Shouto is gay.
Oh God, he is so ridiculously, absolutely, incredibly gay.
He isn’t so sure when it started. He’s never been attracted to anyone before. Of course, Shouto isn’t blind. There have been times where he’s looked at someone, regardless of gender, and has acknowledged their beauty. He knows attractive when he sees it, but he’s never dwelled on it.
Shouto has never seen someone, found them attractive, and then went home only to think about that person even more. He never went to his room at night, images of that person clogging up his thoughts. Shouto didn’t understand why someone would waste their time doing such a thing — thinking about another person during their free time. He didn’t even think it was possible.
Then, Midoriya Izuku had to just come barging in to prove him wrong.
He came barging in with his tangle of green curls that were somehow always the perfect mess. He barged in with his cluster of freckles that, thanks to the locker room, Shouto now knows go way beyond the apples of his cheeks. Midoriya Izuku came barging in with that blindingly bright smile that always makes the heat of Shouto’s left side go into overdrive, even to the point where it spreads to his right.
Shouto tweezers a helping of soba noodles into his mouth with the use of his chopsticks, chewing slowly. He thinks of Midoriya’s eyes that take on the look of polished emeralds when he speaks to him. Shouto thinks about the expression Midoriya makes when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. He thinks of Midoriya’s face when he’s blushing, the tint of red making each freckle stand out even more.
Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya.
Shouto swallows down his soba.
Get out of my head.
“Todoroki-kun?” Shouto feels pathetic when heat blossoms in his chest. All he did was say your name, he thinks to himself, taking another bite of soba. What’re you getting so worked up for? “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet,” Midoriya says. He scoots a bit closer to Shouto, their thighs pressing against each other.
Shouto almost chokes on his noodles. He peeks over at Midoriya, who is tilting his head to the side and blinking at him in the most adorable way. “I’m fine,” Shouto mumbles.
“Todoroki-kun is always quiet!” Uraraka says with a mouthful of food, small grains of rice peppering her cheeks. “He’s always listening though, like the good boy he is!” She beams at him.
Midoriya giggles. “That’s true, I guess,” he says. “Ah, Uraraka-san! You have rice all over your face!”
Uraraka raises her eyebrows and immediately starts brushing at her cheeks with her fingers. “Did I get it off?” she quizzes.
“N-not even c-close,” Midoriya chokes out through chuckles.
“Stop laughing at me!” She pouts.
“H-here, let me.” He leans over the table and tweezers off each piece of rice with the utmost care, one by one.
Shouto looks away, focusing on his soba. His stomach is doing that weird thing again, flipping and twisting like it’s doing cartwheels. His chest feels like it’s caving in, his spine curving and making him want to curl into himself.
“Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya gives his foot a small tap underneath the table. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
Shouto sighs. Midoriya's constant worrying over him is enough to bring the smallest of smiles to his face. He hooks a strand of his scarlet hair behind his ear. “I’m fine,” he repeats. He hears Midoriya choke and, without even thinking, wraps his arm around his shoulders. “Midoriya?” he tries to hide the slight panic in his voice with no avail.
“S-sorry.” He coughs. “J-just rice s-stuck.” Midoriya coughs again, Shouto rubbing his hand up and down his spine tenderly. Iida shoves a water bottle in his face, not even trying to hide the fact he’s freaking out, arms are moving around at lightning speed.
Midoriya chugs down the water, Shouto watching his Adam’s apple bob with ever gulp. His cheeks flare up, making him avert his mismatched eyes to literally anywhere else.
Midoriya’s coughing subsides after a few more moments. His breaths become even and steady, his hand going to his chin to wipe away the small bit of water that missed his mouth.
“Are you okay?” Shouto asks, his hand pausing on Midoriya’s shoulder blade. It’s broad and strong, yet soft and delicate, almost like an eagle’s wing.
“Y-yeah!” Midoriya gives him a wobbly smile, the blush on his cheeks making his freckles pop. It’s endearing.
Shouto realizes his hand is still on Midoriya’s back and quickly removes it, swallowing back the disappointment he feels. “That’s good,” he mumbles.
He tries to focus on his soba, but all he can think about is how he could feel the curves of Midoriya’s muscles underneath the palm of his hand. Shouto gingerly latches onto a bundle of noodles from his chopsticks, trying to suppress his fantasy of what it would feel like without the shirt separating his hand from Midoriya’s bare skin.
Shame and guilt wash over him. Why is he having such vulgar thoughts about his friend? If Midoriya knew what he was thinking about…
Shouto gulps down his food, the diameter of his throat significantly smaller.
Midoriya would be disgusted, for sure. Shouto pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand, chopsticks still occupying the other as he begins to move his noodles around the plate. Any appetite he had melts away, along with his dignity.
“Todoroki-san?” Yaoyorozu’s concerned voice makes him peek up from his unfinished food. Her steel eyes are clouded with worry. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale,” she says, tilting her head to the side.
A sigh leaves Shouto’s lips as he rubs his temple. “I’m fine,” he says for what feels like the millionth time. “Just… lost my appetite.”
“Well, we have training later so even if you aren’t hungry, you should still eat something,” Yaoyorozu tells him, popping a sushi roll into her mouth.
He gives her a soft, small smile. Her maternal nature is heartwarming to even the cruelest of people. It’s impossible to not feel touched by it.
“I’ll make sure to eat something before training exercises,” Shouto reassures.
Shouto feels a small nudge underneath the table and stops himself from gasping when he realizes it’s Midoriya’s knee knocking against his own. His mismatched eyes slide over to him tentatively as he tries to ignore the fact that Midoriya’s thigh is pressing so hard against him now that he can actually feel the muscle definition through his pants.
Don’t set yourself on fire don’t set yourself on fire don’t set yourself on fire—
Midoriya slides him a granola bar and his untouched banana. “It isn’t much, but it might be easier to get down than soba,” Midoriya says.
Shouto blinks at him. “But, this is your food.”
Midoriya shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. I agree with Yaoyorozu-san; you should eat something before training.”
Shouto looks at the granola bar and fruit, then back to Midoriya. “Thank you,” he says slowly.
A smile grows on Midoriya’s face, stretching his freckles. “Just looking out for you.” He giggles.
“Well aren’t you two just adorable,” Uraraka says with a snicker. “Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding, future Todoroki Izuku.” She howls with laughter when Midoriya lets out a noise somewhere between a yelp and a squeal, his forehead slamming against the table.
Shouto grabs the packaged granola bar and begins to peel away the foil, his lips twitching upwards. He’ll never admit it out loud, but Todoroki Izuku has a nice ring to it.
“I TOLD YOU THE EQUATION FIFTY TIMES!” Bakugou roars. Shouto thinks if he raises his voice any higher, he might shatter the windows.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Kaminari cries, hiding behind Kirishima for good measure. “I swear, I’ll get it the next time! I promise!” His voice trembles with fear, even though there’s a small smile tugging at his lips that Shouto doesn’t miss.
Kirishima shakes with laughter. “You would be a terrifying teacher, Bakugou,” the redhead says, Kaminari, Sero, and Mina all nodding in agreement.
Bakugou starts screaming again, but Shouto blocks him out. His attention goes back to his own notes, trying to absorb as much information as possible.
“Wow, Todoroki-kun,” Midoriya breathes out in awe from next to him, leaning closer to get a better look at Shouto’s notebook. “Your notes are so neat… I never expected you to be the type of person to color-code though.” A heavenly giggle bubbles from him.
Shouto looks down at his notes, streaks of pink, yellow, orange, and green scattered across the pages. “It keeps everything organized,” he says. “The yellow highlighter indicates definitions, the pink indicating importants dates, the green for important people, and the orange for things the teacher said would be on the exam,” he explains, using his pencil as a pointer.
“As expected from someone in the top five,” Kaminari mutters. “How do you even have the energy to do all of that? Class is so booooooring,” he drags out with a groan.
Shouto shrugs. “I mean, I can understand not finding it entertaining. I don’t exactly find all of the things we learn interesting, but it’s material we’ll need to know as heroes,” he says.
“Todoroki-kun, The Philosopher.” Uraraka chuckles.
Shouto turns a page in his notebook, eyes scanning the notes. “If you ever need help—”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Kaminari bounces over to him like an overly excited rabbit. “I do, oh God, I do.” Kaminari slaps his hands together as if he’s ready to cite a prayer. “Please save me from the demon tutor known as Baku—”
“The fuck you call me?!” A book slams into the back of Kaminari’s head, the contact forcing him to fall forward and into Shouto. Shouto grabs him by the shoulders and steadies him. “I’m a fantastic tutor— you’re the one that can’t fucking remember some simple math equations!” Bakugou snarls.
“Stop it, Kacchan!” Midoriya shrieks when Bakugou throws another book in their direction.
Shouto unconsciously grimaces at the childhood nickname, flushing with embarrassment and disgrace at himself when he realizes.
“Ah, Todoroki-kun,” Uraraka says. “You look all pale again.”
“Honestly, Todoroki-san,” Yaoyorozu starts, shaking her head. “You need to take care of yourself more. You and Midoriya both haven’t changed one bit since our first year.”
“E-eh?” Midoriya stutters, a shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Why did you have to add me in there?”
“Because you’re, like, the king of not taking care of yourself,” Uraraka tells him with an eye roll. “Your bad tendencies have probably rubbed off on Todoroki-kun. You’re a bad influence, Deku-kun.”
“That’s not true,” Shouto says before he can even think. “I mean, honestly. I’m fine,” he quickly adds, looking back down at his notebook to hopefully hide his face that feels like it might catch on fire any second now.
Dread has been gnawing away at him all day. The boulder in his chest weighs him down, every beat feeling like a chore. His stomach is twisting in all kinds of shapes that Shouto is more than positive a stomach should not be doing. Heat pricks at him like a bunch of needles, and it isn’t even just his left side. The uncomfort had taken over his entire body, right side included. No matter how much Shouto tries to balance out the temperature, he can’t. He’s just hot all over. He’s burning from the inside, making it feel like his skin is going to start melting.
“Kacchan, stop!” Midoriya cries again for whatever reason. Shouto hasn’t looked up from his notes, and he couldn’t care less because no matter what the reason, the sound of Midoriya’s lips forming those words makes him twitch.
Shouto closes his book and exhales heavily. Maybe he really is making himself sick.
He puts his notebook in his bag and he feels Midoriya’s emerald eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up.
“Are you leaving,Todoroki-san?” Yaoyorozu questions, looking up from her homework.
Shouto simply nods and pushes himself off the floor when he feels a tug on his shirt. He looks down, raising a single eyebrow when he sees Kaminari peering up at him with these huge eyes that remind Shouto of a puppy begging for food.
“Hey, seriously though. Would you tutor me?” Kaminari pouts. “I could really use the help…” he mumbles, embarrassed.
Shouto swings his bag over his shoulder. “I don’t see why not,” he says simply.
Kaminari lights up. “Thanks, Todoroki!” Kaminari jumps to his feet, whipping out his phone from his pocket. “Let’s exchange numbers, yeah? That way we can plan a time to meet up.”
Shouto nods in understanding. The two quickly exchange numbers, Kaminari adding an unnecessary amount of emoticons next to his contact name in Shouto’s phone. “Let me know when you’re able to,” Shouto says.
“Roger that!” Kaminari grins.
Shouto adjusts the bag on his shoulder, a chorus of “Goodnight!” trailing behind him as he leaves the common room.
Unconsciously, his hand moves to his chest and over his heart. His fingers dig into the flesh as if he wants to rip it out. Shouto has never had to deal with feelings outside of his family before. He’s felt love. He’s felt hatred. He’s felt anger. But this… this feeling is new — and he hates it.
Shouto rubs the back of his neck with his right hand, decreasing the temperature in his palm as much as he possibly can. It does little to nothing at calming down the boiling blood coursing through his veins. He pauses in the middle of the hallway, leaning against the wall.
Shouto stiffens. He slowly turns his head to the owner of the voice, even though he already knows who it is. “Midoriya…”
Midoriya walks over to him, concern evident in his eyes. “I know I’ve asked you this multiple times today, and I’m sorry,” Midoriya says. “Just… are you sure you’re okay?”
Shouto runs a hand down his face. “And I told you multiple times today. I’m fine.”
“Liar,” Midoriya mumbles. His bottom lip juts out into a pout, eyes shining with a blend of worry and something Shouto can’t identify. Shouto’s heart slams against his chest, trying to escape its cage. “I didn’t know you were close with Kaminari-kun,” Midoriya says quietly.
Shouto quirks an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say we’re close,” he replies. “What gives you the idea?”
Midoriya shrugs, lips still shaped into a childish (and ridiculously adorable) pout. An indescribable expression twists Midoriya’s features. “Nothing. You two just seemed really close today, with the whole tutoring thing and stuff. That’s all.”
“Ah,” Shouto says. “Well, if he needs the help then I don’t mind giving it to him,” he adds.
Midoriya lets out a breathy laugh. “You’d be a lot better than Kacchan, that’s for sure.”
“Why do you still call him that?” Shouto clamps down on his tongue. Did I really just ask him that? A blush creeps up Shouto’s neck and he swallows thickly. “Just wondering,” he adds, hoping to cleanse his harsh tone from before.
“I guess… it’s just a habit?” Midoriya scratches the back of his neck and chuckles a bit. “It’d be weird for me to call him something else at this point, honestly.”
“I see.” Shouto coughs awkwardly. “That was a silly question, I apologize.” He looks away, the familiar feeling of guilt creeping up his throat.
Midoriya tilts his head to get a better look at Shouto, blinking up at him. “Does it… bother you? That I call him that?”
Shouto’s eyes widen for a moment before his expression reverts itself to its typical stoic state. “No. Why would it bother me?” The words leave a sour taste on his tongue.
Midoriya moves closer, and Shouto can’t move any further back, considering his back is already pressed against the wall. “Todoroki-kun…” Midoriya, growing even more bold, takes another step closer, merely inches away from Shouto at this point. “Were you… are you jealous?”
Shouto flinches. “I’m not,” he says, voice less than convincing.
Midoriya looks down at the small distance between them. There’s a beat of silence, Shouto’s pulse counting down the seconds before what Shouto believes to be inevitable disaster.
“Well… I am.”
Shouto’s breath hitches. “What?”
A flush of red colors Midoriya’s face, spreading down so far that Shouto can see the shade tinting his exposed collarbones. “I’m being ridiculous, I know,” Midoriya mumbles so quietly that Shouto isn’t even sure that’s what he said.
“Why…” Shouto visibly searches for the right words. “Why would you be jealous?”
Midoriya’s face screws up. “Do you really not know?”
Shouto is beyond confused. “Know what?”
A heavy, fatigued sigh pours from Midoriya’s lips. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He looks up at him with those large, round eyes, making Shouto melt.
Shouto’s eyebrows meet at the midline of his face, lips pursed. Tell me what? He startles when Midoriya’s hand reaches out, scarred and mangled fingers ghosting over Shouto’s forearm. Midoriya stares at him, asking him for silent permission. Shouto gulps, and Midoriya encircles his fingers around Shouto’s wrist and pulls him closer.
Midoriya mumbles something under his breath. “I didn’t… what was that?” Shouto questions, his body leaning in even closer. Midoriya lets out a small whine, the blush traveling all the way to his fingertips. Shouto can feel the heat radiating off of him. “Midoriya—”
“Ilikeyou!” The volume of his voice barely goes up, and the words are rushed and stumble together, but Shouto hears it loud and clear. Midoriya’s grip on Shouto’s wrist tightens. Shouto watches him take a few shallow breaths, eyes hooded, and lashes brushing his freckled cheeks. “I really, really like you.”
“You…” Shouto’s tongue goes numb.
“It’s okay if you don’t have anything to say back,” Midoriya says, letting go of Shouto’s wrist. He almost whimpers at the loss of contact. “I was never… you were never supposed to find out.”
Shouto hardly remembers how to form proper words, let alone sentences, so he’s pretty impressed with himself when he manages to choke out, “Why?”
Midoriya twiddles with his fingers nervously. “Just…” His eyes dart up and down the hallway. “Can we talk about this somewhere else?”
Shouto walks to his dorm, Midoriya next to him. There’s an awkward tension between the two, Shouto’s pulse throbbing in his throat. When they get there, they kind of just stand there, still not knowing what to do. Midoriya has his back pressed up against the closed door, Shouto standing in front of him in silence, like both of them are waiting for the other to start the conversation.
They both clamp their jaws shut. “You first,” Shouto says.
Midoriya visibly swallows. “Todoroki-kun, you’re a very important person to me.” His voice trembles. “The last thing I would ever want to do is to make you uncomfortable, especially around me,” he whispers, scratching his cheek with his pointer finger.
Shouto takes a step closer. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Midoriya.”
“But, this changes things, doesn’t it?” Midoriya’s teeth fiddle with his bottom lip. “Even if you say it doesn’t, it does.” Midoriya seems to curl into himself, arms going up to wind around his head with his forearms covering his eyes. “I d-dont… I’m sorry,” he hiccups.
“Midoriya,” Shouto rasps. He grabs Midoriya’s arm to move it away, but Midoriya is stubborn. “Midoriya,” he repeats, giving his arm another tug.
Midoriya sniffles. “Please just forget I said anything—”
“Midoriya.” The smaller boy of the two stops, teeth still breaking the skin of his bottom lip. Shouto stares at the sensitive pink flesh that’s moments away from breaking. He lifts his hand up and cups Midoriya’s jaw, his thumb ghosting over his lip. “Stop that.”
The arms covering Midoriya’s face slacken. “Todo—”
“I like you.” Shouto uses his free hand to grab Midoriya’s arm and move it away. His green eyes are glossed over, tears begging to spill over his lash line. Shouto’s heart tugs. “Midoriya… I really, really like you.” Shouto rubs his thumb over Midoriya’s bottom lip again.
Midoriya blinks at him in shock. “You…” Shouto nods, already knowing the rest of the question. “Oh.”
“Also,” Shouto presses his forehead against Midoriya’s, noses bumping each other, “I was jealous.”
A smile grows on Midoriya’s face. “Then… would it make you happy if I called you ‘Shouto’?”
Shouto’s heart skips. “Yes,” Shouto breathes out. “Yes, it would. Very much.”
“Shouto…” Midoriya whispers it like a secret, testing the name out on his tongue. “Shouto…”
Shivers run up Shouto’s spine. Goosebumps come to rise all over his body, yet at the same time, warmth blooms in his chest.
“Izuku.” The name rolls off Shouto’s lips with ease, like he should’ve been saying it his whole life.
Midoriya grabs the hem of Shouto’s shirt and tugs, their bodies molding with each other. Shouto nudges Midoriya’s cheek with his nose, making the other boy let out a gentle laugh. He tilts his head and brushes his lips over Midoriya’s temple. Midoriya releases a shaky sigh, a soft moan emitting from the back of his throat.
Shouto leans back, pupils blown.
Midoriya looks up and widens his eyes, pressing himself further into the door. “Oh God, I’m—”
Shouto swallows the rest of his words, his lips caressing Midoriya’s with the utmost care. Midoriya gasps into him, muscles going stiff, but then his body surrenders itself to Shouto’s and he allows himself to melt in the arms of the other boy. Midoriya hums, sending a vibration through Shouto’s body.
“Finally,” Midoriya mumbles against Shouto’s mouth.
“Finally?” Shouto parrots, hands cradling Midoriya’s jaw.
“Let’s just say I’ve liked you for a long time,” Midoriya says.
Shouto lips twitch up. “Then, allow me to make up for lost time.”
“Please do,” Midoriya manages to say before Shouto’s lips capture his once again.