Archive of Our Own ^beta

Midoriya Izuku had a crush. 

Not a tiny crush, either. Not a little, negligible infatuation, or a flighty feeling of attraction. No, this was a big, fat, get-in-the-way sort of crush, the kind that makes your stomach do backflips and your heart start thundering at anything that might vaguely resemble their voice. 

Now, you must be thinking, I bet Izuku has interacted with this person before. I bet they have had real, actual conversations. I bet this person knows that Izuku exists. 

That wasn’t exactly the case.

See, Todoroki Shouto wasn’t the kind of person Izuku was supposed to have a crush on. Todoroki was the youngest detective that the Yuuei Division of Civil Protection had ever had, and it wasn’t just because his father was a big name upstairs. No, Todoroki was smart as a whip, graduating high school and college at the top of his class and making a name in the civil security world before he turned twenty-three, with a degree in Criminal Law and a passion for justice. He was capable beyond belief, head and shoulders above his peers in every physical assessment that upper management threw at him. Not even mentioning the fact that he was stupidly handsome, with heterochromatic eyes, split-colored hair, and an intimidating facial scar. 

Now, it’s fair to say that Midoriya Izuku was also smart, but they were not the same kind of smart. Izuku was not smart in a top of the class at Yale way. He was smart in the graduate high school at sixteen and spent summers at the comic book store type of way. He mumbled a lot, even when he really tried not to. He could factor polynomials in his head. He had memorized every element of the periodic table and could recite their uses and properties by rote. 

They were both single, sure—but Todoroki was single in the way that pro athletes and top models were single. The kind of single that came from being too good to date the rest of the plebeians (Izuku included). Izuku’s kind of single came from being a little too short, a little too annoying, a little too smart. A little too everything. 

It should really come as no surprise to anyone that Todoroki, detective extraordinaire, had never met, seen, or heard of Izuku, CSI hermit/recluse/loser—and Izuku was very happy to keep it that way, thank you very much. Glimpses on the news of Todoroki giving a report to the city and voices drifting down the hall discussing new cases were all that Izuku needed to keep his infatuation alive and thriving; and thrive it did. 

Izuku didn’t want to meet Todoroki. He didn’t want to break the spell of ignorance that coated his infatuation. 

Because, see, he knew that if he ever actually managed to meet Todoroki, things wouldn’t go the way they did in his fantasies. Todoroki wouldn’t swoon over his chubby cheeks and hoist him up like that scene from Dirty Dancing, nor would he confess that he, too, had been watching Izuku from afar all these years. More likely, Todoroki wouldn’t even glance at him until Izuku did something stupid, like spill his coffee, or accidentally trip into a mud puddle, or unknowingly insult his dead dog. 

Invariably and unquestionably, something horribly embarrassing and awful would happen, so it was better to just… not let anything happen. 

Sure, he had to accompany detectives on crime scene investigations all the time. That was his job, after all. He just… happened to slip the reports with Todoroki’s name on them onto Uraraka’s desk. Or maybe Iida. Asui got along with him well enough. 

Izuku wasn’t slacking, though—he would never. He picked up extra jobs with the other detectives, like the effortlessly clever Yaoyorozu Momo, or, most often, his childhood friend/tormentor/eternal rival, Bakugou Katsuki. 

All of his coworkers in the CSI lab had been smart enough to catch on quickly, though he had never been directly called out on it, something he was eternally grateful for. 

Izuku would drop Todoroki’s missing persons case onto Iida’s stack of files as he went to refill his coffee and by the time he returned, Yaoyorozu’s armed robbery case lay open on his own desk. 

It was a good system. It worked. He didn’t have the opportunity to embarrass himself in front of the guy of his dreams (and fantasies), and he could make steps at breaking down the wall between him and Bakugou and build a friendship with Yaoyorozu at the same time. 

Izuku believed that the system was solid. 

Izuku believed that the system was foolproof. 

Izuku was wrong. 

—————

Monday had been looking to be a good day. 

His summons (after a not-so-subtle case trade) were to a park downtown for a murder investigation with Yaoyorozu. Normally, a call to go stare at a charred corpse for hours at a time would put a damper on his mood, but he was too excited to experience the nice weather to really mind. 

Uraraka was set to work with Todoroki that day. Despite the fact that he’d been the one who’d slipped the case file onto her desk, Izuku still felt a little flicker of jealousy at the thought—and Uraraka knew it. 

They’d met in university and hit it off right away, just two short nerds against the world. They’d grown close enough that, by their final year, Uraraka had known immediately when Izuku had started harboring a bit of a crush on the new detective at the agency downtown, though she was kind enough to never push him about it. Not even when he insisted they work there together, or when he subsequently hid behind her whenever he saw a flash of red and white in the halls. 

He finally came clean one night after a few too many glasses of wine, about a year into their employment. 

Uraraka had already guessed, of course, but she remained supportive and kind about the whole thing, always redirecting the conversation when Todoroki came up around others and subtly conveying his desire to never work with the detective when both Iida and Asui started work. 

Izuku still wasn’t quite sure what they believed the story was, but he wasn’t going to explain if he didn’t have to. 

Of course, even months later, Uraraka would still try and convince him to just try one case together, Izuku, I’m sure you’d hit it off! 

But he brushed her off every time and, eventually, she dropped the subject altogether. 

Still, it was nice just to have someone to complain to. 

Slipping on his bomber with his surname and CSI labelled across the back, he waved in farewell to his friends and darted out the door, shucking his messenger bag over his shoulder. 

The walk to the park was a nice change of pace from the dark labs he had grown accustomed to. Izuku kept his hands in pockets as he crossed the busy streets, dodging citizens and tourists alike. 

The park was overgrown and didn’t seem like a very child friendly place, if he was being perfectly honest. That was probably for the best, however. He winced at the thought of a kid finding the corpse he was sure to get a good look at soon.  

Izuku could see the crowd of people around one of the benches, though he couldn’t pick out Yaoyorozu’s iconic ponytail yet. He took a deep breath and approached, feigning confidence he didn’t quite have as he flashed his badge and ducked under the achingly familiar yellow tape before he could think twice. 

Yikes. 

The guy really was burned to a crisp. 

All that remained were a pair of high top sneakers, similar enough to his own that Izuku couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a glance down at the red shoes on his own feet to check for scorch marks. Snapping on a pair of gloves from his back pocket, Izuku made his way over without making eye contact with any of the detectives or police men. He crouched down silently beside what remained of the body and swiped a finger over the rubber sole of the shoe, investigating it closely before rubbing the soot between his finger and thumb. 

The ash was accumulating mostly on the bench seat and the ground under it, just piles of black soot and bone fragments. Izuku suppressed a gag as he pulled out a piece of something that might have been a femur, given its placement. Absently, he registered voices behind him discussing putting up a tarp, to shield from both the wind and the prying eyes of the public. 

“Find anything interesting?” 

Izuku froze, bone fragment between his fingers. His blood ran cold as his heart started pounding into overdrive. 

Oh, God. He was going crazy, wasn’t he?. He was hearing voices that weren’t there. 

Because Todoroki wasn’t behind him.

Todoroki wasn’t working this case. 

Slowly, Izuku turned his head, his gaze falling first on shiny black shoes and travelling up, up, up, past well-fitted pants and rolled up sleeves until it finally met two different colored eyes. 

Todoroki was behind him. 

Todoroki was working this case. 

Which god had he angered? Which deity had he committed some grievance against to put him in this situation?

“You aren’t Yaoyorozu,” Izuku said stupidly, his voice only shaking a smidge. 

“No,” Todoroki agreed bluntly. He crouched down to Izuku’s level, poking at the shoes with a gloved hand of his own. Izuku was about to pass out. “Momo came down with something this morning, so they called me in. Gave my case to Bakugo, I think. He didn’t have anything to do today, anyway.” The way he spoke was simple, but left no room for argument. 

“Why- Uh, why didn’t they just call Kacchan in for this case, then?” Izuku asked, just a little bit desperate. 

Todoroki raised his eyebrows just a smidge at the nickname, only barely breaking his stoic expression, but then just hummed noncommittally. “I think my old man is paranoid about this case. He does that sometimes. Gets all in his head about how, only you can solve this, Shouto,” he said, lowering his voice in a mocking tone. 

Izuku could do nothing but stare at Todoroki as he let the conversation fizzle, instead  just watched as Todoroki moved to sift through a stray pile of ash with a finger, as if he was looking for something. 

Midoriya Izuku was having a conversation with Todoroki. 

Todoroki Shouto. 

This was happening in real life. 

Izuku subtly pinched his thigh, just in case. 

“Ah,” Todoroki whispered in a desolate sort of monotone, bringing Izuku back to the present. He’d pulled a shiny metal ring from out of the ash, just a simple golden band. A wedding ring. 

How depressing. 

Izuku nodded in response to the unspoken statement. Given the state of the body (or rather, lack of body), facial recognition software, fingerprinting, and dental records were all off the table for ID. They’d have to find his identity the old fashioned way. 

Holding out his palm and trying not to think about the embarrassing implications of asking the Todoroki Shouto for a ring, Izuku’s mind started to race. When Todoroki dropped the band in his palm, Izuku immediately held it up to his eye, the sun glinting off it’s shiny surface. 

“Mmm... The ring is completely intact, not even a hint of warping—not surprising, seeing as the melting point of gold is one thousand and sixty-four degrees Celsius, and I’d be surprised if the fire itself broke nine hundred, given the size of the bone fragments in the ash, but this cements that theory... This looks like a classic style, so we should probably start looking in a more family owned or classic type jeweler. Wear-and-tear on this thing… five years, give or take, and it’s definitely new enough to rule out a family heirloom. So, patrons of classic jewelers a minimum of four years ago who’ve been reported missing…” Izuku trailed off to see Todoroki looking at him, head tilted. If it wasn’t so unbelievable, Izuku would have said that there was a hint of amusement in his mismatched eyes. 

Immediately, Izuku felt his ears start to flush bright red, thrusting the ring out in front of him and bowing his head. 

“I’m so sorry! I mumble a lot, I tend to do that without realizing, even though Kacchan always says I need to stop, because it creeps people out, so... I am very sorry!” He yelled, cheeks burning. 

“It’s fine… Ah—what’s your name?” Todoroki asked, his head still tilted. 

Izuku prayed for an earthquake to split the ground below him and swallow him up. 

“M-Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. CSI,” he stammered, eyes turned to the ground. 

Who the hell are you, James Bond? Stop being so embarrassing! 

“Midoriya. Alright. I’m Todoroki Shouto,” he replied, nodding in acknowledgment. 

“I know! Ah, that sounded creepy—I mean, I’ve heard of you before, you’re… pretty famous around here… you know…” Izuku trailed off, wishing for death. 

“I can’t say the same about you. Are you new?” Todoroki asked, turning back to the ash. Izuku shook his head. 

“No, actually! I’ve, uh—I’ve been here for a few years now.”

The finger Todoroki was sifting through the ash paused briefly before continuing. “A few years… how have we not met, Midoriya?” 

Izuku simultaneously winced and shivered. It was sort of uncomfortable. 

“I-I don’t get out of the lab much, to be honest,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “And I mostly work with Kacchan when I do have to go to the crime scenes. I’m not great with… people. O-Or crowds… so Aizawa usually keeps me in the lab,” Izuku explained hurriedly. Todoroki just nodded. 

They spent the rest of the hour in awkward silence. Or, awkward on Izuku’s side, at least. Todoroki seemed perfectly content with the quiet, but Izuku was antsy, feeling simultaneously like he needed to say something worthwhile during his first (and last, if he could help it) interaction with his crush, but also overwhelmed with the crushing fear of saying something even more embarrassing than muttering about wedding rings. 

He ended up sticking with silence, seeing as it was the closest to his original plan of never speaking to him, ever, under any circumstances. 

“Midoriya,” Todoroki said suddenly, breaking the silence. Izuku jerked his head up in surprise, eyes wide. 

“Midoriya,” Todoroki repeated. “Someone is calling for you,” he said simply, gesturing over to the other side of the tape, where Bakugou Mitsuki stood, looking on the verge of a fist fight with one of the officers. 

“Oh, no,” Izuku groaned, standing up with a sheepish smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Todoroki nodded, turning back to the shard of plastic that he’d picked up a few minutes ago. 

Izuku jogged over, tugging off his gloves as he went and ducking under the tape easily. “Bakugou-san! What are you doing here?” 

“How many times have I told you to call me Mitsuki, Izuku-kun? Never mind that, this man is telling me that I can’t give you a damn cup of coffee! That’s all it is, Officer Shit-For-Brains! Coffee! C-o-f-f-e-e. Do you understand?” Mitsuki all but yelled at the poor man. 

“Bak—Uh, M-Mitsuki-san! Azumane-san is just doing his job, leave him be,” Izuku said placatingly. Mitsuki huffed as Izuku turned to the officer. “Azumane-san, this is Bakugou Katsuki’s mother, she brings me coffee or tea every now and again.”

Azumane looked stricken as he listened, presumably praying for an early death before he saw Bakugou Katsuki again. 

Mitsuki tapped her foot impatiently as she held out the paper cup, which Izuku took with a nod of thanks. 

“You better let me through next time, Officer Shit-Head,” Mitsuki hissed. In a split second, she dropped her killer expression and turned to face Izuku, ruffling his hair affectionately. 

“I was just in the neighborhood, Izuku-kun, but I figured I could remind you to get on Katsuki’s case about dinner. Tell him he can bring Eijirou if he wants… and maybe you’ll bring someone this time, too?” She asked, eyebrows raising with an obvious glance at the still-focused Todoroki. 

When Izuku just balked at her, she leaned forward and grabbed his cheek, pinching it and jostling his face around. 

“Lead detective, Izuku-kun, that’s a big catch! Good luck!” 

“N-No! No, no, no, no, absolutely not, that wouldn’t happen in… a million years . No way! Goodbye, Mitsuki-san! Bye! Goodbye!” Izuku yelled as he pushed her hand off of his face and turned sharply on his heel, marching away in time with her cackling. 

He was so focused on walking away, however, that he didn’t notice the officer walking straight into his path. 

“Shit!” Izuku swore as burning hot coffee splashed down his front. “Shit, shit, shit!” 

Dammit. This was exactly what he had been afraid of. Making a complete and utter fool of himself in front of the most capable, put together man he’d ever met. 

“This coffee is like fucking lava!” Izuku muttered under his breath, shrugging off his jacket to rid himself of the ruined sweater he had been wearing, leaving him in nothing but jeans and a thin undershirt. The cool spring air that had been so nice earlier made him shiver now. His undershirt was also flecked with coffee, but he wasn’t about to go shirtless in front of the entire staff. 

“Damn… Are you okay?” He asked the officer he’d run into. Tezuka, a rookie, if he remembered correctly. 

“Yeah, yeah, you totally missed me. It’s all… on you,” Tezuka replied awkwardly. Izuku grimaced and folded his sweater over one arm, glaring down at the stains on his shirt. 

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t ruin your shirt, too,” Izuku reasoned with a sigh, running an anxious hand through his hair. He felt… exposed, standing there in just a t-shirt, surrounded by expensive coats and suit jackets. 

“...Midoriya?” 

Izuku whirled around to see Todoroki standing no less than two feet away from him, hands in his pockets and face flushed—which, if he’d had the space in his mind to ponder it, was weird, because if anyone should have been pink-cheeked from the cold, it really should’ve been Izuku. 

“T-Todoroki-san!” Izuku yelped. He looked once between the well-dressed man before him and the coffee stains on his own undershirt and promptly sprinted out of the park. 

—————

“Izuku—Oh, my God, are you alright?” Uraraka asked with a slight gasp as Izuku stepped into the lab, face flushed from running, coffee still damp on his shirt, and shame heavy in his heart. 

“Where’s the tallest building around here?” Izuku asked with a groan as he slumped into his seat, banging his head against the desktop for good measure before he wrapped his arms around himself. 

“I’m not sure… Why?” Uraraka asked from somewhere beyond the safety of the crook of Izuku’s elbow. “Is it for your case?” 

“No. I’m jumping off.”

“Don’t say that, Izuku,” Uraraka scolded. “What happened?” 

Izuku just groaned miserably in response, burying his face further into his arm. 

“Was your case bad? It was with Yaoyorozu, wasn’t it? Oh, was she being insensitive about money again? Izuku, you know she doesn’t mean it that way,” Uraraka said as she began rubbing soothing circles into Izuku’s back. 

“Yaoyorozu called in sick today,” Izuku stated quietly, the sound muffled. 

Uraraka paused for a moment. “So, you had to work with Bakugou. I thought things were getting better between you two?” 

Izuku finally lifted his head. He barely saw the way Uraraka flinched at the look of complete despondency on his face, too busy being miserable.

“Kacchan wasn’t working on my case today.” 

He watched as Uraraka processed the words, then looked down at the coffee stains, then back at Izuku’s face. 

“He didn’t show up to my—but I just assumed… Oh, Izuku,” she whispered as Izuku dropped his head back on the table, then lifted it back up and dropped it again. He repeated that motion a few times, only absently registering the lingering pain in his forehead. 

“Pardon if this isn't our place to ask, but… are you alright, Midoriya?” Iida asked softly, somehow having moved from his desk to Izuku’s without his noticing. 

“He had to work a case with Todoroki, and..” Uraraka trailed off, gesturing at the ruined shirt. 

“And you… You do not enjoy working with Detective Todoroki, do you Izuku-chan?” Asui asked, a finger on her chin. Izuku’s eyes widened. 

“No! No, no, no, I don’t dislike him! Not at all!” He said quickly. 

Iida and Asui shared matching looks of confusion. 

“But… We always take the cases that Detective Todoroki works on, and we give you those run by Detective Bakugou or Detective Yaoyorozu. I assumed this was because you two had bad blood,” Asui said questioningly. 

“No, we don’t have any blood! That… okay, that came out wrong. We’ve never met, is what I mean. It’s just… you explain.” Izuku waved a hand at Uraraka, who nodded knowingly. 

“When me and Izuku were in our last year in college, Todoroki started working at Yuuei. We would see him on the news sometimes and he came with his father to give a guest lecture in one of our college classes, once. Izuku… developed a bit of a crush.”

Izuku flushed and tried to plug his ears, but Uraraka’s voice still floated into his head. 

“So, we started working here, but Izuku got it into his head that if they ever met, he’d make a big fool of himself and Todoroki would… I don’t know, fire him, or beat him up or something. So we started trading jobs, and by the time they hired you two, it was just a given that we’d keep doing it.”

Uraraka paused. 

“And now, he thought he was working with Yaoyorozu today, but it was actually Todoroki, and…” she trailed off, and Izuku raised his head to see her gesture from him to finish the story. 

“I mumbled at him about wedding rings, got my cheek pinched by Kacchan’s mom, and spilled coffee all over myself. Then I ran away,” he deadpanned. 

The three of them winced in unison. 

“So you don’t hate Detective Todoroki,” Iida said. Izuku nodded. “But you refuse to work with him because you’re afraid you’ll make a fool of yourself.” Izuku nodded again. 

“Look on the bright side, Izuku. At least he saw you in something other than that sweater!” Uraraka offered brightly. Asui nodded in assent. 

“That is true, Izuku-chan. It helps your chances,” she said in her throaty voice. 

“What? Why?” Izuku asked, looking between the two girls in confusion. 

“Well…” Uraraka stared at the ground. “You’re fit, Izuku, you know that. Those big sweaters you always wear hide that.” 

“Are you saying that it was a good thing that Izuku was seen flouncing around in his underthings?” Iida asked dubiously. 

“Iida, it was a t-shirt. Not an… underthing. Besides, there was no flouncing, either! And those sweaters are comfortable!” Izuku replied defensively. Uraraka and Asui shared a knowing look. 

“Stop looking at each other like that! Can’t you all let me mourn my dignity in peace?” Izuku grumbled, shooing the three of them from his space as he pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m gonna go try and wash some of this out in the sink. And possibly drown myself if the opportunity arises.” 

“Wet shirt Izuku! I’m excited!”

“Stop it, Ochako!”

—————

Izuku stumbled into the lab the next morning in a half-daze, running purely on spite and three hours of sleep, max. 

“Good morning, Izuku!” Uraraka chirped from her desk. He gave her a half hearted wave as he set his stuff down and immediately spun on his heel, making a b-line down the hall for the coffee machine. 

He needed the caffeine—he’d been up all night trying to calm himself down from the verge of a panic attack at the mere thought of how badly he’d embarrassed himself in front of Todoroki. 

God, Todoroki must’ve thought he was such an idiot.  

The break room was blessedly empty when he arrived, though everyone on the entire floor knew better than to try and instigate a conversation with Izuku until he was at least on his second cup of caffeine. 

As he poured the barest dash of cream, mostly for appearances, he heard someone open the door. He ignored them for the most part, not even bothering to turn around. 

“Good morning, Midoriya.”

The voice sat in his foggy, sleep deprived mind, poking at him annoyingly. Something about that voice was special, but he was far too groggy to think about it, so he just gave a single nod in acknowledgement before taking his first sip of coffee. 

He nearly moaned at the bitter taste, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, letting the familiar heat burn a trail down his throat and into his chest. Already, he began to feel better, the anxiety of the previous night fading like sand slipping through his fingers. 

He let himself take another long sip before he turned around to head back to start his day, nodding at Todoroki and pulling the door—

Izuku seized up with one hand on the door as his foggy mind caught up with the situation.  

Todoroki was here, in the CSI break room, somewhere he was not supposed to be. Not because he was breaking any technical rules, but because Todoroki showing up in any of the places that Izuku frequented was like a tear in the space-time continuum. 

Oh, God. He’d ignored Todoroki, hadn’t he? When he had said good morning, Izuku had just nodded. Like an idiot.

Well, shit. 

“Good morning, Todoroki-san,” he managed to squeak, pulling his hand from the door knob and slowly turning around to face the man behind him. 

“Not a morning person, I take it,” Todoroki said, and though his voice was as plain and blunt as it always was, it was almost as if he were teasing. Izuku winced. 

“Er—no,” Izuku said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “Why are you… here?” 

“We found the victim’s name, so anything from the crime scene is yours, now. I figured I’d come tell you in person,” Todoroki explained. 

“Okay… but why are you… here. In the break room,” Izuku said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around it. Seeing Todoroki’s crisp white button up against the background of the horrid yellow walls was like sticking a magazine cut out on a renaissance painting. It just didn’t… fit. 

“You weren’t at your desk. Uraraka said you’d be here.”

Damn traitor. 

“Should I walk you back to the lab? That—That is where you’re going, right?” Todoroki asked, striding over to the door and pulling it open, gesturing into the hall. For some reason, he looked almost… nervous. 

Izuku couldn’t begin to fathom why. Maybe he had a meeting with his father later. 

Not trusting the sturdiness of his voice, he nodded and walked through the door, Todoroki falling in step beside him. 

Can he hear my heartbeat? I feel like he can. I know he can. No, no that’s not possible. But my breathing. I’m sure he can hear my breathing. It’s too fast. Shit, now it’s too slow. Too fast again. This isn’t working. In. Out. Out. Out. In. In. Out. In. Wow, that really isn’t helpful at all. What if he —

“Midoriya? You’re mumbling again,” Todoroki said quietly, yanking Izuku out of his spiraling. 

“O-Oh! Sorry about that. I know it’s weird, and you already had to deal with it yesterday—”

“It’s not weird,” Todoroki interrupted plainly. “I’m not… good with people either. I get it.”

Izuku stopped walking. Todoroki paused, too, only after realizing that he was a few feet ahead. He turned around to face Izuku, blinking curiously. 

“But—But you’re on the news. They interview you, and you’re always so… so put together, and you talk to the whole building and everyone always listens to you, and…” he trailed off, knowing he was grasping at straws. 

But really, Todoroki Shouto? Bad with people? Please. 

“I’m serious. My father set me on this path when I was young, so I never clicked with my schoolmates. I didn’t have any friends in high school. I was incredibly arrogant and blunt to a fault. I didn’t really have a true friend until I met Momo in college,” Todoroki replied quietly. 

“Really? You?” Izuku asked, still disbelieving. After all, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to befriend Todoroki Shouto? 

“Is that so difficult to believe?” Todoroki asked, tucking his hands into his pockets and gesturing with his head to keep walking. Izuku obliged with an awkward, stuttered couple of steps and they continued down the hall. “What about you?” 

“What about me?”

Todoroki chuckled, and Izuku wanted to bottle the sound. “That’s just it. What are you like? What’s your story?” 

“It’s not a very… exciting one,” Izuku warned. Todoroki just waited for him to continue, which Izuku did with a sigh. “I grew up with Kacchan—you know Kacchan, Bakugou Katsuki—as my next door neighbor. Both of us skipped two grades—first and second—so our friendship was more out of necessity than anything else, I guess. We went to the same college, too. We had to room together because no one else wanted to live with a sixteen year old. It sucked at first, but it was… a lot better by graduation.”

“I didn’t know you two were so… close,” Todoroki said, frowning just a little. 

Izuku waved it away with a dismissive hand, unsure as to why that would be displeasing to the detective. 

“Ah, it’s not a big deal. As I said, not very exciting.”

“On the contrary, Izuku, I think you’re very interesting,” Todoroki intoned, something in his voice sending the butterflies in Izuku’s stomach on a rampage. “We’re here. Those files should be on your desk.”

“R-Right! Thank you, Todoroki-san!” Izuku pushed the door open with a small, shy wave in farewell as Todoroki inclined his head. 

“My pleasure, Midoriya. Thank you for talking with me. And, if you would, drop the san, please. It makes me feel like my father. ”

All Izuku could do was nod, feeling like one of the bobblehead figurines he’d loved as a child. He watched for a moment as Todoroki strode back down the hall before pushing the door the rest of the way open and stepping inside, making wide eye contact with Uraraka, who was grinning. 

“You traitor! You sent him there! Before I’d had any coffee!” Izuku hissed, pointing at her accusatorially.

Uraraka lifted her hands in defense, her smile still wide and her eyes dancing. “He came down here looking for you! I couldn’t just send him away! What kind of wingman would that make me?”

“The kind I want you to be! The kind that tells him to go away and never speak to me again!”

Uraraka raised her eyebrows. “You don’t really want that.”

Izuku glared at her. 

“My pleasure, Midoriya. Thank you for talking with me. Please refer to me casually, so the transition to a first-name basis will be smoother once we fall in love,” Uraraka mocked in a sultry voice, drawing a giggle from Asui and a snort from Iida. 

“I will be completely honest, Midoriya. Todoroki-san did seem rather upset when you were not at your desk,” Iida chimed in. 

“I agree,” Asui said, nodding. 

Izuku stumbled to his desk, placing his coffee down and putting his head in his hands. 

“You guys are the worst. I’m never speaking to any of you ever again.” 

Uraraka sighed, pouting. “Izuku, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to help.” 

Izuku’s hands clenched into fists and his voice shook embarrassingly when he spoke again. “I don’t want your help. All you guys are going to do is get my hopes up, which I can’t afford. I mean, honestly, do you think someone like Todoroki would ever actually go for someone like me? I get that you’re trying to be nice, but… please, stop. You’ll just make it worse.” 

The room stayed silent for a few minutes. Izuku curled in further on himself.

“Izuku…”

“Don’t. Please, Ochako. I can’t handle your pity right now. Just… stop helping.” 

“...Alright, Izuku. If that’s what you want.”

—————

Izuku stared at the blood speckling the ground around the park bench like rain and sighed. This was the fourth victim in as many days, bouncing between being burnt to a crisp and stabbed to death and completely exsanguinated. 

There was no connection to them, other than simply seeming to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. There had been one man and three women, aged anywhere from twenty-one to fifty-three. No connections between families, no shared colleges or high schools. 

The one link between them was that they’d all been found on park benches. The perpetrator hadn’t struck the same park twice yet, but they all looked similar enough and stayed within the city limits. No eyewitnesses, no evidence. 

It was extraordinarily frustrating. 

“Anything caught your eye yet?” 

Izuku jumped and turned around to see Todoroki approaching, hands in his pockets in what seemed to be his signature pose. 

“Ah, n-no. Not really,” Izuku replied, still just as awkward around him three days later. Either Todoroki didn’t notice, or he was simply too polite to call him out on it, because he hadn’t said a word about Izuku’s blushing or stuttering. 

That didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though. 

Maybe it was Todoroki’s way of letting Izuku down easily. Despite what he’d said about not being good with people, he had to have had a crowd of suitors growing up. His looks alone were killer, but paired with the intelligence and subtle generosity? That right there was a one hit K.O.; Todoroki must’ve developed a way to deal with the affections thrown his way. 

I know you have a crush on me, but I will spare your pride by ignoring the glaringly obvious signs. You’re welcome. 

“Mmm. Shame,” Todoroki hummed down at the limp body, yanking Izuku out of his pity party. “No news on our end, either. I’m not sure there is a link to find. I think they might just have been unlucky enough to sit on the wrong bench at the wrong time. Anything to say about what started the fires?” 

“Not yet. I-I’m pretty sure they used some kind of flammable accelerant, because the fire from a match or a lighter really shouldn’t be enough to char someone to ashes like that. Even if they start it with the victims clothes, what’s preventing them from just taking the shirt off? But we can't find anything, because the victims are so burned that any trace of an accelerant is long gone…”

“Is that a no?” Todoroki replied, eyebrows raised as Izuku attempted to fold inward on himself.

“Yeah… n-nothing interesting, really,” Mirdoriya said quietly, eyes glued to the dirt path beneath his feet. 

“Alright. Well, it’s nearly dark now. I don’t think we can get anything else out of the scene without light, so if you’d like…” Todoroki trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the entrance to the park. Izuku just blinked, thoroughly confused, as he glanced between the detective and the gate he was pointing to. 

“O-Oh! Are you… Are you offering to walk me?” Izuku’s eyes widened as it hit him. “S-Sure! Just—Hold on, let me…” he trailed off, standing hurriedly. Trying to ignore the slight shake in his hands, he peeled his gloves off and tossed them in the trash, wiping his palms on his jeans. 

“Okay! Lead the way, detective!” Izuku declared, wincing inwardly at how awkward he sounded. Todoroki, ever the gentleman, was kind enough not to tease, instead just smiling a tiny little smile and starting to walk. 

“So, Midoriya,” Todoroki began after a minute or so of not-quite-awkward silence. “I’ve heard that you are quite close with the retired Detective Yagi,” he said, not really a question, but not just a statement, either. 

“Oh, yeah! He was sort of like a mentor to me in high school and university,” Izuku replied with a smile. “He was a bit like a father figure to me when I was younger. It’s a shame we never got to legally work together.”

Todoroki paused. “Legally…?”

“Uh, yeah,” Izuku chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “He was sort of the reason that I wanted to work in crime, and when I told him that, sometimes he would slip me active cases that the Yuuei detectives were stuck on, and I’d help him out a bit.”

Todoroki looked at him sidelong, seemingly both impressed and surprised. “How did you do that with your college courses at the same time?” 

“Oh! I stopped by the time I got to college. I did it when I was younger, but I had to quit by my final year in high school, the work was just too much,” Izuku answered honestly. 

“So, a seventeen year old solving cases that Yuuei couldn’t crack, I am impressed, Midoriya,” Todoroki said, nodding to himself. Izuku felt his cheeks flush, and he couldn’t stop himself from correcting him. 

(Maybe Izuku wanted Todoroki to be even more impressed. Maybe.)

“I was actually more like fourteen, maybe fifteen. Graduated early, remember?”

Todoroki smiled and it stopped Izuku’s heart. 

“Of course. You really are quite intelligent, aren’t you, Midoriya?”

Izuku immediately turned bright red, his face extraordinarily warm. Briefly, he entertained the idea of dying of heat-related health complications, but dismissed it. 

“T-Th-That’s not- I-I mean, thank you, but, really… It’s not a big- I mean… Uh huh.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, just wandering down the street, side by side. Izuku considered fleetingly the idea of reaching out and grabbing the hand that hung at Todoroki’s side, but he quashed it almost immediately. He had never excelled at flirting (read: he had never once attempted it in his life) and he was also nearly certain that Todoroki wasn’t interested in him in that way. 

“H-Have you ever worked with Detective Yagi?” Izuku asked, just wanting to keep the conversation from fading into awkward silence. Apparently, it was a good topic to lead with, because Todoroki smiled softly. 

“I suppose it’s much like you said, Midoriya. On paper, no, me and Yagi-san never worked together. But, when I was still in school, my old man would take me to crime scenes he was working at. He wanted me to… ‘be prepared’ is what he always said,” Todoroki replied, his mouth twisting downward.

Izuku had never really been a fan of Todoroki Enji. He wasn’t a fan of anyone who was that rude to his assistants and secretaries, but the younger Todoroki’s passing comments and remarks about the man just solidified Izuku’s distaste. 

“Yagi and my father were rivals of a sort, but they were the best and the brightest that Yuuei had to offer. So, when a particularly difficult case arose, they had to work together. My father brought me along, but I wasn’t allowed to help much,” Todoroki finished.

As they rounded the final corner, Izuku snuck a glance at his companion. Todoroki seemed to be lost in thought, but it looked like a nice thought. His lips played up in the barest hint of a smile and his eyes crinkled just the tiniest bit at the corners, and—

“Shitty fucking Deku! You were the one being so whiny about dinner, and then you show up fifteen minutes late?” An enraged voice called out from down the block. 

Izuku jolted out of his Todoroki-gazing, squinting down the street to see Bakugou Katsuki standing outside the agency, hands in his pockets and murder on his face. 

“Kacchan?” Izuku mumbled, mostly to himself. Todoroki looked down at him questioningly, but Izuku shrugged. He was equally as mystified. 

Bakugou grew increasingly more irritated the closer the pair drew to him, and Izuku felt himself preemptively shrinking into himself. 

“Deku, don't tell me you forgot,” Bakugou rumbled, pulling his hands from his hoodie pockets to fold them across his broad chest. When Izuku didn’t respond, his look of irritation morphed into one of disbelief.

“You actually forgot? Seriously?”

Izuku furrowed his brow, racking his brain intently. 

“Dumbass,” Bakugou muttered. “What day is it, Deku?”

Izuku paused, tilting his head. “Thursday. Thursday the…” He froze, stricken. “Thursday the seventeenth. Oh, my God, Kacchan, I’m so sorry! It completely slipped my mind!” Izuku gushed, slapping his hands over his mouth. 

Bakugou chuckled darkly. “I’m not forgetting this. You’re watching Saw IV with me this weekend instead of that stupid documentary you wanted to watch to make up for this.” 

Izuku gasped. “Kacchan, you wouldn’t.” 

“Kacchan, I would, shitty nerd,” Bakugou replied evilly, a dark grin growing rapidly on his face. “You’re the one always going on about how anniversaries are oh, so important , but you forget this one? I think I can get my payback however I want. Now, let’s get a move on, Deku, the reservation is at seven.”

Izuku swore, hiking his bag further onto his shoulder. Even after Mitsuki had come by a few days ago to remind him, he’d still forgotten. The annual dinner between the Midoriya’s and the Bakugou’s, to celebrate the Anniversary of Bakugou Katsuki’s Official Apology to Midoriya Izuku. 

In all honesty, if Bakugou wasn’t allowed to bring his boyfriend, he probably wouldn’t bother to show up. 

“Is the place fancy? I mean, you’re not dressed up, so it can’t be that fancy, but I’m just wearing a sweater, and-”

“You look fine, dumbass, now let’s go, ” Bakugou growled, looking on the verge of losing his temper. 

Kirishima was probably on time and waiting with Midoriya Inko, as well as Mitsuki and her husband. Both women were a veritable well of embarrassing childhood stories, and Bakugou probably wanted to put an end to that particular conversation as quickly as he could. 

“Right, right! Okay, let’s go! I’ll see you tomorrow, Todoro—Whoa, are you okay?” Izuku asked as he turned his head to see Todoroki, completely blank faced, save for the twitching muscle in his jaw. 

Shit. Had Izuku brought something up that Todoroki considered offensive? Some trigger, perhaps about his father? 

“I’m fine. Goodbye, Midoriya. Bakugou,” Todoroki said icily, nodding his head slightly in farewell before spinning sharply on his heel and marching into the building. Izuku watched through the glass door as he strode past the elevator, practically throwing the door to the staircase off of his hinges before disappearing inside. 

“Oi. What the hell did you do to stupid Half N’ Half?”

“I… have no idea.”

—————

“See you tomorrow, Ochako, Tsu-chan, Iida-kun!” Izuku called, waving as he stepped through the door. The three of them waved back and he gave them a tired, tight-lipped smile before turning down the hall.

It had been a long day. No burn or stabbing victims had shown up, which had kept everyone on edge. The past four victims had all been found before two in the afternoon, so for the perpetrator to break their pattern made everyone incredibly anxious. No one explicitly said anything, but it sat festering below the surface of every conversation and interaction, and it weighed heavy like a stone in Izuku’s gut. 

Izuku himself, having run out of samples to test and tangents to go on, didn’t have any work left for the day, so he was free to head home—but the rest of the team was still in the building. He wouldn’t be surprised if they stayed until a victim showed up. 

Todoroki, despite being oddly cold and distant the whole day, had put his number into Izuku’s phone earlier that afternoon, saying he’d call if anything happened. Izuku had almost passed out and he was still a bit unsure as to if he’d made the whole thing up. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past himself. His phone weighed heavily in his jeans pocket, like the contact information was burning a hole through his pants. 

He was about to push the front doors open when a glint on the floor caught his eye. Pausing, he looked closer to see a cell phone lying face down on the floor. Odd. Someone must have dropped it. Looking closer, he recognized the polaroid stuck in the clear case of a dark haired girl playing the guitar surrounded by sharpie hearts and smiled to himself. 

Yaoyorozu wasn’t usually one to lose things, but it seemed there was a first time for everything. He’d drop it off at the front desk for her, so one of the secretaries could call her office phone. Kneeling, he picked it up and turned it over when a name in her unread notifications caught his eye. 

Shouto: It’s so stupid.

Shouto: Who needs Midoriya anyways?

Izuku felt his stomach plummet to the floor. 

He read the words again. And again. And again, until the text started to swim in his vision. 

What did that mean?

Izuku was stupid? Probably. 

Izuku was stupid for believing that Todoroki actually liked him? That seemed pretty clear. 

Izuku was a useless nerd? Definitely. 

The name Bakugou had coined when they were still children, still young and not-quite-innocent, floated into his head. 

Deku. 

Stupid Deku. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid Deku. 

Izuku had been stupid to think that someone like Todoroki would geninuely like him, even just as a friend. 

Once a useless idiot, always a useless idiot. 

Tears pricked at his eyes and he squeezed them shut, unwilling to cry over something that he should have seen coming. 

Because he had seen this coming. 

He’d told Uraraka as much, hadn’t he? 

Someone like Todoroki wouldn’t actually go for someone like me. 

But Izuku had been stupid and let himself hope.  

Let himself hope for a second that Todoroki enjoyed his company, that he really didn’t mind his mumbling, and that he might, actually, maybe like Izuku back. 

But no. 

Instead, Izuku was a joke to tell to his fancy friends. 

Yaoyorozu? Really? He’d thought that Yaoyorozu at least tolerated him. 

The tears in his eyes broke through, spilling down his cheeks unchecked. 

He had to leave. He had to clear his head for a moment, just a moment. He needed fresh air. 

Sniffing and wiping his tears away with his sleeve, Izuku walked numbly to the front desk, wordlessly placing Yaoyorozu’s phone face down before striding away, ignoring the secretary's concerned eyes. 

Pushing the door open, Izuku turned onto the street on complete autopilot, his mind slowly going blanker by the second. He walked automatically down a few blocks, pausing only at red lights. He just wandered for a few minutes, instinctively dodging the other people on the street, some of whom gave him strange, questioning looks, which he ignored.

Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a familiar park. He’d come here with Bakugou, Kirishima, and Uraraka when they’d graduated, sharing lunch on a picnic blanket as they’d chatted the afternoon away. The memory pulled his mouth up in a sad almost-smile as he wandered down the path.

He half-sat, half-fell onto a park bench, looking out onto the hill they’d sat on that day. The park was almost entirely empty, which wasn’t a total surprise. It was a bit hidden, the entrance nestled between two apartment complexes. 

After a few moments of stillness, Izuku pulled out his phone, his fingers working faster than his mind as he pulled up Todoroki’s contact information. 

For a second, he just stared at it. 

It wasn’t like he would have the courage to ever actually confront him about his cold distance. Most likely, he would just ignore the problem until it faded in his mind, though forgetting entirely seemed a bit unlikely. Izuku had liked the guy for years, now. 

You should have known better, that terrible little voice in his head whispered. You should have remembered your place. 

He should have stayed in the lab, stayed where things were safe, where Todoroki didn’t know his name, and—

“One wrong move and this knife slits your throat.”

Ice flooded Izuku’s veins and every thought cleared his head as he registered the sting of sharp metal against his neck, hot breath against his skin sending shivers down his spine.

“Put the phone away. In your pocket.”

Izuku moved slowly, sliding his phone into his jeans and praying that the subtle movement of his fingers on the screen went undetected. 

It seemed that it did, as the voice didn’t call him out on it. 

“Are you sure it has to be Dabi today? This one is cute! I want to taste him!”

Izuku blinked in shock at the appearance of a second voice, this one high and feminine. 

“C’mon, Toga. Don’t be like that, you gotta play fair,” a third voice chimed in, low and raspy. 

“Shut it. Both of you,” commanded the first voice, the knife tightening on his throat. Izuku winced as he felt a trickle of blood drip down his neck. 

It was almost ironic. His mother had always worried that being a CSI would put him on the front lines, that he’d risk his life every day. She’d worried herself into a tizzy over the thought of him in some kind of shoot out or a hostage situation because of his job. 

How utterly comedic that he found himself a victim of complete random chance. Truly ironic. 

Maybe it was shock, maybe it was dissociation—but Izuku almost felt the urge to chuckle. 

A face shoved it’s way into her peripheral vision. It must have been the girl who’d been whining, with messy blond hair and a sickening grin. 

“You’re so cute! My name is Toga, what’s yours?” She asked chirpily, looking at him like he was something to eat. 

I want to taste him! 

Oh, God. 

“I’m M-Midoriya.”

“Shigaraki, are you sure I can’t bleed him out?” Toga asked, pulling back to speak with the people behind him. 

“Shut up, Toga. You know the rules.”

“Yeah,” the other male voice chimed in. A weight pressed down on Izuku’s shoulder and he glanced down to see a hand twisting into the fabric of his sweater. Burn scars laced the man’s arm, all the way down to his wrist. “It’s my turn today. And I’m feeling heated.” 

Stabbing. Burning. Park bench. 

Another ironic twist of fate. Was this really Izuku’s life now?

Well, if Todoroki was going to be the one to investigate his corpse, at least his shoes were recognizable. 

Behind him came a couple of sounds. First a grunt of exertion, then a cap being twisted off of something and flicked to the ground, then a sickening giggle. 

Suddenly, something was being poured onto Izuku, wet, viscous fluid replacing the hand on his shoulder. The knife pressed against him prevented him from turning and looking, but by the time the smell hit his nose, it was obvious. 

Gasoline. 

So, this was the mystery accelerant. Gasoline had been in his list of guesses, after all. It pooled in his lap and started to drip down his legs as whoever was pouring switched shoulders, letting it drip down his left side, too. 

Finally, the gasoline started to pour it over his head. Izuku gagged as it ran down his face, pressing his eyes and lips shut tight as it dripped off of his chin. 

When the last few drops ran down his face, the knife was released from his neck. Izuku breathed an immediate sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. A familiar, damming sound rang out, quiet in reality, but as loud as a gunshot in Izuku’s mind. With a shuddering breath, he opened his eyes, where he was greeted by a lit match, no less than five inches from his face.

The man holding it was the one with the burn scars. They covered his body, creeping over his neck and forming splotches on his face. He was grinning as he waved the lit match around, leaving spots in Izuku’s vision. 

“Don’t play, Dabi!” The woman chided from behind the bench. 

Dabi scowled. “You’re one to talk, Toga.”

The third voice- the leader?- cut him off before he could continue. “You’re both useless to me if all you do is bicker. Get on with it, Dabi, before someone shows up.”

“It’s too late for that.” 

Izuku’s eyes widened as he watched Todoroki walk out slowly from the shadows, gun drawn and aimed at Dabi. 

“Put the match out,” Todoroki commanded. Dabi smiled, almost coy. 

“And if I don’t? If I set this kid on fire?” 

“Then I shoot you.”

Dabi paused, seeming to consider it. Slowly, the smile crept back onto his face. 

“Worth it,” he said with that damning smirk. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. 

Dabi’s hand started to fall, fingers loosening on the match before a shot was fired and his whole arm was flung to the side, sending the match flying. It landed a few feet away, fizzling out on the gravel path. 

Immediately, Izuku dove off of the bench before that knife could be pulled on him again, hitting the ground hard and rolling over his shoulder, gravel sticking to the gasoline coating his body. 

Another shot was fired, nearly deafening, and Izuku just squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to keep watching. 

The panic that had somehow eluded him before caught up to him then, and as he lay there on the path, the sound of a third shot ringing out above him, his heart pounding and the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, he slipped into a fitful state of unconsciousness. 

—————

Shouto paced back and forth in the hospital lobby for what felt like the hundredth time in twenty minutes. 

He chewed on his fingernail as the sound of his footsteps rang in his head, a habit that he had been forced out of in primary school, but found himself regressing to now. 

Apparently, Midoriya had woken back up in the ambulance on the ride over, but he was still being kept in a hospital room to treat the cut on his neck, and his mental state. He was probably in shock. He hadn’t seemed particularly outwardly panicked when Shouto had approached, but being held at knife point had to take a toll on anyone’s mental health. 

Shouto just repeatedly thanked the gods that he’d arrived when he did, that he’d understood the cryptic message of just Midoriya’s location, that the first shot he’d fired hadn’t dropped the match onto his gasoline-soaked clothes. 

It was some kind of miracle, some blessing from a higher power, that Midoriya Izuku was alive. 

Shouto sat heavily on one of the uncomfortable chairs lining the hospital waiting room before immediately standing again and resuming his pacing. He rolled his neck and his right shoulder out as we walked, his eyes fluttering open and closed. Despite having been taken to the firing range once a week since he’d turned ten, firing more than two shots in a row always made the space between his neck and his shoulder sore. 

“Where the hell is Deku? Where is he, you Half N’ Half bastard?” 

Shouto jolted, turning on his heel to see Bakugou striding into the room purposefully, a tall, spiky-haired redhead trailing nervously behind him. 

A bolt of jealousy struck his chest as he registered the worried look on Bakugou’s face, but he pushed it down forcefully. After all, it wasn’t his place to be jealous. Midoriya had chosen Bakugou—it wasn’t either of their faults that Shouto had developed a misplaced infatuation so quickly on someone unavailable. 

Nor was it the time to be jealous. Midoriya had just been placed in a life or death situation, and he probably needed his significant other more than he needed his creepy, socially awkward, sort-of-boss, who liked to stare at him while he worked. 

“They’re checking him out for shock, I believe. And the cut on his neck,” Shouto replied, his voice icy to cover any… unwanted inflections that might reveal his inner emotional turmoil. 

“Because they got him at fucking knifepoint,” Bakugou muttered under his breath. “You got them, right? Those fucking bastards, you got them?” 

“All three of them are each a bullet heavier than they were this morning,” Shouto answered grimly, feeling more than a hint of dark satisfaction at the thought. Bakugou nodded in something resembling approval before collapsing onto a chair on the other side of the room, the unexplained redhead trailing behind him. 

When no one carried on the conversation, Shouto sighed heavily, dropping his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. 

Even with the childhood he’d had, with his father taking him to his first murder scene at a fresh seven years old, Shouto had felt a new kind of fear when he saw that Midoriya on the park bench. 

The way he’d just sat there, completely still as the scarred man had taunted him, had waved death itself right in front of his eyes. 

Shouto had been in hostage situations before. He’d talked criminals down from holding entire stores full of people at gunpoint. One CSI in an abandoned park really shouldn't have made Shouto as absolutely terrified as he had been. 

Despite that, that day had been the first time his hands had shaken holding his gun since he’d been twelve years old. 

Maybe it was those stupid feelings he’d developed, the ones that had first swirled in his chest when he’d seen a muttering mess of dark green curls at the crime scene that damned first day. Maybe it was the flush of attraction that had briefly overwhelmed him when he’d seen Midoriya tug off his sweater, surprisingly muscled arms engraving themselves onto the back of Shouto’s eyelids. Maybe it was the deepening of all of those feelings over every conversation, each detail about the easily excitable man filing itself away in Shouto’s mind. 

Maybe it was the recent rejection that wasn’t even a real rejection. 

See, Shouto wasn't stupid. Sure, he wasn’t great at social cues. Yeah, he didn’t usually say the right thing when someone was upset. Okay, fine, he couldn’t count the number of times Yaoyorozu had scolded him for rejecting someone he didn’t even realize was making a move on him. But two ‘childhood friends’ discussing an anniversary dinner and making future movie watching plans right in front of him? Shouto would have had to have been blind not to realize that Midoriya and Bakugou were dating. 

He’d already confessed the whole story to Yaoyorozu the previous night over far too much wine. How he’d first met Midoriya and his heart had beaten double time, how he’d realized that it might be more serious than that when Midoriya had given him that sleepy smile in the breakroom the next morning, how Shouto was far too broken hearted over someone he’d met less than a week ago. 

Yaoyorozu had texted him encouraging messages throughout the day, things like ‘You got this!’ or ‘Love is overrated!’ 

That message wasn’t quite as effective as it could’ve been if Yaoyorozu hadn’t been in a loving relationship for two years now. 

Shouto had responded in kind, things he knew Yaoyorozu wanted to hear. ‘I’m feeling better.’ ‘Maybe I’ll download Tinder.’ ‘Who needs Midoriya anyways?’

“Hey… dude?”

Shouto jerked his head up to see Bakugou’s spiky haired friend standing in front of him, fidgeting nervously. 

Shouto didn’t say anything, just looking up at him expectantly. 

The redhead smiled, but the picture of peace on his face was cancelled out by the death grip he had on his hands, wringing them with an almost feverish intensity. “R-Right. Uh, well… I’m Kirishima Eijirou, Katsuki’s boyfriend- that’s why I’m here—but I’m grabbing some coffee for him and Midoriya’s mom when she shows up. I figured you might want some.”

Shouto stared at him, feeling his icy mask slip as he glanced back and forth between Kirishima and Bakugou, a million emotions waging war in his mind. 

“You’re… Bakugou’s…” Shouto’s brain to mouth filter closed off as he continued to stare. He knew he was being rude, and from a tiny corner in his mind, he could hear his fathers voice yelling at him about manners, but Shouto honestly couldn’t be bothered. “You… are Bakugou’s…”

Bakugou growled from where he sat. “You know your best friend is a fucking lesbian, right?” 

Kirishima flashed him a nervous look of warning, but Bakugou ignored it. 

“You better not be a shitbag homophobe, Half N’ Half, or I’m never letting Deku hang out with you again,” Bakugou rumbled darkly, glaring. 

Shouto flinched for the first time in years. “I’m not… a homophobe. I just…” he paused, floundering for words. “You and Midoriya, your anniversary was yesterday. Are you… Are the three of you all together?”

Kirishima laughed heartily, making Shouto blink in surprise. He glanced over to see Bakugou fake-gag, looking heartily disgusted. 

“No, no, Detective,” Kirishima laughed. “You’ve misunderstood! Yesterday was—Katsuki, what’s the official title? It’s always too long for me to remember.”

Bakugou crossed his arms sullenly. “The Anniversary of Bakugou Katsuki’s Official Apology to Midoriya Izuku. Tch, it’s such a stupid fucking name. I only agreed to go because Auntie Inko would give me those sad puppy dog eyes if I ditched,” he growled, somewhat unconvincingly. 

“Katsuki wasn’t very kind in their childhood years, so when he actually gave Midoriya a formal apology in university, both their families made a big deal over it. They just use it as an excuse to get together every year, now—the Midoriya’s and the Bakugou’s. This was only my first year as a plus one, but it was great! Katsuki’s mom told me this story about when he’d gotten himself stuck in the ladies restroom during a—”

“Can it, Shitty Hair!”

“Ooh, I’m Shitty Hair! I haven’t been Shitty Hair since I accidentally shrunk your nice jeans!”

Shouto watched in dumbfounded silence as the two bickered goodnaturedly, dull jabs back and forth with no real fire behind the words. 

Eventually, their banter died down, and Kirishima turned back around to face Shouto, who was still reeling, though his emotionless mask had slipped back into place. 

“So. You want coffee?” 

Shouto gave a silent nod. 

He needed all the caffeine he could get. 

—————

“Izuku, are you feeling up to seeing any visitors now?” The doctor asked him kindly. She was a sweet, tiny old woman, and he knew her from hospital visits with Yagi during the particularly nasty bouts of his chronic illness. “Normally, we wouldn’t let you so soon, but your mental fortitude is surprisingly strong. You’re one tough cookie. Ah, and you know your mother. She wants to see you as soon as she can.”

“I… think I can do that,” Izuku responded tiredly. The thought of social interaction seemed draining, but the sooner he reassured his mother that he wasn’t dead, dying, or mortally wounded, the sooner she would stop crying. 

“Alright, dear. They’ll be in in just a moment.” With that, she slipped out the door. 

They? Multiple people? His mom, certainly, Izuku knew for sure that she was there, but who else would drop everything on such short notice? Last he’d checked, Yagi had been too ill to travel farther than the corner store, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t him. 

But who else—?

“Shitty nerd, what the fuck did I tell you about not dying?” 

Ah.

Bakugou nearly threw the door open with no regard to his surroundings, marching up to the hospital bed Izuku sat in with a stricken looking Kirishima tailing him. 

“K-Kacchan! What are you doing here?” Izuku asked, honestly quite shocked that Bakugou had abandoned work to visit him for something as minor as a shallow cut on his throat. 

“They called your mom, who called my mom, who called me,” Bakugou explained gruffly as his eyes roamed over Izuku, as if he were searching for something. 

“Midoriya! Dude! Are you okay?” Kirishima piped up from Bakugou’s shoulder. Izuku just gave him a tired smile in response. 

 “I can’t believe you nearly died, bro! That is so manly,” he gushed, absentmindedly intertwining his fingers with the explosive blond beside him. 

“I-It’s nothing, really-” Izuku started to stammer, but he was interrupted by a third voice barrelling into the room. 

“Nothing? Oh, Izuku,   I was so worried! They called me and they said that the criminals on the case had gotten a hold of you and that you were in the hospital, and—” Inko was already crying, but she paused her ranting when Izuku grabbed her hand gently. 

“I’m fine, Mom. It’s really nothing more than a scratch, I’ve had worse,” he said lightheartedly, aiming for a laugh. The three of them just stared at him, concern written plainly on their faces. Even Bakugou’s usual scowl had been replaced by a set of furrowed brows. 

“Why—Why are you all looking at me like that?” Izuku asked, growing more anxious by the second. Had something happened while he was unconscious? 

“Midoriya, you almost died. We’re all... worried about you.”

Izuku jumped at Todoroki’s voice, craning his neck to see him leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah, b-but I didn't, did I?” Izuku asked. Todoroki raised an eyebrow at that and Izuku tried to suppress the surge of nausea that rose up when he remembered Todoroki coming to save him. 

“You were there, so I didn’t die,” he finished quietly. 

“Yeah, yeah, Half N’ Half was your knight in shining armour, big fucking deal. Do you want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to go sit alone on a park bench like some damned idiot when you knew that the perps hadn’t struck today?” Bakugou accused with a threatening finger. Izuku winced. 

“I was… distracted,” he answered lamely. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you all. Especially you, Todoroki-kun.” Izuku hung his head in shame, waiting for Bakugou to continue his verbal assault. 

Instead, his mother placed a warm hand on his back, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the too-large t-shirt he’d been given by the hospital, with his gasoline soaked clothes sent straight into evidence.

“Izuku, darling, you know Katsuki is just worried about you. You're not an inconvenience, I’m sure Detective Todoroki was glad to help,” she murmured. 

“A little more context would have been nice,” Todoroki responded dryly. Izuku chuckled. “But I’m just glad I got there in time,” he finished, his voice solemn. 

Izuku looked up to see a look pass between his mother and Bakugou. Bakugou nodded slightly, then looked to Kirishima, who waggled his eyebrows. Inko stifled a laugh with a fake cough, before standing up, her fingers still brushing Izuku’s back. 

“Katsuki, Eijirou, I believe Mitsuki is going to be here soon,” Inko said, her tone laced with something Izuku wasn’t able to dissect. He was definitely missing something. 

Kirishima seemed to understand though, because he lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yeah! We should go wait for her in the waiting room so we can take her here. These hallways all look the same, it’s super easy to get lost!”

Bakugou just grumbled unintelligibly and let himself be dragged out by his wrist, leaving Izuku alone with Todoroki. 

Instinctively, he shrunk into himself, averting his gaze out the window. He heard rather than saw Todoroki take a few slow steps forward, then felt the end of the bed dip with his weight. 

“Midoriya,” Todoroki started softly. Izuku flinched. “I’m… glad you’re alright.”

Izuku tugged his knees up to his chest and rested his cheek on the scratchy material of the blanket, staring resolutely out the window. 

“... Are you alright?” Todoroki asked after a moment, his voice soft and very small. 

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” Izuku mumbled. He heard Todoroki’s sharp intake of breath, but he plowed on. If he stopped now, this adrenaline, this near-death fueled confidence would leave him forever. “I know you don’t actually like me much. It’s okay, I’m used to it,” he said, his voice achingly bitter. 

“...Midoriya, what are you talking about?” 

“When I left today, Yaoyorozu had dropped her phone on the floor. I picked it up to give it back to her and your messages were on the screen. Stupid Midoriya, who needs him,” he spat out, voice dripping with venom. He spared a glance at Todoroki, who was staring at him in thinly masked horror. 

Afraid of getting called out? Perhaps. 

“I get it, I really do. I just wish you hadn’t been such a good actor, I guess.” Izuku laughed humorlessly. “If you want a mean nickname for me, talk to Kacchan. He’s got years worth, I’m sure you’ll find something you like,” he finished scathingly

“Midoriya—”

Izuku lifted a hand sharply, cutting him off. “Don’t. I don’t want some pity party from you. You don’t like me, that’s fine, I’ll get over it. It’s not like that’s never happened to me before. I’m sorry if I was clingy, or if I mumbled too much, or if… I don’t know, really. I’m sorry for whatever I did that pissed you off so much. So, please. Spare me the half-assed excuses. You saved my life, that should clear your conscience, shouldn’t it?” 

Todoroki looked like he was about to throw up. Izuku felt a flash of guilt, but he shoved it down, thinking of childhood bullies who had given him fake apologies just to get close enough to push him down the stairs again.

“You really believe those things, don’t you?”

In spite of himself, Izuku’s head snapped up, looking at Todoroki. 

“You accepted it so easily. The idea that I could hate you. You… You think those things about yourself, don’t you?” Todoroki asked quietly. Izuku flinched away, but he let him continue. 

“Those texts with Momo, they…” Todoroki laughed the same dry, humorless laugh Izuku had before.

“It’s so stupid,” he quoted. “It’s so stupid, Midoriya, falling for someone unavailable. Who needs Midoriya anyways. You know, that text is probably why I got to you so quickly at the park. I had my phone in my hand, waiting for Momo to call me out on such an obvious lie. I was trying to convince myself that it would be that easy to get over you, even if I’d only just met you.”

Izuku stared at Todoroki, who shook his head in some mix of disbelief and amusement. 

“The Anniversary of Bakugou Katsuki’s Official Apology to Midoriya Izuku. Not the anniversary of Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku’s relationship.”

“...What?” 

Todoroki ran a hand through his hair and looked up, meeting Izuku’s eyes. “I like you, Midoriya Izuku. A lot. You don’t have to feel the same, but… I had to tell you, at the very least. I have never felt more afraid in my life than I did today when I saw you on that park bench. I remember thinking to myself, I will never complain about their relationship for the rest of my life if he comes out of this alive.”

Izuku just gaped at him. “M-Me and K-Ka-Kacchan? But-”

“No, no, I know now,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The three of us—Kirishima included—had an… enlightening conversation in the waiting room.”

Izuku put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. “Let me… Let me try to understand,” he said slowly. Todoroki nodded in assent. 

“So you thought… that me and Kacchan were together. So you texted Yaoyorozu about it, and I read those messages out of context and thought you two were laughing at me.”

“Believe me, Midoriya, I was far from laughing.”

Izuku flushed at the sincerity of his tone, burying his face further into his hands. 

“So, then, you come save me at the park, and when you get here, you find out that Kacchan and Kirishima are together. Then I just sit here and yell at you, and insult you, and—oh, God, I’m so sorry, I was a total jerk—”

“You were in the right, Midoriya,” Todoroki interrupted. “I behaved coldly today, I’m not surprised you got the wrong impression. But…”

He trailed off, looking almost nervous. 

“But…?” Izuku prompted. 

“You forgot something,” Todoroki blurted out. Izuku blinked. “You forgot the part where I like you. Where I’m falling for you and I can’t stop myself.”

The words hung heavy in the air, like they had been plucked from his mouth before Todoroki could stop them from coming out. 

Todoroki searched Izuku’s face for a response, but Izuku was past coherent thought. 

How many times had he imagined this situation? Sure, the specifics, like the hospital bed and the neck bandages, they weren’t usually there. But the confession. The nervous look, the eyes flickering down to Izuku’s mouth and back up to his eyes, the teeth pulling on Todoroki’s bottom lip, breaking his usual cool, collected mask. 

In his fantasies, Izuku usually responded eloquently, giving a speech in return about how he’d pined for Todoroki for years, how this was a dream come true. 

At that moment, Izuku couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat. 

Instead, he just moved. 

Shoving the blankets off of his legs, he crawled to the edge of the bed where Todoroki sat, watching him with a strange mix of desire and trepidation. Izuku shoved his nerves back into the farthest corner of his mind and reached forward from where he’d ended up, kneeling so close that their knees knocked together. 

Izuku wrapped a hand around the back of Todoroki’s neck, pulling him in close before he pressed their lips together, their teeth clacking just a little. Todoroki froze, completely stock-still, and Izuku’s stomach dropped. 

Shit.

He started to pull back, but the minute he began to move, Todoroki’s mind seemed to restart, lacing an arm around Izuku’s waist and pulling him in, sealing their lips back together. 

Izuku melted, sliding his knees apart and hoisting himself forward to straddle Todoroki’s hips, thighs pressing firmly around his waist. Todoroki responded in kind, running his other hand up Izuku’s back, ghosting over the nape of his neck before twining into his hair and pulling, not too sharp, just an insistent tug that set a fire in Izuku’s gut. 

Izuku swallowed a high pitched whine and deepened the kiss, nipping softly at Todoroki’s bottom lip with his teeth. Todoroki parted for him immediately, and Izuku slipped his tongue in, running it gently over the place he’d bitten. 

Todoroki groaned quietly and Izuku squirmed in his hold, the hand he held on his neck dipping beneath the fabric of Todoroki’s t-shirt. 

A sudden, jarring knock on the door had them leaping apart like school children caught in the janitor's closet at lunchtime. 

“Izuku? You two decent?” 

Izuku flushed at Mitsuki’s bluntness, but Todoroki just chuckled. 

“C-Come in!” Izuku called, his voice hoarse and scratchy. Todoroki gave him a tiny smirk, and it drew Izuku’s gaze to his lips. His red, swollen, spit-slicked lips-

“Izuku! You had me worried half to death, how dare you!” Mitsuki cried, barging in much the same fashion as her son. At least she’d had the decency to knock. 

Izuku guiltily shoved his lewd thoughts about Todoroki’s lips deep into his subconscious, but Mitsuki still gave him a knowing look as she strode over to ruffle his hair. 

Inko, Bakugou, and Kirishima all trailed in after her, looking between them intently. Bakugou took one look at Izuku and pretended to vomit all over the floor, Kirishima winked at him, and Inko just looked pleased. 

Izuku flushed bright red, feeling the back of his neck and the tips of his ears heat up. 

“Disgusting, dumb fuckfaces,” Bakugou muttered scathingly. Kirishima slapped him heartily on the back. 

“He means we’re very happy for you!” Kirishima supplied cheerily. Mitsuki nodded from where she stood next to Izuku, who was wishing for a swift death. 

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations, dipshits. Does this mean you won’t bug me on my cases anymore?”

“Katsuki, play nice,” Mitsuki scolded, smacking him on the arm. 

Bakugou scowled, but there was no real fire behind it. Izuku glanced over at Todoroki in amusement, only to find him already staring back. 

Immediately, his stomach twisted and his breath caught at the little smile on Todoroki’s face. That smile was for him. For Izuku. 

With a smile of his own pulling on the corner of his lips, Izuku stared down at the blanket and let the giddy feeling in his heart spread through his entire chest. 

—————

When Izuku said he needed to stop by the lab to pick up some of his things, Todoroki was insistent on accompanying him. 

It didn’t take much convincing on his part for Izuku to let him come with. 

He felt sort of elated, despite the day's harrowing events, as he walked through the doors with his fingers interwoven with Todoroki’s. 

His fingers feel like a pianist’s, Izuku thought absently. Long, and thin, and almost delicate.  

It was a surreal observation that he had never, in a million years, thought he would be in a position to make. 

“Your mother is nice,” Todoroki said as they stood in the elevator. Izuku looked up at him in surprise, a smile spreading on his face. 

“She is, isn’t she? She worries a lot, but it’s because she cares. She never wanted me to go into crime. Always said it was too dangerous. Today was like… her worst nightmare,” Izuku sighed. Todoroki nodded solemnly. 

“I think it was mine, too.”

Izuku choked, smacking Todoroki’s arm lightly. 

“Y-You can’t just say things like that, my heart can’t take it!” He complained, leaning his head on Todoroki’s shoulder. Todoroki smiled down at him as the elevator doors chimed open. 

“Izuku!”

Izuku flinched at the volume of Uraraka’s squeal as she peeked out from the lab’s doorway. With the speed and strength of an Olympic athlete, she dashed down the hall and tackled him into a hug before he could make it more than five steps from the elevator. 

“Oh, Izuku, you had us all worried out of our minds! When Yaomomo came down to tell us, Tsu nearly fainted! Oh, my goodness, I’m just glad you’re alright,” Uraraka gushed, tugging Izuku closer and squeezing his torso tightly before holding him back out at arms length. 

“But you smell terrible. What is that?”

Izuku smiled dryly. “Gasoline.”

Uraraka gasped, and Todoroki gave a noise of displeasure from somewhere above them. Uraraka froze, as if noticing him for the first time. Slowly, she looked up, then back at Izuku, who blushed. 

“Something happened. What happened?” She demanded. Izuku stoutly looked away, but just ended up making awkward eye contact with Iida, who stood at the end of the hall with Asui. 

“What happened?!” Uraraka repeated, more intently. Izuku stayed silent, willing the flush on his cheeks to fade. 

“Midoriya and I worked out our miscommunications and I confessed to him. We also kissed,” Todoroki stated plainly, and Izuku wanted to die. 

“You’re so blunt, Todoroki-kun,” he moaned, bringing his hands out of Uraraka’s grip to cover his red face. 

“It’s what happened, isn’t it?”

Uraraka squealed, punching Izuku’s arm. “I knew it! I knew he would—wait. Miscommunications? What miscommunications?” 

Izuku chuckled sheepishly and brought one of his hands around to rub nervously at the back of his neck. 

“Ah, er… Well…”

“I misconstrued the nature of Midoriya’s relationship with Bakugou, and Midoriya misunderstood a message I sent to Momo. It was all a bit of a mess, really,” Todoroki said, having the decency to finally look embarrassed. 

“Hah! That is priceless,” Uraraka cried out, before tugging on Izuku’s arm to get him to start walking. “Now, what do you need from the lab?” 

“Ah, well, my clothes are in evidence right now, and I don’t really fit the ones the hospital gave me, so I thought I’d pick up the spare change I keep here,” Izuku explained as he was dragged down the hall. Todoroki strolled leisurely behind them, the picture of casual grace. 

“Why can’t you just change at… home… Unless you aren’t going home! Izuku, you scoundrel!” 

“We’re just getting dinner, Ochako! It was just quicker to stop here instead of my apartment!” Izuku protested. 

That, and he wanted to clean before Todoroki came over for the first time. 

Uraraka laughed gleefully as they swept into the lab, where Iida gave him a thumbs up and Asui gave him a wink. 

“Man, I wish you had something nicer here, seeing as this is such a long time coming,” Uraraka said offhandedly as she pulled a sweater out of the bottom most drawer at his desk. 

Izuku whipped his head around, eyes frantic in an attempt to silence her with a look. She just stared back at him, confused, before her eyes widened, realizing what she’d just said. Immediately, she dropped the sweater, clasping both hands over her mouth. 

It was too late. The damage was done. 

“What do you mean, a long time coming? I met Midoriya last week,” Todoroki said questioningly. 

Izuku folded over himself, collapsing onto his desk in a heap of embarrassment. 

“Midoriya?” Todoroki asked, sounding more than a bit concerned. 

Uraraka placed an apologetic hand on his head, and he let out a defeated noise. 

“I feel as though I’m missing something,” Todoroki said finally, when no one spoke. 

Izuku pushed his head out of his arms and looked at Todoroki, who was adorably confused, his brows furrowed and his head tilted, almost like a dog. 

Izuku sighed. “How do I even…?” He looked up hopelessly at Uraraka, who lit up with an idea. 

“Todoroki-san! Do you remember going with your father to give a lecture to a criminal justice class at Aldera University a few years ago?” Uraraka asked. Todoroki nodded slowly, as if he only barely recalled it. 

“I wasn’t… in the best state of mind back then, but I remember vaguely.”

Izuku frowned, filing away that concerning piece of information for future investigation. 

“See, Izuku and I were in one of the classes you visited, and, well…”

Uraraka trailed off, looking pointedly at Izuku, who looked away. 

“I still don’t understand,” Todoroki interrupted. “Did we meet and I forgot you? I apologize if that is the case-”

“No! No, we never... met… technically. But, ah… I did remember you. Clearly. Very clearly. As in, I thought about you a lot. And watched you on the news. And started working here. And—”

“I think he gets it, Izuku,” Uraraka whispered, putting a calming hand on his shoulder to stop him. Izuku laughed nervously. 

After a long moment of awkward silence, Todoroki looking entirely lost in thought, Iida cleared his throat. “Asui, Uraraka, I believe Aizawa wanted us to deliver that paperwork to HR today, did he not?” 

Uraraka sprung up immediately, nodding so fiercely Izuku momentarily feared she would get whiplash. 

“Yes! Yes, he did! We should all do that right now!” She declared, grabbing Asui’s wrist in one hand and Iida’s in the other and marching them all out the door, none of them holding a single piece of paperwork. 

Izuku chuckled softly to himself. 

“This is the second time in an hour that people have made shitty excuses to leave us alone in order to have awkward conversations. I’m sensing a pattern,” Izuku said wryly. Todoroki gave a little huff of laughter in response, before his face turned serious. 

“Midoriya… Did you… Did you like me? Before we met?” 

Oh, this was Izuku’s worst nightmare. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Kinda.”

“How long?”

“Oh, not long, just… a year or two… or four… you know, give or take.”

Todoroki stared at him, speechless. Izuku stared back. 

“But you… you never talked to me, we never…” Todoroki seemed at a loss. 

Izuku sighed heavily. “Do you remember the first day of the case?” 

Todoroki nodded. 

“I was supposed to be working with Yaoyorozu. Well, actually, I was supposed to be working with you. I… I’ve been trading jobs with Uraraka for years now. We probably should have met within a week of my starting here,” Izuku admitted, something about finally confessing that secret lifting a weight from his chest. 

All week, he had felt guilty about the job swapping, and how genuinely confused Todoroki was that they’d never worked together. It was… refreshing to finally come clean. 

“Did you not… like me? Were you only attracted to my looks?” Todoroki asked, looking as if he was trying not to be hurt and failing. 

Midoriya flailed his arms around, trying to reassure him. “No! No, no, no, of course not! It’s the opposite, really… I liked you so much. And, you know, you’re you and I’m me, so I knew something would go wrong if we ever did meet—and I suppose I was sort of right, I did ruin one of my favorite sweaters when I spilled coffee all over myself… Todoroki? Are you alright?”

Todoroki didn’t seem to be paying much attention anymore. His brows were knitted together and his frown grew with every passing word. 

“What do you mean, you’re you and I’m me , Midoriya? ” he said, folding his arms over his chest. 

Izuku blinked, surprised. He hadn’t given that statement much thought, and he was a bit taken aback that Todoroki seemed to have taken so much offense to it. 

“Well… You’re you,” he said lamely. “I mean, you’re Todoroki Shouto. You’re so smart and capable and charismatic on the news and in your interviews. And you’re…. you’re… very attractive. I’m… not Todoroki Shouto. You know that I mumble too much, and I can't even think coherently before I have coffee, and I get embarrassed too easily, and…”

He trailed off, looking nervously at Todoroki’s ever deepening scowl. 

“I think you’re wrong, Midoriya.”

Midoriya blinked. 

“I’m Todoroki Shouto, sure. I was raised to be intelligent and charming, but I’m nowhere near as… as real as you are,” he said softly but intently. Izuku felt his heart flutter as Todoroki stepped forward, grabbing one of Izuku’s hands and holding it with both of his own. 

“Midoriya, I—I don’t quite know how to explain it. You… you smile at dogs on the road, and you hold the door open, even when someone is all the way down the street, and you put up with all of Bakugou’s shit. You’re just a good person , and hearing you say those things, like you don’t realize how incredible you are, it… it infuriates me.”

“And you… you remember all those things? You’ve known me for a week, Todoroki, you can’t possibly-”

“The melting point of gold is one thousand and sixty-four degrees Celsius.”

Izuku paused. “Well, yes, but I don’t see how that—” 

“Do you remember when you said that? You were talking about the temperature of the fire and how the ring’s lack of warping could tell you how hot it had gotten,” Todoroki said quietly. 

Izuku was stunned into silence. 

“My—You remember what I was mumbling about?”

Todoroki looked almost offended. “I remember everything you’ve said to me, Midoriya. Of course I remember your mumbling. I’ve told you that I’m not… the best with people. But you, you just speak and it’s like… a straight look into your mind. When you talk to me, it’s like I understand. Your mumbling—which I feel as though we need to find a kinder word for—it’s not the terribly annoying thing you make it out to be. I quite like it,” Todoroki stated bluntly. 

Izuku was speechless, helpless against the tears welling in his eyes. The second they started to spill over, Todoroki jerked back, guilt and regret written all over his features. 

“I-I’m sorry, Midoriya, I’m so sorry—”

“That was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me,” Izuku whispered as the tears rolled down his cheeks. 

The kindest response to his muttering had always been polite, feigned indifference, and even that was rare. Usually it was annoyance, anger, even disgust. 

Never, in Izuku’s entire life, had anyone ever told him with complete sincerity that it was a good thing. 

Todoroki still looked somewhat terrified, but slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his arms, a silent invitation that Izuku took gladly. Pressing his face against Todoroki’s chest, Izuku shuddered a bit, squeezing tighter and Todoroki squeezed back, running one of his hands gently through Izuku’s hair. 

“You may have liked me for a few years longer,” Todoroki started suddenly. “But I’ll make it up to you. I’ll pay all those years back. I’ll listen to you, and make you coffee in the mornings, and work with you on cases. I like you, Midoriya Izuku. I want to make you happy. And I… I didn’t do that today.”

Izuku looked up, confused. “You—I’m happy right now. I am very, very happy right now,” he assured. It was true. He wasn’t sure he would ever find a place he would be happier in than Todoroki Shouto’s arms. 

“Not right now—though I am glad you feel that way. Earlier. At the park. You said you were distracted. Distracted because of me, right? Because of those texts?” Todoroki asked seriously, his eyes mere inches from Izuku’s own. 

“You—You can’t possibly blame yourself for that, Todoroki-kun,” Izuku said, his voice laced with disbelief. When Todoroki didn’t deny it, he plowed on. “Todoroki, you saved my life. No—don’t say anything yet. If you blame yourself, the blame won’t stop. Blame Uraraka, and Bakugou, and Kirishima for making memories with me in that park. Blame Yaoyorozu for dropping her phone. Blame me for being distracted! But you don’t, do you? You don’t blame them. You don’t blame me. So don’t blame yourself.”

Todoroki huffed, the air blowing his bangs into the air just slightly. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Izuku repeated. “I don’t blame you.”

Todoroki looked at him then, his eyes wide and vulnerable. Overwhelmed with emotion, Izuku placed a hand on his cheek, brushing a light finger over his scar. 

Todoroki practically went limp, dropping his head onto Izuku’s shoulder and burrowing into his neck. Izuku laughed softly, stroking a light hand through the white half of his hair, then the red. 

“I like your laugh,” Todoroki said, muffled by Izuku’s t-shirt. “S’nice.”

“I like your laugh too, Todoroki.”

“I like you.”

“I like you too, Todoroki.”