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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"Maybe I'm just easier to embarrass, then," he wheezes, squirming and letting his breath come and go in stuttered sounds, caught between clinging to and trying to keep himself an arm's length from Shouto. "I absolutely don't want to stop," he says, his tone clearer but still muddled, almost like he's having a hard time forming coherent thought (go figure). "I just don't want to put you in a position to have to fit into my clothes to get back to your room," Which has nothing to do with the fact that the thought of Shouto in his clothes pulls a soft keening sound from the back of his throat.

His fingers curl against Shouto's ribs, and he makes a decision, frowning and slowing his breathing enough to not be audibly hitched all the time.

"Shouto," he says, keeping his voice soft. "I-- 'm gonna be real honest, I really want to do this, I want... mmn." He loses his nerve partway through, gnaws his lip, and focuses on his collarbone. If he isn't looking at his face, he has a little more confidence. "I wanna watch you come undone at my hand, because I want to give you something nobody else has."

"Maybe. It's cute." The words slip out before he can reconsider. Cute? He's not the kind of person who says things like that, is he? But honestly, it's true. Izuku is cute. He's other things, too, but this--the way he squirms and blushes and makes those little sounds, the way he goes off into mumbling monologues--this is cute. So is the way Izuku doesn't want to stop regardless, the way he seems to steel his resolve despite the furious red in his cheeks.

That sound he makes in the back of his throat, though--that's less cute, and more...well, incredibly hot. And so is the thought of wearing a pair of Izuku's boxers on the way back to his room, the idea that he's wearing them and no one else would know--

The thought is distracting enough that he doesn't pay attention to the first part of Izuku's words, too busy trying to keep himself from rolling his hips forward against the other boy's, to pushing them both towards a premature ending. It isn't until Izuku looks down, biting his lip, that Shouto manages to force his attention back to the other's words. And god, is he glad he did. I wanna watch you come undone...I want to give you something nobody else has. The breath leaves his lungs in a rush as an embarrassingly wanton whimper, a sound he does his best to bite back as the rest of the blood in his body seems to rush southward, leaving him shuddering under Izuku's touch.

He doesn't entirely trust his voice to come out as anything resembling actual speech, but he can probably manage at least one or two words. A hand cups the side of Izuku's face, thumb gently nudging his face upward, coaxing him into looking at Shouto again. He's not sure what exactly his expression must look like; he knows he's flushed, pupils dilated, lips parted as he licks them, as he breathes one word, then another.

"Please...Izuku--"

He's pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second or two at Shouto calling him cute in such a passing fashion-- he did most things as though they were secondary thoughts, even when Izuku was well aware they were intentional, and it startled his heartbeat into a stuttered pause that had him sucking in a startled gasp.

It's the whimper, he thinks, that pushes him to act, and the breathless way he says please, even if that comes as he's already rolled himself, legs hooked around Shouto's knees, to perch on his hips. He doesn't stop there, grinding downward into him from the new position and letting his back arch, reaching behind him to steady himself against Shouto's thigh.

"Definitely... not gonna say no when you ask like that." His voice has gone all back to gravel, his eyes darkened with the sheer want of his body, and he keeps a slow, shallow movement of his hips going. "'m... probably just gonna keep going, now," his explanation is distracted, his eyes half-closed, but it's important to him that he tell Shouto his intentions, even as he's still deciding them.

Someday he'll learn to actually be more emotive. It's just taking him some time to get beyond the years and years of learned responses, the instinctive urge to keep everything internalized. Izuku's learned to read him pretty well despite all that, at least, and honestly at this juncture Shouto's probably showing much more than anyone would expect him to be capable of. Then again, this is definitely hot enough to melt some of that icy exterior, isn't it? Especially as Izuku rolls them both, pressing Shouto down into the mattress, and Shouto struggles to catch his breath with a gasp as Izuku deliberately grinds against him.

The angle is even better as he leans back; not just the way it feels, but honestly the way Izuku looks--the line of his muscled torso, the arch of his spine, the way his arms tense and curl as he braces himself against Shouto's thigh. That rhythm he's finding is good, too; it's not enough, not nearly enough, but that's kind of nice in its own way. If it were harder, faster, he's pretty sure he wouldn't last long--not that he's going to anyway, not with Izuku looking like that--and he doesn't want this to be over yet.

Every breath is a ragged whine as he fights to stay in control of himself, his hands finding their way up Izuku's thighs to his hips, holding him steady. It feels so good like this, and Izuku's expression is mirrored on Shouto's face, eyes half closed and lips parting as he rolls his own hips upward into the other boy, a moan escaping him as he does. "Good," he manages, in between breaths. "Don't stop--mmn--"

Lust is a funny thing, Izuku is learning, as is discovering an intense attraction to someone you've never considered more than a close friend up until mere hours ago, and it fuels heat in his veins and keeps his hips moving, slowly adding more strength to the downward thrusts of them to amplify the pressure between them. Shouto is right in thinking it's not enough, but Izuku shares his interest in maintaining where they are, at least for a moment.

"God, Shou--" It's something in the way Shouto just lets himself talk, unguarded and for his ears only, the way he shifts up into him so they meet halfway, so the friction is that much sharper, the time their bodies spend apart shorter. "Don't think I could even if I wanted to," he breathes, bracing his other hand against Shouto's other thigh, and shifting to slot their bodies together tighter still, angling himself so he's perched neatly between the heterochromic boy's thighs. It's still just shy of enough pressure and contact, and he knows it would still get them both off, but it could be better, and ever the problem-solver that he is, Izuku leans backward and extends one hand, moving it from Shouto's thigh. "Give... me your hands?"

It really is, isn't it? If you had told him even this morning just how this day was going to end, he would have looked at you like you were crazy and maybe asked you which classmate's fanfiction you'd been reading. And yet, here they were. Mostly naked, grinding against one another, well on their way to being much more than just close friends. Probably. They should...eventually talk about that, right? Later. Much later.

Right now, Shouto's not even thinking about any of that. He's not thinking much at all, in fact, lost to sensation and the incredibly hot sight of Izuku on top of him, the sound of the other boy all but moaning his name as he shifts, seeking a better angle. They could definitely both get off just like this, but honestly if Izuku's got ideas, Shouto is not going to say no. With a squeeze of his hands to Izuku's hips, he reaches up to take the other boy's without a question. Whatever he's got planned, Shouto's here for it, one hundred percent. "Here--what...?" Does he need to move? He can. All Izuku has to do is say the word.

Listen, they could talk about their friendship becoming more like skinship after they helped each other to the best orgasms of their teenage lives. That was the natural progression of things, right? Of course. Izuku grunts softly, grabbing Shouto's hand and pulling himself forward, then reaching for his other and supporting himself by his upper arms alone for a moment, squirming until he managed to turn partly sideways and kick one leg up and over Shouto's so he was slotted against him at more of an angle.

It meant for a lot more specific contact, and his breath caught in a gasp as he ground down into him from the new angle.

"God-- ffffffhh," he didn't quite swear, but almost. "Is-- is that okay...?" His tone was desperate, because he could practically feel himself careening to the edge of his sanity, but he needed Shouto's okay to keep at it.

Edited 2019-11-12 06:03 (UTC)

Oh, absolutely. Totally natural. Exactly how this works. Probably. And if it isn't, like hell is he gonna stop now. Because honestly? This feels really bizarrely natural, too, in its way. Muscles flex in Shouto's arms as he helps steady Izuku while he shifts, although they nearly give out entirely as the other boy finds his angle and Shouto nearly comes apart right then and there.

Izuku's words are echoed by a groan from Shouto's lips, his back arching slightly as he's briefly overcome with sensation. Okay?? Okay isn't even the half of it. Okay would imply that he's not about to come in his underwear right then and there. A frantic nod begins before Izuku even finishes the words, Shouto's eyes reflecting more than a little of that frantic need as he squeezes Izuku's fingers, lacing one set of hands together and reaching for words. "Don't stop," he manages, breathy and almost desperate with what he can feel building in him. "Don't stop, Izuku, please--"

He'll forgive him for not lasting very long at all, won't he?? Hopefully he will. Not much avoiding it, at this point.

"Okay-- okay--" Izuku chants, his hips rocking of their own accord even before he's gotten Shouto's desperate pleas to continue. He's scant moments from losing it, himself, they both are, and he knows it, but-- He's determined to push Shouto over the edge first, to make sure he's taken care of. "Don't-- I won't stop, but o-only--" His expression contorts, and he makes a soft warbling moan of a sound that stops his thought briefly, eyes scrunched closed. The effort of containing your youthful libido sure was something, wasn't it? "--only if you don't hold back," he manages a moment later, tone clipped and voice gravel, and he shifts to release one of Shouto's hands and set the other at the back of his knee.

"Shouto," he breathes, shifting to rock more against his thigh for a moment. "I'm-- H-hold onto something," Something, meaning something other than him, probably.

Only if you don't hold back. Those words have an entirely new meaning in this context, don't they? He can hear the trembling desperation in Izuku's voice, the way he stumbles over words as his body moves seemingly without any direction from him, and Shouto shifts one leg to give himself a little more traction in turn, reaching behind him with his free hand to clutch at the pillow behind his head. Their rhythm is less rhythm and more urgency now, but he does his best to join Izuku, breath coming in ragged gasps and heaves as he rolls his hips up into that amazingly delicious contact, friction and heat adding and compounding to the coiling tightness building low in him, like a spring on the verge of release.

"Me too," he gasps, a reply almost bitten off in the wake of another breathless whine. "Me too, Izuku, I'm going to--god--"

Maybe it was a little inevitable that he not last very long at all this time, but it still feels like something of a surprise as the climax rolls over him with a full-throated moan, a shuddering rush that drives all conscious thought from his mind and leaves him seeing stars even as it soaks his underwear through, leaving him a shivering mess clutching Izuku's hand.

More than a little bit, that's for sure. That seemed to sum up their friendship pretty well, though, even bleeding into this sort of behavior-- building each other up, Izuku in particular making sure to push Shouto beyond boundaries neither of them were consciously aware of. The rising urgency in Shouto's tone just about sets Izuku's blood on fire, and that breathless whine of a sound sends a downright dangerous spike of heat into the tightening coil behind his belly button.

"Go on," he urges quietly, his tone almost a growl, and then all at once the sticky dampness between them pulls his spine taut and his vision whites out as he follows Shouto over. He makes nearly no sound, just tightening his grip on both his hand and the fold of his knee, a choked gasp the only auditory confirmation of his addition to the mess.

Even in the midst of his haze, he can feel the way Izuku jerks, that hot dampness spreading even further between them, and it's enough to make him shudder even more, muscles tightening and releasing as he gasps for breath, riding the crest of that wave. God. It's never been that intense before. Not once, no matter how he did it, no matter what he was thinking of, and he bites back another whine as it occurs to him that this is all he's going to be thinking about from now on any time he gets the urge to stick his hand down his shorts and relieve some tension. The feeling of Izuku on top of him, that low, commanding tone of voice urging him onward--if he hadn't just gotten off, he'd be ready to go again. Would it be rude to ask if Izuku wants to do it again?

The thoughts running through his head are delirious, half-formed things. Only one manages to fully emerge and become action: lifting his hand from his pillow, Shouto props himself up on his elbows and reaches up, tugging Izuku down into a breathless kiss. 'Thanks for the orgasm' seems a little rude, but...well, here they are anyway. Maybe Izuku will appreciate his meaning regardless.

Izuku does, in fact, appreciate the meaning. He's malleable as Shouto pulls him down, and hums in a pleased, lazy way as he returns the kiss, uncoordinated as it is. After scant seconds he's giggling, the sound something like a windchime, and draws away because kissing while smiling is actually kind of hard. Instead, he ducks his head under Shouto's jawline and just leans there, bathing in the afterglow.

"That... at risk of sounding like bad erotica, was awesome." Did he just admit to reading erotica?

He likes the sound of that him, just like he likes the feeling of Izuku's lips on his, the way that giggle vibrates against his chest, making him feel entirely warm and content. He did that. They did that, together.

He's smiling, too, as Izuku pulls away, and wraps an arm around the other boy's shoulders as he lays back down, pulling Izuku in to his side. Eventually they're gonna have to clean up, it's gonna get cold and sticky and gross, but...just for a minute, he wants to bask in this glow. "Mm, yeah," he answers, and there's that same lazy warmth in Shouto's voice as his fingers draw patterns on Izuku's bare shoulder. "Very awesome. We should do it again." Did he say that out loud? He did. He did, and he doesn't regret it in the slightest. Leaning his head against Izuku's, Shouto glances sideways at him briefly, wondering despite himself. "I mean--if you want to." Maybe he wouldn't?? Crazier things have happened.

Izuku barks a sudden laugh at that, breaking out of Shouto's loose grip around his shoulders to sit up with a feisty grin.

"Ohh? You liked it that much? Who in their right mind would turn down another round with UA's Class 1-A most eligible bachelor, Todoroki Shouto? Not this pleb, I can tell you that," he crows softly, riding high on the winds of their cooling stickiness.

On that note, though, sitting up produces a sort of unpleasant squish of a feeling and his expression pinches, making him look down.

"...but, uh. This time let's get our boxers off before we come, yeah?"

He loves that laugh, and that grin, and the way Izuku looks so animated, teasing him without a single trace of a stutter or hesitation. Maybe that's why it's so easy for him to relax, too, actually making a face when Izuku calls him '1-A's most eligible bachelor', wrinkling his nose and scrunching his eyebrows. Would you look at that, Todoroki Shouto is actually capable of expressions. "I mean, you could say no," he starts, nudging Izuku gently with an elbow, a small, startlingly sly smile slowly breaking through that look. "But I really think you'll enjoy saying yes more."

Although--yeah, that is kind of a gross feeling, isn't it? With a sigh, Shouto stretches fully, much like a cat, and as he uncurls he reaches down, sliding from his underwear without any shyness or hesitation, using the fabric to begin at least the very basics of cleanup. Not like they can get more ruined, after all. "Mm, that's definitely a better idea. I'm already going to have to borrow a pair from you before I go back to my room...Do you have a towel or something?"

"Did you-- did you just make a sour grape face at me?" That expression is hardly lost on Izuku-takes-notes-in-his-sleep-Midoriya, and he leans down real close to Shouto's face, grinning so hard his eyes crease at the corners. "You need to make faces more often, jeez, your constant deadpan is misleading." He's giggling again, still higher than he knows what to do with from the rush of-- well, everything, right now. He's high on how much he cares about Shouto, he's high on endorphins and everything else that comes with a stunning orgasm, and he's especially high on that sly smile as it forms on his face.

He bites his lip, grinning crookedly and looking quite terribly coy. "You know me better than that, I think," he says, and he would absolutely have gotten hard again right there had he not literally soiled himself with ejaculate moments prior. He gives Shouto a bit of perhaps unwanted modesty as he scoots out of his boxers, keeping his attention on his face and nodding, stretching out and away and hooking one thumb on his own boxers as he goes. He's a little shier about it, scooting backward and out of them but keeping them bunched up over his spent goods as he moves back toward Shouto (still pointedly not taking inventory) with a box of tissues. "Not a towel, but I've got some tissues for the minute. There's towels in the bathroom, if you want."

He folds inward just enough to look bashful, shoulders bunched up around his ears and posture generally guarded, but an easy enough smile on his face. He's not uncomfortable, not by any means, but he's maybe a little anxious about being fully nude with one of his closest friends whom he happens to have just had a wild mutual wanking session with. Not exactly how he would have expected to spend his Sunday.

"No idea what you're talking about. What face? I didn't make a face." Not very convincing when he's still smiling, is it? But that's fine, too. The thrum of endorphins is still coursing through his veins, and Shouto's enjoying the feeling. Maybe it's not such a terrible idea to relax and just let go once in a while. Maybe it's easier to consider with Izuku.

Speaking of--Izuku doesn't look as Shouto slides his underwear off, and he seems to make a point of covering himself, so Shouto follows suit, not about to make him more uncomfortable. However, he's also not going to let Izuku pull too far back at this juncture in time or get too lost in his head again. Not after what they've just shared. No regrets about it, right?

"Tissues are fine for now," he answers, taking the box from Izuku and setting aside his soiled shorts. It only takes a moment and a few tissues to finish cleaning himself up enough to be comfortable, and as soon as that's done, he's turning back to Izuku, pushing his hair back out of his face as he sits up, not shy in the slightest about his state of undress.

"You okay?"

"You so did," he says lightly, taking note of the pretty immediate shift in posture from him. He smiles, a fond little gooey expression of a thing, hugging his knees toward his chest to expel a bit of nervous energy. He keeps his eyes on them as Shouto cleans himself up, tangling his ankles up and piling his feet on top of one another. He still doesn't look specifically uncomfortable, maybe just a little nervous, but the entire time that same smile stays glued to his features.

As Shouto sits up he lifts his head and the smile fades, though not for any specific loss of happiness-- he's just... stunned. His expression goes mostly slack, watching him sit up and push his hair back like that, watching how comfortable and mellow he looks, and realizing that somewhere along the line he'd leapt directly over caring about him as a friend, and barreled pretty headlong into falling the fuck in love with him. His breath catches and he nods, chirping a quiet "Yeah," under his breath and sitting forward on his knees to reach out.

He doesn't hesitate like he might normally, reaching right to him and threading one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, scritching blunted fingernails there gently and letting another soft smile melt his features.

"...yeah, I'm great." And also gay. "Um, I-- before... Before we do anything else, maybe... I feel like we should... figure some stuff out." Oh, so it looked like maybe he wanted to determine boundaries and what they were before they had another wank session.

He feels a tiny touch of concern seeing the way Izuku balls himself up like that--ankles crossed, arms wrapped around his knees, like he's shielding himself--but the smile on his face is reassuring enough that it's only a touch. Maybe he's just nervous. That would be totally understandable, considering everything.

And nerves are also what he writes that following expression off as. The way Izuku's face goes slack, the way his smile fades as he stares at Shouto, eyes a brilliant green. He's got such pretty eyes. Those eyes, and the freckles that don't just sprinkle his cheeks, but cover the rest of him, too. Shouto might be staring just a little in return, a strange fluttering in his chest, eyes soft as he tilts his head almost in question. Not in question is how he's going to respond to Izuku moving towards him, though. Of course that's welcomed, encouraged, and Shouto runs his hand along Izuku's arm, leaning into the reassuring stroke of fingernails against the nape of his neck. It feels so nice. Not just the touch; all of this. That smile on Izuku's face, the contact, the closeness. How could he feel nervous about any of this?

"....Right."

Ah. That's how. Shouto's heart does a small somersault as Izuku says those words. Right right. Figure some stuff out. Because...well, that's probably a good idea. Nothing to be nervous about. It makes sense, after all.

Shouto's smile fades a little, a more serious look sliding onto his face as he watches the other boy. Fingers trace small patterns on his bicep as he considers a moment, unwilling to give up the small contact even as they're talking about this.

"So--where do you want to start? I know we're both guys, so--that might be a little weird for you, I guess." Maybe? He doesn't know. He's sort of making this up as he goes along.

It's more reflex than it is specifically defensive, at least. He's spent so much time constantly having to default to defensive action because he had no offense that he doesn't even think about it when it comes to moments of a more exposing nature. But he crawls out of it easily enough when he moves forward, and when he settles again his posture is only slightly more open-- he's not folded in on himself, though mostly because being as close to Shouto he can't, really. Instead, he lays his legs to the side so they're hip to hip, and keeps his hand in his hair. Shouto's fingers tracing against his skin definitely make him shiver, just slightly, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up while the rest of him breaks out in goosebumps, but he laughs anyway.

"Doesn't matter that we're both guys," he explains immediately. "I've never really cared about that, like... L--" He stops, clearing his throat and going red from his neck to his ears at realizing he almost just claimed Love is Love, and what a bomb that would be to drop. "Like who you like, your sexual and gender identity shouldn't really matter." Wow, okay, not a bad save, but now he's gonna be flustered the rest of this conversation. "I definitely like you a lot, I'm definitely attracted to you, um, I... guess that accounts for both romantic and sexual allure? Wow this is embarrassing."

He's not sure what exactly Izuku was about to say, or why he stumbles over his words, but he's too busy focusing on what he actually does say to question it--right now, at least. Maybe later he'll mull it over. Maybe later he'll think about other words that start that way, other things that could have been said, but for now, he's only going to focus on what's actually said. After all, he's still saying plenty, isn't he?

The press of hip to hip is nice, if a touch distracting, and Shouto's hand wanders up towards Izuku's shoulder as he listens, fingertips exploring his upper back, the shape of his shoulder blades. "I feel the same way. That is--" It's not exactly fair if he just says that, is it? If he just echoes him. Izuku should hear it. Shouto doesn't look away, eyes still strangely soft as he watches Izuku fumble his way through.

"I like you. A lot. As more than just friends. I think maybe I have for a while, even if I didn't know what exactly it was. And this--I really enjoyed what we just did. So, I guess..." He trails off briefly, biting at his lip as he searches for the correct way to say this, eventually opting for his usual blunt honesty.

"I want to do that again, but I think I'd like to do other things, too. Like--with our clothes still on." There's a hint of a smile on his lips, the smallest trace of uncertainty. "I've never been on a date before, but--I wouldn't mind trying it, with you. If you want to."

The color that creeps across nearly all of his upper half is stark against the constellation of freckles dotting his skin and the green of his hair, and for a moment Midoriya Izuku bluescreens entirely, his brain melting down his spinal cord and spilling into a puddle beneath them. His mouth falls open and he balks, and his eyes get hot but he reigns himself in-- he's done more than enough crying through this whole ordeal. It's instinctive, at this point, but he closes his eyes and sucks in a sharp breath, pulling away only enough to smudge his hand over his eyes.

"For someone who got into UA on recommendations, you sure have a startlingly blunt way of saying things," he laughs, curling inward but smiling up over his hand. His eyes are still glassy, for sure, but that's just something Shouto will have to get used to. This is a particularly soggy steamed vegetable. "But... I'd like that. To do more things with you. With and without clothes."

Fortunately, after all the crying Izuku has done this afternoon amongst all of their other activities, Shouto is at least semi-prepared for the way the other boy goes all wide-eyed and watery, grabbing at his face and rubbing at his eyes, and he doesn't turn away or panic, instead letting his hand slide down the center of Izuku's back to rest at his waist and giving him a moment to pull himself together. Not that he's tired of Izuku's tears, or annoyed by it, or anything like that. This is just the kind of person Izuku is, and he likes Izuku a lot, which means...well, he'll wait. He can be patient.

Izuku doesn't cry, though; he's a little watery, but he's laughing, smiling as he answers Shouto. "I'm not sure what being blunt has to do with it, but I don't know. It's hard enough doing this kind of thing without just...saying what you mean. Or what I mean. I like you a lot. You should know that. And I want to do more with you. So I'm asking." Isn't that what you're supposed to do? Is there some other way to go about it?? This is the only way he can figure that makes any sense at all. But...hey, it's still a yes. Leaning over, Shouto places a soft kiss against Izuku's jawline, letting his lips linger there for a long moment.

"But...I'm glad you feel the same way."

He tilts his head just enough to the side to let Shouto have access to more than just his jaw if he likes, closing his eyes and continuing to smile.

"You're a lot more straightforward than I am," he mumbles, squirming closer to him again and mirroring his gesture by looping one arm around his hips. He's still a little bashful about looking him over, now that they're naked, and his ears go a little darker red. "...but, I've got a really dumb embarrassing question for you, actually."

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uses this icon because it's mostly fitting this time

I need more porny icons tbh

i'm slowly working on more i got u fam

Ur the best boo

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