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Strawberry Milk

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Secretly, Shouto gauges whether or not he wants to hang out with a group of his classmates by whether or not Bakugou is hanging out with them. Although he wouldn’t normally go out of his way to try to hang out with Bakugou by himself, if Bakugou is tolerating a healthy amount of socializing, then Shouto will often settle in and do it too.

He thinks, perhaps, that this was a mistake this time. Bakugou looks like he thinks hanging out was a mistake too. There’s about nine of them scattered in the kitchen and dining area and the topic veered into the territory of romance when Ashido and Hagakure suddenly started probing Uraraka about her crush on...someone. She turned bright red and, in a bid that Todoroki suspects was more of a deflection than an actual confession going by her frantic glances towards Midoriya, admitted to having once upon a time nursed a crush on Kirishima.

“That is the saddest excuse for gossip on the planet Earth,” Ashido says, earning a wounded look from Uraraka. “That hardly counts. Everyone’s had a crush on Kirishima.”

“If you have even a remote, passing interest in dudes,” Kaminari concurs, “you have had a crush on Kirishima.”

“Bullshit,” Bakugou snorts.

“Shut up, Bakugou, everybody knows you’re right in the middle of your crushing on Kirishima phase and nobody cares.”

“Oi! You wanna die, Raccoon Eyes?!”

“Let’s go around the room,” Ashido says loudly, clapping her hands. “No judgment, no teasing. Everybody who has ever had a crush on Kirishima, be honest, and raise your hand. Bakugou doesn’t have to participate because we know he does.”

She artfully ducks the tangerine Bakugou throws at her, as a slow, slightly embarrassed but grinning number of hands go up. She counts them off.

“Yep, Midoriya, Tooru, Kaminari—aw, bravo for admitting it, Kaminari!—Ochaco, Kyouka—did you really?”

“I didn’t know I was gay yet.”

“Valid. Let’s see, yep, Tokoyami, Aoyama...see? Practically everybody! Even Todoroki has, but he won’t raise his hand!”

There’s a strangely sharp silence as all heads swivel to look at Shouto. Bakugou looks incredulous. Shouto, in the corner, feels an unusual and unpleasant jolt in the pit of his stomach under the weight of their gazes and Ashido’s announcement, and belatedly realizes he’s deeply, deeply embarrassed. He doesn’t know what to say.

Feeling strangely betrayed, he settles coldly on, “Thanks, Ashido.”

“What? That was forever ago! You don’t still have a crush on him, do you?”

“That’s not the point,” Shouto says stiffly.

“Mina,” Jirou says, and Shouto can distantly appreciate that she’s indignant on his behalf, “what the fuck.”

“Did you really have a crush on Kirishima?” Hagakure asks. “I never thought he’d be your type!”

“Isn’t the thing that he’s everybody’s type?” Kaminari points out. “That he transcends ‘types’?”

Shouto, who feels like trying to be dishonest now would only be a waste of time and make things worse, admits, “He was really nice to me.”

“Oh, honey.

“Guys, we said no judgment or teasing!” Midoriya comes to Shouto’s rescue.

“Nobody’s judging or teasing!” Ashido protests.

“I am! What the fuck!” yells Bakugou.

“Nobody else got called out specifically for crushing on Kirishima,” Midoriya says, looking hurt by everybody’s behavior. His eyes are doing that thing they do. “Leave him alone.”

This is why, Shouto thinks, he’s also nursed a crush on Midoriya before. Not that he’s going to admit that either. He eyes the nearest exit, but his cellphone isn’t in his pocket and he can’t remember where he set it down, and he isn’t about to leave without it. He’s a modern man.

Just as he’s scanning the countertops to try and catch sight of it, Kirishima walks in. The noisy, bickering conversation around the kitchen dies conspicuously at his arrival, and Shouto has never hated his classmates more for their lack of subtlety. Even Bakugou has fallen silent. 

“Hey guys!” Kirishima says, blessedly unobservant of how his presence has changed the energy of the room. But before Shouto can be thankful for Kirishima’s inability to read the room, Kirishima’s eyes land on him and he says, “Hey, Todoroki!” and all heads snap in Shouto’s direction.

It’s not until Shouto can feel his ears burning that he realizes it’s very possible he has never truly blushed in his life before now. It always seems cute and romantic in movies and anime and stuff, but the people doing the blushing in those scenes usually seem happy about whatever is making them blush. Humiliation is making Shouto blush, and he’s not a particularly big fan.

“You like strawberry milk, right?” Kirishima asks.

After a confused beat, Shouto says, “Yes.” It comes out surlier than he wanted, his displeasure probably obvious. It isn’t Kirishima’s fault that Shouto feels invaded. He tries again, making an effort to sound nicer, “I do, yeah. Why?”

“The machine gave me two!” Kirishima shakes a little pink carton, grinning. “You’re the only one I know who likes it too! Want my freebie?”

“Asshole, I like strawberry milk!” Bakugou complains.

Kirishima looks surprised, but he’s already halfway across the kitchen with the milk extended towards Shouto. “You do? Since when?”

“Since always!”

“There’s still some in the machine,” Kirishima says. By now he’s directly in front of Shouto. He sets it on the table next to Shouto’s hand. “You can go get one if you want.”

“Whatever. Fuck you.”

Bemused, Shouto takes the carton of milk and punctures it with the straw. It makes a loud popping noise in the unsubtle quiet of the kitchen. Ashido presses her palm over her mouth and turns her head, suppressing a wild fit of giggles. Hagakure apparently has her face muffled in Ashido’s shoulder because her shirt is shaking quietly with laughter and Ashido appears weighted to one side. Jirou and Midoriya are glaring at them. Shouto’s embarrassment mounts.

“What’d I miss?” Kirishima asks, watching the girls giggle. Kaminari loses it and tries to mask his laughter as a sneeze.

“Nothing,” Jirou says sharply. Next to her, Bakugou rubs his temples and glares at Hagakure and Ashido too. Shouto is surprised he hasn’t thrown him under the bus, but he can’t be certain that it isn’t impending with Bakugou’s temper.

Shouto supposes it doesn’t really matter if anyone knows he used to have a crush on Kirishima. He doesn’t have a crush on him now . It’s just that, infatuation or no infatuation, Kirishima is still an incredibly nice and incredibly good-looking boy, and  Shouto is a teenage boy and can admit to feeling certain urges; regardless of whether or not it actually matters in the grand scheme of things that his classmates know about his old crush, there’s still something extremely unpleasant about having it exposed like that. It hadn’t felt like particularly intimate information until it was made public, and the possibility of it being exposed to Kirishima himself—and it making Kirishima uncomfortable, or grossed out, or maybe even pitying— makes something deep inside Shouto shrivel up.

Especially since it looks inevitable. Ashido’s clearly got a loud mouth and can’t recognize when something is told in confidence, and Bakugou can be a real asshole, even if he’s not being one right now. If they’re going to embarrass Shouto further, he’d rather not be here for it, so he stands up.

“Bye,” he says shortly. He raises his strawberry milk to Kirishima and almost thanks him aloud but his voice fails him there, so he addresses the room instead, “My phone is in here somewhere. Slide it under my door if someone finds it.”

He leaves.



-



Eijirou watches Todoroki walk out of the room like he’s got a stick up his ass, and then turns to look at his friends. Ashido and Hagakure are a trembling bundle of weirdly stifled laughter.

“Is he okay? Seriously, what did I walk in on?”

“Guys, you embarrassed him,” Midoriya says unhappily. “Why are you making fun of him?”

“We’re not! Honest!” Ashido cries. “The timing was just too funny!”

“What were you talking about?”

“About how everyone wants your dick, apparently,” Kaminari laughs.

“Okay, weird. What?”

“Kaminari! Shut up!” Jirou snaps.

“I really don’t see what the big deal is,” Hagakure says, waving her arms and trying to sound placating. “He isn’t crushing on Kirishima anymore.

“You don’t know that!” says Midoriya. “He seemed upset that you said anything! He might still have feelings after all.”

Eijirou, in the middle of scratching his head and trying to figure all of this out, freezes at these words. Baffled, he says, “Todoroki has feelings for me?”

There is a very pregnant pause, and then Bakugou flicks a tangerine peel at Midoriya. “Way to run your big stupid mouth again, Deku.”

Midoriya, covering his mouth with both hands, slowly lowers his forehead to the table. Jirou looks like she wants to strangle him.

“Why are you mad?” Kaminari demands of her.

“Because it sucks to be outed!”

That finally gets everyone to sober up. Ashido looks properly regretful as she says, “That’s not what I meant to do. I didn’t think it was a secret. It was from so long ago.”

“I was just trying to help,” says Midoriya miserably, shrinking under the look on Jirou’s face.

Jirou sighs harshly, miffed. “Whatever. It’s not your fault.”

After a profoundly uncomfortable silence, Eijirou says, “This was a weird thing to walk into. You guys shouldn’t have done that. Bakugou, is that his phone next to you?”

Bakugou, sitting cross-legged on the counter like a delinquent, looks around and spots the thing. “Yeah.”

“Give it here. I’ll go talk to him.”

Bakugou scowls but picks it up and hands it over. He doesn’t even throw it.

Eijirou hopes Todoroki went to his room because otherwise he doesn’t know where else to look for him. Maybe the roof? Sometimes he goes up there to stew about stuff—usually family drama, Eijirou thinks. He sometimes overhears things. That’s the only thing Eijirou has ever known to get under Todoroki’s usually unflappable skin, so the fact that Midoriya said Todoroki was upset about...whatever that conversation he interrupted was, is kind of concerning.

When he raps his knuckles on the door to Todoroki’s room, he hears him call, “I said slide it under my door.”

“It’s Kirishima. Can I come in?” A brittle quiet meets him and makes him frown. “Dude, come on.”

After a moment, he hears footsteps, and Todoroki opens the door. He looks guarded—his usual stoic expression, but there’s a subtle, sharper downturn at the corners of his mouth and a furrow between his eyebrows. He’s clearly unhappy to see Eijirou.

“What’s with that look? I didn’t do anything. Except give you some strawberry milk.” Eijirou tosses Todoroki’s phone lightly in the air and catches it again. “And return your phone.”

Todoroki blinks. Eijirou hopes he didn’t cross a line. He’s always telling Bakugou to get some sort of look off his face when he’s being particularly pissy with Eijirou for no good reason; it’s a habit telling Bakugou what to do if he’s trying to get him to be fair and not take his temper out on people.

Luckily, Todoroki’s brow unfurrows a little and his eyes flit away from Eijirou’s as he says lowly, “Sorry. Thanks.”

“No problem. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Midoriya said you seemed upset about what you guys were talking about. And you sure did hightail it outta there.”

“I’m not upset,” says Todoroki, with the slightest grimace. He’s still avoiding Eijirou’s gaze, and there’s a pink tint to his high cheekbones. “I’m just...embarrassed.”

“What for?” Eijirou asks. He’s never seen Todoroki embarrassed about anything. He’s always carried himself with such a cool, manly sense of confidence that fit him like a second skin that Eijirou really envied when they first started school. Someone like that—someone so good-looking to boot—draws romantic attention like moths to a light! Why would he be embarrassed by having a crush himself?

“I...don’t really know, I guess,” Todoroki admits. “Everyone was saying they’d all had crushes on you at some point…”

“What, really?” Eijirou laughs, flattered. What Kaminari said makes way more sense now!

“Yeah. I didn’t say anything, but Ashido just...volunteered that information for me.” Eijirou tries very hard not to smile at the way Todoroki mutters. “It was in our first year. When I got hit by that truth quirk, she asked me a bunch of questions like that.”

“You gotta tell Mina to specifically not say something, for future reference,” Eijirou says gravely, “or else she’ll run her mouth. She’ll probably apologize. She didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I know.”

Todoroki’s eyes are on the floor and his face is still flushed. Eijirou feels for the guy. He leans against the doorframe.

“Hey, not to put you on the spot or anything,” he says gently, “but you seem a little...more embarrassed than you really need to be, y’know?”

Todoroki sighs roughly. “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable about it.”

Eijirou can’t help himself—he bursts out laughing so loudly that Todoroki rocks back a little on his feet. Slapping his knee, Eijirou cackles out, “Dude, you know I like guys, right? And you’ve been voted by the entire class to be the best-looking guy in our year? This was not a bad thing for me to hear.”

Todoroki looks startled. The only time Eijirou has seen such naked shock on his face, Midoriya was screaming at him while shattering his own bones in a packed-out stadium for the entire country to witness.

“I didn’t know either of those things,” he says. He pauses, and then says, “When did they vote that? I didn’t get to participate.”

“Dude, Mina asked you in the middle of class like six months ago and you said ‘pass’ and took a nap at your desk.”

“I’m not good at focusing on some stuff.”

“You really never heard everyone call you the class pretty-boy?” Eijirou asks in disbelief. “They’ve said it right in front of you.”

True to his title, the way Todoroki’s face flushes further is extremely cute. Eijirou has noticed multiple times how attractive Todoroki is, it’s just that Todoroki’s always been leagues above the rest of them, so aloof and untouchable and difficult to read that there was no way he’d ever look at Eijirou with that sort of interest. The fact that Eijirou had been wrong about that is exciting and gratifying.

“I guess I’ve heard it,” says Todoroki, his voice slow and kind of thoughtful. “It never really...registered.” There’s a pause, and then he says with sudden frankness, “I would get praised a lot for my Quirk and strength and how my old man trained me up good, and I always hated that shit, so it’s all I could hear. If anyone said anything nice about anything else, I didn’t hear it.”

Eijirou shifts awkwardly on his feet. He doesn’t know much about Todoroki’s family life beyond his open disdain for Endeavor and some bleak but out-of-context conversation snippets he’s occasionally overheard from him and Bakugou and Midoriya, not enough to have a good grasp on what goes on behind closed doors but enough to assume it’s pretty dysfunctional. He doesn’t know what to say.

Before he can even try, Todoroki lifts a thumb to rub lightly at the mottled, burned skin under his eye. The movement looks almost self-conscious, a thoroughly alien concept to assign to Todoroki Shouto. “Do people really call me a pretty-boy?”

Eijirou, who knows his friends and classmates can be insensitive but trusts them not to be cruel, is quick to clarify, “Not in a bad way! Just, y’know, they call you pretty. Everyone thinks you’re really hot.”

“Do you?”

Eijirou laughs again, a little nervously, caught off-guard by the sudden bluntness. Now he’s the one who has to avoid that piercing look. “Well, I mean...I mean! It’s—yeah, I mean, it’s true. They’re not wrong.”

“You’ve called me a pretty-boy?” Man, what happened to that cute shy Todoroki who was embarrassed to talk about this? Now he’s practically mad-dogging Eijirou.

“No, I thought it sounded kind of rude.”

“I don’t think it’s rude.”

Eijirou looks at him again. There’s still a faint blush to Todoroki’s face, but his expression is smooth again. His pupils are wide in their mismatched irises. Eijirou never would have taken him for vain, but he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. Considering what Todoroki just told him, and going by his body language—touching his scar—it’s likely he never thought of himself as attractive, and is surprised to find that so many people do. It can’t be an unpleasant thing to discover.

“Then yeah, you really are the class pretty-boy,” Eijirou says. He watches the color in Todoroki’s cheeks flush darker and grins. He wants to take back the conversational upper hand. “What about me, huh? You said everybody’s had a crush on me, even you?”

“That’s—” There’s something thrilling about making Todoroki falter. “Yeah, so what? Everyone has. They said so.”

The defensiveness in his voice makes Eijirou laugh. “But not anymore?”

“Not really,” Todoroki says honestly. Eijirou isn’t particularly disappointed to hear it. He’s suspected something about Todoroki and Midoriya for a while, and he has his own hopeless crush on Bakugou to deal with too. Todoroki meets Eijirou’s gaze for a moment and then looks away again. “But...you know. I still think you’re...good-looking.”

“Well, thanks, man. Oh, here.” Eijirou finally hands Todoroki his phone.

“Oh. Right. Thank you.” A peculiar silence falls over them. Eijirou is prepared to just accept that it got awkward and take his leave, but Todoroki abruptly says, “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Eijirou straightens his spine, feeling a little zing of interest zip down it. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t.” Eijirou admires, once again, the way that Todoroki can make eye contact feel like a physical force weighing down on him. It’s kind of like getting punched in the nose.

Eijirou knows what Todoroki is getting at, so he asks, “Do you wanna make out a little?”

“Yes.” There’s a hand in the front of his shirt and suddenly Todoroki is yanking Eijirou into his room and shutting the door behind him. 

“Whoa! Haha, take it easy, dude,” Eijirou laughs breathlessly, regaining his footing on soft tatami. His back is gently pressed against Todoroki’s door, and Todoroki’s hand is still fisted in his shirt. Todoroki’s eyes are wide and shockingly bright, giving his expression away as eager despite the flat, disinterested line of his mouth. His knuckles are warm against Eijirou’s sternum through the thin fabric of his shirt, and that alone already feels unexpectedly intimate, like Todoroki has jumped right into physicality feet-first. To level the playing field, Eijirou lifts his hand to settle it gently on the side of Todoroki’s neck, where his pulse races against his palm. “You really don’t beat around the bush, huh? That’s pretty manly.”

“I don’t like to waste time.”

“Focusing on superficial compliments and recreation, your two weak points,” Eijirou says wryly.

“I don’t think recreation is a waste of time.” Eijirou’s eyes zero in on the flash of pink that is Todoroki’s tongue peeking out to wet his lower lip before disappearing again. “And now that I know about the superficial compliments, I don’t...dislike that, either.”

Eijirou hums and purses his lips thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes at Todoroki. “So you wouldn’t be weirded out if I said you look really hot right now?”

He feels a flush of victory at the sight of Todoroki’s face going bright red, his pupils further swallowing the color in his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobs.

“No, I wouldn’t be weirded out.”

“No?”

“I like it,” he says quietly.

“Good,” Eijirou grins, “because you’re blushing something fierce right now and it’s really pretty.”

“Kirishima,” Todoroki says sharply, suddenly stepping closer and crowding deep into Eijirou’s space, “kiss me.”

“You got it.” Eijirou cups Todoroki’s face in his hands and brings him in close. Before he closes his eyes, he watches Todoroki’s eyes flutter shut and his chest rise with a deep, anticipatory breath. He never imagined he’d get a chance to kiss Todoroki Shouto, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make the most of it.

Todoroki’s lips are soft and warm when Eijirou presses their mouths together. Eijirou feels his lips pucker slightly under his, meeting Eijirou’s pressure with his own. The sweet uncertainty of it is overwhelmingly endearing. Eijirou smiles, but this does make it a little harder to kiss.

“Sorry,” Todoroki mumbles against his mouth when their lips don’t fit together properly.

“For what?”

“I don’t really know how to do this.”

“You’re doing fine,” Eijirou says bracingly. “And you kinda just get the hang of it. We’ve been kissing for millennia, after all.”

“We have?”

“I mean, like. The human race.”

“Oh. I guess so.”

God, he’s kind of dumb. Eijirou thinks it’s cute. So he leans in, tilted, and slots their mouths together again; it fits better this time, catching Todoroki’s mouth when it’s a little open. It’s a little wetter, and hotter, and—if Todoroki’s inhale through his nose and hand twisting in the collar of Eijirou’s shirt is anything to go by—a whole lot better. Todoroki opens his mouth more and breathes out shakily when Eijirou captures his bottom lip between his teeth with infinite care.

“Sharp,” Todoroki mumbles when they separate.

“I’ll be careful,” Eijirou grins. He grins wider when Todoroki laughs a little, softly, finally letting go of Eijirou’s shirt to put his arms around him.

Eijirou grasps his hips, kissing him again. When Todoroki opens his mouth against his, Eijirou gently brushes their tongues together and is rewarded by Todoroki’s arms tightening around his neck. It tastes sweet, like strawberry milk. Slowly, Eijirou walks him backwards, away from the door and into the room. He’s grateful that Todoroki hadn’t put away his futon for the day, so he has something to lower Todoroki onto. Todoroki wastes no time in lying back and pulling Eijirou’s mouth back down to his, his hands pushing into Eijirou’s hair at the nape of his neck.

“Whoa,” he says, disengaging abruptly. His fingers probe around in Eijirou’s hair. “That’s a lot of gel.”

“Looking this manly gets real crunchy,” Eijirou says grimly.

“You should wear it down more,” Todoroki says, reaching up to gently poke at the carefully sculpted horns of Eijirou’s hairline. “It looked really good when we went to rescue Bakugou.”

Eijirou smooths the back of his hair where Todoroki had first grabbed it, trying not to feel self-conscious. “You don’t like it how it is?”

“I do. You look good like this too. I just don’t want to fuck it up by grabbing it if you put that much effort into it.”

It’s easy to forget that Todoroki has a mouth as nasty as Bakugou’s sometimes. It’s hot. Eijirou supports himself on an elbow to hover over him and says, “You can fuck it up as much as you want.”

Todoroki doesn’t hesitate once he’s given permission, shoving his fingers into Eijirou’s hair as he surges up to slam their mouths together. Eijirou winces as a tooth breaks skin on the inside of his lip, bringing his hands gently to Todoroki’s face to smoothen the kiss.

“Careful,” he says breathlessly, feeling one of Todoroki’s cheeks blaze warmer in his palm than the other.

“Sorry,” Todoroki whispers, and licks into his mouth to swipe the blood away with the confidence of a newly acquired skill that makes heat unfurl down Eijirou’s spine. It makes him sweat, goosebumps erupting up and down his body, his own body heat melting into Todoroki’s uneven, feverish warmth. He breaks away from Todoroki’s lips to trail damp kisses down his cool jaw, down his burning throat.

“You’re so hot,” Eijirou mutters into his collarbone, feeling Todoroki’s chest heave beneath him.

He means it literally, but Todoroki’s back arches a little in response to his words, breathing out, “Shit.” It makes Eijirou pause just long enough to gather his wits again. Now isn’t the time to get carried away like this, swept up in the momentum of each other’s eagerness, for Todoroki’s first kiss.

He laughs quietly into Todoroki’s skin and moves back up to kiss his mouth again. He does it slowly, his tongue sliding languidly against Todoroki’s, sucking gently on his lower lip. Todoroki’s hand finds his cheek, shaking slightly, as Eijirou brings their kiss back to an easier, calmer pace. His eyes flutter open to meet Eijirou’s when they separate, hazy.

“Let’s,” Eijirou starts hoarsely, and then clears his throat, “let’s stop here, alright?”

Todoroki blinks slowly at him, and then his eyes focus a little sharper. His face, already flushed, floods with more color suddenly. He swallows and wipes his shiny mouth with the back of his hand, nodding. “Right. Yeah. Okay.”

“That was, um,” Eijirou stutters, and then laughs at the ridiculousness of it. “Really good! Just, y’know—”

“That was a lot,” Todoroki breathes out, running a hand restlessly through his hair. Eijirou snickers at the way the two colors get mussed. He looks like a peppermint.

“I liked it,” Eijirou assures him. “Told you you’d get the hang of it.”

“I made you bleed,” Todoroki points out, thumbing Eijirou’s lower lip down to inspect the damage. “Unless you like that, and think that’s an improvement.”

“Haha, shut up.”

Todoroki pushes on his chest. “You’re heavy.”

“What? Oh! My bad.” Eijirou rolls off of him with a heavy sigh. They lie side by side on Todoroki’s futon, staring up at the ceiling. Next to Eijirou, Todoroki absentmindedly touches his own lips.

“Have you kissed anybody else in our class?” Todoroki asks.

“Not in our class.” Eijirou pauses, thinking. “I kissed Kaminari on a dare in first year, but it wasn’t like that.

“Hmm…”

“What are you hmm-ing about?”

“Nothing. It’s just funny.”

One day Eijirou is gonna witness Todoroki actually laughing because of something funny instead of Todoroki blandly saying that something is funny, but today isn’t that day. “What’s funny?”

“Most everybody downstairs was making fun of me for crushing on you when they’ve all had crushes on you too, but I’m the one who got to stick my tongue in your mouth.”

Eijirou covers his face with his hands, blushing. “Don’t say it like that, dude!”

“It’s true. I liked doing it. We should do it again sometime, if you still think I’m pretty.”

Eijirou turns his head to give Todoroki an amused look. “Sure. You’re kind of a dork, you know that? But everyone thinks you’re this super cool guy.”

“I don’t know where they got that idea.”

Eijirou sits up, laughing. “Alright, well, that was really fun. Really hot too. But I’m gonna hit the gym now.”

“I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Have fun.”

“Zzz.” He actually says the letter Z, which makes Eijirou snort.

Eijirou gets to his feet and looks down at Todoroki curled up on the futon. His hair is tousled and and his lips are still a little pink and swollen. It’s a good look on him, making Eijirou’s throat go dry. It’s probably a good thing they stopped when they did. Eijirou wants to get back down there and kiss him breathless again.

Todoroki peeks one eye open. “I can’t sleep if you’re just gonna stand there watching me.”

“Sorry. It’s just that I do still think you’re pretty.”

Todoroki curls in on himself a little. “Bye.

Eijirou laughs, nudges Todoroki’s socked foot with his own, and takes his leave.