numbertwohero | @microwaveable

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@microwaveable

His mother has good days and bad days.

On the good days, she's sweet and kind. She greets him with a hand on his cheek and a smile, she asks him how his classes are going, she remembers the friends he mentions and teases him about being popular with the girls. They go for long walks in the facility grounds and she tells him about the plants she's growing in the little space they've let her have, and he ends the visit with a hug, her thin, fragile form in his careful arms, and he wonders at how much smaller than him she is already. On the good days, he leaves with hope and renewed determination to become the best he can be, to show his father that number two isn't just second place and it's a place and a life to be proud of.

This was not a good day.

This was the kind of day where he opened her door and she looked at him for that first second with fear and hatred and sorrow, where her eyes lingered on his left side too long, no matter how much he tried to keep her on his right. This was the kind of day where every response was distracted and her voice too high-pitched and her laughter sharp and strained. This was the day that, when he reached out to stop her from walking in front of a speeding golf cart full of groundskeepers, she flinched from his touch and slapped him across the face.

She'd apologized, horror on her face and heartbreak in her voice, and he'd said it was fine, and he loved her, but he left soon after, hurrying back towards the school dorms where he could just...shut himself away. It was still early on Sunday. Everyone would still be out, or training, and he could have time to put himself back together. His right cheek is still burning from her slap, stinging and red and almost bruised, and it aches with a pain sharper and more real than the phantom ache of his scarred left side. It's a strange feeling. Normally that side doesn't feel hot. Everything is backwards. Everything is backwards, and his chest is tight, and he can feel the tears trying to burn at his eyes, but it's fine, he's almost there--

--and then he rounds the corner of the stairs heading up towards the fourth floor, and almost runs straight into Midoriya, coming down. Todoroki's eyes are wide, almost glassy, and his heart is racing, and it's only a second before he looks away, not quite flinching but all but vibrating with tension.

"...Sorry. I didn't see you there."

His voice is rough, strained, just as tight as his shoulders, and he waits for Midoriya to keep on going, to be tactful or distracted or whatever it is he needs to be, so he can finally make it up that last flight to his own floor and the safety of his room.

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Shouto doesn't remember falling asleep.

He remembers the warmth and the weight of Izuku in his arms and in his lap, a comforting presence after his tumultuous morning. Maybe this had all been a surprise. Maybe he wasn't expecting to suddenly realize that he didn't just feel friendly towards the boy he considered his best friend. But he's never been the kind of person to stew in denial and to try to ignore his feelings. He's always faced things head-on. And this...this was a good thing. A thing he wants.

He does remember kissing Izuku. He remembers being kissed. But he doesn't remember how they got here, exactly.

Not that he knows what here is, exactly, or where; he's still mostly asleep, warm and comfortable and happy. There's something solid and comfortable in his arms, and a smell that just makes him want to bury his face in it.

So that's what he does: eyes still closed, he buries his face in the back of Izuku's neck, taking a deep breath and hugging the other boy close to him.

Izuku absolutely doesn't remember falling asleep, seeing as he only barely remembers getting so comfortable in Shouto's lap that he could. But he wakes up in a fog, warm and comfortable and held fast to something warm and solid and burying itself in the back of his neck, and he makes a confused little chirp of a sound at that, turning his head and getting a face full of Todoroki Shouto's mismatched and startlingly silky hair.

...Huh.

It takes him about ten seconds to put together that he's hopelessly tangled in his friend's limbs and that freaking out about it is probably only going to tangle them further, but he can't quite figure how he got to this point. In his half-awake daze, he settles that he doesn't really care, because it's comfortable, but a more pressing part of his brain is rattling his heartbeat in his chest about it.

"Mmn, Todoroki-kun?"

Tangled is a good word for it. Shouto's got one arm pillowed under his head, and the other wrapped firmly around Izuku's waist; one bent knee is pressed to the back of the other young man's, while the other leg is wrapped around his, keeping his feet pinned. He's...well, clinging. Rather like an octopus, really. And he doesn't seem at all inclined to let go.

The sound of his name being called starts to penetrate the fog, but still doesn't get very far. He should probably answer, but words still require so much more than he wants to spend.

Instead, he makes a soft noise, a rumble deep in his throat, as he burrows in closer, lips pressed to the join of Izuku's shoulder and neck, his palm splayed flat against the other's stomach. He doesn't want to move, and he definitely doesn't want to wake up enough to remember he probably shouldn't be doing this.

Scratch this off the list of things Izuku never thought he'd wake up to. He makes another muffled sound, which becomes a startled squeak when Shouto's lips press to his neck, and he squirms in his hold. The hand on his stomach draws a startled gasp, and he wiggles his way to almost face him from his reacharound spooning.

"Todoroki-kun," he repeats, laughing quietly. "Wake up, you're too sleepy..." Gay panic would resume once he stopped being horribly charmed by Shouto's tired cuddling.

This time, his name being called is accompanied by the soft, warm, solid weight in his arms shifting and turning, which in turn calls for another one of those quiet noises in protest. It doesn't go far, at least; just turns, and finally, finally he decides he should probably wake up enough to see what's going on.

Those bicolored eyes part slowly, still hazy from sleep, to find Izuku's only bare inches from his own. Wait.

"Midoriya...?"

His voice is husky from sleep, a little confused, but there's still an affection in it that there's no hiding. As he slowly tries to pull his mind back from unconsciousness, he realizes he's holding Izuku, his arm still wrapped around the other young man. And yet...it's really comfortable, and he doesn't want to stop.

"...Guess we fell asleep?"

Oof, gay panic resumed in full force. How are his eyes so pretty, anyway? The scar on his left side really just makes the teal of his iris brighter, the greyish brown of the other softer in comparison, and Izuku's heart makes a wild bid to escape his chest by way of his mouth. He makes a strangled little chirp of a sound when Shouto groggily mumbles his name, heartbeat trapped in his throat like a tiny bird, beating its wings helplessly against the back of his tongue. He's by no means uncomfortable tangled up in the other, even if he can't remember how they got here hardly at all, but it's A Lot to suddenly wake up to.

He chews on his lower lip. "I don't even remember the weird song all Ariel's sisters sing at the beginning," he admits, but Todoroki is absolutely not imagining him squirming a little closer. Granted, it's in part because he's trying to hide the embarrassed pink darkening his face, but he's still absolutely ducking to hide against his collar again.

How had they gotten here, exactly? He'd been upset, and he'd run into Midoriya, and they'd gone to his room to hang out, and then Izuku had been crying, and--

They'd been holding hands. And then Izuku had asked to hug him, and he'd climbed into his lap, and it had been so comfortable...

It's okay if Izuku buries his face again, even if Shouto thinks his eyes are even prettier. All he does is slide a hand up the length of Izuku's back and down again, tracing the length of his spine, marveling a little both at the shape of the muscles and the fact that he's even here. That they're both here, this close, and it doesn't feel strange at all. In fact, he could just close his eyes and drift right back off, if he wanted to, and part of him really does.

Tucking his face down against Izuku's, Shouto breathes deeply, fingertips brushing the nape of his neck. "You fit like this, too," he says sleepily, and the words don't seem to sound strange at all. "I like it. I've never slept with anyone like this before." And yet, here they are.

Please excuse Izuku as he vibrates into the very stratosphere in gay panic.

"M-me neither!" He's chirping again, voice pitched higher with nerves at how close Shouto is. His hand at his neck, their faces so close, their legs still tangled and bodies fit together. He really did fit comfortably here, but just because it felt right, felt nice, was it, really? "It's embarrassing, you're a lot taller than me. That's probably why I fit well, it's like penguins, their babies are little and sit under them for warmth. Not that I'm a baby, or a penguin, I actually don't like cold weather very much at all." Please help him, he's rambling.

Honestly, Shouto isn't feeling much panic at all. Maybe he should be. After all, this isn't the kind of thing two guys should be doing, right? If he is doing this, he knows most guys his age would rather be with a girl. And yet, here he is. Comfortable. His pulse is maybe a little high, but...there isn't anyone else he'd want to be like this with. No one else, except maybe Iida, makes him feel as comfortable as Izuku does.

Even the chattering is comfortable. He never feels alone, even with his eyes closed, as long as there's that constant stream of words that Izuku is so good at providing, and Shouto does his best to listen, even when he sometimes falls off track. Like now.

"It's not embarrassing, just because you're smaller doesn't mean anything. You're still stronger," he says, and gets distracted all over again by just how muscular the smaller boy is. Again, maybe not the kind of thing he should be noticing, but here he is. Here they are.

And he's fallen off track again, distracted. That chatter is calming, and he's been drifting a little, catching the occasional word--he was talking about penguins, he thinks?--but he comes back in just in time for the end. "You should find me if you ever get too cold. I'll keep you warm," he murmurs, his eyes closing again as his arm slips back down to Izuku's waist. He would keep him warm. Absolutely.

He squirms, not entirely sure what to think of Shouto's continued pawing-- he's flattered, maybe? He keeps saying he likes it, likes how he fits, that he's strong, and the praise is sort of making him anxious, if he's honest, but he likes it. He really likes it, and maybe that's, like he noticed before, the scariest part of it all. He's been so lucky-- given a Quirk, and an amazing one, by his idol, given the chance to attend UA, making it in despite not having good control of himself. Being supported the whole way, helping Shouto learn to use his own power without being stuck thinking of his father.

Getting tangled up in him in his bed, watching a movie, limbs and breath mingling as they discover each other, warm and pliable, comforting one another in ways neither of them really understand, but both gravitate toward anyway. His breath catches in his throat.

"Todoroki-kun," he whispers, craning his neck and pressing his lips to the juncture of his neck and jawline. "...Todoroki-kun." He falls into repetition, saying his name over and over again and kissing his skin, gently, his voice getting thicker as he goes, choked with emotion and something else he can't pinpoint. He's so warm, and they're so close, and he just wants to slot himself flush to his friend's body and really feel him--

--he's reminded of his earlier thought process involving his hands in his pants, and his face and ears flare scarlet, but he stays put, heartbeat stuttering wildly. "I'm not being completely honest with you, and that isn't fair," he breathes, mouth near his earlobe.

Pawing, really? Honestly, he's just comfortable and warm, and he's still kind of in disbelief that he's being permitted to do any of this. What's a little praise compared to that? Aside from clearly being something Izuku is unused to.

He'll just have to say these things more so he has a chance to get used to hearing them, Shouto decides, but that train of thought too is entirely derailed at the way Izuku says his name, and then presses lips to the edge of his jaw in what is unmistakably a kiss. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine, one that's magnified as he does it again, and again, and his arm tightens just a little around the other boy's waist as he tilts his head back slightly, inviting more. As many more as he wants, honestly, because he doesn't want this to stop.

Of course, eventually it has to, and he's almost disappointed, except that Izuku is whispering in his ear in a way that does some incredible things all on its own, warmth spreading through the pit of his stomach.

He shouldn't get that distracted. He should focus on those words. They're important, right? I'm not being completely honest with you, Izuku says, and that's confusing enough that he pauses, tilting his own head in turn to murmur against the other's cheek. "You know you can tell me anything," he says, and doesn't even bother trying to resist the urge to kiss the side of his neck, the hollow behind his ear. Whatever it is, Izuku would never lie in a way that hurt him. Shouto's sure of it.

His breath shakes, and soon the rest of him follows, and he's winding his arms tighter around the back of Shouto's shoulders to hold onto him. The lips to his neck pull a startled gasp from him, to the shell of his ear cause a strangled whine of a sound, and the embarrassed flush to his skin blooms scarlet, traveling down and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He feels like Shouto is slowly catching him on fire, the sensation making the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his breath come in short gasps. As an afterthought, he's careful to keep his hips as much detached from their tangle as he can, because at this point he's not sure a boner is out of the question. He holds his shoulders closer, despite himself.

"I've probably liked you, maybe more than just as a friend, for a while now," he admits, and his voice is small. He sounds afraid of the words, pressing his face against the hollow of his shoulder. "Today I was just worried for you, but now... All this, it's not fair unless you know." The shaking to his shoulders becomes constant, like he's cold.

Every single one of those reactions he manages to coax from Izuku just makes him want to do this more. He's trembling, but he's also pressing closer, winding his arms around Shouto's neck; gasping for breath, but leaning in to every touch, although he seems to be very careful about keeping his hips away from their tangle. Which...might be for the best, anyway, as Shouto is beginning to think that he's definitely interested in much more than just a friendly sort of affection from Izuku, and it's probably better to hold off on that until he's heard what the other boy has to say. And what he has to say...

What he has to say makes Shouto's heart pound in his chest. What he has to say makes him wonder if he's still asleep, because he must still be dreaming. Except he couldn't dream this, could he? The warmth of Izuku's breath against his collar bone, the way he's trembling in Shouto's arms like he's freezing, even as his face burns with that flush.

"Oh." Really, oh? Is that all he can manage, a quietly surprised sound? After all of that? Sure, he wasn't expecting to hear something so bold from Izuku, but given what they've been doing, it can't have been that much of a surprise.

He should say something.

"Then...I guess neither one of us has been totally honest," he tries again, voice just as quiet and careful, soft in a way he rarely is. "Because I think I've been feeling the same way. I like being friends with you, but--it's not just that." Nudging Izuku's head with his nose, he pulls back slightly, enough so that he can get a better look at his face, a question on his own. "Do you...want to stop? Because we can. If you aren't comfortable..." He'd never want to pressure Izuku into anything he's not comfortable with, but this...he doesn't want to stop this, either.

His breathing settles into short hitched breaths that border on hyperventilating when all Shouto has to say at first is a quiet oh, because-- That could mean so many things. An oh from Shouto isn't immediately a bad thing, but he can't read him, he can't figure out what oh means in this regard. Was he grossed out? Did he just permanently destroy their friendship? Did he--

He flinches when Shouto starts talking again, quiet as it is, and he's a little startled he didn't just burst into tears, but it's like he's too shaken up to actually cry, because the very real thought that he's just ruined a friendship he's cherished so much makes him so stressed he feels sick. I guess neither one of us has been totally honest, he says, and it's such a mild statement, it could mean anything, and when he shrinks away to look at him his whole expression goes from drawn up in fear to complete slack-faced shock, because did he really hear that right, just now? I think I've been feeling the same way, he said, right? Izuku makes a wordless little croak of a sound, still shaking like his very bones are trying to escape his skin.

"I-- n-no, no, that's... this... this is really nice, if... If you want to, th-then... then I want to."

That glimpse he catches of Izuku's terrified face makes him immediately regret that 'oh,' makes him wish he were better at showing half this stuff. If he was, maybe Izuku wouldn't look so terrified. Maybe he wouldn't be trembling in his arms like he's going to shake apart.

He'll get better at this, too. If it's for Izuku...he'll do it, no question.

But for now, that's not a no, and even if Izuku is having a really strong case of nerves, he's not crying, and he's not pulling away. Shouto studies his face a moment longer, then pulls him close again, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmurs, as his hand slides down Izuku's back again, the tips of his fingers just barely slipping under Izuku's shirt to brush against bare skin. Whatever it is they're feeling, he isn't going to run from it. It feels too good to run from.

"I don't," he breathes, and it's the first thing he's said with confidence since he first started crying in overwhelm before the movie. He's still shaking, and he's nervous beyond belief, but Todoroki's fingers brushing his skin sends a new shiver up his spine and he smiles, even if the expression is wobbly.

He turns his head, brushing his skin against Shouto's, shyly putting his lips to his cheek.

The certainty in Izuku's voice is reassuring, helps Shouto gain confidence in what he's doing. For the first time since they fell asleep hours ago, Izuku sounds sure of himself. If that's because of this, he's definitely not going to stop. Fingertips are followed by the slow, gentle touch of his palm, warm and faintly calloused as he spreads his fingers and flattens his hand against the other boy's lower back.

"You're so warm," he whispers, something soft and a little awed in his voice, a tiny smile ghosting across his lips as Izuku kisses his cheek. Shouto follows suit, kiss for kiss as they seem to be trading, but this time he doesn't pull away, his lips still brushing Izuku's cheek, the edge of his jaw. His skin is so soft, especially here, soft in all the places that don't see combat, and he wonders...

"...Can I kiss you?"

Even after all this, there's a certain uncertainty to the words. What if this is one step too far? What if it's too fast, never mind how long either of them may have been moving towards this? And after all, it's his first time--what if he messes it up? But... it's too late to take it back now, and he doesn't want to. Not this, and not with him.

"So are you," he answers, quiet and back to sounding timid when he speaks. His spine curves forward at the hand against it, and he presses back into it, trying to memorize the callouses in his palms. The alternating patterns of his skin, calloused and smooth, probably from perpetual burns. He breathes in, holds his breath, and then Shouto just... asks to kiss him, full stop, and his ears practically steam from how hot they get.

"Oh," he says, and nods as opposed to answering. "I... yeah, that... I'd like that."

Shouto can see that flush climb Izuku's ears and spread rapidly from his neck, can all but feel the warmth under his lips. It's a strange feeling, and stranger to know that it's because of him, but it's not bad, either. Far from it. How could anything be bad right now? Especially since Izuku answered like that, and Shouto finds his heart is thumping hard enough it might leap from his chest.

Pulling back just a little, he licks his lips in a self-conscious gesture, looking briefly at Izuku before his eyes are drawn to his mouth. A kiss. A proper kiss, not the way they've been skirting around the edges. There's no taking this back.

But...he doesn't want to take it back. He doesn't want to take any of this back. He wants to move forward, so he does, letting his eyes slide closed and pressing a slow, careful kiss to Izuku's lips.

His breath stutters, and he has to remind himself to not just draw in a breath and hold it, Shouto's focus on his lips making his chest feel hot and his extremities feel cold in a bizarre bubble of anxiety. It's silly, really, because they both agreed to this, both want it. It's just...

...so...

...much.

He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose when Shouto's lips meet his, his eyelids dropping closed on instinct, and he's pressing back carefully with absolutely no idea of how this is supposed to happen. Does he turn his head? Does he open his mouth? He can feel his eyes get hot behind their lids, but refuses to outright cry over something like this, because it's overwhelming but it's overwhelmingly positive. He pulls back fairly quickly, another sharp breath drawn in, but licks his lips similarly to how Shouto had and presses forward again, this time just in a tap.

...except then he can't quit, and Shouto is stuck with the briefest of little peppered gestures, traveling from the center of his lips to each corner, and then he settles back at the center and lingers, letting his fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt until they shake and his knuckles turn white.

It is much. It's so much, and he isn't expecting the rush of sensation, the feeling like his nerve endings are all ablaze at something so simple as the touch of a pair of lips. So simple, and yet...here they are. It's almost a surprise when Izuku doesn't cry, but maybe he's just as overwhelmed as Shouto is by all of this, as caught off-guard by the new sensation. After all, he doesn't know how to do this, either; he's just...figuring it out as he goes. But then, maybe that's how most people do this, right? They have to. Everyone starts somewhere.

They start with a dozen little kisses, Shouto almost repressing an urge to smile as Izuku peppers his mouth with those little touches like he's going to memorize the shape of his lips. It's sweet, and every touch just makes him want the next, and the next, until they meet again in a lingering kiss that just makes him feel like he's melting. Like his own quirk has turned against him, and it's the sweetest agony he's ever felt.

He doesn't quite manage to suppress the quiet sound he makes at the feeling, a sigh of contentment as his hand slides a little further up the other boy's back, tracing the line of his spine, gently urging him closer, and almost experimentally his lips part slightly as he tilts his head, shifting a little closer. What if...yes. It seems like if he does that, kisses Izuku's lower lip, everything fits together even more. They fit.

Maybe they'll get the hang of this, after all. With just a little practice.

His arms wind tighter around Shouto's shoulders as his hand urges him closer at his spine, and he even gives up on trying to keep his hips away, curling close and truly, wholly fitting himself to Todoroki's front. It's exhilarating as much as it is terrifying, chills running up and down his body with every touch from Shouto's fingers, leaving goosebumps in their wake and a quiet, breathy laugh on his lips when he breaks away to breathe.

As a result, he jolts slightly when Shouto tilts his head and takes his lower lip as he does, startled by the boldness of the gesture, but-- it's not like he minds. He presses his own lips back, returning the gesture by closing his over Shouto's upper lip, but he's having a hard time not smiling, so he can't quite maintain the kiss, bumping their noses together and pulling away again to laugh.

"Your eyelashes are tickling me," he admits, opening his eyes just enough to look at him, his whole face blown a warm scarlet that makes his freckles stand out. He licks his lips again, and he tastes Shouto in a way he didn't expect. His expression goes slack in realization, and the warmth in his face darkens as he pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, not realizing that he's literally savoring the flavor and probably looking unreasonably erotic as he does it. Izuku please be kind, you might make him burst a capillary.

Edited 2019-08-22 03:45 (UTC)

The feeling of Izuku finally giving in and molding his entire body against Shouto's is incredible. He's said it before, but he really does love the way they fit together. It doesn't bother him at all that Izuku is smaller than he is. In fact, it just seems to help with this kind of thing.

He's worried for just a second when Izuku pulls back, but the smile on his face and the gentle sound of that laugh reassure him, make the warmth spreading through him that much stronger. He loves that laugh, and his own eyes blink open at the words as he smiles, too, just a little sheepish.

"Sorry..." He does have kind of long eyelashes. Although that one word is about all that he manages as Izuku's expression shifts and changes, as he pulls his lower lip in between his teeth and warmth of an entirely different sort floods through Shouto. God, he's beautiful, and then he does that and there's no question about it for Shouto. He's hopelessly attracted to Izuku.

He's only faintly aware of the way his own expression shifts, smile falling away and lips parting as he takes a shaky breath, eyes hopelessly drawn to Izuku's mouth. He doesn't have any idea, does he? The hand on Izuku's back slides to the side a little, Shouto's hand fitting itself around his waist, thumb lightly caressing his ribs, skimming over his stomach, and he licks his lips again.

"...We could keep going. If you want."

"Don't apologize," he says quietly, bumping his nose against Shouto's again. He doesn't have any idea, no-- especially since he immediately let go of his lip in favor of speaking, and worms closer again to put their foreheads together and thread his fingers into Shouto's hair.

"That'd be nice, I think," he replies, and his voice is quiet, eyes closed. He doesn't know that he wants to bring up that depending on what Shouto means by keep going it could get a little more... physical, because he's not sure he wants to entertain that thought or approach it enough to verbally dignify it. Maybe he'd just... ignore that impulse. "...I like you, Todoroki-kun. A lot." It felt nice to say it, now, not terrifying like it had been before.

That bump of a nose is almost too cute to stand, and Shouto's smiling again as Izuku shifts in his arms, pressing their foreheads together and sliding his hands into Shouto's hair. He doesn't quite want to close his eyes, but it's hard to look cross-eyed for very long, and eventually his eyes drift closed as well, his hand sliding down to the other boy's hip, thumb running along the edge of his waistband. Keep going, he'd said. He doesn't know exactly what that means. Of course he's not naive; he knows how sex works, and all the related activities, even between two men, the internet is an easily accessible place and he's always wondered. He's no stranger to masturbation, either. But really, it's just... he's not sure what is next. Izuku's comfort is the most important thing to him. While he wouldn't say no to figuring more of this out together, he doesn't want to push. This is still so new.

But...more of this would be nice. This soft exploration, learning the shape and the feel and the taste of each other. Shouto's legs shift against Izuku's, sock-clad toes sliding against his ankle, and he nudges Izuku's nose with his own in turn. "I like you, too, Midoriya," he answers, voice husky and barely above a whisper as he places a light, soft kiss on the other boy's mouth.

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holy run on sentences batman

U mean the most important part of a balanced breakfast?

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