If Shouto plans on coming out of the shower undressed every time, Izuku's internal debate over whether or not they should be roommates will be a very short argument indeed. He watches with a pounding heart as Shouto strolls out of the bathroom with a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water still trailing from the nape of his neck down his spine.

Izuku very nearly gets caught staring when Shouto turns back around, his stomach muscles flexing as he pulls on a thin t-shirt. He hurriedly busies himself with his phone, but then hears a soft thwack of the towel hitting the floor, and figures it's time to find the exit before he combusts, figuratively or literally.

"Uh," Izuku jumps up from the bed. "I'm gonna go make a phonecall out on the balcony so you can…get ready."

Shouto raises an eyebrow, tying his pajama pants. Izuku feels his mouth go dry as he peeks at Shouto's hands. Were they always that huge? "Alright. Be careful."

"I will!" Izuku waves and nearly trips over the desk chair in his hurry to get outside and away from a freshly-showered, lilac-scented Shouto.

How the hell is Izuku supposed to sleep next to him tonight? Does Shouto realize how low that fucking towel was hanging on his hips? Holy fuck...

Katsuki picks up on the second ring. "Why the hell are you calling me, Deku?"

His voice adds a lot of emotions to the mix of angst already rolling around in Izuku's stomach.

"Kacchan…" Izuku thinks of how his friends spoke of romance at dinner, and of the goddamn bed waiting for him with Shouto in it, and of the fact that his boyfriend will be sleeping in one just like it tonight with somebody besides Izuku, and Katsuki didn't even look at him, not even for a second— "I think we should break up."

It's dead silent for almost ten seconds. "You wanna try that again, Deku?" Katsuki's voice crackles, way too calm for comfort.

Izuku nearly takes it back purely out of confusion and a seldom-used but still existing sense of self preservation, but he ends up holding firm in the end. Mostly. "W-What do you mean, Kacchan?"

"I mean that you don't get to tell me that you wanna break up after you threw yourself all over that asshole today!" Katsuki all but screams into the phone. "You're a fucking slut, Deku, are you kidding me?"

Izuku holds the phone away from his ear, trying to ignore the burning feeling that starts to sting at the corner of his eyes. Right on cue, he thinks.

"I didn't mean to do it, Kacchan, you know it was a complete accident—"

"I don't know shit! And you obviously don't either, Deku, so no, you're not breaking up with me. Fuckass," he hisses.

"Yes, I am." Izuku takes a deep breath. "I can't keep doing this, Kacchan. All we do is fight, and you won't let me tell our friends about us, we haven't even gone on a single date—"

"You wanna go on a date? Fine, dumbass, we'll go on a fucking date. Now will you shut up?" Katsuki demands.

Izuku's voice comes out very small. "Do you mean it?"

"Yes, I fucking mean it, moron. Tomorrow," Katsuki huffs.

"Where are we going?" Izuku tries not to jump up and down.

"Sushi. That dumb place everyone's yapping about," he grunts. "I'll make a reservation. 2 o'clock."

"Oh my gosh, okay—thank you so much, Kacchan. I can't wait!" Izuku enthuses.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm hanging up."

Izuku smiles into his palm. "Oh okay, goodnight—"

The phone call disconnects. Izuku shuffles back into the room, making sure to shut the sliding door behind him.

"Everything alright?" Shouto asks, his voice a deep raspberry red.

He must've turned out the light while Izuku was still outside. All Izuku can make out in the dark is a person-shaped silhouette already under the bedcovers.

"Yeah," Izuku says quietly. "All good."

Izuku feels his way to the nightstand on his side, and crouches down to fumble with his phone charger. Once his phone is charging, he climbs up onto the bed and scoots under the covers.

It's surprisingly chilly for this time of year in Kyoto. Izuku thinks absently that tomorrow he'll wear jeans.

Shouto's voice breaks the silence. "Are you cold?"

"...Only a little," Izuku admits.

Shouto murmurs, "Come here."

Izuku rolls over, propping himself up on his elbow as he squints and tries to make out his roommate through the darkness.

"Why?" he asks.

"I'll use my left side, if you want. It should make it warmer. You'll just have to get closer. I can only heat up a little bit without making it too hot for you," Shouto explains, words coming out kind of stilted.

"Oh, yes, that would be amazing!" Izuku sighs, shuffling closer until his toes brush against Shouto's shin. "Oops, sorry."

"It's fine."

Sure enough, a pleasant warmth seeps from Shouto's skin into the sheets.

"Wow, this is gonna make me so spoiled," Izuku laughs to himself, cuddling as close as he dares to the warm spot beside Shouto's arm.

"You can have it anytime," Shouto says, and then quickly adds, "If you get cold."

Izuku sighs, the warmth speeding him along to sleep. "Thanks, Shouto."

It's silent, like Shouto's not even breathing, and then Izuku registers what he said and jerks up into a sitting position.

"Oh my God," he gasps. "Oh my God, I am so sorry, I totally didn't mean to use your given name—"

"It's fine." Shouto also sits up, turning to face him.

His fingertips suddenly brush against Izuku's elbow (cold—must be his right side) and then Izuku's arm is gently tugged back down to the bed. Somehow, Izuku's hand ends up pressed to the mattress underneath Shouto's palm, and the taller boy hesitates for a few moments before finally shifting his hand away.

"I'm sorry," Izuku whispers. His palm is freezing, almost like Shouto's quirk had spiked while they were touching. The thought of that shouldn't be enough to make Izuku hard.

Izuku can't see his face, but Shouto's voice is red summer jello when he replies, "You can call me Shouto…Izuku."

Izuku gasps, his heart choosing that instant to kick into gear and pound away because no one but his mother has ever called him by his given name (and that doesn't count). This is a big moment for him. Izuku has never been close enough with anyone to experience something of this magnitude. No one's ever liked him enough, before.

"Are you sure?" Izuku wishes his voice wouldn't waver like that.

"Yes," Shouto replies as he lays back down, still with that red summer jello tone. "I'm sure."

"Okay." Izuku lays back down too, trying to slow his tap-dancing heartbeat enough to at least pretend to sleep. "Night, then."

"Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku hides his smile with his pillow. "Goodnight, Shouto."

That comforting warmth seeps through the blankets again, and before Izuku knows it, his eyes are drifting shut. No panic episode in sight.