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Izuku had hoped that returning to their apartment might ease the tension between them. But as Shouto follows him in, the air only seems to get heavier. The careful way he closes the door and keys in the code for their lock sets Izuku on edge more than it would have had Shouto slammed the door shut.
Neither of them speaks as they slip off their shoes and coats.
“I want to talk about what happened,” Shouto says the moment they enter their living room, never one to beat around the bush.
Izuku sets a hand on the arm of the couch, scratching the fabric idly and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He turns to face his boyfriend, hesitantly lifting his gaze to Shouto’s face. Anxiety tightens further around Izuku’s heart at the expression he’s faced with.
Shouto's usual soft features are now taut with exhaustion and deliberately contained emotions. There's anger there, Izuku can see it. But the hurt is more prominent.
“Of course, Shouto,” Izuku says quietly. “But can we–can we eat first? If that’s okay?” Thankfully, Izuku’s stomach grumbles in support of his request.
Shouto’s eyes search his face and Izuku can see the gears turn as he contemplates.
“Yes, alright,” Shouto relents and Izuku lets out a sigh of temporary relief.
Izuku kind of wishes they hadn’t showered and changed at the agency; a little solitude under some hot water might have been helpful to prepare himself for a conversation that he realizes now was inevitable.
Dinner is an uncharacteristically quiet event and Izuku has no one to blame but himself. He’s usually the chatty one, having tons to say about his day, about literally anything really and Shouto is always happy to listen. But now only the sounds of their chewing and the clinking of their utensils and bowls fill the space.
They go through the motions of putting away food and cleaning the dishes with practiced familiarity. That seems to lighten the atmosphere a little and Izuku feels like he’s able to take a real breath. Shouto receives a picture of the stray cat his mother has unofficially adopted and he shows it to Izuku with a smile. Izuku shuffles close to him and their arms touch, and Izuku thinks they’re okay.
It was just one of the harder days at work and they both just need to sleep it off. It’s still fairly early so maybe they can cuddle on the couch for a bit, watch an episode or two of their show. A tacit assurance to one another that they’re here now and that’s what matters most and that they love each other. And that they’re okay.
It’s with this hope that Izuku pads over to their couch and plops down, grinning at Shouto and holding out a hand. His heart begins to sink when Shouto just looks at him for a moment. But it feels like it drops to his gut when Shouto does join him on the couch but chooses to sit on the opposite end. Izuku’s fingers can barely skim his knee.
“I still want to talk, Izuku,” Shouto says softly but his tone is firm.
Izuku swallows thickly. “Right,” he says, “I didn’t forget about that, I promise.”
Shouto nods, readjusting his position as he deliberates how to start the conversation. Izuku is torn between watching his face and looking away—he can’t bear it if he finds some indication that Shouto might actually…hate him for today. Because Izuku already knows exactly what Shouto wants to talk about.
Izuku licks his dry lips, “Shouto, listen, I—”
Shouto’s gaze is suddenly sharp and intense on him and Izuku cuts himself off. But Shouto continues to look at him, waiting.
“I know what happened out there in the fight,” Izuku manages to continue. “It was not—ideal. I wish it was, though. I wish, I dunno, I wish there was another option but there wasn’t. None that I could think of at that moment. The villain had unleashed their quirk and those two girls were right there and I didn’t have much time. I saw you rush in and there was nothing else I could do and that was the only way I could—”
“There was,” Shouto says shortly.
“I—what do you mean, Shouto, there was no time.”
“There was, Izuku. We had at least ten seconds more which was plenty. And had you listened to my instructions to wait, we could have achieved the same outcome without risking your life in that way. Sero was right behind me and he could have helped.”
Izuku clenches his jaw, staring at Shouto’s impassive face. “You know I couldn’t take that chance,” Izuku says. “You can’t just expect me to just stop and wait when people are in trouble! How could you even ask me to do that?”
“I wasn’t asking you to take a gamble on the two girls’ lives, I was asking you to take a chance on us. I’m your partner. Sero and the others were our team, we have to trust them and I—I want you to trust me.”
A sudden frustration begins to build inside Izuku, threatening to overtake the guilt that’s already been gnawing at him.
“I do trust you, Shou,” Izuku scoots a little closer to him. “What makes you think—you know how much I trust you, you know that. It’s why I even ran in there, I knew you’d have my back. I knew you’d get us out.”
The look in Shouto’s eyes reveals uncertainty and Izuku feels nauseous.
“Shouto…” Izuku whispers in near disbelief. He reaches out to take Shouto’s hand but Shouto’s jerks it away, just a millimeter. But it’s enough to make Izuku feel like he’s been gutted.
“I know you trust me,” Shouto says in a voice so low Izuku just barely hears him. “But often it seems like the only time you trust me is when you choose to jump head first into danger with reckless abandon because you know that I’ll always come after you. I know that you trust that I’ll be there when you need me, no questions asked. But sometimes I do have questions. And sometimes, outside of that I—sometimes I’m not sure, Izuku. Sometimes I just wish that you’d trust my judgment too. And today, I wish you’d waited when I’d asked you to.”
Izuku is at a loss for words. The silence that follows is suffocating.
“I’m not saying that I’m going to change that,” Shouto says and Izuku’s not sure if he can even listen anymore. He needs to lay down and sleep or he needs to run out the door. Get some fresh air, some—some time to think. Something. But he stays, because he gets it. It just hurts so much to hear.
“I will still come after you even if all I get is a location pin out of the blue.” Izuku glances up at Shouto through watery eyes and catches a half smile. But it just feels like salt on the wound. “All I’m asking is that—is that you don’t take advantage of that when there are other options.”
So Izuku’s done this from the start, huh? Taken advantage of Shouto’s loyalty even before they were proper friends.
“I’m not really sure what to say now,” Izuku admits, trying to pull himself together. He wipes his eyes and clenches his hands in his lap. “I’m really sorry I’ve made you feel like I’ve–I’ve taken advantage of you, Shouto. But I’m not—I not…”
“You’re not what?” Shouto prompts when Izuku doesn’t finish his sentence.
Izuku squeezes his eyes. “I’m not sorry for the call I made today. I can’t be because I did what I needed to do as a hero. I did what I needed to do to save people, that’s our job. And yeah, it may have been reckless but I made that call not because I didn’t trust your judgment but because at that moment I trusted my own.”
The tears build up again but Izuku doesn’t let them overflow. He sniffles, swiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. Shouto stays silent. Izuku looks up to see that Shouto’s gaze is directed somewhere on the ground. His expression is frighteningly blank.
Izuku waits. And waits. But Shouto doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Izuku’s not even sure if he’s here.
“Say something,” Izuku pleads, his voice cracking.
Shouto only turns belatedly; his eyes are cold and Izuku has to clutch his shirt over his heart because it’s enough to cause him physical pain.
“I’ve said what I wanted to say,” Shouto says plainly. “I suppose I just need to…process.”
That scares Izuku and he’s not sure why. “Process what?”
A flash of emotion crosses Shouto’s features before disappearing again. “That you’ll always make these choices and risk your life to save others. Because there was a time you considered yourself disposable for the greater good. And until you get to that, the root of all of this, things won’t change.” Izuku wants to argue but he–can’t.
The tears escape now as does a sob. Izuku almost flinches when Shouto’s warm hand reaches out to wipe them away.
He looks so sad and Izuku hates himself.
“You’re not disposable,” Shouto continues. “You never were and never will be. But I also need you to understand—please look at me Izuku.” Izuku does. “You need to understand that when you don’t consider yourself and throw yourself like that, you don’t consider me either. And I know you’re not simply sacrificing yourself, you’re just going in knowing I’ll follow. And I will always come for you. Always. All I ask is that when you make your judgment, the one you trust in the heat of the moment, you include me in the equation. Because I’m a part of that now and you’re not alone out there and you’re—you’re mine. And I love you. So please just—consider. Before you act.”
Izuku feels his body shake. His hands flex and unflex against his thighs and this time, Shouto takes them in his. One cold, one warm. Both comforting.
Izuku cries freely now and the whole time, Shouto just silently holds his hands, thumbs rubbing the backs of them. Izuku lets everything sink in.
He feels so guilty but he knows that’s not what Shouto is asking for. He knows Shouto is right; Kacchan always has to remind himself to consider himself and Izuku’s been working on it, he has. But bad habits are hard to break especially when those habits are actually instinct now.
It’s true, that even if he’s okay with risking hurting himself he has to know that that means he risks hurting Shouto too. And not just Shouto but everyone he loves. And everyone who loves him.
Being a hero who will always save no matter the cost is all he’s ever wanted to be. And he’s here now. He’s saved so many. But maybe he needs to reevaluate what the price of his recklessness really could be. Losing himself is one thing but losing Shouto? For this? It hits Izuku now how much he is unwilling to pay that price.
Izuku finds himself surging forward and then he’s being cocooned by Shouto’s whole frame. There’s a hand holding the back of his head while the other rubs his back soothingly. Blabbered apologies spill from Izuku’s mouth and Shouto mumbles his own against Izuku’s hair.
It takes a while but Izuku eventually finds himself calming down. He feels Shouto press a kiss to the side of his head. Izuku tips his head back and hesitantly leans in and Shouto kisses his lips firmly. It’s chaste and wet. Shouto’s shoulder is soaked. God, Izuku feels like an absolute mess right now.
Both his hands are back in Shouto’s, and Izuku suddenly feels flustered when Shouto pulls them up to his face and kisses his knuckles; it gives him whiplash.
They make their way to bed after that, slipping out of shirts and pants before getting under the covers in just underwear. He’s sure they’ll have to talk a little more about it all and Izuku is willing to, he wants to. But that can wait for a new day. For now, Izuku refuses to stop kissing Shouto and Shouto doesn’t make any move to stop him. Apologies. Promises. Everything he wants to say, Izuku tries to convey with every press of his lips.
And in turn, Izuku accepts every touch and every murmured word of affection selfishly. Lets Shouto overwhelm him with everything he has to give without Izuku ever having to ask. Izuku’s breath hitches when he sees the tear rolls down Shouto's cheek.
Things are going to change. The lines always get blurry when dating a fellow hero, they all know that, but it’s worth it. Shouto is worth it, always has been. And Izuku will make sure he shows it.