No one had ever told him it would be this hard. Not the books, not the slice of life manga, not even the countless romance movies he'd watched like they were his religion through the years. Nothing, and he really means nothing, could have ever prepared him for how bad this would suck.

Midoriya Izuku is lying upside down on his couch, half of his body hanging off the edge, his mess of green curls almost touching the floor and serving as a very ineffective broom. He's got a huge tub of ice cream on his stomach. One that's probably reaching the end because he can already feel the scrape of the spoon at the bottom as he brings increasingly smaller portions to his mouth. His phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker, blaring the cheesiest, most depressing love songs as loud as he dares without risking his neighbours coming to break down his door with pitchforks and torches to stop all the noise. Meanwhile he's sobbing like a child, unattractive snorts and snot hanging off his nose to boot as he sings along to the songs, very much off-key and with his voice breaking every couple of words. He was never much of a singer anyway, that's probably why he went into dance instead. And he can't even do that anymore because he is going to be at the studio and he'll have to see him every day if he keeps going and…

Oh, here come the waterworks again. Izuku honestly thought he'd cried himself all the way to dehydration. In the midst of throwing himself the most pitiful pity party, he doesn't even hear the keys jingling outside the apartment's door and opening it to let in his best friend. He doesn't even remember giving her the keys to begin with but knowing Uraraka, she probably made herself a copy without his knowledge.

Her voice rings clear from the far-off end of the tiny apartment and he doesn't move but for taking another spoonful of cookie dough ice cream to his lips. "Oh my god, Deku-kun, I know you said you needed space but you've been MIA for three days. You didn't even show up to work. I asked Ashido." There's a pause and Izuku can only assume that it's because she finally walked into the living room and found him in his miserable state. "Oh no… This is so much worse than I thought."

Turning his head only enough to spot Uraraka at the entrance to his little hermit's cave and confirm his suspicions, promptly going back to wolfing down the nearly melted contents of the tub resting on his belly. "Hi, Ocha…" His voice is so hoarse he hardly recognises it, likely ruined by his out of pitch screaming nonstop mixed with incessant crying.

"Dear lord, please give me strength. How long have you been like this?" She saunters into the room and straight to him, stopping in front of the couch with her hands on her hips and a raised eyebrow.

Izuku shrugs in response, not even sure what time it even is, let alone how long he's been wallowing in his sorrows, and she sighs heavily in response, sitting down on the little space next to where his ass is somewhat sitting. Uraraka's first order of business seems to be taking away his only source of comfort as she quickly takes the ice cream away from his sticky hands and sets it down on the other side of the couch where he can't even begin to reach it unless he moves. So, clearly, he slumps further into the floor with a miserable and pathetic cry, his shorts sliding halfway down his rear. Any other day he would've probably been embarrassed, but right now all he could feel was the scratchiness of his throat, the prickling at his eyes, the pounding headache quickly settling behind them and the unbearable pain deep in his chest.

"Deku-kun…"

He starts sobbing harder, covering his face with his forearms and weeping into them. "He used to call me Deku…"

The distinctive sound of skin slapping against skin is heard then, and he knows Uraraka's just facepalmed so hard she might've hurt herself. "He still calls you Deku. Everyone over at the studio calls you Deku. Need I remind you that you're the one who broke up with him?"

No. No she doesn't. But as soon as those words reach his ears he breaks down into wails and falls the rest of the way off the couch, curling in on himself into as tiny a ball as he can manage and hoping the ground will just swallow him up and end his existence. "B-b-because you t-t-told me to!" Izuku stutters through broken breaths and heaving sobs, grabbing handfuls of his curls and tugging at them painfully.

Uraraka kneels down next to him and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder, causing him to shrink further, shying away from the touch. "Your relationship wasn't healthy. Izuku, how many times did I find you crying just as hard as this because of him? He was a jerk to you. Well he's a jerk to everyone but you get the point. You deserve so much better."

Whimpering once more, Izuku turns around and wraps his arms around Uraraka's waist, crying into her pretty shirt with no remorse. "It j-just hurts s-so much…" The pads of her fingers weave through his tangled hair, petting him comfortingly as she whispers sweet words he hardly hears over the music that's still playing over the speakers. "K-Kacchan was the only one I've e-ever loved…" He pauses to take a gasping breath. "I still love him…"

"I know." Uraraka sighs again, but this time it's not exasperated as much as it is understanding and sympathetic. "Which is why you need to get out of here. Stop thinking about him and start moving on."

The weak and dejected little hum Izuku gives her in response makes her squeeze him a tiny bit tighter, patting his head a couple of times before letting him cry himself out for a few more minutes. He doesn't think he's ever had a friend as caring and understanding as Uraraka. She was the one who managed to convince him to finally break things off with his childhood friend turned lover because clearly some things weren't quite right with their relationship. The good times were really good but they didn't justify all the bad things. All the arguments, all the yelling and the breaking things, all the explosive actions and jealous episodes, the possessiveness and the constant anger. Izuku knows that deep down, Kacchan isn't a bad person. He's an impulsive, overconfident guy with a temper who can be a bit of a dick, sure, but he's not bad. They just weren't good for each other, for as much as Izuku loves him and he's sure he loves Izuku in return, their relationship was toxic. Izuku can see that now.

But it doesn't make it hurt any less. And Uraraka knows this, if the way she's gently cooing him into calming down his ragged breaths and stop his rush of never-ending tears is anything to go by.

When he manages to settle, at last, Izuku sits up, rubbing at sore eyes with an absolutely miserable expression plastered onto his face. Uraraka offers him a small, encouraging smile and he forces himself to return it with a sad one as wide as he can muster it. Shoving a pack of tissues into his hands, she strokes his face soothingly before giving it two gentle slaps.

"Blow your nose for goodness' sake." That draws a tiny laugh from him and she grins triumphantly while he does as he was told. "You look like a mess."

"Gee, thanks." Izuku's croaking voice drips with sarcasm and she giggles at that, to which he sticks his tongue out in return. Maturity is something he definitely doesn't lack.

"Now, you're going to get a much-needed shower while I make you proper food. Then we're going out to get you out of the dumps." She orders as she gets to her feet and skips over to the kitchenette that's attached to the living room.

Izuku shoots her an apologetic glance before staring at his hands laying lamely on his lap, still sitting on the floor and not making a move to get up at all. "Ocha… I don't think I'm up for it… I can barely stomach the idea of going back to the studio knowing he's gonna be there. And you know how much I love dancing there… Going out doesn't sound like something I can bring myself to do just yet."

Before he can even take another breath, Uraraka's back in front of him, startling him into falling backwards at the sheer speed with which she got there. "Nonsense! I'm taking you to a club where you can get a little drunk and dance your ass off. You'll see that by the end of tonight you'll be feeling like a brand-new person! Tomorrow was your day off anyway, right? If you're not fired from your job already, that is."

"I called in sick, actually." Izuku explained, rubbing at his sore eyes. In his defence, he wouldn't have been any good at managing orders in his state unless costumers wanted their drinks spiced with the salty tears of a broken-hearted bartender. He was sure that Ashido could handle his shifts for the time being, plus she kept saying she needed the extra cash so, win-win, right?

"Love sick doesn't count, Deku-kun." Uraraka tuts at him, throwing a towel at his face that he doesn't even know where she'd got it from.

"Aizawa-san doesn't need to know that." He mutters, staring dumbfoundedly from the towel to Uraraka's unwavering expression. Rolling his eyes and immediately regretting that action from the way it makes his head throb, he lets out a resigned sigh. "Fine… But if I drunk dial Kacchan, I'm blaming you."

"Like I'd ever let you do that. Who do you take me for?" On her way to the kitchenette, Uraraka picks his phone off where he'd left it somewhere on the floor and finally shuts off the depressing music. "You got ten minutes to get ready, it's already half past nine."

Izuku jumps to his feet with widening eyes at the shock and the world starts spinning as soon as he does so. Getting up that quickly after what seems to have been a whole afternoon of hanging upside down is definitely not a good idea. He braces himself against the side of his couch and shakes his head back into clarity before clambering to the bathroom and stripping off his sweaty and tear-stained clothes.

As soon as the warm water starts washing out the grime that's built on his skin over the past few days he refused to do anything other than eat, sleep and cry, Izuku realises how good it actually feels to be clean. He takes his time washing out his tangled curls, relishing in the way the water cascades down his body and lifts at least some of the pressure off of his chest. Trying not to think about all the times he's shared this very shower with his (ex)boyfriend, Izuku focuses instead on the motions of rubbing the soreness out of his muscles. He gets lost in avoiding his thoughts and doesn't notice the time passing until Uraraka knocking on the bathroom door makes him jump out of his skin and almost injure himself.

"You've been in there for nearly twenty minutes!"

"S-sorry! I'll get out in a second!"

Shutting off the water and wincing at how much he must've wasted and how it will reflect on his bills that month, Izuku quickly dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waste to rush to his bedroom and put on some clothes. But instead he finds himself face to face with Uraraka holding up a pill and a glass of water.

"For your head." He takes them from her hands with a word of gratitude and realises he's actually parched, chugging the water in one go and still feeling thirsty by the end of it. "You'll get more once you're dressed, now hurry."

When he's already behind the closed door he hears her shouting from the other side to put on something nice and he can't help the small smile that stretches across his lips. She really is a good friend… He already feels a lot better from just having her bubbly presence around him. And, of course, the shower helped a ton as well, but he most likely wouldn't have done it were it not for her telling him to, so really, this was all thanks to her. He makes sure to dig one of the shirts she's left at his house from the countless times she's slept over to replace the one he'd just soiled with his messy crying and ice cream covered hands before running out of the room.

Uraraka raises one eyebrow at him, clearly not impressed with his choice of outfit: a very well-loved (read: torn and washed out) green hoodie and dark skinny jeans. Taking the shirt from his hands and tossing her own over her head, much to his embarrassment, she starts telling him to eat what she'd prepared. Izuku's honestly not that hungry, but he has to admit a diet comprised of only cookie dough ice cream isn't exactly nutritious so he sits down and starts munching slowly on the eggs and toast she whipped up for him.

"While you finish that," Uraraka sets another glass of water in front of him. "I'll be looking for a decent shirt for you to wear."

"I'm fine like this." Izuku complains, earning himself a playful smack to the back of the head for speaking with his mouth full.

"Not in a million years. How are you going to attract any boys dressed like you just got out of a bad break up?" She bellows on her way to his closet.

"I did just get out of a bad break up!"

Her head sticks out from the door and she frowns. "But you don't want to look like it."

Izuku simply shakes his head, continuing to chew on the fluffy eggs. There's no arguing with her when she gets like this, especially when he's the one she's trying to micromanage. In the end, they leave his apartment some time around ten past ten with him wearing a tank top he feels is a little too revealing for the situation at hand. But she insists that he looks great and should show off his 'rockin' bod' as she put it. It sounds like something straight out of Ashido's mouth and he wonders if maybe those two have been spending a little too much time together.

They finally make it to a club somewhere not too far from his house, as per his request in case he feels it's all a little too much and just wants to get back home as soon as possible. Understanding as always, Uraraka agreed to this condition, which was also, coincidentally, how she got him to wear the revealing tank top. Compromises, she says. Izuku sighs as they're let into the club, immediately feeling his skin clamming from the unbearable heat of swaying bodies, and thanking all the gods above that his headache had subsided. Otherwise he'd be on his merry way to dying of a liquifying brain, what with the loud music that made the floor itself tremble slightly.

As soon as they lean against the bar for the first of many drinks that night, Izuku is already starting to regret every single decision that has led him to this very moment. "Ocha… This wasn't a good idea… I think I should just go home. You've already helped me a whole bunch, I don't need this…" He has to shout over the music for her to actually get anything of what he's saying.

"Deku-kun, at least give it a chance. Just try to have some fun, okay? I'm worried about you…" Uraraka leans into him, flashing him the puppy dog eyes he was never able to resist from the moment they first met back in college. She was begging him to slip her and her friends some drinks because he was a few months older and already of legal age when she wasn't. Great way to start off a friendship… With a felony. That aside, however, she really did look like she was concerned for his mental health, if anything.

Nodding weakly, Izuku agrees. "Okay, just a few drinks though." No harm in that, right?

Oh, how wrong he was. He's on his third fruity drink, probably a 'Sex on the Beach' or maybe it was a 'Charred Orange Margarita' that he wasn't exactly tasting. Whatever it was, the tequila and vodka shots he had before that were definitely not helping his condition. Izuku is on the verge of tears, going on a rant about calling Kacchan to patch things up again and Uraraka is still completely sober despite having had just as much liquor as him and holding his phone away.

"No way, this is mine for the rest of the night."

"B-but-" he's broken off by a tiny sob. "Maybe he'll change! I need… I need to tell him that I love him and we can start over! A-as if nothing ever happened!" His words are slurred beyond comprehension, but somehow Uraraka seems to understand everything perfectly as if he had any semblance of composure and articulation.

She slips a glass of cold water in front of him. "Drink this, and then drink another. It'll help you sober up a tiny bit. Trust me, you don't want to get back with Bakugou, so I'm doing you a favour by keeping your phone."

"Ocha…" He drawls out the name, letting his head fall to the counter in defeat, despite his inebriation knowing very well that she won't budge even a little.

Izuku follows her advice and lays off the alcohol in turn of some cool water, still not daring to go to the dancefloor. Even drunk he can't seem to find it in himself to get back to it, not when it was what he and Kacchan held dearest between them. Already regaining some of his sobriety, though not much, he's taking a sip from his water when he chokes on the liquid, thinking he's clearly dreaming when he spots the person just stepping into the club.

The guy is tall and lean, his hair split straight down the middle with two different colours he can't quite make out in the dim light of the club but definitely sees are completely contrasting. When a particularly bright spotlight shines straight on him, it feels like time slows as Izuku lets his mouth hang open in awe. He can now see that his hair is snow white on the right side and a deep fiery red on the left, falling over his eyes just the tiniest bit. It is covering what looks like a birthmark that stretches over the left one, which is a striking blue, and down to half his cheek.

Wide-eyed, Izuku turns back to the bar in an instant, feeling his face heat up and not even knowing why. It's just a guy. An extremely attractive guy, but a complete stranger nonetheless. Still, his uninhibited alcohol-filled brain seems to forget to filter thoughts from reaching his mouth and he blurts out "Did an angel just walk in or am I just hallucinating?"

Uraraka follows his previous line of sight and whistles. "Damn, he's pretty."

"Gorgeous." His mouth spews before he can once again stop himself.

"Think his hair is really like that or does he dye it?" She asks with a small giggle, clapping him on the shoulder. "You should go ask him."

"What?! Are you crazy?" Izuku whisper-shouts, hiding his still blushing face in his arms. "I don't know how to talk to guys! Let alone guys that hot!" Halfway through that sentence, he remembers the real reason he should not do that. "I just broke up with Kacchan!"

"So? All the more reason for you to get out there and meet new people. Have a one-night stand with a hot guy, it'll do you some good."

"He's with a girl. He's probably straight." Izuku reasons, trying to talk Uraraka down. Trying to talk himself down. When was the last time he was attracted to anyone who wasn't Kacchan? Never. That's it, he's never been attracted to anyone else. He's just drunk, it's the liquor talking, beer googles. Or cocktail goggles in this case.

"With hair like that? I'm sorry, Deku-kun, there's no way he's straight."

"Even if that was true," Izuku takes another glance at the insanely hot guy walking over to the dance floor with the equally attractive girl behind him. "there's no way I'm talking to him."

And then suddenly, as if the universe is trying to mock him, the music changes and his favourite song starts playing. He feels Uraraka's devious smirk aimed at him before he actually turns to see it. "Well… You don't really have to talk to him…"

"No." Izuku deadpans before she has even the chance to start suggesting what she's thinking of suggesting. "I'm drunk but not that drunk."

"Yes, you are." She shoots back with a sly grin.

"Yes, I am." Damn it, why does she know me so well. He feels his body start to itch with a need he's much too familiar with, his foot tapping along to the beat and his hips start to swing with the flow of the music. "I hate you." He murmurs, taking Uraraka's Vodka Martini and chugging it down then making his way to the dancefloor where the mysterious guy is dancing with the girl.

He reaches them just as the song is reaching its second verse and he feels the music flow straight into his body, filling his veins with this kind of electricity that just spreads to the tips of his toes and makes him want to move. Izuku doesn't think about it, he never has, just lets his limbs move to the beat, movements precise yet fluid as they take him through the dancefloor as if he's floating high above in the clouds.

The crowd clears up as soon as he starts moving, watching him with curious smiles on their faces, and the half-split guy is no exception. He turns to him with interest shining in those eyes Izuku now sees are also mismatched and watches him. Izuku thrusts his hips in time with the beat, flowing into quick footwork and swinging with languid movements as his hands slide down his body, drawing attention to the way it flows like a wave. He twists and turns on the tips of his toes, his eyes always focused on the guy that's watching him just as intently and it feels amazing. He almost doesn't care that he's probably making a fool of himself to a stranger he's never seen before in his life.

When he finishes with a hand running down his hair and another rubbing up his thigh, a small trilling laugh at his lips and hollers from the crowd, what he doesn't expect is the guy stepping in front of him with a cocky half-smirk and mimicking some of his moves. He adds a twist of his own to a few of them as the music changes, moving with a meticulousness he's not used to seeing in this kind of dance but is mesmerising nonetheless. The song finishes and switches to something else entirely, and the crowd gets back to dancing without a care in the world, the moment gone as if it had never even happened.

But the guy is still in front of him, brushing the dual coloured hair from his face and smiling at him again. His lips move but Izuku can't quite hear it over the loud music, yet the way he starts moving towards the bar with a gesture of 'coming?' with his head, gives him all the context he needs. With the invitation follow more drinks and more dancing and then the rest of the night is a blur.

Izuku wakes up the next morning on the floor with a groan, having fallen off his bed sometime during the night and being too drunk to get himself back up, most likely. He rubs his face blearily, feeling the hangover hammering at the back of his head painfully and noticing that he's still in his clothes from the night at the club. His memories of what happened are fuzzy, all he remembers being Uraraka stealing his phone before he drunkenly called his ex, begging him to take him back. And when he finally properly opens his eyes, he looks at his forearm and shoots up with a scream.

The night before comes crashing into him like a ton of bricks when he sees the number scrawled on his skin messily, the name 'Todoroki Shouto' written below it in beautiful handwriting despite the horrible medium in which it was jotted down. Oh no… Oh no… He got really drunk and tried to seduce a complete stranger way out of his league by dancing for him. After just breaking up from a long-term relationship. His only relationship ever. And it somehow… worked?

"What the actual fuck?"

NOTES: I kept watching choreography videos and imagining Izuku dancing them for Todoroki and then this idea popped up into my head... And then it wouldn't leave me alone for the life of me... SO despite not knowing anything decent about dance, here it is! Please forgive my ignorance when it comes to techniques and the works of the dancing world but I'm trying my best hehe

Anyways, hope that was enjoyable at the very least and feel free to leave any feedback you may have! (Tips on dance moves and the basics of dance companies are welcome!)