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Shouto doesn’t usually get to take a picture with Midoriya and Bakugou.
There are a lot of photos taken of Midoriya and Bakugou together. There are also photos taken of Shouto with Bakugou. But suspiciously few of Shouto with the two of them. If this one turns out well, Shouto’s going to ask the photographer for a copy of it.
He could put up a copy in his room. Or in his locker, once he starts working at an agency. It would cheer him up every time he sees it, him and his best friends.
As they’re cue-ed for the shot, Bakugou shoves Midoriya forward, and Shouto tugs him back with a hand on his right shoulder. It makes sense this way, with Midoriya in the middle, since he’s slightly shorter and Shouto and Bakugou have a similar height.
This will make a good shot, the three of them in front of the white background in the photography studio.
“Okay…everyone look in front, nice big smiles,” the photographer, a tired looking man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, recites.
Shouto smiles. It’s easy to. He’s exactly where he wants to be.
“Kacchan, at least look at the camera,” Midoriya says. “Kacchan.”
Midoriya grabs Bakugou’s tie and tugs on it, while Bakugou pouts and (mostly) looks the other way. Shouto stops focusing on the camera too, so he can watch them, and the way Midoriya’s body is angled towards Bakugou’s, the way he’s looking at him wide-eyed and beaming—that’s…it makes Shouto happy. That the two of them can finally be friends.
The flash goes off, and Midoriya turns to Bakugou completely. Still holding onto his tie. Shouto tightens his grip on Midoriya’s shoulder—it’s practically involuntary—and as soon as he does it he lets go. What is he thinking? He should go. He should leave.
Midoriya whips around, lightning at his fingertips, and he looks up. He has the softest green eyes—like a baby deer—and the way they shine feels like being hit by a direct beam of sunlight.
Everything about him is so warm. Sometimes Shouto gets this pent-up aggression inside of him, when he looks at Midoriya and likes him too much. Too much than what might be welcome from Shouto. He wants to love Midoriya as much as Midoriya seems to love and adore Bakugou. Or maybe just…get close.
Shouto’s been wanting for the longest time, to maybe get to hug him? He doesn’t know how he would ask for that. If he could just say it out loud.
“Hey, what…did you wanna tell me something?” Midoriya asks, pink-cheeked and oblivious.
Pull my tie too, Shouto feels the urge to say, clawing its way out of him. It doesn’t make sense. There’s no reason for Midoriya to pull Shouto’s tie. He did it to Bakugou in order to get his attention. But Midoriya already has Shouto’s full attention. Always. No tie-pulling necessary.
Bakugou looks at Shouto. He looks like he knows. Even though he couldn’t know. Shouto hasn’t told anyone what he feels about Midoriya. Not even Iida and Momo, who generally check in with him the most.
“No,” Shouto says. “Nothing.”
“Are you…are you sure?”
Well. Maybe there is something.
“We could take a picture of the two of us,” Shouto suggests. “I already have quite a few with Bakugou.”
“My time’s up kids,” the photographer says.
He gives them a wave.
Or no picture then.
“Kacchan can take it,” Midoriya says.
“Like hell,” Bakugou says.
“Please.”
“I got shit to do.”
“It’ll only take a second,” Midoriya takes his phone out, opens the camera mode and shoves it towards Bakugou, who, despite his earlier denial, takes it.
“One,” Bakugou says. “Hurry.”
Midoriya gets into position right next to him, with his arm around Shouto’s middle. Shouto puts his arm around Midoriya’s shoulder, stiff at first, then relaxed as Midoriya melts into him.
Pull my tie, Shouto wishes. Touch me.
“There,” Bakugou says, clicking the picture silently.
Then he shoves the phone back into Midoriya’s hands, and Midoriya shows Shouto the photo. It’s a good photo. Not at all blurry. Both of them are smiling. But Shouto can’t help but think of the photo of the three of them, which must have been clicked right when Midoriya was looking at Bakugou.
He wonders if there are any photos of Midoriya looking at him. If that’s a thing that ever happens in real life, in order to capture it. It’s a silly thing to want. It almost feels selfish.
“You look really good,” Midoriya says, looking down at the photo of them and zooming in on Shouto with his fingertips. “You have a really nice smile.”
He does?
Shouto touches his own lips experimentally. He ends up covering up his mouth with his hand, suddenly self-conscious. People have told him he was beautiful before, but that always felt impersonal. At times even transactional.
This…the way Midoriya is looking at him, wide-eyed and honest, it feels like he’s not just being admired, it goes a level deeper. It reminds him of how Midoriya looks at Bakugou, when he calls him Kacchan.
“No!” Midoriya says, taking Shouto’s hand and pulling it away from his face. “Don’t hide it. I love your smile.”
“I love you too,” Shouto says, easy as anything.
Like counting to ten.
He offers his tie forward, then he realizes what Midoriya actually said. Smile. He loves Shouto’s smile.
Oh. Shouto should…he should say something else.
Midoriya takes Shouto’s tie in his left hand, running his fingers along the edge of it as he talks. “You love me too?”
“Your smile,” Shouto says. “That’s what I meant.”
There. That should fix it.
Even if it’s not what he meant. Even if he knows what he wants. His most precious person. The person whose attention feels like love.
“Tsch,” Bakugou says, and Midoriya shoots him a glare.
Clearly now is not the time. Though Shouto’s happy that Bakugou seems to be sticking around, it feels like moral support, even though Bakugou is making a disgusted expression. Very puzzling.
“Right. Sorry to assume,” Midoriya says.
“It’s my mistake.”
“It sounded…it sounded like you meant it,” Midoriya laughs shakily.
He’s not looking Shouto in the eyes, which makes it difficult to read his mood. His eyes are normally the giveaway to what he’s feeling.
But…at least Midoriya is finally touching his tie. He’s playing with it. Rolling it up like those fruit gummy candies that come in rolls. Then he gives it the slightest tug. He might not even have meant to.
Shouto leans forward with his pull, until they’re touching foreheads. Then Midoriya looks up at him and Shouto finally sees his eyes. They’re watering. His cheeks are flushed. Is he going to cry?
“I love your eyes too,” Shouto says.
He loves everything. He loves the freckles on Midoriya’s face, neck, and arms. He loves his shaky grins and his beaming smiles. He loves the way his dark green hair looks when it’s damp, dark and curly. He even loves the sound of Midoriya’s name. Saying it.
He wants to call him Izuku too, one day. Like Bakugou does. He doesn’t think he’s earned it yet, and he’s not sure if he has to earn it or be invited. He doesn’t know how that works.
Midoriya beams. He looks at Shouto like he’s the only person in the room, or maybe the entire world.
Then he leans up, closes the distance and kisses Shouto on the mouth.
“Sorry,” Midoriya says. “I just had to…I…”
“Donʼt apologize,” Shouto says, taking his thumb and stroking Midoriyaʼs soft cheek—wet with tears.
Then he kisses Midoriya again, savoring the moment and he wonders, idly, what a picture would look like of this moment. If he looks as relieved as he feels.
Midoriya is still playing with his tie, like he never wants to let it go. Shouto doesn’t want him to.
He hugs Midoriya to his chest. “Stay for a while.”