The Three of Us
Guess what I just watched last night.
Everything throbbed. Izuku’s hands and arm were on fire. He’d barely made it three steps out of Recovery Girl’s room before stumbling. His legs trembled, bolts of electricity shooting up them. It left a strange tingling sensation in its wake, the effects of Recovery Girl’s Quirk still trying to combat the pain. Gasping, he fell against the wall, then hissed. Now his shoulder hurt too, dammit. He tried to shift to a better position, back to the wall now, and cradled his bandaged arm in his hand. He could feel the crookedness to his fingers beneath, along with the lingering tingles of pain. He gritted his teeth. Maybe it had been a bad idea to push himself that much. And in front of everyone too, god—
“Kacchan’s gonna kill me,” he muttered, the back of his head thumping to the wall as he closed his eyes. He probably should’ve thought more before pulling that kind of stunt in front of his explosive, hard-tempered boyfriend. He’d already been yelled at multiple times for letting his Quirk damage him like this. He wasn’t looking forward to it again. But…
He couldn’t bring himself to regret it. It had been for Todoroki.
Letting out a strained breath, he gazed down at his mended hands again. He couldn’t imagine what Todoroki’s life must’ve been like before coming to U.A., how much suffering he endured, how many times he must’ve felt worthless, nothing more than a pawn in his father’s sick game. But he needed to see. He needed to know that he could be so much more than a pawn, he could be something incredible, and it had nothing to do with Endeavor.
He may have had a vision of grandeur, but Todoroki had one too. And his would make him more of a hero than his father ever was.
“I don’t regret pushing him to see that,” Izuku breathed to himself. The image came, unbidden, of Todoroki just as his left side had burst into flames; tongues of bright orange leaping from his skin and mingling with the red fire of his hair. Izuku found himself closing his eyes again, face suddenly hot.
He’d looked so beautiful.
Izuku’s head snapped up, the familiar voice ringing out in the empty hall. His eyes widened when he saw Todoroki a few yards away, as if pulled from Izuku’s thoughts. They’d given him a change of clothes, probably because he’d burned through half of his own uniform during the match. He faced Izuku with bandages dotting his skin, expression unreadable. Izuku felt like he was being watched almost too closely by those bicolored eyes.
“T—Todoroki,” he stammered, managing a wobbly smile. He forced himself off of the wall and shuffled forward a few steps. “How’re you doing? I mean, they took care of you, right?”
“Yeah.” Todoroki’s voice didn’t change from that low, measured pitch. His eyes flicked over Izuku’s beaten form, as he stepped toward him, slow and almost…nervous? “What about you?”
“I’ve been better,” Izuku admitted. “But I’m okay, really.” Smiling wider, he lifted his hand and flexed his fingers. “See, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
That near-blank expression didn’t leave Todoroki’s face, but the slightest curve appeared to his lips. “I’m glad.”
Feeling himself flush a bit, Izuku dropped his hand back to his side. “So…I guess I’m gonna get to watch you in the next mat—”
It happened too fast for him to react.
In a sudden burst of movement, Todoroki strode to him in three steps, lifted his hands to his face, and kissed him.
Izuku’s heart backflipped against his ribs. At first, there was a flash of light, and heat, and want, but—Kacchan. Guilt prickled somewhere beneath it all and he thought that he should pull away. But Todoroki’s grip on his jaw gentled until he was cradling Izuku’s face, thumbs stroking across his cheeks. After the first, hard press of his lips on Izuku’s, he let a gasp of air appear between them to whisper, “Izuku.”
A shiver leapt up Izuku’s spine and he forgot everything except the want to be in this moment, here, now. “Shouto,” he breathed back, wrapping his arms around Todoroki’s shoulders and angling his head to meet his mouth again.
Izuku parted his lips this time to taste his breaths, his tongue, and Shouto moaned quietly against him. He took Izuku by the waist, pulling him in, until there wasn’t a centimeter of space separating them. There was nothing but the press of their bodies together, the way they fit like they were made for this. Izuku inhaled a quick breath through his nose, not willing to break the kiss just yet. Shouto smelled amazing, a mix of sheer cold and ash that made Izuku lightheaded. He melted into Shouto’s arms and felt one of Shouto’s hands slide up his back to his hair, locking curls between his fingers. He never wanted to stop, and when Shouto broke the kiss, Izuku gave a small, disappointed whine. With lips still grazing his, Shouto whispered into his mouth, “I’m in love with you.” Izuku’s entire world trembled, and he didn’t know if it was falling apart or being pieced back together at the same time.
“HEY! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”
Izuku’s eyes shot open wide, a feeling like icy water doused over his body. He had to force himself to tear away from Shouto, gaze landing on the figure standing down the hall from them, watching them. His heart plummeted to the floor. He’d know those scorching eyes anywhere, the pop of angry sparks.
Katsuki glared first at Izuku, then at Shouto, a tangle of hurt and rage written across his face. As Izuku watched in horror, he jabbed a finger at Shouto. “You better have a damn good explanation, half-and-half bastard, before I blow your fucking face off!”