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“Alright, listen up.” Aizawa sighed from his podium. Shoto’s hand paused halfway into reaching for a second flash card from the deck that sat between him and Momo. “Since I know most of you are overachieving no-lives, I wanted to extend this same opportunity to the rest of my classes as well.”
He held up a lone blank sheet. “There are firefighters in training that are in need of some volunteers who are willing to be manhandled if necessary. Now it’s not mandatory, but since I was a med student once, I know exactly how you vultures think.” Aizawa sighed, and placed the sheet on his podium. “So, I’m making this extra credit.”
Whatever Aizawa said after that was practically gibberish. Shoto was standing in front of his podium no less than five seconds later, signing his and Momo’s names under the roster.
“Didn’t we just prove his point?” Momo wondered out loud to him after class had been let out for the day. They’d mutually agreed beforehand that they’d stop by the campus cafe and grab something to eat before their next class; organic chemistry– fun . “I mean, only volunteering for the extra credit. Doesn’t that make us sort of evil?”
Shoto shrugged, mindlessly sipping on the hot cup of coffee he’d specifically ordered with as much caffeine as the shop allowed. “Med students are inherently evil.” Then paused. “But either way, nobody is making us volunteer. We decided on our own free will.”
“For the extra credit.” Momo reminded, pointing her fork at him.
Shoto pulled a face at her insistence. “They get their volunteers, we get our extra credit. I don’t see the problem.”
“So, it’s a win-win situation is what you’re saying.”
“Precisely.” He blinked, then cast her a judgmental glance. “Is that what you wanted? Validation for your own selfish decisions?”
“Yup.” She hummed, playfully nudging him in his side when he sent her an annoyed look. “I’m joking. Kind of. You can’t be a bad person working in the medical field, that’s just contradictory.”
“My father is a walking contradiction, then.”
Momo groaned at the mention of the world renowned Cardiothoracic surgeon, Doctor Todoroki Enji. The sound of resentment at the mention of his father never failed to make Shoto crack a small smile. It was nice to know that he’d passed his dislike for his father down to his friend.
“ Besides him.” She gruffed.
“Yes, yes, I know what you mean.” Shoto nodded, easing on the banter. “You know I feel the same way.”
“Good.” Momo sighed, swallowing down another forkful of chocolate cake. “Besides… this volunteering thing could also be a good way for you to… mingle , if you know what I mean. I hear firefighters are supposed to be, like, hot or something.”
Shoto exhaled a sharp sigh, already put off from the rest of the conversation. “Do not start with this again.”
Momo bemoaned. “Shoto, come on , you haven’t left your dorm for anything but class and food since the semester started. You can’t keep living like this, I won’t stand back and watch you wither away.”
“Momo, we are in the same major– we have the same workload , you know why I don’t leave my room for anything other than class and food.” Shoto sighed. “I don’t even have time to shower sometimes . ” He enunciated pathetically.
Momo grimaced teasingly. “Maybe don’t say that so loud.”
“Oh, shut up, I was being dramatic.” Shoto huffed, sipping on his coffee briefly. “I showered this morning.”
“Stop trying to change the subject.” Momo accused. “I don’t want to hear about your shower habits. I want to see you happy and in love.”
Shoto appraised her with an incredulous look. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”
“ Yes , I have.” Momo rolled her eyes, shrugging a little. “And I think it’s going to bite you right in the butt. You will eat your words, Shoto, just watch.”
Shoto’s lips spread thin across face. “Not all of us are as lucky as you and Jiro. Normal people stay single until they’re like, twenty-five.”
Momo deadpanned at him. “That’s literally not true at all. But fine! I’m just trying to help. I only want what I think is best for you.”
“And you think a man is what’s best for me right now? Are you serious?”
“Look, I know I’m a lesbian, but I know men can be… cool sometimes. You need a cool guy in your life to spice things up!”
“That’s, like, the last thing I need.” Shoto took a longer sip from his cooled coffee. “I’m done with this conversation now.”
Momo deflated, pouting. “Fine. But you’ll see Shoto. You’re going to find yourself the cutest, coolest guy, and you’re going to think back to this conversation, and be like, wow, I should’ve listened to my best friend Yaoyorozu Momo.”
“I won’t, actually, because that isn’t going to happen. But I seriously appreciate your optimism.”
The conversation inevitably drifted onto other topics— summer plans, dinner plans. Shoto wasn’t as present as he was making himself out to be. He was engaging, but he was still sort of stuck on their earlier conversation. Dating, and romance— his nonexistent love life.
He’s been single for… basically his entire life. He has no experience in flirting, or dating— or romance. Shoto was completely helpless— he could name every bone in the human body, but tell him to ask for a guy's number and he’d flub the entire thing.
It didn’t really matter, anyway. Momo had just gotten into his head a little. There was no cute, cool, firefighter guy— certainly not one who’d be interested in Shoto.
With that in mind, he threw the half-concern to the back of his mind, and finished his coffee. It was lukewarm.
The volunteer exercise was the following Saturday. It was early in the morning, which was kind of annoying because Saturday’s were Shoto’s only day off from classes. But he was already up, and somewhat decently dressed— it was too late to back out now.
Momo was annoyingly chirpy on their walk to the station. She seemed to notice his sour mood halfway into the trip, and offered to pay for his coffee afterwards. Caffeine would always be the answer to any of his problems.
Finally, they actually arrived at the station. It looked fairly new, and had the number four plastered on the front of it. Also, impressively enough for the fact that he’s never seen one up close before, there was a firetruck sticking out of its driveway, glinting a violent shade of red.
“How do we even get inside?” Momo wondered out loud, shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand. An unsuspecting firefighter walked out of the building not even a second later, holding rubber mats under his arms. “Oh, you! Yes, hello!”
The look on his face was what one would describe as petrified. Momo approached him, and Shoto followed closely behind her, not wanting to frighten (?) him further.
“H-Hello. I’m Amajiki Tamaki. What c-can I help you two with today?” The man spoke, the sentence obviously practiced in the robotic manner he said it in. Shoto understood the anxiety— he used to be the same way just a few years ago. Maybe not as severe, however.
“Yes, Amajiki-san, we’re looking for the volunteer exercise? You know, the manhandling and what not.”
Amajiki blinked, his face lifting at Momo’s words. “Oh, okay. Um, follow me.” The man began walking towards a side entrance— a gate that seemed to lead behind the building. “Everyone’s back here. W-We’re just setting up right now. Is that o-okay?”
He was asking them?
“That’s plenty fine, thank you, Amajiki-san.” Momo smiled pleasantly, and allowed Amajiki to lead them through the gate with a slight tremble in his steps as he did so— mumbling something under his breath.
She turned to Shoto once the firefighter was sure to be out of earshot. “He’s cute! What do you think of him?”
Shoto felt almost appalled at this. “Momo, stop it .” He practically hissed, eyeing the back of Amajiki’s head to make sure he wasn’t hearing any of this.
“Oh, come on, Shoto. Just give me your honest opinion. Is he your type? ‘Cause, if he is, I know at least three different guys like that at school.”
“Momo,” He breathed, almost pleading. “ Please . Enough of this. If I find someone attractive, I promise to let you know.”
Momo was actually silent for a moment. And then ruined the silence promptly after.
“So, he isn’t your type. That’s all you had to say.”
Shoto felt his eyes physically roll to the back of his head. She was simultaneously the best, and worst person he knew.
“O-Okay, so um, yeah— just… maybe, you two should talk to Toshinori-san before we get started. The big, b-blond guy over there. He’s nice.” Amajiki said once they’d fully made it to the back of the building— which was actually much nicer than Shoto was expecting it to be.
It was a grassy, gated area, not too big, but big enough for an exercise. There wasn’t much of anything else— just a bunch of men standing around, dressed head to toe in fireman gear. And there were also the other volunteers, a handful of other young-looking college students, and a few average-joe’s looking to lend a hand to the community.
He and Momo approached Toshinori, as Amajiki had suggested they did, and Shoto was actually surprised at how much bigger he was up close. He was probably as big as his father— height and width so eerily similar it was almost weird.
The only major difference was that Enji would have met the pair of them with a glare. Whereas Toshinori downright grinned at them with a level of brightness that was almost uncanny.
“Hello, there! You must be our last two volunteers— Todoroki-kun, and Yaoyorzu-san!”
“Yes, that is us!” Momo met his enthusiasm with even more enthusiasm, and Shoto felt on the verge of a headache just then.
“Well, it is certainly very nice to meet the two of you! Before the exercise begins, I must ask, you’re both fine with being carried and/or carried, correct?”
“Yes, sir, that’s why we’re here today.” Momo smiled, and Shoto nodded his own consent.
“Fantastic!” Toshinori grinned, his hands on his hips, all hero-like. “Then we can finally get started. Here are your folders.” He handed them a pair of manila folders. “These contain information about your fake injuries. How your assigned fireman will assess the situation is entirely up to them.”
Shoto opened his folder while the older man continued talking.
Name: Kaji Yuki
Sex: M
Age: 20
Injury: A broken right wrist and right elbow. Inhalation ( early onset ARDS).
Assigned fireman: Midoriya Izuku
Well, it was a good thing Shoto was a medical student, otherwise he wouldn’t have known how to fake inhalation. He looked away from his folder, and towards the line of firemen talking amongst each other, trying to find a Midoriya Izuku amongst the lineup— but to no avail. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, anyway. A name tag, maybe.
“Alright, you two can head to your places.” Toshinori said, and then called the attention of the entire group.
He spoke some more while Momo and Shoto found their spots.
“This is kind of fun. Like acting.” Momo snorted. “I have a broken left foot. What about you?”
Shoto smiled a little at that. “Broken right wrist and elbow. And early onset ARDS.”
“Oh, wow. You got it so bad.”
“Very.”
“Alright, are the volunteers ready?!” Toshinori was now speaking to them. A few answered back, most were silent. That did not deter his enthusiasm at all. “Okay, then! And remember, this is not a competition. Have fun, but most of all, do it right the first time!” That was surely directed at the firemen, who seemed to be shoving at each other already.
Now Shoto was sort of afraid.
“On your marks… get set… go !” Toshinori briefly blew on a whistle, and a wall of twenty or so firemen began jetting directly at him.
Shoto… sort of felt like he may die.
A few firemen fumbled with his folder at first, reading it over, and then cursing when, Shoto assumed, they realized it wasn’t assigned to them. Some of them actually made the effort to console him, it’s alright, help is on the way , others were just plain rude.
And then, finally, after three failed attempts, Shoto’s fireman found him. Midoriya Izuku, if he remembered correctly.
“Oh, hey, this one’s mine!” The man spluttered, maybe grinning behind his huge mask. Shoto couldn’t quite see him well enough to confirm this. “Okay, um, don’t worry, sir, I’m here to help. What’s hurting you?”
Shoto got into character. Or, he tried.
“I think my wrist and elbow are broken.” He laid flat on his back, his arm limp at his side, and then coughed a little. “And my throat is burning.”
Midoriya was reading the folder again as he relayed his injuries to him. “O-Okay! Broken right wrist and elbow— and early ARDS. Okay . First, I’ll give you my mask to help you breathe better, alright?” Midoriya pulled off his mask, and Shoto fully stopped breathing.
Midoriya was… absolutely gorgeous. Why was he gorgeous ? Freckles, and a cute nose, and really full lips— and freckles ? And green eyes— holy hell, he couldn’t do this. He might’ve actually been suffering a very real medical emergency, and there he was gaping like a fish out of water.
Shoto swallowed thickly. “I-I think— um,”
“Shh, don’t talk. Your throat isn’t in the best state right now, sir.” Midoriya put his finger to his lips , and held his head off the ground. It was so gentle— almost unlike a fireman. “The mask should help you breathe in some fresh air. And your wrist and elbow are broken….” He trailed off, and Shoto was absolutely on the verge of storming off and hiding in a bush. “Okay, I’m going to fireman carry you to safety. Paramedics will further examine your injuries once you’re safe.”
Fireman… carry?
“W-Wait, I don’t think—“
“Sir, do I need to administer mouth to mouth?” Midoriya abruptly asked, peering down at him, his eyes suddenly a little playful.
Shoto, in his twenty years of life, had never felt himself blush. He supposed there was a first time for everything. He burned all the way down to his toes.
“Wh-What—? N-No—!”
“Then, please stop talking, sir. I’m trying to save your life here.” He smirked a wry little smirk at him, and Shoto could have died then and there. God— he forgot what he was even supposed to be doing— what he was even there for.
Nobody had ever told him to stop talking before. Did he like that? Was that something he was into? What the hell was happening to him?
Shoto felt himself being lifted into the air, and onto a pair of broad shoulders before he could even attempt to contemplate the answer to that. There was a hand wrapped around one of his thighs, and another holding his forearm— risking the fake injuries to his wrist and elbow— but he couldn’t care less.
He was being carried as if he weighed nothing at all. Midoriya didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat. A strong, attractive firefighter was carrying him as if he were weightless, and he was barely breaking a sweat.
That might’ve been something he was definitely into.
The carry couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds— but it’d felt like hours .
Shoto was gently placed on his bottom along the building’s back wall. Midoriya crouched down in front of him, and peeled the mask off of his face, staring at him intently.
“Is there pain anywhere else, sir? Do you know if you hit your head?” Midoriya asked him, seriously again.
Shoto stared hard at the ground, mustering all of his energy into taking this as seriously as he was supposed to be. He couldn’t believe himself— ogling a fireman in training who was trying to do his job.
“I-I didn’t. It was just my arm.” He muttered.
“Look at me.” The same gentle touch from before cradled the underside of his chin, and coaxed his eyes forward.
Shoto blinked, probably, about a hundred times. He wished he was joking. He was burning. He was an embarrassment , and this beautiful, gorgeous, cool-ass guy was going to realize that for himself soon enough.
Midoriya hummed, and nodded a little, his lips twitching slightly. “Your eyes look fine. Very pretty, but fine. No concussions here.” His hand fell from Shoto’s chin.
“Great.” Shoto mumbled, cheeks burning. Very pretty— his eyes? Had he looked into a mirror at all ? Should he say it back?
Likewise, your eyes are absolutely stunning. He should say that.
“Y-Your eyes—“ He began, and his tongue suddenly expanded twice its size in his mouth, making it impossible to speak at all. “Um…”
Midoriya watched him, smirking. Not a mean smirk— but a, I know exactly what I’m doing smirk. A cocky smirk. And God , was that sexy.
“Okay! And that is time!” Toshinori blew his whistle as the last fireman brought his civilian to safety. Shoto felt as if he were coming out of a daze. “Only thirteen minutes for twenty injured. Well done, boys.”
Some of the firemen whooped, finding each other in pairs, again. Midoriya remained crouched in front of him. Shoto remained extremely aware of that.
“I want all of you to thank your volunteers for their time and effort, and once that’s done, everyone is dismissed. Have a good rest of your day!”
Shoto found Momo across the field, shaking hands with a violent looking blond man. He just wanted to leave— to hell with the thank you’s.
“Thank you for your time today…” Midoriya trailed off, and suddenly Shoto’s eyes were on him again. He seemed expectant, and it was then that Shoto realized he was coaxing him for his name.
“Oh, um, Shoto. Todoroki. Todoroki Shoto, my apologies.” He stammered, finding the strength to lift himself off the ground, praying his behind wasn’t stained green from the grass.
“Todoroki Shoto.” Midoriya smiled the words, humming shortly to himself whilst his hands made quick work of removing his bulky fireman jacket. Underneath, he wore nothing but a plain, white t-shirt, straining across hard abdominal muscles and tanned, freckled skin.
Shoto had honestly never seen someone so attractive in his entire life.
“There was something else I wanted to say— or ask, I suppose…” Midoriya trailed off, fumbling a little with his jacket. He suddenly seemed a little shy. “I was wondering if I could give you my number? Maybe we could get something to eat later. Y-You know, as a thank you for today.”
Shoto’s heart was beating so hard he was afraid everyone else remaining on the field would hear it. He was burning again, he could feel it. He was burning, and this cute, cool-ass firefighter in training was asking for his number. None of it seemed real.
“Uh, s-sure.” He nodded jerkily anyway, shakily taking out his phone and punching in Midoriya’s phone number as he relayed it out loud to him.
“Call me. Please .” He’d said to him. He smiled at him again, one last time, before joining the rest of his crew. Shoto watched as he went in utter amazement.
“Oh, I called it.” Momo was suddenly speaking in his ear. Shoto jumped a foot into the air, spooked. “What did I say? Eat your words , pretty boy, because you totally just found yourself a cool, cute guy, just like I said you would!”
Shoto watched Midoriya again, and their eyes met, and it was crazy— how a feeling could feel so instinctual and right. Midoriya smiled again, looking away first, bashful.
A cute, cool-ass guy would be waiting for his call later. Shoto smiled only a little.
“I… I think I did.”