Their first kiss is chaste. It's sweet, innocent, and pure bliss.
Their second kiss is anything but; it's longing, passionate, and blinding ecstasy, as their lips part and mold into each other like they were made for this, like their lips are meant to slot perfectly into one another's. They're still on the piano bench when Shouto attempts to pull Izuku into his lap, and the bench really isn't meant for that kind of movement and it skids a bit underneath them, to the point that Izuku draws back first, huffs an airy, flushed laugh and grabs Shouto's hand, confidence restored, and pulls him to the couch.
Shouto finds it much easier to grab onto Izuku's hips and pull him down, and their third kiss is hot, it's sexy, it's wet where their tongues desperately tangle together. Izuku's making small, adorable noises that Shouto is perfectly content to swallow for the rest of his life, and Shouto returns the favor with small huffs and the occasional grunt that has Izuku's hips rocking downward onto his. Their lips part for a moment as they both gasp desperately for breath, and in those breaths Izuku chokes out, "How long?"
It almost pains Shouto to admit how long he's been in desperate need of Izuku's lips on his. "Too long," he settles for, leans forward to capture Izuku's lips when he's ready, and Izuku meets him halfway. The lips on his migrate downward, first to his chin, then further down the side of his neck until they meet his collarbone, when Shouto's emergency phone in his pocket begins to ring. Both of them groan – Izuku in almost defiance, and it's fucking hot but Shouto pushes the thought away before he answers. "Shouto," he says, and his voice is hoarse and he hopes it can be passed off as his sleepy morning voice.
"Hey!" Eijirou chirps on the other line, and Shouto's shoulders visibly relax from where they unknowingly tensed. "Got today's status update for you."
Shouto exhales; he'd nearly forgotten about the status updates. He'd been receiving them from Katsuki in the beginning, but Shouto finds that Katsuki likes to not go into detail on events not involving himself, and he also likes to finish out his status updates with a quick jab, a go fuck yourself, half n' half. Shouto discovers one day when Eijirou gives a status update for Katsuki (who's sleeping off a mild fever) that he's much more informative, and almost more importantly, he's not a prick.
"What's up?" Shouto prompts, even with Izuku in his lap, like this is normal. He can't hide the oncoming of a smile, because maybe this can be normal.
"No sign of Toga just yet, but no reports of other break-outs in the area. There's still local police forces stationed at all the highways leading from town, still checking Quirk registration and identifications on these people. A group of side heroes is storming a suspicious warehouse today that we think might be used as a hideout."
"Thanks, Red Riot," Shouto replies.
"Hey, you sound happy!" Shouto immediately drops the smile. "Having fun running reports?"
Eijirou has always been friendly, and while most of the time Shouto at the least tolerates it and at the most appreciates it, now he's finding that he really doesn't want to be on the phone any longer than he has to be, because he really wants his lips back on Izuku's. Said man is squirming in his lap, trying to wriggle free, but Shouto's arm wraps around his waist and holds him there. Izuku squeaks and clamps a hand over his mouth, but not quickly enough, and Shouto can hear Eijirou laughing in the background.
"Shut up," Shouto murmurs.
"You could have just told me!" Eijirou laughs, and Shouto can practically hear him winking. "I'll call back later with an update on the warehouse thing. You two have fun!"
"Shut up," Shouto repeats more sternly, but Eijirou's already cooing out a goodbye and Shouto's sure he didn't hear him. He groans and tucks his phone back into his pocket, burying his forehead in Izuku's shoulder.
"What was that about?" Izuku asks, his tone lilting and singsongy, like he's riding out the same blissful high of Shouto's lips that Shouto is of Izuku's.
"Eijirou," Shouto murmurs back, his voice satisfyingly muffled by Izuku's skin. "He calls with a status update every morning."
Izuku hums, an acknowledgement, before his fingers knot ever so delicately in Shouto's hair. "And?" he prompts, his voice quiet, far away like he's nervous, and Shouto exhales.
He hates keeping this filthy secret from Izuku. It weighs heavy on him every conscious moment of his day while at work, or while spending time with Izuku. He sees top-secret email notifications roll through on his emergency phone, deciphering the day's events and sending countless reports, eyewitness accounts, and otherwise important documents in the case. He loves Symbols of Peace, he certainly enjoys it more than his early job at his father's agency, but it's moments like these that make his job so difficult. Pouring out hours upon hours reading analyses of data Shouto wasn't hired to understand, bending over his work desk in the early hours of the morning following Loverman's gigs. His work threatens to swallow him, all while his love and guilt combat each other over every new email notification he receives, every time his phone rings with another status call from Eijirou.
Shouto decides that maybe now, after they've just shared their first kiss and Izuku is possibly still recovering from a Quirk, is not quite the time to talk about Toga's reappearance.
"Just a few things happening today," Shouto says softly. "A group of side heroes are charging an abandoned warehouse that might be in operation as a villain hideout."
"So cool!" Izuku says, his voice an excited whisper. Shouto withdraws from Izuku's shoulder to get a look at Izuku's face, alight with such a radiant, glowing smile that Shouto wants to kiss it off him, and so he does. And that smile recedes, only for a moment, before Izuku's smiling against his lips and his fingers are tightening ever so gently in Shouto's hair.
There are no external forces to tear them apart this time, so Shouto vows to take his damn time exploring Izuku's mouth. Their kisses are slow, tame compared to the passion swallowing them before. Shouto can taste Izuku's coffee, the slight bitterness on his tongue that's absolutely intoxicating. And his hands are free to roam, so they meet Izuku's hips, at first through the tee shirt draping just slightly off Izuku's shoulder, before slipping underneath the fabric to feel the smooth, warm skin of Izuku's bare hips.
His morning is shot. He doesn't look at the reports again until after he and Izuku order lunch, until after he reluctantly drives Izuku home. And when his apartment is empty again, he finds that while he looks at the reports now, he doesn't see much; his mind is too preoccupied, too focused on the feel of Izuku's tongue and how much better it is than Shouto has been imagining.
He goes into the office the following Thursday, finds a coffee and a muffin waiting on his desk. And, probably most importantly, an incredibly cute boy currently dozing in his office chair.
Shouto shucks off his jacket and hangs it in the closet, then crosses the room, his footsteps annoyingly loud on the marble tile. Izuku stirs, snaps his eyes awake wide and panicked, before they scan the desk in front of him and Shouto meandering closer. And his smile, his beautiful, sleepy smile, is so precious.
Izuku wears his hair sleek. It's pulled into a high ponytail, with a decent portion of the hairs at the back of his head falling out of the tie with it being so short. It's a wig Shouto's seen before – pale blond at the top, with bubblegum pink ends. It's adorable, and Shouto doesn't hesitate to mention so, now. "You look adorable," he murmurs as he gets close enough to lean down and peck a kiss to that bright, warm smile. And Izuku only beams harder.
"Kamiko let me up," Izuku offers as an explanation, tucks a strand of hair that's fallen from his ponytail behind his ear. He rises from the desk chair, pecks another kiss to Shouto's lips before crossing the room and settling instead on the couch. "I got you breakfast!"
"I can see that," Shouto hums, sips the coffee. It's lukewarm now; Shouto warms it with his left hand. "What's the special occasion?"
"I wanted to know if you're free tonight for an impromptu gig," Izuku says, tracing Shouto with his eyes as the latter settles into his desk chair. Shouto's response is a quirked brow and another sip of the coffee, then a croon of deliberation.
"I think so," he says finally, sets the coffee cup aside and unlocks his desktop computer. He pulls up his work calendar, finds that his evening is empty but tomorrow morning he has patrol duty starting at six. He resigns himself to a night of little sleep and a morning of extra coffee. He looks past the monitors and back to Izuku, who has taken the hairtie out of his hair and is attempting to redo the slipping ponytail. "Why, who's so special that they can call on the day of for Loverman?"
Izuku finally manages to retie his hair, though again most of the back is ignored in favor of tying the top half securely. He settles his gaze on Shouto's face, a warm smile spreading across his cheeks that Shouto thinks he will never, ever get sick of. "Tenya," he states through that smile.
"Tenya," Shouto repeats, as he tries to understand. Has Tenya bought a bar, or something?
"He's proposing tonight."
Ah, right.
Shouto nods, his brain coming up to speed on what's happening here. A retry of last time Tenya and Ochaco attended a gig, he thinks vaguely. "Where at?" he asks, wheeling his desk chair around the side of his desk so he can clearly see Izuku. Izuku's eyes follow his every movement.
"There's this recreational park on the outskirts of town, I guess," Izuku muses. "I haven't been there, but Tenya mentioned there's a huge pond and everything. He said he'll supply the piano if I supply the music," he says with a sigh of a laugh. "I need to make it perfect."
"Will you be dressing up?" Shouto asks casually, shifts in his seat so he can sit up, leg crossed over his knee. The question is more in reference to Izuku's wigs, his contacts, but Izuku cocks his head like the question is the most confusing one Izuku's ever heard.
"Of course," he states after a moment. He looks so cute when he's confused. "I've got a pink suit already picked out, and everything!"
"I meant," Shouto leans forward, "Loverman. Will you be…?"
"Oh," Izuku replies, looks up at the ceiling like he's deliberating. He looks around a bit more, his eyes skim over the bookshelf and the desk and the coffee table in front of him that has several reports Shouto's yet to finish. Finally his eyes resettle on Shouto and he wears a frown that looks more like a pout than anything. "What do you think, Shouto?"
"What do I think?" Shouto repeats, his eyes widening slightly in his own confusion. "I think it's your choice. I'll protect you either way."
Izuku purses his lips around a smile. "I haven't—well, I haven't performed without a wig since, um, since I started doing this," he gestures vaguely to himself.
"You go without contacts sometimes," Shouto points out. "What's the difference?"
"Well, ah…" Izuku tugs at the hair, at the little strands that fall down the nape of his neck as he speaks. "It's um, kind of recognizable? My actual hair, I mean."
Shouto blinks. "You have, like, a hundred different wigs," he deadpans, relaxing back into his chair as he grabs the muffin on his desk.
"One hundred and forty-nine," Izuku corrects with a short sigh. He lets his hands fall back into his lap, watches them instead of Shouto as he continues. "I don't know, it's just a bit nerve-wracking."
"Understandable," Shouto hums. "I think if I had the choice, I'd cover my natural hair up sometimes, too."
Izuku huffs a quiet laugh. "Yeah, the half-red half-white doesn't do you any favors on stealth missions."
The small talk continues for a few moments, takes their conversation and drags it on a short, roundabout side quest until Izuku mentions the way his hair springs back into its curls the second he towels it after he gets out of the shower. And Shouto's found it, his shortcut back to the main point of the conversation. "So, is that a no to the wig tonight?" he asks, sipping his coffee and tipping his head to the side. Izuku's smile, bright as it is, softens into something more pensive. And it's still bright, but more in the way the beginnings of a sunrise are bright compared to the night. Shouto decides, with blissful ease, that it's just as beautiful.
"I mean, it is a private venue," Izuku hums. "And Tenya already called and reserved the whole park for the night, so…I think I'd like to play a gig as Izuku again, maybe just this once."
Izuku stays in Shouto's office with him for most of the morning, and they get lunch at the same deli as before. Though this time, Shouto has the forethought to put his hat on before they leave the building, and Izuku does the same. The roads are relatively quiet even midday, with the cold in the air. It's supposed to snow today, and Izuku voices as they walk that he wonders if Tenya knows; if that's why Tenya has chosen tonight. Ochaco loves the snow, Izuku explains as they continue down the road, as Shouto holds open the door to the deli for Izuku to step inside. She says the snowflakes float even without her help.
They don't hold hands, more for Izuku's sake than anything. The hat doesn't cover all his hair, and while Loverman is notoriously hard to spot by paparazzi because his appearance is so ever-changing, Shouto doesn't want to risk anything. Instead, they settle for brushing shoulders, and for seating themselves in the farthest table of the deli. Shouto hesitates taking his hat off, but eventually he resigns himself; even with the ability to regulate his temperature, he can feel the sudden shift of the cool outdoors to the warm deli making his hair stick sweaty to his forehead and neck.
Lunch is nice. Shouto and Izuku order the exact same thing – again – and Izuku stifles a giggle when Shouto orders a strawberry milkshake. He doesn't get much teasing in, though, as he's ordered himself a hot cocoa.
Shouto is generally shocked at how much stays the same. Even having had Izuku's tongue in his mouth just days prior, even with the other times he's had Izuku's tongue in his mouth from then until now, it all feels…the same. The lunch dates, the muffins, the way Izuku chides Shouto for not taking proper breaks during his workday. And Shouto realizes, with a great wave of some unknown emotion, that he's perfectly content with this. With Izuku in front of him at the table, talking about some recent hero that's been making their way through the media – one with a Quirk similar to Eijirou's, but not nearly as ripped yet. Izuku comments on this especially, several times, making comments that "Eijirou's still stronger" or "Eijirou will always be a step ahead of him", but there's always a "but" that follows.
Shouto pays while Izuku is in the bathroom. When Izuku comes back, he's waving his wallet around, proudly proclaiming it's his turn to pay, and Shouto, as innocently as he can manage, tells him to front the bill next time. And Izuku playfully pouts all the way back to the agency, all the way up to Shouto's office.
Where All Might sits on the couch Izuku had so casually claimed as his own earlier that morning.
Izuku bids his farewell shortly after he and All Might have a short conversation – Shouto still finds it funny the matching star-struck expressions they wear interacting with each other – and All Might scolds him in that roundabout way. The way where he sandwiches it between two things Shouto has been doing well, says his hero work is going great but those damn reports, boy but he's perfectly suited to protect Loverman! And the sentiment nearly gives him whiplash with the ease that All Might draws out his threatening voice then shoves it away again.
Needless to say, he finishes the reports that afternoon.
"Shouto, can you fix my tie?"
Shouto is borrowing Izuku's bedroom to get ready while Izuku fumbles around in his cavern of a closet. When he emerges, it's with no wig (quite thankfully), but they mutually decide that Izuku should wear contacts and cover his freckles. Shouto has trouble admitting this, honestly – doesn't want to bid Izuku's freckles farewell, even for a moment – but when Izuku says he should, Shouto can't object.
Izuku bounds out of the closet, his freckles sufficiently covered and his eyes sufficiently pink. He wears a pastel pink blazer over a white shirt, and white slacks with a navy belt. His tie is navy and white polka dots, and it's a damn monstrosity around Izuku's neck right now, all knotted and out of place. Shouto hides a snicker behind his palm. "Hey, hey," Izuku whines, "you knew I was bad at this before you took on the job, you can't tease me about it now."
"Sorry," Shouto amends, grabs him by that matted mess and pulls Izuku close, uses his free hand to tip Izuku's chin up. Their lips meet like everything is right in the world, just like they're supposed to connect like this and anytime they aren't connected is a wasted opportunity. Izuku's hands wind around Shouto's neck, and Shouto finds himself drifting further towards a point of no return, a point where he finally, finally gets to bend Izuku over his bed and—
"My tie," Izuku says, pulls their lips apart with a soft noise that reverberates off Shouto's skull. His eyes flutter open, and Izuku stares up at him, lips slightly parted, just a tad pinker than before. And his cheeks, Shouto can see his cheeks under that light layer of foundation, the faintest dots of freckles, the blush blending so handsomely with the color of his skin. "Shouto," Izuku murmurs, those eyes wide, and he's leaning in again before Shouto can even cultivate a response on his tongue.
They're interrupted, this time, by a phone call. It's Izuku's phone, playing "A phone call…is here!" Which is notorious as All Might's ringtone, as portrayed on the shitty television series released back before either of them could even speak. Izuku draws back with an embarrassed giggle, pulls his phone out of the pocket of his slacks.
"It's Tenya!" Izuku says, and Shouto self-consciously checks the time. They still have almost thirty minutes before they have to leave, and Shouto huffs a small sigh of relief as Izuku answers the phone on speaker. "Hey, Tenya!" he chirps, warm and bubbly and so, so beautiful.
"Izuku!" Tenya calls back, and Shouto can practically hear the stiff-armed gesture through the phone. "It's snowing!"
Izuku hums and peers out the window of his bedroom. Shouto looks, too; it's been coming down since early afternoon, but now it's a little harder to see, especially with the daylight receding. "That it is," Izuku says.
"Will you and Shouto be able to make it here okay?"
Izuku directs his attention from the window to Shouto. "We should be," Shouto murmurs.
"Ah, Shouto!" Again, Shouto can hear the gesture. "I was just making sure. I'm—I'm really nervous."
"It'll be alright," Izuku says, and his voice, though Shouto can't tell what sounds so different about it, feels much more soothing now. Not that it isn't soothing normally, but Izuku's putting effort into it now, and Shouto feels calmer already and he wasn't afraid to begin with. "You and Ochaco have been together for almost as long as I've known you."
"Eight years," Tenya sighs on the other end. "I've been saving up for this ring for the past year and a half."
"And she'll love it!" Izuku replies.
Shouto takes to fixing Izuku's tie while they speak. He's never been quite good at conversation, especially when it comes to comforting others, unless they're in physical danger; he has no idea what he'd even say to Tenya in this situation. He's relatively confident if it were Izuku, it wouldn't go terribly, but that's only because Izuku has a cute face. Which isn't to say Tenya doesn't—he feels like he's digging himself into a hole here—
"Shouto," Izuku murmurs as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. Shouto hadn't even registered their exchanges of goodbyes. "Are you ready to go?"
Shouto straightens, observes his work; stellar, as always. Shouto's tied Izuku's tie for him dozens of times by now, and Izuku has gotten over his habit of stealing a glance in the mirror to make sure Shouto hasn't tied it stupidly. "Yeah," he replies, soft.
The car ride is quiet, for the most part. Izuku drums his fingers on the dash with his eyes closed, moves them in a way so mesmerizing that Shouto bans himself from glancing over at Izuku unless they're stopped at a light. The roads are slick, so Shouto drives slower, but it's okay; he'd accounted for this in telling Izuku when they had to leave. His car is more than capable of handling a little snow on the road.
When they pull into the park's parking lot, Izuku's eyes open and immediately shut and open again, emphatic and exaggerated as he stares out the dash. Shouto finds it cute, and his eyes would probably be on Izuku to gauge his reaction if he weren't so enthralled by what sits just beyond his dash. Shouto has to admit, Tenya's done a wonderful job here; there are beautiful, snow-white lanterns draped from the streetlamps lining the peachy brick road up to a large gazebo. From the gazebo hang dozens more lanterns, and a pond stretches just behind it. Shouto hates to draw his eyes away from it, because it is really, truly gorgeous, but his eyes shift over to the passenger side of the car. And immediately he has no regrets, because Izuku is that much more beautiful, the way the lanterns catch in his eyes and the hazy white glow that stains his face.
It's even more difficult to peel his eyes away from Izuku when he turns and looks at him, that whimsical expression hitting Shouto full-force now and Izuku smiles, dazed. And it's blinding, as always.
Their gazes are interrupted by a knocking at the passenger side window, and Izuku's jump is almost worth the mini heart attack Shouto feels at the surprise of it. Tenya stands outside the window in a winter coat, hat, and mittens; he's frowning, but not because he's upset. Shouto can almost see him chewing his lip to keep from chattering.
They clamber out of the car, and wordlessly Tenya wraps Izuku in a hug – then, when Shouto rounds the car, he drags Shouto into it, too. "Happy to see us?" Izuku teases from where he's currently being smushed between two men at least six inches taller than him, and Tenya huffs a shiver of a laugh.
"Cold," Tenya replies, and Izuku giggles. Shouto can't hold back a laugh, either.
Tenya walks them to the gazebo. There are space heaters up here, hidden near the pillars of the gazebo. In the center of it is a small circular table, with a single candle lit in the center, and off to the side is a baby grand piano. It's nearly butting up to the protective railing of the far side of the gazebo, and as Shouto looks he notices that this end hangs decently over the water. He hopes, for everyone's sake, that this gazebo is structurally sound. Then, knowing Tenya, the man has already researched it thoroughly.
"Shouto, do you mind if—" Tenya begins, then shuts his mouth, opens and closes it again. Shouto realizes, then, that a bodyguard would likely ruin the mood of the event.
"Would you like me to go somewhere else?" Shouto asks, and he doesn't mean to sound annoyed, because he isn't annoyed, but his voice just always carries that gentle tone of irritation. Always, except with Izuku.
"No, no," Tenya shakes his head, accentuates his thoughts with a thin karate chop to the air. "Can you—I mean, do you mind sitting on the bench with Izu—with Loverman?"
Shouto hums, looks over at Izuku, who's already settled on the bench and is silently feeling out the keys on this piano. He's wearing gloves, and Shouto can tell he's a bit nervous to be playing with gloves on, but hearing his stage name Izuku's eyes shoot up. He looks between Tenya and Shouto and gives a sort of noncommittal shrug. "Doesn't bother me," he says, eyes resettling on Shouto.
Shouto doesn't really mean to pry. "Why on the bench?" he asks, notices the way Izuku's lips downturn in a frown and hurries to further explain. "The bench is just a tight fit, and usually I guard from the side of the piano."
"I just would like there to be a clear view of the pond," Tenya replies, and his voice has lost all confidence. "Sorry, it's—"
"I'll do it," Shouto amends with a quick bow. "I doubt anything could keep me from stopping someone coming at Izuku."
And he claims the spot next to Izuku on the bench, letting his left leg hang just slightly off the side of the bench so Izuku has a fuller range of the piano at his access. There's a few murmurs between them, a quick "Are you warmed up?" from Shouto and a few "You're sure you have enough room?" statements, which Izuku affirms each of. And then Tenya's hushing their chatter, and Izuku doesn't even need a cue; he starts to play.
Shouto glances up from the other side of Izuku. He sees Tsuyu's car – he thinks, anyway – peeling out of the parking lot, and Tenya jogs down the steps of the gazebo and down that brick path until he's close enough to offer an arm to Ochaco. And Ochaco takes it, delicate, and Tenya removes a scarf from his lover's eyes – a blindfold, Shouto presumes – and they're walking slowly, slowly back up the path, so Ochaco can absorb everything around her. She wears a pastel pink coat, incredibly similar in color to Izuku's own blazer (which he wears underneath a heavier coat now, solely because Shouto made him grab it before they left).
They sit at the table, and that bubble expands around the two of them, again. With the piano so close to Shouto he doesn't even attempt to strain to hear their murmured conversation; he understands his place and willingly accepts it on his own out here. Even with Izuku so close to him, pressed up against him, he feels alone, secluded outside this bubble Izuku himself has conjured simply with those talented fingers of his. And it's fine. It's more than fine, really; he can feel every chord so closely that it's shaking him, dragging goosebumps up his arms that he can't argue are from the cold because they're tracing up his left side, too.
It's after Izuku finishes playing a soft, two-octaves-higher rendition of Rhapsoda that Shouto's welcomed, with open arms, into his bubble.
Tenya and Ochaco lean into each other, the candle flame between them licking their faces with a pale yellow glow. And Izuku leans closer to Shouto, so much closer that Shouto can almost feel the bubble pressing uncomfortably against him with how close he is, when Izuku reaches for his hands – a gentle pop, almost audible – and places them gingerly on the keys in front of them.
"How much do you know about music theory, Shouto?" Izuku asks softly, and Shouto can hear him perfectly in this bubble of theirs. He splays his fingers on the keys but doesn't press, just listens to Izuku's fingering of broken chords a few octaves above him.
"Not enough," Shouto murmurs back, and he finds himself wishing he could play with Izuku – play for Izuku, the way this man plays for him, so powerful, so emotional.
"Do you know your C, A, F, and G chords?" Izuku hums, looks up at Shouto while he continues to strum those same broken chords but faster, with more notes of embellishment thrown in. Shouto will forever be in awe of this man.
"I—yes," Shouto replies, his voice hushed so it doesn't rupture their bubble. He locates the C chord closest to where Izuku placed his hands and hesitantly, barely, presses the keys.
"If I count you in, can you just play that pattern?" Izuku asks, and Shouto's voice flees him at the hesitant smile quirking Izuku's lips; the smile that screams I want this to work, please let this work, the one that feels like a cloudy day where the sun just begs to peek through the clouds. So he nods, he nods like a bobblehead, and Izuku gives a tentative giggle and murmurs his count. "Three-four time," he says in a whisper. "And, one, two, three, one, ready, go—"
Shouto's nervous at first. He nearly misses his cue, and his hands are a little bit too heavy on the keys, but it's okay, because Izuku's talent shrouds his mistakes. His fingers twiddle on the keys, their airiness reminding Shouto of the snowflakes around them. Each finger falls on a key with purpose, and god it's so exquisite, being able to hear four hands on this beautiful piano. Izuku knows how to draw the talent out of anyone, Shouto thinks, because if he can sound this good, anyone can. It isn't a song Shouto recognizes, but he finds himself swaying along to it anyway, like it's the most familiar piece in the world. It's delicate, unrightfully so; it nearly makes Shouto swoon, and he leans a little with the music, bumps Izuku's shoulder. If Izuku hiccups, he can't even tell it's a mistake.
Izuku giggles and nudges Shouto back, and there is a fumble, on his part. He's nervous – he almost apologizes for the stray noise – but Izuku's talent swallows it, makes it sound like part of the song. It's now that Shouto contemplates how much of Izuku's writing style is just that; how much of his embellishments are him learning to cover his mistakes. To make them beautiful, to make them the best part of his music.
Shouto is so encapsulated that he nearly doesn't register the moment Tenya kneels down, until he hears the soft gasp from Ochaco that carries just enough tension to burst the bubbles encompassing them. Shouto almost regrets it, almost, until he sees the way Ochaco's face erupts into a smile. Nowhere near as brightly as Izuku's smile shines next to him, but he finds her beautiful nonetheless. And for once, he feels nothing but pure happiness; there are no worries of what's to come in his job, where his and Izuku's relationship will go after this. In this moment, he is happy. He is happy for his friends, who have been so long coming on this night, he is happy for Izuku, who gets to play such a huge part in their lives.
And, perhaps for the first time, he feels only pure happiness for himself.