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“Shouto.”
A gentle hand rests on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He groans, his own pudgy, little one trying to bat it away, to no avail. All he gets is a soft laugh and another squeeze, followed by a gentle shake.
“Shouto, sweetheart. Wake up.”
Begrudgingly, he blinks his eyes open. He's faced with a curtain of soft white hair and grey eyes watching him fondly.
“Mommy ?”
A smile. “Come on, sleepyhead. Wake up.”
He sits up slowly, rubbing at his eyes and yawning until his jaw cracks.
“Wuss’ goin’ on ?”
A hand comes up to brush his hair back away from his eyes, cupping his left cheek. The skin is cooler than normal, and Shouto hums contentedly, rubbing his face against his mother's hand. She laughs.
“There’s something I want to show you. Be quiet, don't wake your brother and sister.”
She puts a finger to her lips, whispering a soft shhh. Shouto imitates the gesture, giggling quietly.
He clutches at her fingers as they walk out of the room. The house is quiet, the windows casting a pale grey light onto the dark wood. It must be very early. Earlier than his usual time to wake up.
“Where are we going, Mommy ?” Shouto asks, padding quietly across the house, following her slow footsteps.
“It’s a surprise,” she tells him, winking like it’s a secret. Shouto huffs. He kinda wants to know now.
He frowns when they get to the back door and she turns the handle.
“Why are we going to the garden ?”
She doesn’t answer, simply opens the door and leads him outside. Shouto briefly thinks about asking why they’re not putting shoes on, but the question dies in his throat when he sees what's outside.
The garden, which was still green yesterday before he went to bed, is now covered in a thick bed of pristine white snow. Not a blade of grass is visible under all of it. The flowers are frozen, powdery frost covers the tree leaves and icicles bleed from their branches, translucent and shiny under the pale light of the early morning.
Shouto gasps in delight. He turns to his mom, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“The weather lady on TV said it would start in three days !”
She laughs. “Sometimes the weather ladies get their predictions wrong, Shouto.”
Shouto giggles, letting go of his mother's hand to kneel on the cold wood of the porch. He lowers his left hand into the thick, powdery snow, but frowns when it melts under his touch. Sitting back, he looks at his hands for a moment, then gasps in delight at the genius idea that crosses his brain. He lowers his right hand into the snow, barely feeling the change in temperature. He closes his eyes, focusing, and coats his hand in ice, marveling at the snow sticking to it, waving his hand at his mother, who laughs affectionately.
Suddenly Shouto pouts, looking around with a displeased expression on his face.
Rei kneels next to him. “What’s wrong, sweetie ?”
Shouto crosses his arms, still pouting. “I didn’t see it fall. Because I was sleeping. Not fair.”
Rei laughs again, trying and failing to stifle her giggles behind her hand. Shouto pouts harder.
“Aw, don't be sad, Shouto.”
“But I wanted to see the snowflakes,” he says, shaking the snow off of his right hand dejectedly. It doesn't fall all pretty like the snow in the movies they watch in secret when Dad's not here.
There’s a beat of silence where they just watch the now all white garden, the quiet of the early morning rendered even more serene by the thick blanket of snow stifling the sounds of nature. It’s like time has stopped, and even the sun seems to rise slower than usual, as if letting them bask in a rare moment of peace.
Rei takes both of Shouto’s little hands in hers and turns him so they face eachother.
“Close your eyes, Shouto.”
He frowns, but she gives him an encouraging smile and he obeys, trusting his mother not to do something scary.
For a moment nothing happens, and Shouto wonders if she didn’t just trick him into closing his eyes so she can take him back to bed.
He jumps when he feels something wet fall on his left cheek. It rolls down his face and drops on his knees.
Shouto flutters his eyes open and immediately feels another drop on his eyelashes. Then another. And another.
He blinks, and realizes the spots in his vision are tiny snowflakes. He opens his eyes fully and finds himself surrounded by gentle falling snow, wisping around them both under the porch.
Shouto gasps and giggles again, shifting excitedly on his knees. He fixes his gaze on one particular snowflake right in front of him, going cross-eyed as he watches it land on his nose.
His mother keeps smiling at him, still holding his hands.
“Did you do that, Mommy ?” A nod. “It’s so pretty ! Teach me, teach me !”
She laughs, bright and warm, and pulls him into her arms.
“I do that when I'm happy. You just need to be happy, Shouto.”
Shouto giggles, burying his face into her shoulder. She starts humming, swaying them back and forth, a hand coming up to stroke his hair, mushing the red and white strands together.
Shouto falls back asleep surrounded by little snowflakes, twirling around them as his mother keeps rocking him back and forth, her voice a warm lullaby.
❄️
Shouto never thought that any place could be this quiet.
Granted, it is very late, almost one in the morning, and he supposes even hospitals have periods of calm, where there aren’t any pressing emergencies and the only traffic in the halls comes from nurses checking on patients and talking amongst themselves.
Still, it is quiet. Eerily so. Shouto is not used to it.
He turns in his bed, sighing in frustration. A million emotions stir inside his body, vibrating with frustration and remnants of adrenaline that he can't shake off. His brain rotates through memories at high speed, glimpses of his phone screen lighting up with nothing but a location, a dark alley speckled with blood, so much blood, a cold blade grazing his face and a long, pointy tongue millimeters from his cheek, that pungent metallic smell smothering his nostrils-
“Todoroki-kun ?”
Shouto startles, almost imperceptibly, impossible to notice if you aren't in possession of sharp, vibrant, overly-analytical green eyes.
“Are you awake ?”
Shouto exhales, fingers drumming on his ribcage.
“Are you ?”
That earns him a quiet giggle from Midoriya, and Shouto allows himself a small, pleased smile under the cover of darkness.
“Can't sleep,” Midoriya continues, his voice a low, soothing whisper. “I keep thinking about…”
He cuts off, and Todoroki hears his gulp. He might not be very skilled at reading social cues, but he has a feeling he knows what Midoriya means.
“Yeah. Me too.”
He hears the sound of rustling sheets, and when he looks to the side, he sees Midoriya lying sideways, turned towards him. The faint light of streetlamps outside casts a pale glow on his face, his big, earnest eyes shining in the night.
Shouto gulps.
“Do you think Iida-kun's okay ?” Midoriya asks, oblivious to Shouto's inner turmoil at the deep, forest green of his eyes.
Iida had been the most badly injured out of the three of them, and they spent a good three hours vibrating out of their skin in apprehension while he was being treated. At least, Midoriya was visibly vibrating. Shouto kept scratching at his scar, the only sign of his worried state beyond the more pronounced dip of his perpetual frown.
“I think so,” he answers honestly. “The doctors said he was stable and needed to rest.”
“Mh.”
Shouto squints, eyes adjusting to the darkness bit by bit, and he can faintly see Midoriya clutch his sheets to his chest, eyes darting back and forth. Worried.
Todoroki sits up, settling on his pillow.
“We,” he clears his throat, clenching his fists on his lap. “We could try and visit him tomorrow. The doctors might let us if we ask. And if they don’t, we’ll ask them to tell us how he’s doing.”
Frankly, Shouto doesn’t know if what he’s saying is even remotely true. They’re not Iida’s family, so they’re not high on the list of visitors, and he doesn’t know how much the doctors could tell them about the state their friend is in. He hopes anyway.
That seems to placate Midoriya, though. He nods and gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Still, it’s a smile, and his shoulders are a little less tense, so Shouto counts it as a win.
They remain like this for a while, basking in the quiet, occasionally interrupted by hurried footsteps scurrying around the hallway, hushed voices passing by the door, the constant whirring of machines, a perpetual buzz burrowing under the skin.
“I’ve never…”
Midoriya’s voice cuts through the blanket of silence, startling Shouto again. When he turns, he sees his friend curled up, face half-hidden under the sheet.
“Mh ? Midoriya ?”
Midoriya looks up, twitching a bit when he sees Shouto’s eyes fixed on him. Shouto keeps watching as different emotions seem to flit through Midoriya’s face, before his expression resolves and he uncovers his face, looking back at Shouto.
“It means a lot to me that you came. I was, um, a bit desperate, when I sent that text. I was… scared. I didn’t think anyone would make it in time, if they even understood what the message meant. So when you showed up, when I…” Midoriya bites his lip, eyes darting downwards. His face looks a bit darker under the faint light. “When I saw your flames, I just felt so relieved. Like everything was going to turn out okay. Because you were here. With me.”
Shouto… doesn’t know what to say to that. Granted, he’s not really prone to talking a lot, unlike Midoriya, but he still feels like he should respond, find a way to receive the monumental gratitude his friend is expressing with grace and aplomb. However, his heart is beating unnaturally fast, and his mouth is very dry. His body’s heating up, making his left hand clammy and his right side almost steam from the effort of keeping his internal temperature under control.
In the end, Shouto decides to just be honest. There is no other way to be, faced with Midoriya’s… everything.
“I didn’t really think about it, to be honest,” Shouto says, keeping his eyes on his hands, his left palm shiny with nervous sweat. “I was close to the location you sent, and it was obvious you were in danger. My body just… moved on its own.”
A soft, breathy giggle catches Shouto’s attention. When he turns back, Midoriya’s watching him with big, shiny eyes, glassy with tears.
“What ?”
Midoriya sniffles. “Nothing. It’s just what you said.”
“What about it ?”
Midoriya settles more comfortably on his pillow, curling his hands under his face. “A very trusted source once told me that’s what every hero says. That they moved without thinking. Because they needed to help.”
Now Shouto really doesn’t know what to say. He’s never heard anything like that before. Least of all referring to himself. He’s a bit dubious as to who’s the “source” Midoriya talks about, but he has no reason not to believe him. Midoriya doesn’t lie about things like this. And the way he looked at him when he said it, big eyes so full of sincerity and gratitude, definitely confirms it.
Shouto wants to believe him. He really does.
Still bathed in the silence, still safely hidden under the dark, Shouto allows himself to smile, a real, full smile that stretches across his face and has him duck his head into his chest, cheeks impossibly warm on both sides.
There’s a light snore rumbling to the side, and when Shouto looks back at him, Midoriya’s eyes are closed, a peaceful expression on his face as he finally succumbs to sleep.
Shouto’s smile gets even wider, and he indulges himself looking at Midoriya’s gentle sleeping face, his freckles barely visible in the darkness, but still breathtaking.
Something wet lands on Shouto’s eyelash, and he barely suppresses a yelp, a hand coming up to wipe his face. When he blinks his eyes open, what he sees almost has him yelping in surprise again.
White snowflakes are falling around his head. They’re small, smaller than regular ones, and they melt into tiny clouds of steam before they even reach the bedcovers. Still, Shouto feels a lump in his throat at the sight, memories of cold, damp wood under his knees and a hug that felt just as warm as a cup of tea.
Shouto falls back asleep to the sight of these tiny specks of snow, and the sound of Midoriya’s soft snores in his ears.
❄️
Shouto doesn’t expect to find anyone in the common room this early in the morning.
It’s Sunday, so naturally, all his classmates should be fast asleep at five or so in the morning, getting their much needed rest after weeks of classes and internships bearing down on them. Frankly, he doesn’t even know why he himself is awake and about this early. But he opened his eyes and they adamantly refused to close long enough for him to fall back asleep, so now here he is, padding quietly along the carpeted floors in search of something to do, in the hopes of tiring himself out enough to go back to sleep for a couple more hours.
It seems Shouto isn’t the only one who sleep’s evaded this morning. Sitting at the window, curled in on himself and hugging his knees, is Midoriya, his mane of green curls sticking in different directions, dressed in All Might pajama pants, a Mount Lady sweater and… are those Eraserhead socks ? Where did he even find them ?
Midoriya doesn’t seem to have noticed him, which some would say is quite irresponsible for a hero in training who was a key player in a very high profile rescue mission a few weeks ago, but Shouto’s too tired to care, and all to happy that Midoriya hasn’t noticed him yet, so he can look at him for a few minutes, letting his heart beat as wildly as it wants and his cheeks flush crimson.
His crush on Midoriya isn’t a recent development at all, in fact he’s pretty sure it’s been quietly taking over his heart and his mind since the fool broke every finger in his hand for him back at the Sports Festival. That doesn’t mean Shouto knows how to keep his emotions in check when he catches so much as a glimpse of vibrant forest green, whether it be his eyes, his hair, or his hero costume. To have Midoriya displayed like this, illuminated by the soft morning light like a moving, breathing painting is like Christmas come early.
However, the more rational, slightly self-deprecating part of Shouto is quick to remind him that staring at someone for so long when they don’t even know you’re here is something that’s classified as extremely creepy if done for too long, so he decides to make his presence known.
“Midoriya.”
The aforementioned jumps, actually jumps, bouncing on the windowsill with a yelp that is definitely way too loud for how early it is. Shouto winces, and so does Midoriya, both of them looking around and straining their ears for any sound that might be one of their classmates coming in to tell them to keep it down.
When nothing and nobody comes, Shouto relaxes, looking at Midoriya as he sighs in relief and folds himself in the same position he was in a few seconds ago.
“Todoroki-kun, hi,” he says, voice quiet and scratchy, making something warm spread through Shouto’s chest. “I didn’t wake you, did I ? I really tried to be stealthy.”
Shouto doesn’t bother to hide the small, affectionate smile gracing his lips. He steps towards Midoriya, the boy immediately scooting back a little to give him room to sit opposite him. “You didn’t. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Same here,” Midoriya says, looking back at the window and sighing again. It sounds a little bit dejected, and Shouto just barely notices the glint of sadness in his eyes.
“Are you okay, Midoriya ?”
Shouto knows that the mission to rescue that little girl, Eri, took a pretty heavy toll on Midoriya. His heart still cracks a bit when he remembers his friend’s quiet tears at lunch, and the haunted look in his eyes before the actual rescue, that stayed for a few weeks after it was accomplished. He’s tried to be there for Midoriya, to comfort him to the best of his abilities, but feelings like that don’t go away overnight. He’d know.
Midoriya seems to sense his worries, and like the wonderful person that he is, tries to comfort Shouto in turn.
“I’m alright, Todoroki-kun.” He’s still looking out the window with that sad look on his face, though. “I’m just a bit bummed.”
Shouto frowns. “Why ?”
Midoriya suddenly blushes.
“I-it’s dumb, really…”
“If you’re upset, it’s not dumb.”
Midoriya’s blush gets redder, and he hides his face in his knees. He mumbles something unintelligible, so Shouto leans forward.
“What was that ?”
“I said,” Midoriya gulps, thumbs twiddling. “I wish it would snow.”
Oh. Shouto wasn’t expecting that. The weather has been getting colder these past few days, so much so that the windows of Heights Alliance are all frosted over, and the pavement is slippery outside. However, it still hasn’t snowed.
“Do you like the snow ?”
Midoriya shrugs. “It’s not so much the snow. It’s what you can do when it snows.”
Shouto cocks his head to the side, curious. “Like what ?”
The look Midoriya gives him in response makes him feel embarrassed, the way he feels when their classmates are talking about things from their childhood that they just assume everyone knows or has experienced, but Shouto hasn’t, because his father thought making him train for hours and days on end was better than letting him be a kid.
Midoriya senses his discomfort, again, and quickly saves him from it, as he tends to do.
“Well, I don’t know what others did, but when it snows, me and my mom like to go to the ice rink. Or we go to the park and watch the snow fall for hours. When I was a kid I’d stick out my tongue and try to catch the snowflakes. I was always pouting though, because as soon as they made contact with my skin, they just melted. My mom thought it was really funny.”
Shouto ducks his head and smiles, the picture of a tiny Midoriya running around with his mouth wide open trying to eat snowflakes making him shake with quiet laughter.
Midoriya perks up at that, scooting closer to Shouto.
“Then we’d go and get hot chocolate, and I always wanted a giant dollop of whipped cream on it. It stuck to my face when I drank it, like a big white moustache.”
This time Shouto laughs in earnest, hiding his face behind his hand as Midoriya joins him in his mirth. “That sounds fun.”
“It is !” Midoriya says, a joyful whisper. “Hey, maybe we could-”
He stops himself, a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks. Shouto cocks an eyebrow.
“Could what ?”
Midoriya blushes harder, but he gulps and looks Shouto straight on.
“M-maybe we could… do that together. When it starts snowing.”
Before Shouto even opens his mouth to reply, Midoriya flails, arms waving in different directions.
“O-only if you want to ! I-I-I’d understand if you think it’s, um, kind of childish. It really is, isn’t it ? Plus, we’d have to make time for it, between classes and the internship and-”
“I’d like that.”
Midoriya’s mouth clamps shut, his sweater sleeves falling over his hands, making him look incredibly small. It’s adorable and Shouto feels his left side warm up.
“Y-you would ?” Midoriya asks, voice wobbly.
Shouto shrugs, trying his best to appear nonchalant. “Yes. Childish things are fun sometimes.”
Midoriya blinks, big eyes shining with something Shouto can't discern, and then he smiles, his real, big smile that bunches up his cheeks and makes his freckles pop. He turns back to the window, humming a happy little tune under his breath.
Shouto looks at Midoriya, heart hammering in his chest. His tired brain betrays him, conjuring up images of him and Midoriya gliding on ice amongst strangers, holding hands for stability, eyes only on eachother. Him and Midoriya huddled together under a tree in a park, watching the snow fall gently, blanketing the grass, some flakes landing on Midoriya’s nose and Shouto gently wiping them away before they melt and freeze his face off. Drinking hot chocolate, Midoriya’s face covered in whipped cream and Shouto leaning in and kissing it away-
“Todoroki-kun !”
Midoriya’s awed voice brings Shouto back to reality, and he blinks as tiny white spots fill his vision.
Snowflakes, large and soft, have started to fall in-between them, floating through the air and landing on the carpet, melting instantly. They surround Midoriya and land in his hair, like a bunch of tiny, glistening diamonds adorning his curls.
“You can make it snow ?” Midoriya asks, a hand coming up to gently swat at the snowflakes that just won’t stop falling. “That’s amazing ! Is this a new development of your Quirk ? How long have you been able to do this ? How do you control it ?”
Shouto blinks, still entranced by the sight of Midoriya’s hair covered in tiny snowflakes. “Um, I… I don’t know.”
He does. He 100% does know how he can do this. But he can’t bring himself to say it, even in his mind, because the fear of it being taken away the moment he allows himself to say it and feel it is too great for him to take the risk.
So he lets Midoriya ramble and mutter about this supposedly new evolution of his Quirk, lets him swat at the snowflakes playfully and laughs as he tries to catch them in his mouth.
Even though he can’t bring himself to name it yet, Shouto basks in the feeling this quiet, private morning with the object of his affections brings him.
❄️
“I’m home.”
The sound and smell of cooking greet Shouto as he takes off his boots in the entryway, not having bothered to change out of his hero costume before heading home, too tired to care about civilians seeing him trudge around in it, and too eager to get back to his boyfriend with the promise of dinner and a quiet night in, followed by a rare day off for both of them.
Shouto lets the smells and sounds guide him across the apartment. Once he reaches the kitchen, he stops.
Izuku is hunched over the stovetop, vigorously stirring something in a pan. His suit jacket is found across one of the chairs, his tie discarded on top of it. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and when he turns around, there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, probably from the heat of the pan.
“Ah, welcome back ! Dinner’s not ready yet, had to hang around a little longer at school because of a last-minute meeting. Sorry.”
Were it any other day, Shouto would have told Izuku there’s nothing to be sorry for. He would have stepped up to him and kissed him, then planted a soft little peck on his right cheek, where the old, bumpy scar erased the freckles. He would have turned the heat on the stovetop down and crowded Izuku in his arms, silently demanding another kiss, or two, or ten.
Tonight, though, Shouto is stunned into silence. He doesn’t even know why, as an evening like this has become a habit for them over the years, even before they started officially dating and were still under the impression that they weren’t both equally obsessed with eachother.
But there is something about this night. It might be fatigue from working non-stop for weeks on end, it might be the hit he took to the head during a scuffle this afternoon, it might be that Midoriya Izuku has finally managed to break his brain, with only a soft, joyous smile and dinner in a pan.
Whatever it is, it takes over Shouto’s entire body, freezing him in place. It wraps around his brain, making it commit every single detail of Izuku’s face and body to memory, the image of him relaxed, still in his suit, fresh from a day of teaching and cooking something that smells absolutely divine branding itself in Shouto’s eyelids. It squeezes his heart so tightly that Shouto feels like he can’t breathe.
He’s not even surprised when the entire room, living space and open kitchen, end up surrounded in snow, flakes falling and twirling around them both, frost climbing over the windows from the inside and snow landing on the wooden floor and the carpet without melting.
“Shouto ?” Izuku asks, looking around worriedly, but there’s a hint of recognition in his eyes. “Are you okay ?”
That snaps Shouto out of it, and he crosses the space between them in two quick strides, framing Izuku’s face with his hands and kissing him with all his might, leaning into him with a bit more force than necessary and making Izuku flail his arms around with a squeak, before he finds purchase on Shouto’s waist.
When they break apart, Shouto slides his fingers into Izuku’s hair, a lot softer and curlier than it used to be, since he’s finally decided to listen to Ashido and take proper care of it around their third year.
Izuku giggles, sliding his hands up to rest them on Shouto’s chest. “What was that for ?”
Shouto looks at him silently again, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, soft freckled skin on one side and raised, bumpy but not less soft on the other.
A voice, soft and warm like a cup of tea and a lullaby, resonates in Shouto’s mind.
You just need to be happy.
“Nothing,” Shouto says, kissing Izuku’s nose, making him giggle again. “I’m just happy.”