It was a beautiful morning, the air was clear and already smelled a little like salt, if you believed in it firmly. The two boys were fascinated by the green lands, the change in vegetation and the temperatures. As soon as the windows of the car were closed and only the sun shone brightly into the car, you quickly felt the sweat running down your back, but if you drove for a longer time through a shady area or one of the countless tunnels, you quickly began to shiver again.
The topics they talked about were lighter than yesterday, simple and carefree, and both seemed to lose themselves in the feeling of simplicity. To Izuku's penned heart, Shouto was a knight in dazzling armor- interested, attentive and gracious. His opinion was valued, even solicited, and not once was he - or a single thing he said - questioned.
He felt noticed, appreciated and understood. He felt on par with Shouto, and not because he had to fight for it, but because he was respected by his friend in every way. And for Shouto, Izuku was the epitome of freedom; no expectations, pure understanding, a strong personality with clear ideas that they could philosophies about all day without slipping into emotional territory.
He spoke, he was heard and understood. Not once was he put aside, misinterpreted or simply accepted. Izuku questioned him, not in a subtle way that made him feel like he had made a mistake that had already been smiled away, but straight out.
He contradicted him, completely rationally and politely. And he teased him, something that was unfamiliar and new but exciting and entertaining.
It was so good to take one's narrowed gaze away from familiar, perpetual problems for once and fixate on a new person. It was not that they did not know each other before, they had just been too busy with their own lives to see the obvious harmony that bound them together. They had not had the opportunity to meet for longer than 2 hours in private. Until now. And so, subconsciously, the temptation to never turn away from each other again, became greater and greater.
"Could you give me a hand? ...here on the sleeve- that's right, just pull." Shouto directed Izuku's uncertain movement as he helped him finally take off his jumper while driving. He was tired of leaving the highway for every little thing, and besides, he felt he was already driving better than when they started their journey.
"Is it actually hard for you to ask me for help?" asked Izuku abruptly as he folded the jumper on his legs and glanced at Shouto.
"Why should it? I'd rather ask for help than create a dangerous situation. Like I said, driving one-handed is one thing- driving blind is another."
"Kacchan has never asked me for help in all the time we've known each other."
When Shouto snorted briefly, Izuku stopped tugging thoughtfully at his lower lip.
"Bakugou's got more pride than bones in his body. What do you expect?"
"Not much, really" he shrugged "But spending so much time with you right now just shows me how calm and balanced I can be with you. Everything feels so ... easy."
"I feel the same"
"Are we comparing Momo with Kacchan right now?"
"Impossible." They both looked at each other with a brief smirk.
Izuku gazed dreamily out the window for a while, his mind on none other than Katsuki Bakugou himself. And the impact he was having on his life. And how different his friendship with him seemed to be from his friendship with Todoroki. With Katsuki, he had the constant feeling that he had to fight for his place next to him. And that in all regards and at all times. And nothing happened faster than Katsuki suddenly changing his behavior and looking down on him again. Talking him down. Doubting him.
Izuku knew he trusted him when the absolutely rare case occurred that Katsuki's back was against the wall. And he also knew he cared. In his own wicked way. But the painful truth was beginning to open up to him, namely that Kacchan would never accept him the way Todoroki did. His throat tightened and he suddenly fought bitter tears.
"I think most of the time he makes me sad without knowing he's doing it." He confessed and then stopped struggling and the tears began to overflow.
He missed Todoroki's pitying look as he began to distract himself, sniffling as he wrote the last few days in his diary.
Although the day was one of the most beautiful of spring, with all its colors, sounds and scents, Midoriya's mind was elsewhere most of the time. With a dreamy view of the sea from one of the countless resting places in the flat mountains, he even forgot his scoop of pistachio ice cream until it landed with a wet splat on his right shoe. Todoroki, too, was thinking about his father more often than he wanted to admit. The second day suddenly felt heavier than the first. The wounds had been opened and cleaned, the healing process was painful and slow for both of them, but something they had to manage on their own. Both were happy and grateful to be able to reflect in peace, but not to be alone in the process.
"Tomorrow we'll be at the sea, won't we?"
"Yes."
"It's so beautiful from a distance. And it looks so close already, yet it's still so far away..."
Todoroki stood right next to his friend, arm to arm, and together they looked out at the endless expanse on the horizon. A breeze blew up their fringes. Midoriya eyes were moist, slightly reddened, and reflexively narrowed in the rising wind. Pressing his lips together, he convulsively tried not to cry again. He had always wanted to see the ocean. And yet, tormented, he averted his eyes looked into his friend's face.
The second pair of eyes were not dry either. He knew that Todoroki was not a physical person and always paid attention to the personal comfort zone of those around him. But he also knew that after a certain point, a hug always gave off something protective and warming. So he slowly wound his arms around Todoroki's middle and pressed his face against the other's shoulder. Other than expected, Shouto's arms lifted almost instantly and Midoriya found himself in the grip of a vice.
"Thank you." Growled the taller one into wild green curls. "For being that friend I never thought I'd have." In response, Midoriya squeezed harder.
His heart gave him a little stab, as if it wanted to remind him of something unpleasant. And when he realized that, despite everything, he would rather be standing here with someone else, any answer tasted like old dust on his tongue.
And if that was what being in love did to you, then he didn't want to be in love any longer.
"Let's go for a drink tonight. At a bar. And tomorrow we'll sleep in late before we go to the sea." He mumbled against Shouto's dark shirt and wiped his tears on it with a rubbing motion.
"Okay." Came the grouchy reply.
[23:12]
"Midoriya," Todoroki whispered after the fourth gin and tonic and the third shot of vodka. His cheeks and eyes were red from the alcohol and smoke in the room, "I'm not gay."
"Oh, I know." The guy addressed chuckled briefly in amusement and twisted his mouth into a wicked grin.
"But," Todoroki spoke with the determination of a drunk, running a hand through his hair and then raising his index finger, "I want to ask a favour of my gay best friend."
Izuku rolled his eyes. How many times had he heard that phrase and how many times had the evening been propelled with jokes at his expense? Serious or not, being the only gay guy in a group of guys was nerve-wracking and exhausting in the long run.
"I'm not going to pretend to be your boyfriend. That would be tacky, and it wouldn't do me any good either." He sighed and looked openly into the face of his seatmate.
"Yes, I understand," Shouto replied a little too quickly, biting his lips. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze not as sharp as usual and his posture considerably more relaxed than on other occasions when they were out with friends. Large groups were no longer a reason for Todoroki to cancel plans for the evening, but the fewer people focused on him, the more relaxed his body seemed. And with Midoriya, he now acted as if they had known each other much longer than was actually the case. Whether that was due to the alcohol or the fact that they had opened up more on the car ride than with all their other friends together was a mystery.
Izuku watched him for a few seconds, then slid closer to Todoroki on the bench in front of the counter. It made a difference whether someone like Shinso asked for a favour, or an honest and inexperienced soul like Shouto. The latter raised his head jerkily as he felt the other's presence so close.
"I don't even know what I..." ...wanted. The green-haired man grumbled in understanding and stirred his drink. His face had clearly turned a soft red colour too, but Todoroki didn't know if it was the sun today or the countless drinks. His freckles were less prominent than usual, but Shouto knew they were there. Less obviously high on his cheekbones than in the area under his eyes. Eyes that were rimmed with thick, black lashes.
Had Midoriya always had such long lashes? His nose also looked ... much bigger from the side than from the front. But the mouth looked the same. Slightly bitten lower lip, full upper lip - when he slowly realised what he was doing, he was already caught in Midoriya's captivating gaze.
He swallowed. He blinked.
And the same again.
And then again, quite unobtrusively. Completely normal.
Then his gaze slowly fell on the small glass in front of him. Next to it were two coffee beans and a packet of matches. He had no clue when this had been placed in front of him, or how all these things were combined with the contents in the jar.
"What did you order for me?" he asked casually, watching as Izuku snatched the second ice cube from his drink and popped it into his mouth. Green eyes roamed over his face to his glass and back. Even over the music, the crunch of ice could be heard as Midoriya slowly chewed the ice cube.
"Sambuca," he replied, wetting his lower lip. "You set fire to the surface with the matches."
"You set fire to it?" he repeated tonelessly. The words felt harsh and he could already feel the alcohol in his veins slowly stripping him of his sanity.
The other nodded and slowly lifted the matches from the bar. "And then you drink it. While it still burns." Spellbound, Shouto watched as Izuku's inimitable fingers slid open the box and pulled out a single match. He held it between them at eye level.
"And once the glass is emptied," he swallowed and blinked, "you close your eyes."
Green eyes darted from the match between his fingers to the large discordant eyes right in front of him. Shouto was transfixed, drawing every word from his lips. And there was also the exact spot where Izuku's concentration lingered before it went up in smoke. At the other's mouth. The anticipation settled like a heavy weight on his lungs, making his ears and lips tingle. He took a quivering breath.
Their eyes met and burned with an intensity that made the bartender turn away in embarrassment. Neither broke eye contact. The air thickened.
Though it was obvious, Shouto murmured, "I have a girlfriend." And Izuku, brave as alcohol made him, whispered softly, "Not here."
And his voice, usually raspy and still far too youthful suddenly sounded low and inviting. Todoroki swallowed hard and made a barely perceptible nod. And although he was aware that he was getting closer to the favor he was about to ask as a victim of liquid courage, doubts began to gnaw at him. His hands grew clammy and he gripped the hard wood of the bar directly in front of him, reaching for support.
"I don't know any good story that starts with that phrase." He murmured.
The match was ignited and Shouto's grip tightened.
The surface sucked in the flame greedily. The ice in his mouth had almost completely melted when Todoroki finally wrapped his fingers around his glass and emptied it with a jerk. His eyes remained shut, though his face contorted from the burning of the alcohol. They both swallowed, then Izuku leaned in his friend's direction.
In his mind, the man next to him was blond, searing red eyes burning bittersweet while tearing him apart, almost lovingly. Shouto's heart bounced hard against his ribs as he sensed Izuku's mouth. They weren't touching yet, but the lips directly in front of his were cold, chilling the breath that left them.
"Mid-" Shouto opened his eyes involuntarily, unable to speak further. His body seemed to be electrified. He immediately felt dazed by the barely present distance from the other. They both swallowed, then Izuku leaned in his friend's direction. He was about to lose his grip. He felt a large hand on the back of his neck, then a nose bumped against his, and in a small desperate gesture of backing away, his chest heaved. The hand pushed his face forward the last inch.
This wasn't just about pressing their mouths together without moving, because if there was one thing Izuku didn't do- it was being motionless. Midoriya's lips seemed to dance, pulling gently and pressing more softly against his, changing angle until Shouto didn't know where he ended and Izuku began. In that split second he noticed the sensitive skin around his mouth was moist, and how his own tongue already tasted of the other's drink. This kiss felt different from anything he and Momo had ever had together.
Izuku didn't seem to care that Shouto didn't put his hand on his hip or his face affectionately. If anything, the lack of initiative made him claw his other hand into Todoroki's shirt atop his shoulder. His head was drawn back by the hair on the back of his neck and he gasped, both startled and a little turned on. The next second his cheeks and ears were tingling because Izuku had made use of his tongue. And while fireworks were exploding in his belly as he understood what it felt like to be truly desired, his eyes fell shut and his hands clung devotedly to Izuku's forearms.
And Izuku himself plunged deeper into his vivid imagination by the second, any lack of response to that kiss a sign of proud resistance rather than real lack of knowledge. Pure instinct, and perhaps the very fact that he was so desperate for touch, had wrestled conscience and clear common sense to the ground and held them in a tight clinging grip. In that moment when his eyes had closed, his world had fallen over backwards and was now spiraling into the abyss. The only fixed point was the other's warm mouth, his neck under his hand and the blaring music. He buried his second hand in soft strands of red and white hair, was about to swing one leg over the other's lap because he had not been met with any resistance so far, when an indefinable deep groan brought him out of his fantasy. He backed away as if something had given him a branding on the tip of his tongue.
Two seconds passed. Cool grey-blue found warm forest green.
Izuku yanked back his knee and hands with a gasp, his lip trembling as the adrenaline slowly left his body, the rest of him completely motionless. What the hell had gotten into him. Sitting next to him was definitely not Katsuki, but Shouto. He had been kissing his friend, his almost best, spoken-for friend. His heart drummed in wild protest. Against what, he didn't know. But after all these months in self-doubt, alone and lonely every night, his fingers itched to take the final step to leave Katsuki behind now, tonight. If only it weren't for Shouto sitting next to him, looking at him as if he'd had an epiphany.
"I'm rock hard." Izuku put his head back and sighed tensely. That comment had the effect of a powerful detonation on his weak framework of self-control. Alone, he would not be able to avert what was just coming at them in a final spurt.
"Shouto- I-" he began, searching for the right words, for something that would convince himself-
His companion nodded slightly. His eyes glazed over and his cheeks flaming red. A tongue-tied drunk, caught in a daydream full of realizations. And yet, at that moment, under the dancing lights of the room, he was beautiful. And he had obviously acquired a taste for it.
"We're screwed."
Not yet, was what he was trying to say, but "Yeah" was what he did say.
"Just one more time" floated softly, almost invitingly, across his cheek and his heavy head must have moved back in the other's direction on its own.
"No, we-" his uttered sentence broke off as Shouto lips formed the word please.
No sound had escaped him, but Izuku gave in to his silent request anyway. The hair he brushed aside to reach the burning skin beneath was not golden. The eyes that watched him with fascination were not red.
But all colors will agree in the dark.
