enough to act as a barrier between their polar opposite skin temperatures. Midoriya wouldn’t feel a thing– hopefully. And maybe, Shoto wanted to keep him as close as possible– so afraid that he’d get hurt, even with him so near. Shoto grimaced. Especially with him so near.
Midoriya took his arm with a tiny sigh, his cheeks flushing pink. Breathe and burn, breathe and burn. His fingers wrapped firmly around the crook of his elbow, the pressure was reassuring.
Shoto led them back towards his car, hyper aware of how close they were to one another. Midoriya was practically pressed against him, somehow stepping closer once they’d stepped out of the restaurant. The night was chilly, and he had an aversion to the cold. Not for the first time, Shoto wished he ran warm.
Midoriya let go of his arm when they’d reached his car. Shoto tried to hide his disappointment. He wished they could stay together all night. He was still so afraid of anything and everything happening to him while he wasn't there to protect him. But, for once, Shoto had something to keep him busy for a few hours. He had to put his paranoia away just for the evening.
Shoto held open the car door for him, and Midoriya muttered a timid thanks before slipping in. Shoto didn’t bother going as slowly as he did at the beginning of the evening. He did, however, go around the back, so that he could maintain some of his mystique. For now.
Shoto entered through the driver's side, and immediately blasted the heat. The car was cold– it must have been uncomfortable for him. Midoriya huddled into his jacket, a small smile playing at his lips. At the image, a sudden wave of possessiveness hit him like a ram at full speed.
"I want you to keep my jacket." He said, without hesitation.
Midoriya blinked at him sideways, still huddled underneath all the extra fabric. "A-Are you sure? It seems expensive." He didn’t look to be rejecting the offer.
Shoto hummed, pleased. "I want you to wear it at school." So that everyone knows exactly who you belong to. He couldn't say that. Not out loud— not yet. "None of your jackets are warm enough for this weather."
Midoriya's eyes seemed distant for a quick moment, and Shoto, not for the first time, wished he knew what he was thinking. Suddenly, freckled cheeks flushed pink. Shoto was burning, but he didn’t mind it. Not at all.
"Thank you, Todoroki-kun."
Shoto smiled and pulled out of his parking spot, following the road back to Hokkaido; burning the entire way.