Izuku really didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he told Todoroki to call him by his first name. He should have given it more thought, should have considered the repercussions first. Because now, at any given moment, Todoroki could take his breath away with three syllables.
“Izuku,” his head feels like it’s going to float right off his shoulders as he turns to face him.
“Hm?” is all he can manage to respond each time.
It's pathetic how easy he is. He wonders if things might be simpler if Todoroki just called him Midoriya again, but then he thinks back to the panicked look in his friend’s eye, and knows he would make the same choice.
Uraraka and Iida laugh at his expense, and honestly he can’t even blame them. They invite themselves to his room that evening to hang out, and spend the entire time ribbing him.
“Will you ever stop your mooning over him, Deku?” Ochako whines playfully from the head of the bed, slapping the back of her wrist to her forehead, the very image of drama. “Oh, Todoroki-kun! You’re so talented! Oh, Todoroki-kun, you’re so handsome! Please say my name again! ”
Izuku shoves her legs away when she pokes him with a toe, scooting over to Iida, who is sitting cross legged at the end of the bed with excellent posture.
“I’ve never said that!” Izuku groans into his hands.
“Uraraka-kun is only saying that your pining is painfully obvious, Midoriya-kun. And she’s correct. Most of the class can tell that you harbor feelings for him.”
Izuku takes a harsh breath. “You don’t think that he knows, though, right?” His voice is hinging on desperate, and Iida gives him a pitying look and ruffles his hair in a rare display of affection. It feels good, but he finds himself wishing it was Todoroki rubbing his head so that he could lean into it and tell him to scratch harder. What a strange relationship he’s found himself in, he thinks.
“Have you considered the possibility of acting on your feelings? You never know, you may discover that there is something more to your relationship with Todoroki.”
“I know there's something more to it, guys. I’m not… totally oblivious. I know that he doesn’t let anyone close like he lets me, and that means something. But I can’t say for sure that it means to him what it means to me. Todoroki doesn’t have a lot of close relationships, and I don’t have any experience with this kind of thing. It could be that this is just how our friendship goes”
“But you could try,” Uraraka leans forward.
“And risk him blowing me off for good? I can’t let my big gay crush get between us. I’m not okay with that. I’m okay with not being together that way if we can keep doing what we’re doing.”
“But doesn’t it hurt? You guys are so close, don’t you want more?”
“Of course I want more,” Izuku grumbles, resting his forehead on his knees. “But it doesn’t hurt. Not really. Being around him could never hurt…” Iida shares an indecipherable look with Uraraka over his head.
“Deku-kun…”
“There’s a solution here that neither of you have realized,” Iida gestures. The two perk up. “It’s not necessary to go all out right away if you are reluctant to show your hand, nor do you have to hold yourself back forever,” he says, gaining momentum. “You can test the waters, can’t you? Not necessarily a confession, but something to gauge Todoroki’s feelings to see if he would be receptive to your advances. I think there’s a possibility that-”
“Iida-kun, that’s brilliant!” Uraraka grasps Izuku by the shoulders and shakes him until his teeth rattle. “Deku-kun! You just have to seduce him!”
The room is silent for a moment, then erupts in a cacophony of voices.
“That’s not really what I-”
“Are you insane? I could never-”
“Deku’s gonna seduce Todoroki-kun!”
“Let’s look at this rationally-”
“I have zero sex appeal and you want me to-”
“He looks at you all the time-”
“Oh my. What have I walked into, I wonder?” A sweet voice ribbits from his door.
Izuku squeeks, tripping over his bed to the door. He peeks out, looking both ways into the empty hallway before gently pulling Tsuyu into his room.
“Tsuyu-chan!” Uraraka bubbles excitedly and tugs her down to sit on the bed next to her. “Tell Deku that he can seduce Todoroki!”
Tsuyu blinks at her, then down at where their hands are still linked between them. She looks at Izuku with large eyes and tells him “You can seduce Todoroki.”
Izuku groans and pulls on his hair. “You’re on her side? Tsuyu-chan, look at me, do I look like I can seduce anyone?”
“I think you’ve been seducing Todoroki since you began sparring with him, to be frank.”
That gives him pause. “What... do you mean by that?” he asks baffled.
“Midoriya-chan,” she says placatingly, “You don’t know your own assets, do you?”
At the clear confusion in his face, Iida chimes in. “Indeed, Midoriya, you are quite observant except for when it comes to appreciating your own worth. You should take a close and unobjective look at yourself before declaring your total lack of,” Iida clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose, “sex appeal.”
“He’s talking about your bubble butt, Deku.” Iida and Izuku burst into sputters simultaneously, and over the rush of denial ringing in his ears, he can hear Tsuyu titter with laughter.
“Nice, Ochako-chan,” she says lowly to Uraraka, who blushes and rubs the back of her head with a grin.
“Okay, let’s say I do have... something , then,” Izuku can feel his face burn. “I still don’t know how to use it to my advantage, and anything too forward would scare Todoroki off, no matter how he feels about me. He’s… shy.” The word seems wrong to use for the boy who squared off with him and told him with cold certainty that he would beat him, but it’s not too far off when he considers the way Todoroki nearly shut down after calling him by his first name. He’s… reluctant, he supposes is a better word. Reluctant to get close to people. And any move to shove them closer together faster than he was ready for would definitely have the opposite effect. He tries to explain this as well as he can.
“You know him better than any of us, Midoriya-chan,” Tsuyu says after a moment. “You would be the best person to judge what is too much, and what will strain your friendship. You've put yourself in a tight spot, with this, but I think it wouldn’t hurt to push things just a little bit further. Todoroki-chan cares deeply about you, I think it would take something more than a little flirtation to make him shun you completely.”
Izuku chews her words over carefully. Tsuyu is wise, he thinks, he trusts her advice. But… even if Shouto might be attracted to him (his heart stutters in his chest at the thought), he’s never said anything to make Izuku think that he might want more from their friendship than what they have. Maybe he should just give it up. He can live on a knife’s edge if it meant he still got to listen to Todoroki say his name and touch his hair and drink tea together.
“I just… I’m not sure,” he sighs. “I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to.”
His friends seem to droop with disappointment, and he shrinks into himself, suddenly wishing he’d put his hoodie on before everyone barged in.
“Sorry, guys…”
Uraraka is the first to jump back. “It’s okay, Deku-kun. It’s up to you. We’ll support you no matter how you want to approach this!” She takes his face between her soft hands and squishes his cheeks until he can’t help but laugh. Iida slaps a hand across his back encouragingly, and Tsuyu gives him a wide smile that makes her eyes crinkle sweetly.
“Seriously, though, Tsuyu is right, you could totally do something with those leggings. I heard from Kirishima that Todoroki sometimes starts smoking when you run by.”
“Uraraka!”
Shouto sighs deeply at the folded material being shoved at him. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, not with it becoming a monthly event, but he was positive that his last excuse of not owning any pajamas would hold them off for a little longer.
It had been a lie, of course. He had a few pairs of loose sweat pants and soft t shirts that he liked to sleep in, and he was mostly sure that they counted. He’d only lied to buy himself time to warm up to the idea of wearing pajamas in the common room, but it had started an unfortunate rumor about him sleeping in the nude.
Izuku hadn’t asked, probably because he had seen Shouto wearing his sweats in the middle of the night before, but he had gotten a number of inappropriate questions from his other classmates the week following.
And now that mortification wasn’t even worth it, he thinks with dejection. Uraraka and Iida stand outside his door, and between Iida’s robotic hand motions and Uraraka’s excited urging, he had been bullied into accepting the bundle of newly purchased pajamas.
“Todoroki-kun! You have to wear pajamas to pajama night! It’s the rules!”
Shouto attempts to stare her down, but Uraraka just looks up at him determinedly. He inwardly scolds himself for being too soft, but that voice sounds too much like his father and so he stamps it down. Endeavor wouldn’t want Shouto to bond with his classmates or participate in pajama parties. The thought almost makes him smile. If he was doing it out of spite, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He’s about to gracefully concede when Uraraka tosses in a final attempt to convince him.
“And besides! Deku will be there, he’ll be really happy to see you wearing those! He helped pick them out, you know. And he’ll wearing his pajamas too, and I know you want to see-!”
Shouto pauses with his mouth open, then shuts it soundly. Leveling them both with the coldest look he can muster, he stares them down. It’s probably not as cold a look as he should have been able to muster, what with fire flicking under his skin at the mention of Izuku, but it’s icey enough to freeze them both in place.
“A-ahem,” Iida is the first to cut the silence. “Excuse us, Todoroki-kun. We were only-”
“You’re just as bad as Kirishima,” Shouto interrupts, cracking the frigid atmosphere with the slightest of smiles.
Iida and Uraraka let out a collective breath, and he feels a bit bad about scaring them, so he does his best to look amicable when he tells them “I’ll be there. Thank you for…” he hesitates, “-thank you.”
“Whew, that was close! I guess he’s not really that comfortable with us yet.”
“It’s likely that he’s just not comfortable discussing his feelings with us, and didn’t appreciate you bringing them up so casually.”
“Ahhh Iida, I feel bad now. I just want to help them, they’re both just so…” Uraraka makes a face.
“Uraraka-kun, would it not be better to just tell them that their worries are for nothing?”
“They need to figure it out on their own. They’ve got a complicated relationship, Iida-kun. I don’t think anyone else could make sense of it, and I’m worried that if we try, we’ll only complicate things further…”
Tenya strokes his chin thoughtfully. “That’s very wise,” he says slowly. “We should be grateful to have someone like Tsuyu to keep us level headed in this delicate time.”
The barb almost goes unnoticed, Uraraka nodding along happily. “Yea- hey wait! How do you know that’s not my wisdom!”
Tenya huffs and cuts the air with a hand. “Because you voted to lock them in the utility closet, Uraraka-kun! I could never allow such treachery against our fellow classmates! I must say, Tsuyu is a much needed influence in our class! If it didn’t go against my moral sensibility, I might suggest locking you two in the utility closet!”
“Iida!” Uraraka cries.
Tenya hides a smile behind his hand as he adjusts his glasses, and delivers his lecture with his usual vigor.
Safe with a door between himself and his nosy, excitable, far too observant friends, Shouto takes a deep breath and allows himself to examine the pajamas they’d forced on him. Shaking out the bundle, he finds pajama pants, a shirt, and a pair of socks. The pants are soft and black, with a white cat face over one of the front pockets. The shirt is a simple white t shirt, but several degrees softer than any t shirt he has laying around, and it’s got something written in english across the back. He thinks it might be a cat pun, but english idioms were slippery for him sometimes. He could just ask Izuku tonight, since Uraraka mentioned that he was the one to pick them out.
Shouto feels the heat rise on his left, and drops the pajamas before he can set them on fire. He can feel his cheeks turn red and sits on his bed to cool his face with his right hand. Don’t think about it too hard.
And definitely don’t think about Izuku in his All Might pajamas…
Shouto groaned into his hand as his face literally burst into flame. Izuku owned maybe a dozen or so pairs of hero themed pajama pants, all extremely colorful, soft, and utterly adorable. He brings out the brightest pairs for movie nights. The very first movie night he’d gone to, Shouto had not been inconspicuous at all about avoiding looking at him the entire night. It had gotten a bit easier with time; he’s accepted that Izuku is unjustly adorable no matter what he wears, and does his best to cope with the fluttering in his stomach.
He’s trying really hard not to upend their delicate balance by letting on how much he really cares for his friend. Of course, by now, Izuku is the only one who doesn’t know.
He goes to collect the pajamas from the floor, and finally looks at the socks. They have little cat faces that look like they’re eating the toe of the sock. Shouto can’t help a little laugh at that. He can’t believe Izuku would pick something so frivolous for him. But that’s just like Izuku, isn’t it? Always trying to get Shouto to loosen up.
Glancing at the clock, he sees he has maybe an half an hour before they start the movie. Pulling on his new pajamas, Shouto thinks there’s something wickedly indulgent about the soft slip of fabric over his skin. He likes it. A lot. Especially thinking about Izuku, who surrounds himself shamelessly in soft things and comfort wherever possible, picking this out for him, running his hands over the cat face and laughing.
Fully dressed and sinfully comfortable, Shouto checks himself in the mirror. The shirt might be a little bit tight across the chest, but it was so stretchy that it didn’t affect his movement at all, so he excused it. Turning around, he checks the back, the words that stretch over his shoulder blades in thick black font, cat-something, he thinks. Izuku will know, he’s always in the common room early so he can-
Shouto’s eyes linger at the back of his pants.
Is that…
No.
Shouto takes calming breaths as he walks silently into the bustling living room, zeroing in on Izuku immediately and heading over to the loveseat where he sits, reading something on his phone.
Don’t look at his All Might pajamas, oh god he’s wearing the hoodie, too. Shouto keeps his eyes up and schools his face into something severe as he stops in front of him.
“Would you care to explain why I have a paw print on my ass, Izuku?” He crosses his arms and looks down his nose at the boy, who startles and meets his eyes with green, green, green.
“Whah- Todoroki-” Izuku’s words come to an abrupt halt, mouth gaping as he looks over Shouto (don’t blush, he’s not checking you out), eyes roving over him. Shouto grits his teeth and refuses to be embarrassed. “You, uh. You look… good,” Izuku stutters. “Those suit you,” Shouto watches him take his bottom lip between his teeth and has to fight to keep his righteous indignation.
“Is this your fault?” Shouto turns to point at the white paw print on the seat of his pants.
Izuku’s face goes red in record time, eyes flicking back and forth from Shouto’s face to the paw print, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to look for more than a second, but then his gaze lingers, teeth digging further into his lip until it’s white under the pressure.
Shouto averts his eyes and clears his throat to regain his attention.
Izuku jerks, wraps his arms around his head and stammers. “I- uhm. Sorry, I wasn’t- it reminded me of- do you remember the baking incident, the- you had the flour on your,” he breaks off with a squeak, curling onto the couch with his knees to his chest, and he feels something in his chest constrict.
Shouto sighs deeply and takes a seat next to Izuku on the couch, and on a whim reaches out to flick Izuku’s hood up over his head. Izuku blushes and pulls it down lower to cover his eyes. What a strange friendship they have, Shouto shakes his head.
He waits for Izuku to catch his breath and come out of his turtle-like hiding, settling in to the couch, bringing one leg up to rest his foot against Izuku’s. His cat socks look right at home next to Izuku’s colorful patterned ones. He gives him a little nudge to let him know that he’s not actually upset, and watches Izuku peak out from under his hood. Shouto props his cheek against his palm against the couch back and waits.
“Ahah, so uhm. Do you like them? Be-besides the paw print,” Izuku looks up from under his dark eyelashes, pink still high in his cheeks under his freckles.
“They’re… soft,” is the best he can give when he’s trying to swallow around his heavy tongue. After a moment, he asks “What does it say? On the back, there’s a cat pun, right?”
Izuku brightens. “Oh! Yeah, it says Cat-itude! I thought it suited you,” his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“Cat-itude,” he says deadpan, setting Izuku off into a fit of giggles. Shouto frowns at him and taps his finger against his cheek with faux impatience. “Why does it feel like all of my friends want to see me look like a fool?”
“Aww Todoroki-kun, don’t say that!” he says between breathless laughter. “I think you look c-cute.”
Shouto snaps his eyes up to meet his, and in another life he might stick his tongue out at Izuku, who looks torn between hiding again and breaking into another fit of giggles.
Eventually, like most of their conversations, Izuku ends up chatting softly to him about a hero article he’s reading, and Shouto ends up drifting closer to him the longer they talk. The rest of the class files in the closer it gets to time for the movie to start, carrying pillows and blankets and filling up the table with bowls of popcorn and sweet treats. Behind them, Iida and Kaminari are setting up the TV for a movie. He’s half considering going over and grabbing something from the snack table when Izuku calls his attention to the rowdy skirmish going on behind the couch they sit on.
“Kirishima really knows how to tame Kacchan.” They both turn to watch, looking over the back of the couch with arms draped over the edge.
Shouto hums his agreement, watching the spectacle of the two boys wrestling on the floor. As brutal as it looked, Shouto could tell that Bakugou was enjoying himself. Something about him lacked the lethal edge that he usually had, even as he threatened to blow the redhead to kingdom come.
“Why do you call him that?” He’s always wondered.
“Hm? Oh. It’s what I’ve always called him. Kacchan was the first friend I ever had,” Izuku says simply.
Shouto looks over at Bakugou, unimpressed, and Izuku chuckles lazily.
“Yeah, I know. He was pretty crazy when we were kids. But he’s not actually that bad most of the time. Especially lately. I think making new friends has really changed him.” He looks to Kirishima who is doing his best impression of a rock (pretty good considering he’s half hardened and curled into a ball) on Bakugou’s legs to keep him from getting up. For a moment Shouto spares a thought towards when he had first seen Bakugou in training. Calculating but violent, and Izuku had flinched with every explosion. Bakugou had looked positively murderous, and Shouto had thought that he was less focused on winning than he was inflicting pain. Shouto noticed a long time ago that Izuku doesn’t flinch at the sound anymore, and Bakugou is more bark than bite these days. How much courage does it take to call someone who wanted to destroy you an ally?
“Did you ever have any childhood nicknames?” Izuku asks casually, breaking him from his thoughts.
“No.”
This seems to startle to smaller boy. “What? None? Didn’t your friends ever call you anything besides Todoroki, or S-Shouto?” He stutters a bit over his first name, and Shouto’s heart clenches hearing it from his mouth and he stamps down the urge to ask him to say it again and again.
“I didn’t have many friends growing up. My sister called me Shouto, though.”
“Is that why you were embarrassed about calling me by my first name?” Todoroki shifts uncomfortably, and hopes that he doesn’t sound too pathetic. Izuku’s looking at him, he can feel his stare like pinpricks of sunlight on the back of his neck, but he’s too afraid that if he meets them he’ll find pity.
“Oh,” Izuku finally says. “Do you… Do you want one?”
“What?” Shouto chances a look up and finds nothing but sincerity and a hint of a blush in Izuku’s expression.
“W-Well… What if, uhm. What if I gave you a nickname?”
Shouto swallows thickly. “If you want to.”
Izuku grins and rubs his face cutely with his long sleeves. “Okay! H-how about Shouchan?”
His enthusiasm at the cute name startles a chuckle out of him. “Shouchan?” He presses his face into his folded arms against the back of the couch to stifle his laughter.
“What? It’s a cute name!” Izuku is pink in the face now as he pouts slightly.
“Then, do I get to give you a cute name too, Izuku?” Something low and husky drops into his voice and he’s surprised at himself until he sees Izuku’s eyes widen. And there’s something more in the look Izuku gives him, his eyes dark and staring. Shouto’s lungs feel full of cold air and he breathes out slowly. He hopes Izuku doesn’t notice the fine cold mist that falls out with his breath, but neither breaks eye contact.
“A-Actually…” Izuku starts shakily, then clears his throat. “Actually, I really like it when you call me Izuku,” his voice is a near whisper by the end of it. Shouto’s heart gives a pleasant skip.
“Then, maybe you should just call me Shouto,” his lips quirk into a half smile.
Before he can process what just happened, the lights are being flicked off one by one and everyone is clamoring around into the lounge to grab a seat on the sofas. Iida is announcing the name of the movie as everyone settles into their own spaces, some in clusters on the floor with pillows and blankets. Uraraka and Tsuyu prop pillows against the couch and curl together on the floor.
Izuku pulls his feet up and turns to sit sideways on the loveseat to see the TV. He thinks it might be the thin blanket of darkness shrouding them, but Shouto has the sudden and fierce desire to be closer. He always wants to be close to Izuku lately, but now it’s bubbling close to the surface like something hot and needy. Looking around, no one seems to be paying them any attention. Maybe he could… Izuku never minds…
Shouto leans forward to whisper into Izuku’s ear, cautious of being overheard. “Izuku, can I,” he hesitates when Izuku gives a little shiver, and a daring part of him wants to make him shiver like that again. His hoodie slips down to reveal the flushed and freckled skin of his nape where his hair curls to the first notch of his spine, and he wants . “Can I try something?”
Izuku nods, looking over his shoulder at Shouto with large innocent eyes. Shouto makes a decision, fueled by raw nerve and the look on Izuku’s face as he told him he liked it when he said his name, and he pulls his feet up onto the couch too, setting his back against the arm rest and reaching out to pull Izuku against his chest.
Izuku squeaks a little and his body is stiff as a board against him until he leans forward to speak quietly into his ear “Tell me if this is too much.”
Izuku gives a shuddering breath at his voice and this is, this is a lot. There’s a lot of touching and Shouto can’t remember ever having another person so close, pressed up against him like this, he feels hot and cold and fluttery and a bit sick to his stomach for a moment until he feels Izuku tremble a little against him.
This is Izuku, who cried easily and often and held him in the kitchen, who went out of his way to normalize affectionate touching because he knew how much Shouto needed it. This is Izuku, pressing into him with not even a hair’s breadth between them, who confessed to him that he was once touch starved too, and still never shied away from him. Izuku who is gentle and kind and strong and possibly just as overloaded as he is right now.
And it’s impossible to feel like his space is being invaded when it’s Midoriya Izuku who he has invited into his lap. Instead, he feels like his heart is going to explode from his chest.
They’re both shaking a little now, which would make him even more nervous if it didn’t also feel like everything he could ever want. “Is this okay, Izuku?” He feels the need to check.
Izuku nods vigorously in the dark and does his best to settle into their new position as Iida starts the movie. Izuku is leaning with his back against his chest, their legs are slightly overlapping out in front of them, a twisting slide of socks as they slot together, and they’re both turned a bit towards the TV. But it’s not quite right until Izuku turns his head and lifts his lips to Shouto’s ear.
“S-Shouto.”
And god if his heart doesn’t leap right out of his chest. Izuku’s breath whispers hot against his sensitive ear, his name quiet and uncertain but so beautiful. Electricity zips up his spine. Shouto holds his breath.
“Can you be warm?”
Yes yes yes yes , he can be warm. He can go nuclear in .10 seconds right now If Izuku asked him to in that voice. He lets his breath out and calls to the flame in his chest- reigns it in tightly when it tries to burn him alive. He feels it radiate out of him at about the temperature of a hot water bottle, a little warmer than he meant for it to be but perfect because Izuku finally sinks into his hold like jelly and rests his cheek on Shouto’s chest. If he never has to move again he could die happy right now.
Izuku giggles softly at something and turns his face into his chest to rub his nose (oh god) before pulling Shouto’s arm around him and giggling some more while Shouto tries not to let his pulse race because passing out right now would be a waste. The hoodie is still soft under his fingers, and beneath it is nothing but hard muscle. He tries not to squeeze the smaller boy, but ultimately fails because his arm loops all the way across his torso and his hand is grasping at Izuku’s waist. His hand big enough to span his ribs.
He’s so solidly muscled that it seems surreal that his rib cage feels so fragile. He’s reminded of his conversation on the bus, when Izuku mentioned that he wasn’t always so built. His heart clenches uncomfortably at the thought of such a small frame being skinny on top of it. He remembers the glint of old fear in his eyes when he confessed to being bullied as a child. How hard did Izuku work to get to where he is now? How many hours of sweat and blood did he sacrifice for this life? He already knows how willingly Izuku sacrificed his hand, crooked and scarred but still so strong, for him. How much has he endured with a quirk that literally smashed his body into broken bits, with a childhood friend like Bakugou who he’s certain was much more poisonous before Kirishima and the rest of A-1.
He feels again a strong throb of affection and admiration for Izuku, and he forgets himself for a moment. He leans forward to nuzzle his face against Izuku’s hair, almost black in the dim light of the TV and god, so soft. He breathes him in (is it possible to smell like sunshine?) and squeezes just a little, hand still splayed across his ribs, and drops a feather light kiss to the top of his head.
By the time he’s finished, he’s come back into some semblance of reality and realizes that Izuku is panting slightly. The hand on Izuku’s ribcage is thumping with his rabbit quick heartbeat. Oh no. Shouto is gripped with a sudden and fierce horror. What did he just do? There’s no way Izuku didn’t feel his arm tighten around his middle, or the way his face brushed his hair. Maybe, god, maybe he didn’t feel the kiss since it was so light. He prays hard and goes to lift his arm away, wincing at his foolishness, but startles when Izuku catches his arm and brings it back around his middle. Izuku’s hands are still covered by his stupidly long sleeves as he grips Shouto’s wrist tightly.
“Don’t let go,” Izuku whispers, and settles further into Shouto’s arms. Shouto blinks hard. Was that okay, then? Can… he do it again? Shouto tries to relax his stiff posture so that Izuku fits snugly against him again. What is this called, even?
They’ve never hugged before, besides their embrace in the kitchen with Izuku sitting on the kitchen table. He wonders if this counts, or if this is something else entirely. His vocabulary for intimacy is sorely lacking, but he thinks that if anyone was worth picking up a dictionary for, it was Izuku.
A word tickles on the tip of his tongue, something from Fuyumi’s gushing, or perhaps something he’s seen in a movie. They’re… cuddling. He wracks his brain to see if there’s some kind of proper time line for cuddling. Do friend’s usually hug before cuddling? Do friends cuddle? Has he just committed a faux pas? Izuku seems comfortable, and no one else in the room seems to think it’s odd.
Uraraka and Asui have their legs tangled together in front of them, Uraraka resting her head against her shoulder. He glances over at Kirishima, who is sitting on the couch upside down with his legs swung over the back. Bakugou is using his stomach to rest his elbow as he props his chin against his palm.
Looking around, he notices that most of his classmates are touching in some way or another, in varying degrees of closeness. Kaminari is using Yaomomo’s legs as a backrest, and Jirou is draped across her lap. Shouto smiles a bit to see that Yaomomo looks an inch from dropping her ladylike posture and melting into a puddle. Ashido and Hagakure are snuggled under the same blanket, using Ojiro’s thick tail to hide behind when the movie’s soundtrack jumps.
So maybe it is completely acceptable behavior for friends, then.
Shouto tells himself this is all 100% normal, platonic friend stuff, but in his heart he knows every time Izuku sinks further into him that he is gay, gay, so very gay.
And so that’s how they spend the rest of the night. Shouto’s not really watching the movie, just staring at the screen while trying to remember every detail of this moment, every inch of contact, every time one of them shifts to get comfortable until they’re practically laying down on the couch with Izuku half on top of him, head curled into the hollow of his shoulder and soft hair tickling his neck.
Izuku shifts again, scooting back until Shouto is pinned between his smaller body and the couch, Izuku’s cheek is pillowed against Shouto’s right arm. His left arm, still keeping temperature, is wrapped around his waist. Izuku clutches at his warm hand and curls around it, and every inch of Shouto is a tingling mess of nerves when he feels Izuku’s lips and soft breath against his fingers. Slowly, carefully, he lifts his head up to look at Izuku and finds him completely asleep. His face is unguarded and soft, light from the television flashing across his freckles in a multitude of colors, lips parted and pressing gently into Shouto’s hand.
He thinks he might feel the beginnings of snow falling from his eye lashes on his right side, and hurries to fix his temperature so he doesn’t wake him by turning his pillow into an ice cube. He might actually die if he woke Izuku now.
When the movie screen clicks off and the common room is dark and silent save for the snoring and sleepy breaths of their classmates all passed out around them, Shouto checks once more to see if Izuku is still asleep before leaning forward to press his lips into his hair again.
I love you.
The world comes back to him in pieces of sensory information that his brain can’t put together right away. There’s something warm and solid in his arms, and his pillow is a cool relief under his cheek. Little bits of sound filter in, something grating like a muffled chainsaw across the room, a bird pecking a light but inconsistent tattoo at the window, deep and slow breaths that ruffle his hair. Izuku chases the last moments of sleep and buries his face into the warmth in front of him, noses at soft fabric. A low rumbling sound erupts from the chest he’s pressed into, he can feel it reverberate through him and it reminds him of a big cat. Can panthers pur? Izuku pushes the silly thought away and wraps his leg over Shouto’s to pull him even closer.
...Something about that tugs his brain into wakefulness. He opens his heavy eyelids and tries to lift his hand to rub at them, finds that both of his arms are stuck, and so blinks the sleep from his eyes gradually. He can’t see right away, so he lifts his head up off of a muscular arm and cranes his neck around. Todoroki and he are pressed chest to chest, Izuku’s thigh wedged between his, and Izuku has his arms wrapped around his (solid, amazing, hot and cold) torso. He must have turned around sometime in the night. Todoroki’s left arm is a warm brand against Izuku’s waist. Izuku feels his breath whoosh out of him as he looks down at his sleeping face. He’s never seen his friend look so peaceful before, every line smoothed, completely defenseless, absolutely…
“Beautiful…” the word rushes out in hushed awe.
“Gay,” A harsh and raspy voice says too loudly behind him. Izuku jolts and Todoroki’s arm tightens around him when he turns to see Bakugou glaring at them while he stretches next to the couch where Kirishima is face down in a pillow.
“Kacchan, shh!” Izuku whispers, eyes flicking over the sleeping lumps of his classmates spread across the room.
“What was that, you fuckin’ nerd?” Bakugou stomps closer, irritation making his eye twitch. Izuku starts to wiggle out of Todoroki’s hold. If he can distract Kacchan and get him to the kitchen, maybe he wont wake everyone…
The arm around his waist tightens in an iron grip and Izuku can’t keep his head turned around to face Bakugou when Todoroki tucks him under his chin and wraps his other arm across his shoulders. Glancing up, he sees mismatched eyes burning hotly, narrowed in challenge right at Bakugou.
Izuku tries to angle his head around to see them both, but Todoroki doesn’t let his grip loose in the slightest. Whatever silent exchange he misses must be incredible, because Bakugou is clicking his tongue at them and cursing quietly as he leaves the common room.
Todoroki sighs and relaxes his hold, eyes falling shut again, but his face lacks the true stillness of sleep. Izuku’s heart is racing. He can’t just stay here wrapped up in his friend’s arms. His classmates are starting to shift restlessly. Kaminari’s chainsaw snoring stutters and pauses for longer stretches. He should go, he should get up before Todoroki realizes how Izuku is taking advantage of his sleepy state.
“Stop moving around so much,” Izuku can’t help the little shiver that runs down his spine when he feels more than hears Todoroki’s voice, how the deep sound rumbles in his chest, reminding him of his sleepy comparison to a big cat. He’s never heard Todoroki’s voice rough with sleep this way, and it twists his stomach into knots.
“Todoroki-kun,” he whispers tersely.
He makes an irritated sound in his throat. “Shouto,” he grumbles, words slurring together just slightly. "Told you to call me Shouto."
“Shouto…” Izuku says breathlessly.
His blue and gray eyes snap open, still bleary but focusing now on Izuku’s face.
“We should get up, people will talk if they wake up and-”
“Izuku,” he interrupts. “It’s too early for this.”
And then he tucks Izuku back into his hold like it’s no big deal. Like Izuku isn’t screaming inside at his sleepy, affectionate, cuddly friend. He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten. It’s okay. Todoroki-, Shouto, he corrects himself with warmth fluttering in his chest, Shouto’s a cuddly person first thing in the morning. He hadn’t known that before, but it makes sense. Izuku has known for a long time now that Shouto craves affectionate touch, and still groggy from sleep, his inhibitions were lowered so it would be easier to- Izuku swallows hard. At least he hadn’t woken up with a boner. That in and of itself is a miracle, he thinks that might actually stop his heart.
Shouto rubs his cheek over the top of Izuku’s head, and it’s so cute it’s painful. He lets himself relax into his arms. He might as well enjoy it while he can, since it didn’t feel like Shouto would be letting him go any time soon. Maybe next time, he would let Izuku hold him like this…
Shouto shifts his leg between Izuku’s knees. Time to think about something else. He checks to see if he’s fallen asleep again. His eyes are still closed, but he can tell that he’s at least partially awake from the slightest frown on his lips. He was so peaceful before Bakugou...
“Hey. S-Shouto? How did you get Kacchan to back off? I would think that challenging him like that would only work him up more.” And it had been a challenge, Todoroki- Shouto, had met the wildfire in Bakugou’s eyes with controlled heat. Izuku had missed the final exchange, but the promise of violence between them had been palpable.
“It’s a secret,” he answers with his eyes closed.
Izuku hums. “It was nice of you. He definitely would have woken everyone up.”
Shouto slowly opens his eyes and looks down at him consideringly for a moment, gaze heavy. “Yes, that was a happy coincidence. But I wasn’t thinking about them.”
“What? But then why would you-”
“You and Bakugou have a strange relationship. I know you’re a very kind person, Izuku, but I am far less forgiving.” The heat in his tired eyes startles him, and at his words Izuku remembers his promise to never forgive Endeavor for what he’s done to Shouto. He wonders if maybe Shouto is remembering that too. “You’re strong enough to take him any day,” Shouto states, and his matter of fact tone makes Izuku blush. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to every time.”
Shouto was… protecting him, he realizes. And Izuku is weak, so weak, because the way he was holding him in that moment was almost… possessive, and it sends a thrill through him at the very idea that-
“Ah. There’s my secret weapon, now,” Shouto says as Kirishima lifts his head from the puddle of drool on the pillow.
“Whah?” Kirishima rises into a sitting position and stretches with a loud crack. Half of his hair is stuck straight up and the other half is drooping down around his face. Izuku wiggles in his arms and Shouto lets him go slowly so that they can both sit up. He feels cold without Shouto’s arm around him.
“Morning, Kirishima-kun,” Izuku greets him.
“Morning, guys,” Kirishima looks up from rubbing his eyes and goes from groggy to bright eyed in seconds. “Hey, where’s Bakugou? I swear I was sleeping on him at some point last night.”
“Kitchen, probably,” Izuku points, and Kirishima bounces over to them, hopping over the sleeping lumps of Uraraka and Tsuyu, and ruffles his and Shouto’s hair at the same time until Izuku is pushing him teasingly and Shouto is grumbling halfheartedly, then skips away to find Bakugou.
Izuku isn’t exactly a morning person, but once he’s up, he’s up, so he’s already thinking about going up to his dorm and getting ready for the day when he feels Shouto’s head drop onto his back.
He looks over his shoulder at the red and white mess of hair sticking up, and reaches back to smooth it down as best he can. Shouto makes that low purring noise again and he can feel it in his toes. This… is not platonic best friend stuff…
Cuddling all night is… that could be excused as a friend thing, they have an affectionate relationship. But this morning, the tight hold, the way he was instantly alert when Izuku jolted...
Shouto’s heart beating like crazy under his ear last night is not platonic best friend stuff.
If Shouto liked him as more than just a friend, would he really be able to tell?
Izuku can feel his pulse race. His hands still in the red and white tangles.
Shouto had kissed his hair last night. He’s sure of it. He had squeezed him, strong arms warm around his middle, and then Izuku had felt Shouto press his face to the back of his head, breath hot against his neck, and light as a feather, the press of something soft in his hair.
He’s been thinking about this all wrong.
Izuku feels light headed, the press of Shouto against his back suddenly feels like too much, not enough, his body is a raw nerve alight with sensation and racing with a million thoughts. He thinks he might be laughing.
Shouto groans against his neck and Izuku can feel heat pooling in his gut. He gently removes himself from the couch, and Shouto falls back against the pillows and eyes him questioningly. Izuku lingers a moment more, and lifts his hand to hold the scarred half of Shouto’s face gently. Shouto lets his eyes fall closed and leans his head into his hand, and Izuku’s breath catches. The weight of a thousand pieces of evidence coalescing into a swirling mass in his chest that threatened to swallow him as he drags his hand up through Shouto’s hair.
Izuku hardens his resolve and slowly leans down to press his forehead against Shouto’s.
It’s nothing solid, he reminds himself when hope makes his eyes sting. He could still say no. He could want him in a different way. It could mean nothing.
It could mean everything.
Izuku pulls back and meets Shouto’s colorful eyes, more awake now and flashing with sharp intellect. He smiles down at him, tries to dial it back when it feels like his face is splitting, blinks away the wetness in his eyes, and stands.
“I’m gonna-” he huffs and runs a hand through his unruly curls. “I’ll just be-” he points, and scurries out of the common room before he can do something stupid.
Like kiss him.
It’s the weekend, and Izuku plans to use his free day to come up with a plan. He’s sitting on the floor of his room writing furiously in a clean notebook when he hears a hesitant knock on his door. He kicks the notebook under his bed on his way up.
When he opens the door, he’s not entirely surprised to see To-Shouto. He’s a little sad to see that he’s changed out of the pajamas already, but he’s wearing the long sleeved shirt that shows off his forearms when the sleeves are rolled up, and that’s almost as good. He looks a little pale, hands tucked into his pockets. Izuku smiles as warmly as he can to ease the pinched look on his face.
“Hello,” Shouto greets him flatly.
“Shouto,” Izuku tilts his head.
He pauses, eyes unable to fully meet his own. “I wanted to...apologize. If I did anything to make you uncomfortable, last night or this morning. If I crossed any boundaries with,” Izuku watches the pale length of his throat as he swallows “touching you, or what I did when Bakugou… I’m sorry,” Shouto bows his head and looks to the side, and Izuku’s heart twists. This is familiar.
“Shouto,” Izuku dips his head down into his field of vision to catch his eye before continuing. “Do you remember when we started washing my hoodie with your clothes?” Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, but he nods, mouth a pinched line.
“You came and apologized then too, right?” Izuku says softly, willing Shouto to understand. “There wasn’t anything to apologize for then, and there’s nothing to apologize for now.”
Shouto sways a moment on his feet like he can’t hold himself up anymore, and Izuku steadies him with a hand against his chest. This is familiar, too. The solid heat under his hand still makes him feel like he’s underwater, and he darts his tongue out to wet his dry lips.
“I thought… You left very quickly this morning,” Shouto says roughly, almost accusingly, but there’s a touch of humor in his voice now that makes Izuku laugh.
“Sorry, I just have something that I need to do today.” Shouto accepts his explanation easily, and steps back, looking miles better than when he had first arrived. “Can… can we hang out later, though?”
Shouto flashes him a tiny relieved smile, and nods before walking away.
Izuku holds his breath and lets himself, just this once, watch his friend walk away. He chokes on his nervous laughter as he remembers the paw print, and has to duck back into his dorm before Shouto turns around and catches him staring.
The last time Shouto had come to his door to apologize was also the first time Izuku had heard him laugh. The prettiest boy he’s ever seen, leaning against his door jam and struggling to breathe with a brilliant smile on his face.
Izuku takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rush. He pulls out his cell phone and dials Uraraka while he grabs his notebook from under the bed, short handing another few lines while it rings.
“Ochako-chan? I need your help. Text Tsuyu, please? I’m going to call Iida-kun after this. And Kirishima, too, probably. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
“What’s going on, Deku?”
“I’m going to seduce Todoroki Shouto, and I need your help.”