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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That harder bite gets another sound from Shouto, half surprised but not at all unhappy. In fact, it's even more wanton that the first one, and his hand slips lower as Izuku pulls back, fingers deliberately splaying to grip one surprisingly muscular buttock, leaning into the feeling of fingers against his scalp. "Could be moreso," he agrees, and there's the tiniest smile on his own face as he just outright gropes Izuku, lips brushing the other's as he leans in.

There's the faintest twitch before he kisses Izuku, though; a quick little intake of air, followed by a little huff as Izuku's thumb traces those patterns over his ribs. It feels good, but it also tickles a little, honestly, and there's a trace of something that could be laughter in his voice as he finally kisses the other boy again. "Looks like I'm not the only one getting handsy, either."

The sound Izuku makes is not unlike a squashed squeaktoy, though he exhales a moment later with a much less G-rated sound, skin hot with embarrassment. He's always known Shouto to be rather bold, but he figures he'd never quite expected to be on the receiving end of that. Much less his butt.

Of course, any embarrassment over being groped vanishes the moment he catches that mirth in Shouto's tone, and he hovers barely an inch from him, going slightly cross-eyed to look at him. "...Shouto," he tests carefully, drumming his fingertips lightly in the same spot.

"Are you ticklish?"

The squeak is unbearably adorable, but the sound that follows it is anything but. In fact, it's incredibly hot, and Shouto can almost hear the rush of endorphins as he practically feels it in his bones.

Unfortunately, even his hand down Izuku's pants doesn't seem to be distracting him, and this time that twitch is even more noticeable under the other boy's drumming fingers, Shouto curling slightly and moving his arm inward, an almost defensive gesture. Ticklish? Very, and that husky laughter is even more evident in his voice as he avoids eye contact.

"Maybe a little...?"

Come on, Izuku, don't take advantage!

It's distracting, absolutely, just not quite enough to keep him off the prize of Shouto's laughter. The smile that crosses his features is absolutely melted, right at first, his features scrunching up as his lips pull away from his teeth and he folds forward to bump their foreheads together.

"That's adorable," he breathes, kissing his lips lightly. "And probably dangerous, and I'm going to file it away for later when you least expect it. You have the cutest laugh." Rest in pepperoni, Todoroki Shouto.

"You're adorable." The words are out before he even realizes he's thinking them, but he refuses to take them back, especially with Izuku smiling at him like that. Although there may be a slight flush spreading over his cheeks, anyway. A cute laugh? He thinks Shouto has a cute laugh. Dangerous, though...well, there's worse things than your--hm. Well, whatever Izuku is, right now, learning you're ticklish and delivering the most unintimidating threat you've ever heard. Definitely worse things. Leaning in, he kisses the other boy again, and once more for good measure.

"As long as you keep my secret, it'll be fine, probably."

Hm, indeed. That... was probably a conversation for later, which promised to be full of long-winded stuttered mumbling for them doing what they had without really discussing what they were. They'd expressed there were feelings, at least, but... Gosh, way to do things out of order.

He chitters his own little laugh, the sound something like a windchime, and nods.

"Only if you promise to laugh more."

It'll be fine. He's not worried about that conversation, or the results of it. He cares a lot about Izuku, and Izuku cares about him--whatever they figure out, it'll be fine. And right now...well, there's no shame in doing what they're doing here, anyway. Who's to say what order is the right order?

"I guess I could manage that." He's definitely smiling, the look on his face soft as he watches Izuku. "Although maybe not too much more in public. I think it might freak everyone else out."

That earns more laughter from Izuku, and he nods, covering his mouth with one hand to not get too carried away laughing. "Oh absolutely," he agrees, smiling widely at him. "...plus then it means I'm special." He doesn't... actually quite mean the sheer amount of personal exposure that statement bears, but there it is anyway.

"You are special."

Shouto doesn't even hesitate before saying the words. They're ones Izuku should hear more often, honestly. He's one of the most amazing people Shouto's ever met, one of the kindest and most selfless, the most brilliant and dedicated...even without these kinds of feelings, he'd still stand by those words. And he's not even slightly embarrassed by them, as might be evidenced by the way his smile softens, his hand sliding to cup the back of Izuku's neck, the way he leans his head forward against the other boy's and repeats them.

"You are," he murmurs softly, then places a kiss on Izuku's lips, gentle and lingering before it deepens again into something more urgent.

His whole face lights up like a little cherry tomato, making his freckles stand out and his eyes brighter until he scrunches them closed, his laugh getting quiet, embarrassed. His nose wrinkles and he laughs a little longer, like he can't quite stop, still chirping embarrassed little chuffs of sound as Shouto seals their lips together again. He stays that way until he presses into the gesture and it forces him to even out, and Izuku's hands shift to mirror Shouto's, threaded into the hair at the base of his neck to hold fast.

He draws back, but only just, to murmur quietly. "...so're you," he says, and then lets one of his hands trail along the outer line of Shouto's side to his hip.

He loves that laugh. All the different variations on it, delighted and embarrassed. He loves knowing that it's because of him. Even that blush brings its own particular wave of satisfaction. This is something he's done. Izuku feels this way because of him. It means something, more than he can say, and so do those words, coming from the boy who matters so much to him.

"Izuku," he murmurs in reply, that soft, vulnerable tenderness in his voice as he shifts closer yet again, lips pressing to the other's, then over his jaw. "Izuku," he whispers, and this time it's his turn to place a kiss against the join of his neck, to swipe his tongue against his collarbone, to suck a small, dark mark into skin that can be hidden by a t-shirt. Something that only he'll know is there. It's a heady rush of a feeling, that.

The mark draws a startled sound from him and he gasps, the sound almost a small yelp. It makes heat bloom in his face and neck again, making the mark look deeper still, and he tilts his head to let Shouto look over his work, eyes closed and hands kneading absently into the fabric at his hip and the hair at his nape.

"Shou," he breathes, not quite finishing his name. He purses his lips and squirms, shifting closer and pressing his own face into Shouto's neck, trying again. "Shouto," he ends the name with teeth against his skin, gentle but enough to be felt, and squirms his lower half closer still, starkly reminded of their awkward horny teenager situation.

The yelp is a little surprising, but also he can't seem to be terribly sorry for it, especially as he pulls back a little to look at his handiwork, at the flush that colors Izuku's skin, making him look even more like a strawberry. Something delicious to eat, and the idle thought makes his mind wander down much less idle paths, especially with the way the other boy breathes his name.

His head tilts back to allow Izuku more room, and his hand slides down Izuku's arm and over his hand, encouraging his grip. He wants to feel Izuku--fingers on his skin, their hearts beating against one another, teeth a gentle pressure against his throat that makes his nerve endings catch fire.

"Please--"

He's not sure what exactly he's asking for. More. Just more. More of all of this, more marks, more of Izuku's hands. More of everything, and his hips roll forward against Izuku's, a soft friction but a definite reminder of where they'd left off before.

He's managed to tangle his legs all up in Shouto's again, and uses the leverage to grind their hips together in an almost absent motion, breathing out roughly against his neck, through teeth which he presses just slightly harder into his skin.

"Mmn, please what," he asks, startled by the own huskiness to his voice. Moving away from the biting, he just peppers kisses up the column of his neck to his ear, pausing there just to breathe. "What do you want, Shouto?"

The harder press of teeth definitely touches on what he wants, coaxing a sound from his throat that's suspiciously close to a whimper. It's that, it's the way Izuku grinds against him, it's that husky sound in his voice that sends a shiver straight through him.

He almost can't answer when the other boy murmurs in his ear like that, hot breath tickling sensitive skin and making him feel almost feverish. He arches again in response, breath a shuddering sigh as he tries to form a sentence that isn't just you, I want you. His pants are uncomfortably tight, and he shifts a little on the bed, trying to find a better angle.

"Mmn--do that again?" He finally manages words, his own voice breathy and low. "It feels...really good--" All of this does, but that particular almost electric sensation was very, very nice.

He has to stop himself from asking what part, because he doesn't feel like he's really stopped doing a lot of things since this whole ordeal began. He wants to know every detail, what Shouto enjoys most, what he could maybe do without, and he's a little frustrated with himself for the itch to launch himself off his bed and take notes, but he focuses on the prize in his grasp instead.

"Hmm, this?" He doesn't really intend for his tone to come out as teasing as it does, but as his teeth clamp down on Shouto's throat again and he grinds their hips against each other and partly into the mattress, it dawns on him that it absolutely does. And maybe Shouto likes that part, too? It's going to be a struggle to remember every detail to write down later, really it is.

That's absolutely fair. But it doesn't make Shouto's answer less true; all of this. He wants more of all of this, and there's not a single thing Izuku has done so far that has made him feel less than tingly. And honestly, if he starts to forget any details, well. Shouto will be more than happy to do this again, so he can figure it all out.

For now, though, he seems to have guessed accurately, especially given the way Shouto gasps and then moans, fingers tangling in Izuku's curls and tugging him just a little closer. It hurts a little, but it's not exactly hurt, just something that makes him ache. Something that makes him want to writhe against Izuku as he rubs against Shouto yet again. And that startlingly teasing tone in his voice only makes him want it even more.

"Just like that," he manages, the words almost wanton as he sighs them, and one of his hands dips again to the curve of Izuku's hip, fingers sliding below his waistband to grab his ass again. What? He didn't mind handsy too much before...

Izuku will happily take and continue to cause tingly. Tingly is good, he thinks. He'd be delighted to know Shouto was already on board for this happening again, too, in part because next time he figures he might have more of a chance to study him since it maybe won't be as overwhelming on his own end. Maybe.

That sound earns him a startled, squashed little squeak from Izuku, straight from his diaphragm, and he shifts his teeth to more gnawing. He hums, smiling, and nods.

"I should stop making you talk, but I like it," he mumbles, shifting to nip his ear gently. "I wanna hear everything you want."

It's not like he's going to make much of a secret of it, honestly. At least not to Izuku. Shouto's always been pretty honest with his classmate, right from the very beginning. This isn't so different--at least, not in that regard. In fact, he might want to do it again sooner rather than later. Especially if Izuku's going to keep saying things like that.

Shouto bites back another noise as Izuku nips at his ear, the sound half motivated by the feeling and half by his words. He likes it when Shouto talks? He wants to hear...

"Can we take these off?" He tugs at the waistband of Izuku's pants, shifts his own hips underneath him to indicate his own. "I want to feel you against me." It's a little embarrassing to say--almost as embarrassing as just how needy his voice sounds, husky and breathless--but saying the words gives him almost as much of a rush as the idea of it all.

A little embarrassing for sure-- it makes Izuku's ears turn scarlet and he has to stop and stare through Shouto for a moment. He asked to be told, but the reality of it is he's stunned by how frank he is. It's a good thing, because if he wants to feel him it's already several steps further on the intimacy scale, but... Wow. He swallows, nodding quickly, and disentangles himself from his classmate just for a moment.

"Yeah, we can... yeah. Um." He shifts his hands to the waistband of his own shorts, giving Shouto a questioning glance. He doesn't actually ask, but he wants to make sure he really wants this down to almost complete nakedness. He's still wearing boxers, sure, but--

Oh God his boxers are also All Might, aren't they.

The way Izuku stops and stares makes Shouto freeze for a moment, his expression questioning. Is it too much? He'd thought Izuku had suggested it himself, earlier, but maybe he'd misunderstood. Maybe it was too much, too fast. Maybe he should stop.

Shouto shifts as Izuku pulls away, one hand lightly touching his wrist, the other on his cheek, thumb stroking his jaw. "We don't have to, if you don't want to. This is okay, too. I just--want to do this, with you." He doesn't want to push too fast and ruin it. But also, his jeans have been getting progressively less comfortable and he really, really does want this. He wouldn't have said it if he wasn't sure.

"Oh-- no, no it's fine, I just." He can't articulate what's caused his brain to come to a screeching halt except that it's how he works. It's like the gears were moving too fast and something suddenly got tossed in the middle of them, so he's trying to figure out how to get things rolling again. Izuku.exe has stopped functioning, despite the fact that they've been rubbing all up on each other for upwards of thirty minutes. He scrunches his face, pressing his cheek into Shouto's hand.

"I do want to," he explains, voice quiet but still a little gravely from their actions. "I just got kinda caught up in my head about it I guess?"

Shouto listens as Izuku tries to explain. It's not a lack of want, he says, he just gets...caught in his head. Not that surprising. Izuku is always thinking, his thoughts always a mile a minute. He's smart as anything, and he applies himself. It's good, but it's also probably gotten in his way more than a few times, hasn't it?

Shouto watches him, doing some thinking of his own. And after a moment, he nods slowly, coming to his conclusions. "So...let me help?" The words are quiet, a little tentative. He's not sure how, exactly, but maybe if he can get Izuku to focus on him, instead...leaning in, he pulls Izuku close, into a lingering kiss. One kiss leads to another, his aim to get Izuku to relax into the touch, his fingers a gentle pressure on Izuku's jaw, and after a long moment his other hand slides from Izuku's wrist to the waistband of his shorts, tugging gently. Maybe if it's like this, it'll feel like less pressure?

Midoriya Izuku is nothing if not A Lot Of Thinking At All Times, really. He would probably argue most of Todoroki's own narrative on it-- for one, he was book-smart because he spent more time reading books and studying heroes than he did having proper conversations with most living humans, and he applied himself because he'd spent his first fourteen years slacking the fuck off sulking over not being as awesome as a jerkwad he looked up to.

Luckily none of that has to be discussed, because it was all internal. Shouto, at least, has the sense to keep things simple, to assess quietly and take action accordingly, rather than let his gears come to a screeching halt and stumble over how to even explain what happened. Bless Shouto, really.

And his plan works perfectly, in fact-- Izuku almost immediately melts into the touch, eyes sliding closed while his own fingers settle against Shouto's collarbones. It's not until the slim fingers of Shouto's wandering hand tug at his shorts that he catches on to the intent of it all, and he draws away with a shy, but absolutely teasing smile.

"Shoucchan, that's sneaky." He doesn't even realize he's outfitted him with his very own petname.

For a moment as Izuku pulls back, Shouto can feel his brain trying to go back into I-hecked-up mode, but it only takes a glimpse of that smile to make the momentary impulse vanish. That smile, and the name that goes with it, a name that sends a brand new rush of warmth through him that's got nothing at all to do with arousal and everything to do with what he feels for the boy in front of him. He can feel his own lips curling in a small smile as well, an almost mischievous look as he tugs lightly at that waistband.

"Is it? I thought I was helping," he answers, and the lightness in his smile is matched by something equally light in his voice. "I did offer." And he does mean it. If Izuku really wants this, he's more than happy to help make it happen. Leaning in, he brushes his lips against Izuku's again, the lightest of touches. Although he can't quite help ask what slips out next...

"Shoucchan, huh?"

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this icon cracks me up more than it should tbh

lmao it's a good icon tho

he do a succ

HE DO

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