"We should do something about this." Tenya winces. "Uraraka?"
"What do you want me to do?" she protests, biting her lip. "This is the fourth store we've been to. I'm just hoping he loses steam soon and stops long enough to say something."
"An explanation would be nice," Tsuyu agrees, stepping out of the way as Izuku blows past her with another reject in hand. He's already pawing through the nail polish display, working with a single-minded focus to find...something.
"Maybe we should call someone. Perhaps, Aizawa-sensei—?" Tenya offers.
"No! No teachers," Ochako insists. "This is personal. We handle it ourselves, got it? Agreed?"
"I guess so." Tsuyu nods.
"If you're certain that we can handle it ourselves," Tenya huffs.
"Don't worry, I got this. We just need some outside intervention." Ochako pulls out her phone. "Hey, Yaomomo? Yes, hi, I'm so sorry to bother you during freetime, but we've got a little bit of a situation here…" She plugs her ears.
Izuku speeds back over to Shouto, holds a bottle up to his hair, and then says, "No." and vaults over the display into the next aisle.
"Okay, Yaomomo's coming." Ochako slips her phone back into her pocket. "Hey, Todoroki? Are you...you good?" she asks.
He doesn't even look at her. "Yes. I'm fine."
Izuku careens back over, and says, "Fuck, no, it's not right. New store."
"Deku!" Ochako steps behind him, blocking his retreat. "Hey, hold on a sec. You're looking for red nail polish, right?"
Izuku cocks his head. "Right."
"Well, Yaomomo's on her way to come make you some. Whatever shade you want," Ochako promises. "So if you could just chill for a second, she'll be here, and she can make whatever it is you're looking for. Okay?"
"...Okay." Izuku pouts, looking down at the rejected bottle still in his hand. "You sure she can make it?"
"She can make anything," Tsuyu interjects, pulling the bottle away from him. "I'll put this back."
"Thanks," Ochako sighs. "Hey, Deku, are you okay? Do you want to talk about anything?"
Izuku looks at her strangely. "Talk about what?"
"Well, we left the restaurant in kind of a hurry, and you didn't even finish your food—" Ochako starts.
"He'll eat later," Shouto finally speaks up. "At dinner. I'll make sure of it."
Ochako's eyebrows raise, and she opens her mouth like she intends to pursue that topic of conversation, but they're interrupted before she can.
"Yo, guys!" Kyoka comes through the door first. "Where's the fire?"
"Hello!" Momo comes right after her, looking slightly out of breath. "What's the emergency? Is everything alright?"
"Um, thanks for coming so fast, Yaomomo, but…Deku needs help." Ochako steps out of the way, revealing his frozen stance to the two girls.
"Midoriya?" Momo gently asks, stepping towards him. "Are you okay?"
Izuku looks up at her with an inscrutable expression. "Can I ask you a favor, Yaoyorozu?"
"Of course," she agrees, touching his arm. "You don't look like yourself, Midoriya—"
"Red nail polish," he interrupts. "I want red nail polish. Can you do it?"
"Well…sure," Momo agrees, looking confused and unsurprisingly, concerned. "Were you not able to find any, yourself?"
"I found plenty, but none of it is right." Izuku clicks his tongue.
Kyoka looks at the rest of them like she's waiting for the punchline.
"Alright. Do you have a reference I can look at? Something that is the right shade?" Momo asks.
Izuku thrusts his finger at Shouto.
"That," he declares. "I want that."
Momo looks back and forth between Izuku and Shouto. When no explanation is forthcoming, she looks back and forth, again.
"Okay," she finally breaks the silence. "I...I can do that."
"Thank you." Izuku sighs, running his hand through his hair. "It's been a goddamn ordeal trying to find the right fucking shade."
Tenya's mouth drops open, and Kyoka fails to smother her laughter, but Momo's face softens and she touches Izuku's arm again.
"I understand. Hold on just a few seconds, and I'll have it done," she promises.
The moment the plain bottle of red polish is in his hand, Izuku's thanking Momo again and shooting out the door. Shouto follows, only a step behind him, leaving the rest of them in the shop.
"Well," Tenya pushes up his glasses and claps his hands together. "Shall we continue walking around? Yaoyorozu, Jirou? Would you care to join us?"
"Shouldn't someone do something about—" Kyoka waves her hand in the general direction of the exit, "That?"
"Believe me, we're trying," Ochako sighs. "Let Todoroki handle it. If anyone can get through to Deku, it's him."
"Fair enough." Kyoka shrugs.
"Izuku," Shouto huffs out, grabbing a hold of his wrist. "Izuku, stop."
Izuku spins around, nearly catching Shouto in the chest with his abrupt pause. "What? I need to get back to the hotel, are you coming?" he demands.
"Yes, I am, but I want to hear you say that this isn't some kind of self-destructive reaction that I'm just not used to seeing from you." Shouto stands his ground in the middle of the street, gripping Izuku's wrist a bit tighter.
Izuku's mouth falls open. "Excuse me, what? When have I ever done anything self-destructive?"
Shouto serves him a dry look, stepping closer. "I remember how you used to not ice your bruises after sparring, Izuku. I know what that was," he quietly says.
And just like that, Izuku's face bursts into flames. "Seriously, Shouto? That wasn't...no, oh my fuck."
"Wasn't it?" Shouto persists. "Wasn't it a way for you to punish yourself?"
"Punish my—holy shit, Shouto, no!" Izuku splutters. "I wasn't—I didn't—I didn't skip the ice because of that!"
Shouto looks slightly confused, now. "Then, why?"
"Because I liked it. I like seeing bruises, okay? It's like...it's a kink." Izuku winces, tugging his arm away. "Jesus fuck, is that good enough for you, Shouto? Christ. This is not a self-destructive episode! I'm just trying to get back to the hotel so I can redo my nails. Now, are you coming, or not?"
Shouto breaks out of whatever trance he'd been sent into, and nods fervently. "Yes. I'm coming."
"Then, let's go," Izuku huffs, hurrying back down the path to avoid having to look in Shouto's direction again.
Once they're in the hotel, it takes exactly two minutes to climb the stairs up to their room (Izuku wasn't willing to wait for the elevator), and then Izuku's toeing out of his shoes and climbing up onto the bed.
"Wait," Shouto approaches with his hands up. "Izuku—"
"God damn, Shouto, will you let me paint my fucking nails?" Izuku explodes.
A flicker of irritation shows on Shouto's face, and he crosses his arms. "You know what? No, Izuku. I won't."
Izuku laughs, though it comes out sounding more cruel than kind. "Great. Thanks for that, Shouto. Glad to know you're my fucking keeper."
"Izuku!"
And the sound of Shouto shouting at him is so unexpected, Izuku drops the bottle of nail polish. It rolls off the bedspread, thunking onto the floor. Shouto and Izuku look at the bottle, then each other, then dive in tandem to grab it.
"Hah!" Izuku crows, scooting back up onto the bed with the bottle in hand. "Got it!"
Shouto leaps on top of him, knocking Izuku onto his back. They both grapple for the bottle with a shout, but Izuku wasn't expecting to have to pull out his hand-to-hand skills so early in the afternoon and Shouto quickly subdues him. Izuku realizes, with both of his wrists pinned above his head and a humiliating flush springing to life on his face, that Shouto's a lot bigger than him. Izuku's not sure he'd be able to break out of his grip without using his quirk.
"Now," Shouto says breathlessly, "Are you ready to talk?"
"Talk about what?" Izuku weakly asks. "I don't have anything to talk about!"
"Obviously, you do," Shouto retorts.
The way that Shouto has him pinned is both unfamiliar and unfortunate. Unfamiliar, because Izuku's never actually found himself under Shouto with one of the taller boy's knees planted between his thighs, before this moment. Unfortunate, because when Shouto shifts up and his thigh brushes against Izuku's cock, he lets out a really terrible whimper.
Shouto's eyes widen, and Izuku bursts into tears.
"I'm sorry!" he blubbers. "I'm s-sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me—"
"Izuku," Shouto whispers, eyes pained, and then Izuku finds himself being pulled into his friend's lap so that he can go right on sobbing into Shouto's expensive shirt.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
"Please, stop," Shouto quietly says, palm splaying over Izuku's back, pressing him even closer. "You don't have to apologize to me."
"I can't believe I'm this fucking embarrassing," Izuku wails. "No wonder Kacc—"
"Do not finish that sentence."
Izuku stops crying mid-sob. His heart jumps, his cock twitches, and he's pretty sure his pulse starts going in doubletime. All that, from a handful of words. Izuku didn't even know that Todoroki Shouto had the capability of sounding that assertive. It's almost as if Izuku's lizard brain decided to follow Shouto's orders before his rational brain caught up, the way Shouto's command halted his meltdown at a moment's notice.
"Good." Shouto exhales, and Izuku tries not to shiver. "Now, can we please talk?"
"...About what?" Izuku hiccups, squeezing his eyes shut.
Shouto's voice continues to come out steady, even as Izuku listens to his heart pick up in his chest.
"I would like to discuss what you're intending to do with the nail polish."
Talk about a curveball. "Wait, you're not going to ask about—literally anything else? What about all the other embarrassing things I've done in the last ten minutes?"
Shouto's left side seems to heat a little bit through his shirt. "I don't think that's really my business."
"Um, if anyone has a right to ask, it'd be you," Izuku counters, the absurdity of the situation taking the edge off his hysteria. "Jeez, Shouto. I really am a fucking mess. How do you deal with me?"
"I wouldn't call it dealing." Shouto's voice lowers. "Are you okay, now?"
"Huh?" Izuku asks, and then, "Oh, shit, yeah, I'm fine! You can…yeah. Sorry."
Izuku scrambles off his lap, scooting until his back hits the wall. He looks at his knees to avoid looking at Shouto. "Um, thanks for….holding me."
Shouto keeps his eyes on the bottle of nail polish in his hands, though his knuckles turn white. "Don't thank me."
"...Why not?" Izuku asks.
"Nothing," Shouto quickly says. "Izuku, I'm obviously missing something here, so will you tell me why you want to paint your nails this shade of red so badly?"
Izuku's entire body flinches in protest of that course of action, dreading the humiliation of having to explain his moment of insanity out loud, but this is Shouto, saint Shouto and savior of all things Izuku-related. Izuku knows his friend has earned that title after all he's been put through in the last hour. Sorry, Iida.
"Um…okay, promise you won't laugh?" Izuku winces.
Shouto looks up, then, and his gaze is heart-attack inducing. "I swear."
"Okay…cool, so, basically," Izuku flounders. "Have you noticed that girls in relationships wear nail polish, at UA?"
Whatever Shouto was expecting, it wasn't that. "What?"
"This." Izuku holds up his hand, showing off the chipping polish. "This is the exact same orange as Kacchan's Hero suit. Did you know that?"
Shouto's eyes flash with understanding. "I do, now. Then, by painting your nails with my color—"
"I want to make it look like you and I are dating, yes," Izuku finishes. "To make Kacchan jealous. I want…I want him to realize what it feels like, for your boyfriend to choose someone else over you."
Shouto shuts his eyes, and his face goes completely blank.
"Okay," he finally says, just as Izuku's about to embarrass himself further. "I'll help."
"You—" Izuku swallows. "Shouto, you don't have to. The nail polish would've been enough."
Shouto looks angry as he meets Izuku's eyes. "Would it, though? Would it hurt him enough?"
Izuku loses his breath. "...No," he admits.
"Then, tell me what to do to make it enough." Shouto leans forward. "Tell me what you want."
"Oh, holy shit," Izuku mutters to himself. "Um, okay. First, can I have my polish back? I really do want to paint my nails."
"I'll take care of that. You, talk," Shouto orders, uncapping the little bottle.
"What—Shouto, do you even know how to paint nails?" Izuku laughs.
His cheeks turn pink, but Shouto nods. "I used to paint Fuyumi's. I can do it."
"But—" Suddenly, this seems like a really intimate favor to ask. "S-Shouto—"
"I'll paint your nails," Shouto insists, scooting closer. "While you tell me your plan to make Bakugou jealous."
So Izuku does.