*Izuku*
Cooking for Katsuki proved simultaneously easier and harder than Izuku thought. For one, he was so nervous that he almost peeled his finger instead of the potato. Then he found himself so excited to have Katsuki taste his cooking that it made his stomach erupt in butterflies, which was by far the most distracting thing with his back facing Katsuki.
Katsuki was preoccupied, of course. And every time Izuku had an opportunity, he would glance back at his red, narrowed eyes, their attention fixed on the screen as he fiddled on the computer.
It only occurred to Izuku that Katsuki was actually very focused on images of him, superimposed on his screen, searing into his retinas. He blushed at the stove and tried not to say anything. And tried not to be curious about which photo Katsuki had decided he would attempt to edit.
They both worked in silence, punctuated by the tapping of the keyboard or clicking of the mouse, then the pan scraping across the stovetop or the sizzle of the pan. Whatever advice they would give to each other would happen later. Izuku chose to cook what he knew best. Chicken breast. He spiced and seasoned it like he had seen in a video last night and hoped Katsuki wouldn't complain.
Then he melted some cheese and made a sauce to pour over the potatoes. If he was going to make something so basic compared to why Katsuki was used to cooking, he was going to be sure to cover it in cheese. He was happy he didn't burn the roux before adding the cheese; he had read somewhere you didn't need any colour to it.
When he powered off the fan and wobbled his way to the little table with less elegance than Katsuki did those weeks ago, Katsuki shut the laptop and slid it onto his bed. Izuku ignored the bed and the too-small apartment and focused now on Katsuki's mouth. Then his eyes and the way it surveyed the food before him, his expression patient. His face cracked.
He was grinning. The incisors that made him look like a hunter were gleaming and Izuku gulped.
"You think smotherin' everythin' in cheese was gonna get ya off easy?" Katsuki laughed as he pointed aggressively at the cheese sauce that pooled on the plate.
"I mean… yea?" Izuku watched Katsuki's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, before looking at his very beige coloured food. "Sorry."
"I know I said you'd have no time limit, then plans changed." Katsuki fiddled with his fingers. Both Izuku and him were gazing at his hands. Suddenly very bashful, apologetic, maybe even regretful?
"It's fine. We got what we said we were going to do, done." Izuku started picking at his fingernails. That much was true, the plan was, he cooked, Katsuki edited. They get practice while having each other for guidance, though neither asked. "Sorry it looks so…. appetising."
"Tch. Looks good, nerd." Without another word, Katsuki split the food between them, and tucked in. Izuku watched him for a moment before he himself cut a bite and stuck it in his mouth.
It needed salt. But Katsuki said nothing and ate it without complaint, almost convincing Izuku's taste buds that it was edible. If Izuku didn't think too hard, it was.
Katsuki yawned widely and leaned back into his chair. A half smirk stretched across his face.
"Seems like you're scared of salt." Katsuki linked his fingers and stretched to the ceiling, his body taut from the motion, and very visible because of his tank top.
"I agree. That could have been better." Izuku said to the empty plates. He was sure Katsuki hated it. The food had gone bland in his mouth and he didn't even enjoy the cheese because he was so nervous. He was probably being kind to make up for their change in plans.
"The cheese made up for the lack of salt." Katsuki tapped his finger on the table to get Izuku's attention, because he was staring at his hands. Izuku looked at Katsuki's finger then followed his forearm to his face. He was doing that gentle when he least expected it thing.
"Oh." was all Izuku managed. They held each other's gaze for a beat too long, Katsuki cleared his throat impulsively and looked at the laptop.
"It's gettin' late." Katsuki glanced at his phone screen before locking it. It had lit up briefly, a message window was swiped away as it came through.
"You don't want to go over your work?" Izuku also looked at the laptop on the bed and as they both stared at it; Izuku was aware that wasn't the subject of either of their gazes. At least he knew he wasn't watching the laptop, and he felt a pang of guilt when he hoped Katsuki wasn't either.
The bed looked so inviting.
"Could ya maybe tell me how I did another time?" Katsuki's jaw tensed and finally he looked at Izuku. Izuku saw him looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn't bring himself to return his gaze.
Izuku was being dismissed. Hurt pooled like a dull ache in the pit of his stomach.
"Nerd."
Izuku looked up at him finally. He masked his pain with a broad smile.
"I got company comin' in a min. This apartment is too small for three bodies."
There it was, the reason for the change of plans. Izuku was curious if it was a date.
"Okay." His voice was a weird combination of light, happy, and hollow.
"You scheduled that Uber like I told ya?" It was one of the first things Katsuki had said after he entered the apartment. Izuku remembered his stomach hitting the floor before he smiled brightly at Katsuki to hide his disappointment. He remembered distinctly the way Katsuki's face almost looked relieved at his reaction, and that showed him his smile was the right thing to do. He didn't want to hurt Katsuki.
"Yes, Kacchan." Still too light, happy, and hollow.
"I'll wash up the dishes." Katsuki hadn't moved, probably because Izuku hadn't either; in fact he had returned to staring at his fingers. A beat of silence, pregnant with all their unspoken thoughts. "Are you okay?"
Izuku wasn't okay. He felt like he was winded. As though he just fell some feet and landed on his back, and air was wooshed from his lungs and they refused to work properly.
What did he expect to happen? He'd get to stay here and cuddle while he coached Katsuki on how to edit photos? That the scheduled Uber would get missed because Katsuki would say, ' oh hey, stay would you? '
He felt stupid.
"Izuku." Katsuki said his name in that too soft, too kind voice. Izuku looked up and smiled broadly. Worry glinted in Katsuki's eyes that had widened at the smile then narrowed as he studied him.
"Sorry, Kacchan. Super spacey. I'll get out of your hair." Izuku went through the motions of stuffing his laptop into his bag and kept his back to Katsuki as much as he could. If he looked at Katsuki, he might ask to stay; that would be the pinnacle of making a fool of himself.
Katsuki followed him to the door, Izuku could feel him there but refused to pay him any attention. He stepped through over the threshold without intending to look back.
Instead he looked at the floor and the far end of the corridor, pretending the pattern was interesting. "See you later, Kacchan."
"Izuku."
He stopped, a foot outside the door, staring fixedly at the fibres in the carpet at his feet; there wasn't actually a pattern, just diagonal stitch lines. He wanted to leave, he needed the distance. He had to hide the pain or jealousy, whatever this emotion was, because Katsuki and him weren't even friends. They were just using each other for their skills. And Izuku had Shouto.
"Look at me." Izuku didn't, the words pulled at him immediately, but he arrested his gaze to the fibres at his feet.
"Izuku."
He brought his stare up and met Katsuki's narrowed eyes. He was leaning with one shoulder against his door frame and his arms folded firmly across his chest.
"What's gotten into you?" He lifted his eyebrows, more in surprise than indignation.
"Nothing." Izuku said too quickly. The following silence stretched too long. "I should leave before your date comes." Izuku waved his hand down the corridor, and he hoped it didn't sound as jealous as he felt. He smiled again, please be enough .
"It's not-" Katsuki's eyes widened in surprise.
"But it is like that." Izuku smiled again; too much smiling. "You're allowed to have friends even if I'm not one of them."
"Izuku…" Dirty blond eyebrows pinched in the middle as he considered Izuku's words.
"I'll see you at the studio, Kacchan." Izuku turned and walked as firmly as he could to the staircase, felt his vision blur then paused at the elevator. Probably a better choice than walking down stairs while momentarily blinded by emotion.
Emotions he was having trouble understanding.
He knuckled the button, his ears perked when he heard Katsuki's door shut; there were no muffled footsteps or urgent Izukus . He swiped away at the tears before they fell, and stared ahead as the doors opened with a ding.
Izuku felt cold wash over him as he recognised the man who was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, his fingers idly swiping at his phone. The man looked up and seemed to recognise him too. He kicked off the wall in one smooth movement and walked past Izuku; he smelled of cigarettes and roasted coffee beans, and he was at least an inch taller than Katsuki. His swagger dripped off even the ends of his lazily tied bun and permanently three-day old beard.
"Hey, Izu." The man said in a gravelly, sleepy, stupid morning voice as he walked past him, the corner of his mouth lifted in a curious smile. Izuku watched the man walk the corridor and the elevator doors closed before the man had stopped at Katsuki's door.
He knew Izuku's name- two syllables anyway- and Izuku had no idea who he was beside seeing him with Katsuki - and leaving with Katsuki- that night. Then his mind rattled off question after question.
Have they been seeing each other since that Saturday they left together?
Is Kacchan in a new relationship?
Is this going to be long term?
Would this new person take Kacchan's time away from me? Was he the reason why Eijirou hadn't called me to hang out this past Saturday? Kacchan was already occupied.
Izuku waited two minutes for his Uber to find him and he let himself feel empty all the way to the studio. He got on his bike and slowly made his way home. Today felt like such a huge waste. He didn't nearly get what he wanted, though, he didn't know exactly what he wanted.
Was it normal to want friends all to yourself?
He found Shouto's shoes in the rack and knew he was home, even if their apartment was eerily silent.
"Shouto?" Izuku called as he slipped his shoes off. Take-out boxes were laid out, unopened on the dining table; Izuku felt his stomach churn. Something was wrong.
He walked to the bedroom and saw Shouto's feet before the rest of him, ankles folded on the top side of the bed covers. "Todo?" Izuku said softly, unsure now if Shouto was asleep.
He was holding a book in his fingertips and he looked over the brim of it at Izuku once Izuku had made it into the bedroom. He shut the book and sat up slowly. Like he practised it. Confusion clashed with his already overweight thoughts.
Something was really wrong.
"Todo?" Izuku asked, hesitating.
"Where do you go?" Shouto asked, dropping one foot to the floor and folding the other under him. Cold radiated through the room making Izuku shiver to his bones.
"I go to the gym?" Izuku knew it was weak. But he knew what Shouto was asking.
One day it would have happened. He would have to tell Shouto that he had befriended his bully, someone Shouto hated with a passion that Izuku couldn't understand. Izuku by nature was always forgiving. Shouto, he despised people who hurt those he loved. And there was no redemption.
The whole Touya mess was the one time he forgave anyone, and that was because of their mutual hate at the time for Enji Todoroki, their father. Enji bribed a relationship out of him by offering him his (rightful) board seat.
It was then as Shouto shifted on the bed that Izuku saw a familiar pile of clothes, neatly folded and long forgotten, at Shouto's side.
"Todo- that's-" The pitch of Izuku's voice was too high, sounded nothing like himself.
"I know whose it is." Shouto said so softly, it almost sounded like he was winded by hurt. But Izuku watched him carefully, the clench of his jaw, the tightness of his fists. He was cold fury.
"Nothing happened-" Izuku hastened to say. He knew what accusations were about to fly. It looked exactly like an affair.
"Mido, I don't care. I don't care because you're not a cheater." Shouto rose from the bed. Izuku felt relief wash over him which was abruptly interrupted by confusion. Shouto was still a ball of rage. He buried his fists in his pockets and balanced on one hip, his eyes narrowed and dangerous.
"I mean, I thought so." Izuku felt like the words physically punched through him. "I thought hey, if he's spending time with Katsuki Bakugou, it's not a big deal. There's no way Izuku would be interested in a jerk like that. Plus, he's not going to fall for a straight guy."
Izuku's eyes widened a little. Fall for? Shouto misinterpreted Izuku's surprise at his words. Shouto's eyes narrowed, his mind working and connecting dots faster than the conversation was going. No time for Izuku to interject, to defend.
"Unless, of course, just my luck, that asshole isn't just interested in women."
"Todo, seriously-" Izuku panicked, because he previously thought Katsuki was; he literally only found out about Katsuki's orientation a couple weeks ago. And Shouto was figuring this out quickly but drawing all the wrong conclusions about a made up relationship between Katsuki and Izuku.
"Then, while I was here wondering why you weren't home for dinner, or why you were out on a Saturday randomly instead of home or at the studio, I wondered what was up. Because, you know. I thought I'd surprise you a couple times with food. You sometimes don't eat when you're so into a project, you tune the world out. I thought you'd like a little break. But you weren't there. There was one time when your bike was, but you weren't. Not at the studio, not at the gym." His words were so carefully enunciated, his voice was so even, Izuku knew the shiver down his spine was not because of temperature of the room.
Shouto inhaled, steadying his breathing after his rant. The most words Shouto had ever said in one go.
"So where do you go, Midoriya?"
"You're wrong about me having feelings for anyone." Izuku said lamely. Shouto scoffed.
"But you're with him All the time. Aren't you?"
"He's teaching me how to model." Izuku told the truth, as he intended to eventually. Now wasn't how he wanted to, the air full of anger and resentment. Shouto raised his eyebrows and nodded a little, acknowledging his words but it felt mocking.
"And how'd you end up with his clothes?" Shouto nudged his chin in the direction of Katsuki's clothes.
"I- it's a funny sto-" Izuku stepped toward it, unsure if he wanted to hold onto it for comfort or to save it from Shouto. He stopped, his heart hammering in his chest because Shouto didn't let him continue his words.
"Did you bring him back here?" Shouto was the most intimidating Izuku had ever seen him. Izuku went to the gym, but Shouto ran. Izuku never felt his height of 5'8", he was tough enough that it never bothered him. And Shouto's 5'11" frame, his litheness was the biggest presence in the room right now.
Shouto's accusation stung as though he were smacked across the face.
"I didn't- I would never-" Izuku frantically waved his hands, the idea had never occurred to him.
Shouto heaved a sigh of relief. His body crumpled as though the last of his strength that was fuelled by his anger had begun to run out. He sank into the soft mattress and held his head in his hand. Izuku could see he felt drained, sad. Hurt. There was silence, Izuku could feel his heart thumping in his ears.
"Where did you go, that night we fought and you drank that wine?"
Izuku felt like the ground was ripped from under him and his heart dropped into a freefall. He didn't want to tell Shouto like this.
"That was so long ago!"
"You left the wine on your desk." Shouto looked up, his body slumped, exhausted. "It took me a bit to work it out, but, why would you leave the bottle of wine there. You went to the studio, then left. I saw the arming times for the alarm. You didn't take the wine with you wherever you went. You didn't throw it out, so you didn't sleep at the studio. You just forgot it there."
You just forgot me here, the unsaid words pierced at Izuku's sternum through Shouto's pained gaze.
Izuku couldn't lie. Plus the stupid alarm system with it's stupid time recordings. He had never told Shouto about Katsuki because he didn't want to hear all the different reasons it was problematic from him. It was innocent. It was a friendship Izuku needed to balance himself and his time out. It helped balance work and play and made him feel more like a mid twenty-something year old..
"He picked me up." Izuku said the words knowing it would hurt him. Shouto looked around at him, a wave of sickness washed over his face. He looked at Izuku repulsed. Izuku's next words were cut short by the sharpness of Shouto's venom.
"You slept with him."
"No!" Izuku couldn't understand why he thought this, like their utter trust in each other had been completely shattered.
Izuku realised it actually had. Shouto broke his trust, and they never addressed it. And he broke Shouto's trust, and Shouto didn't know until now. The process was all wrong.
"You've been so different lately." Shouto tilted his head.
"So have you!" Izuku flung his hand out between them, his gesture much angrier than he intended.
Izuku didn't know where this was going, but it had just turned into this fight because he let himself slip. He was in the wrong here. And now, he was making this into how different they had both become. Deflecting. Shouto looked as though Izuku had struck him; though they were both rooted in spot. Izuku's entire body was tensed to stop him slumping to the floor.
"I've been with my family." Shouto said quietly as he remained utterly still.
"I've been with my friend." Izuku met his eyes steadily, not looking away.
Shouto scoffed. He laughed a humourless laugh and it chilled Izuku to his core.
"I don't know why I didn't see this happening. You've literally been gone, never at the gym. You've been cutting your hair? Sometimes I smell the alcohol on you when I come home to you sleeping. You go drinking with him?"
Shouto was in utter disbelief as Izuku saw his mind run rampant. All the accusations, all the scenarios he was inventing flitted across his face.
"You didn't cheat Izuku, yea, okay. I'll believe you. But you've lied to me for months ."
"I didn't-" Izuku felt his feet stumble and he stiffened his muscles, afraid now he was certainly going to drop to his knees. He wasn't going to dare go to the bed for reprieve; to loosen his wound muscles.
"You have been. Lying, I mean." Shouto paused, then he looked Izuku in the eye. Whatever warmth Izuku was familiar with was completely absent. "Does he make you happy?"
"Todo- he's not-"
"Right, sorry. Friends." Shouto shook his head. He looked back at Katsuki's clothes. "Why'd you keep those?"
"I forgot I had them." Izuku said this easily, because it was the truth. He had tucked it so far into the cupboard, he forgot that he had them and by default, forgot to give them back.
"Why'd you have them?"
Izuku sighed. A play by play to convince Shouto nothing had happened. "I showered at his and he gave them to me."
Shouto stilled, Izuku could see he wasn't breathing, not like his own heaving breaths. "You showered at his place?"
"I was drunk, I smelled like swine. I showered and slept. He slept on the floor. I barely remember any of it." Izuku flopped his hand around, gesturing at nothing in particular.
Shouto's mouth curled in one corner, completely humourless. "That's comforting."
Izuku felt nauseous. "I don't understand. What was I supposed to do?"
"Stay and talk it out with me!" Shouto said quickly, as though this had been all he had been thinking about for weeks.
"You went behind my back and did the one thing you said you wouldn't." Izuku said because he definitely had been fermenting his distaste for their fight for the past few weeks.
Shouto watched him silently. His mouth clamped shut as the muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched.
"My family needed me to do this."
"I thought I was your family." Izuku felt tears well in his eyes and they blurred his vision.
"Mido-"
"Don't-"
Shouto moved toward him; he knew he hurt Izuku, it was written all over Izuku's face. He reached for his shoulder and Izuku slapped his hand away.
" Don't touch me."
The sharp sting on the back of his palm was like an ant bite compared to the fist that crushed his airway and heart in his chest. Shouto heaved a sigh that settled heavier in Izuku's chest. Like he was gasping for air but his lungs refused to suck any oxygen in. Izuku saw Shouto glance at the pile of neatly folded clothes that probably no longer smelled of Katsuki.
How did he know it was Katsuki's?
Guilt swallowed him and a sob heaved his shoulders. He needed them to work this out. He couldn't lose Shouto over something so stupid. Shouto was never the jealous type, he was always secure in their relationship. Nothing even happened. He attempted to try again.
"Todo. I was never with him like that."
"And expanding the family business was important to the board." Shouto said it evenly, like it was the most obvious thing.
They looked at each other steadily, Shouto's eyes just barely a gleam as though his tears were frozen permanently from falling onto his cheeks while Izuku's own streamed onto his jersey, hugging his cheeks and flowing onto his chin creating an even sheen of wetness.
"What's happening to us?" Izuku asked in a hushed voice, afraid if he said it more loudly his voice would crack and words would no longer come out.
"We're-" Shouto struggled for the words, then shrugged, sadness weighing him down. "-we're different."
"What can I do?" Izuku grasped at whatever threads he could. But they were slipping.
"Him, or me."
Izuku hiccuped.
"You're making me choose between you and a-" Izuku hesitated for a moment because he remembered Katsuki's hasty "no" to his 'Are we friends? ', "-friend."
Shouto gave a bark of laughter peppered with disbelief.
"Look, you don't even believe he's just a friend."
"It's not that-" Izuku realised everything he was saying and how he was saying it was being all misinterpreted and he was doing nothing right. He had no issues calling him friend before. Why was he hesitating using the word now ?
"You really like this asshole-" Shouto shook his head
"Kacchan isn't an assho-" Izuku interjected.
"Kacchan, Kacchan !" Shouto said with more fury than mockery. It stung nonetheless.
"Katsuki is my friend !" Izuku almost yelled.
" Him or me. " Shouto said through gritted teeth and his jaw muscles flexed painfully.
Izuku was heaving breaths now, his head swimming because even with the rise and fall of his chest, he wasn't getting enough oxygen.
And he hesitated. Long enough that Shouto's eyes widened before Izuku could shape his mouth into the word you .
Because he didn't want to choose. He wanted them both. They were a team. They had a studio together. And Katsuki was his friend. He was learning so much about himself.
Shouto's eyes opened wider. "I don't believe this."
"Todo-" Izuku was still doing things wrong.
"You hesitated? " Shouto laughed again, this was the most he laughed and yet nothing was funny. Nothing felt good.
"No-"
" Fuck you, Midoriya." Shouto spat.
"Woah, wait-" Izuku stumbled back at the force of his words.
Shouto's face warped into regret and he took a half step toward Izuku. "Shit - sorry that was a lot."
Izuku stared at him, his mouth where the words had come from. Looking for the lie, evidence that he hadn't heard what he just did. He had never heard Shouto curse at him with such venom before. They had disagreements before, sure. But that felt distinctly like hate.
"Don't stop now." Izuku whispered. His voice was tiny, he didn't recognise it. Shouto looked at him, painful apologies on every inch of his face. He stepped forward, attempting to reach out to Izuku, who promptly stepped back. The back of his hand throbbed at the memory of slapping Shouto's hand away.
Touching Shouto, being touched by Shouto, any of it, it felt like torture.
Izuku inhaled, his chest painfully expanding. Every part of his body was aching. "I thought I was fine with you opening the other branch. I'm not. I thought I could support you. I cannot."
"Mido- wait-" Shouto tried to stop him, Izuku continued; his own voice now steadier than he thought he was capable of.
"You've put your family above me, for this one thing I thought we came to an agreement on, then instead of telling me what was happening, that you were being cornered into a decision, you just went behind my back. Then fucked with our rating. Which I then fixed."
"You did a wonderful jo-" Shouto's eyes were now pleading for him to stop talking, to give him his forgiveness.
Izuku shook his head and held up his palm to silence him. "And the one thing that brings me some kind of happiness in the shitstorm that has become our lives, you want me to get rid of?"
"Why did it have to be him?" Shouto said in a voice that was so small, it was almost a whimper.
"Why do you hate him?" Izuku asked, genuinely curious.
"He-" Shouto pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw. "Other than him telling you to jump off the roof?"
"Why does that matter?" Izuku frowned. "It was when we were kids . It was before I even knew you."
"Did he ever apologise?" Shouto asked as he gestured with his hands as though explaining something obvious.
It was Izuku's turn to scoff. "Is that all you hate about him? Because he was the worst version of himself and I happened to tell you that thing in passing?"
"He bullied you." Shouto with a tone of patience that made Izuku's blood boil.
"He did, and he's not anymore." Izuku mirrored his tone. Shouto lifted his eyebrows.
"Did he ever apologise?"
"No."
Shouto looked smug. Izuku felt absolutely livid.
"Why the fuck does it matter so much?"
"He likes you, Izuku!"
Izuku felt a laugh blurt past his lips and bounce off the walls back at him. It sounded like a stranger.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Shouto's arms flew up animatedly. "He bullied you because he liked you."
"You've got to be shitting me. We were 14, not toddlers on a playground. He didn't pull my ponytails and call me ugly." Izuku felt genuine laughter bubble in his chest, because what the fuck?
"What do you do when you're together then?" Shouto folded his arms across his chest, attempting to regain control of himself.
"We take photos! I pose, he's behind the camera. We go to the gym! It's nice , believe it or not, to have company while I'm working out."
Shouto nodded slowly. "And when you aren't at the gym or studio?"
Izuku glared at him. "He's teaching me to cook."
"So that's why you have a sudden fascination with the kitchen." Realization dawned on his face, a sudden understanding that Izuku didn't like.
"I was cooking to use all the free time because you're so busy all the time." Izuku let his hand fly in the general direction of their kitchen. "I was cooking for us, plus it was fun."
Shouto tilted his head to the side, thinking. "And conveniently, Katsuki Bakugou is there to fill in for me-."
"That's not what happened." Izuku couldn't let him believe that.
"Then what happened, Mido?"
"He offered."
"And why was that? Why does he want to spend so much time with you? And don't forget, you both drink together." Shouto's fingers gripped his biceps as though he was forcing himself to stay still.
"With a friend. We don't drink alone." Izuku was smug, because it was the truth.
"I don't care-"
"So why are you asking-" Izuku couldn't believe this conversation.
"You're with him all the time. You're with him more than you're with me." Shouto looked down his nose at Izuku, his rich smugness oozing now. His righteousness.
"And you're with your family more than you are with me." Izuku said with as much intent to sting as he could.
"Mido, we're going in circles." Shouto sighed.
"Yes, Todo. We are." Izuku thought the conversation could have been over long ago.
They were on opposite ends of the room, the air was cold and Izuku's cheeks were damp. His shirt had cold spots where the moisture had seeped into the cloth and sunk against his skin.
"Him or me." Shouto asked again. The words felt as painful as the first time.
"I'm not choosing." Izuku said stubbornly.
"I think you just did."
The silence that rushed into Izuku's eardrums made the room spin.
"I can't have him as a friend? You're that insecure?"
"No, Izuku. I'm not insecure. You're just no longer someone I recognise."
"Takes one to know one, I suppose."
Izuku glanced around the room. He should get his things and leave. But he didn't want to be here anymore. Not another second standing here in Shouto's space. Because it no longer felt collectively theirs.
He had nowhere to go.
One for All was no longer his.
"I'll come back for my shit tomorrow. And I'll leave the key under the door."
Shouto said nothing. He didn't even move to stop Izuku as he slid his laptop back onto his shoulder. He called an Uber and waited in the cold of the night air.
He needed to get his cameras. And while he was on his way there, he needed to figure out where he was going to stay.
There was a crash muffled by the barrier of the walls of their apartment as he stood, waiting. Izuku felt his eyes prickle as he ignored that he was about to leave his home.
His fingers scrolled through his contacts, all work related. He thought about going back home to his mother, but she was two hours away.
Kacchan glared back at him, burning his retinas in the dark, the streetlamps casting a sad glow. He remembered the man in the elevator and a twinge of longing washed over him. His safe space had become Katsuki's apartment, and it wasn't available.
In his recent calls, Eijirou's name lit up. After a moment of hesitation, he called. The Uber arrived as Eijirou answered.