Chapter Text
Bright sunlight made Todoroki squint as he stepped through the hospital’s automatic doors.
It was a beautiful day - surprisingly cool for June - with a pleasant breeze tossing Todoroki’s bangs. Even the hospital had seemed cheerful, his mother smiling softly as Todoroki opened her window, then laughing behind her hand as the wind caught the curtain and smacked her son in the face.
She had been laughing more and more lately, each giggle (and occasional snort) threading one more stitch across the fractures of the past between them. After all, Todoroki had heard that broken bones grow back stronger.
Closing his eyes leisurely, Todoroki basked in the sunlight.
A short buzz in Todoroki’s pocket interrupted his musings, and he pulled his phone out. Midoriya Izuku, the screen read. Speaking of broken bones...
As Todoroki typed in his passcode, another buzz rattled the phone, also courtesy of Midoriya Izuku. A perfectly suitable contact name, intentionally dull so as not to raise any suspicion. Kirishima had more than provided a cautionary tale last year, when Ashido had discovered that his contact name for Bakugou was “BakuuuBabe”, accompanied by a rather unfortunate string of emojis (the water droplets especially stood out). For nearly a month, a chorus of “Bakuuu!”s chimed whenever Bakugou entered a room or hallway, like some occult ritual.
A couple charred streaks remained on the hallway floors to this day. Needless to say, Todoroki wasn’t about to go putting Midoriya’s contact as ‘light of my life’, ‘reason green is my favorite color’, or any of those other intrusive thoughts that spun right ‘round like a record through Todoroki’s head whenever he was around the boy. Midoriya Izuku was proper, professional.
(Midoriya Izuku somehow still managed to send a pleasant chill up Todoroki’s spine.)
>> hey man, u still wanna join us or should we just go ahead and start ?
Todoroki glanced at the time, 10:37. Ah, he was running late. The unofficial little “Men of Class 1-A Weekend Workout Squad” (or “Swole Team 6,” as Kirishima called it) usually started an hour or so before lunch.
<< Count me in, if nobody minds waiting. I should be back on campus in half an hour.
>> great !! Midoriya replied almost immediately. see u there, Freezer Burn :)
‘Freezer Burn’, huh? That was a new one.
It really was a beautiful day, so Todoroki let the butterflies flit freely within him as he basked in the sun at the train stop. He liked when Midoriya called him nicknames. Or called him his real name. Or looked Todoroki’s way in general. It didn't take much, with Midoriya.
The breeze smelled like roses.
A couple minutes passed, and the train pulled into the station, rumbling to a halt. The doors slid open, revealing an angry couple, screeching hysterically. The warmth of the sun dissipated as Todoroki boarded and found a seat, as far from the racket as possible. He sighed - the peace had been nice while it lasted.
“Don’t even try giving me that bullshit again, Subaru!” some lady was yelling, her eyes cocooned in black eyeliner and long nails glittering in the fluorescent light. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, it’s like a dog drooling over a piece of meat. Or its own vomit. You’re disgusting, Subaru, a fucking disgrace!”
A man - presumably Subaru - threw his arms up in frustration. “For the last time, Mitsubishi, I told you that she’s just a friend. I’d hang out with any of my friends at 3 am, that’s no big deal! In fact, I’d love to go out late with you, but you insist on sleeping before midnight, like some senior citizen.”
“Yeah, so I love sleeping. Sue me!” Mitsubishi was really fuming now - it reminded Todoroki of someone, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “At least I do it alone. Unlike you, you fuck!”
Bakugou! The answer clicked in Todoroki’s head. That’s who Mitsubishi reminded him of. It must be the homicide in her eyes.
“T-that’s ridi- I can’t believe you’d say-!” Subaru stammered. “Mitsubishi, I would never.”
A wicked smile uncoiled across glossy red lips. “Is that so? Then why don’t we make ourselves 100% certain?”
Dread eclipsed Subaru’s face, and he began backpedaling both literally and figuratively, retreating into Todoroki’s personal space. Great. “N-now, there’s no need for extremes, babe. Have I mentioned how sexy you look in that lipstick color? Why would I ever even look at another girl when I have you!”
“Let’s find out,” Mitsubishi menaced, eyes positively sparking with ill-intent as she stretched out a hand towards her (soon to be ex, in Todoroki’s opinion) boyfriend. Her expression was downright murderous - had Bakugou mentioned having an aunt in the area?
Any musings surrounding Mitsubishi and possible relation to Bakugou were dispelled as Todoroki felt his phone vibrating on his knee. Midoriya Izuku. Ahhh. Todoroki put the phone up to his ear. “Hello, Midor--”
Three things then happened in quick succession:
1) The train cabin shuddered suddenly without warning.
2) Mitsubishi, caught off guard, lost her balance, desperately grabbing Todoroki’s shoulder in order to stay upright.
3) A violent bolt of nausea crackled through Todoroki, and his head swam painfully.
Thankfully, the train returned to its original course as quickly as it had left it. Todoroki’s stomach smoothly unwound, the nausea disappearing completely. He breathed heavily, eyebrows knit in confusion as he rubbed his shoulder where Mitsubishi had speared him with her nails. What the hell was that about? Had he eaten something bad?
A loud gasp tore Todoroki from his thoughts. Mitsubishi looked downright horrified, her hands slapping over her mouth. “Oh shit, shit, shit! Fuck, do you feel sick at- hey, wait.” Her heavily outlined eyes popped even wider, if possible. “Are you that Todoroki kid, from U.A.?”
“Yes,” Todoroki replied, curiously quickly. He normally tried to avoid drawing attention in public.
“Oh, I see you all over Twitter! You were so cool in the sports festival last year - I was totally rooting for you, by the way.” Mitsubishi beamed widely, a small blotch of lipstick disrupting the glare of her white teeth. Todoroki nodded weakly. To think, just a minute ago he had been calling her a relative of Bakugou.
Still smiling unnaturally wide, Mitsubishi beat a hasty retreat. Subaru, for his part, looked even more horrified than before. He opened his mouth, but Mitsubishi sent him another Bakugou glare, yanking her thumb and pointer across her lips harshly in the universal ‘zip your lips’ gesture.
Todoroki frowned. What was that about? And wait, what was up with that whole nausea thing?
He opened his mouth to inquire as such, but Midoriya chose that moment to conduct his own questioning. “Todoroki? Are you there? You stopped replying!”
The warm crackle of Midoriya’s voice, as always, quickly monopolized all of Todoroki’s brainpower, and soon enough, all thoughts of Mitsubishi and possible food poisoning had vanished.
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, the train got a little bumpy for a second…”
Todoroki exited the train station as carefree as he had entered it. It really was a beautiful day.
An hour later, Todoroki walked into the men’s locker room, a small duffel bag and water bottle in tow.
“Hey, bro!” Kirishima looked up from where he was tying his shoes, grinning. “Glad you decided to come!”
“Of course,” Todoroki replied a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Kirishima always greeted him like it was Todoroki’s first time working out with them, while in reality he attended nearly every week. Todoroki had actually been one of the founding members of the group (along with Midoriya and Iida), despite actually preferring to exercise alone.
Working out in groups was great, is all. Very important for both mind and body, building camaraderie. And if Todoroki had had an ulterior motive for forming Swole Team 6, then nobody had to know.
“Took you fucking long enough to get here, asshole,” Bakugou grumbled with a scowl, and in retrospect, Mitsubishi’s harshest expressions seemed downright welcoming.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Midoriya, the ulterior motive himself, beamed. “Taking the train can be such a pain.”
Todoroki only allowed his mind to dwell on gooey thoughts concerning green hair and bright eyes for a moment before he forcibly ejected them. “Thanks for waiting. So, what are we doing today?”
Iida raised his hand and sprung upright. “I would like to present an idea! Last night, I had a dream about Mr. Aizawa, and--”
“--Wow, how scandalous of our very own class president! I never knew you liked older men, Iida,” Kaminari interrupted, waggling his eyebrows.
Iida glared at Kaminari sternly, adjusting his glasses. “Not that kind of dream. Which should go without saying.” Another pointed glare. “In it, I forgot to turn in a large assignment, and Mr. Aizawa erased my quirk forever as punishment.” Iida shuddered. “It was an unpleasant dream. However, I began thinking about my abilities without my quirk, and I realized I’d like to work on my hand to hand combat skills without quirks.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Tokoyami nodded. “We should always be prepared for scenarios where our quirks are disabled. Darkness surely lurks behind every corner.”
The entire locker room chimed in agreement, collectively ignoring Tokoyami’s comment. Kaminari pulled a die from his pocket. “We can use this to pair up.”
“Why..are you carrying around dice?” Midoriya asked.
“I use them to do magic tricks,” Kaminari winked. “The ladies love them.”
Todoroki wasn’t so sure.
After a couple minutes, the group had split up. Todoroki ended up paired with Midoriya - of course he did. Why would the universe ever cut him a break, especially when his self-control was already on the wobbly side, crippled by changing in the same room as Midoriya? Sparring with his crush was a double-edged sword if ever one was forged, and there was no way he’d escape without any nicks.
“Hey, partner,” Midoriya jogged over to Todoroki. “This will be great training, don't you think?”
“I think. Yes, I do,” Todoroki babbled, a little thrown off by Midoriya’s radiance, then wanted to die when he realized what he'd said. God, there was no way he'd survive this, at this rate. The sword was already unsheathed.
Yet, impossibly, with 15 minutes past, Todoroki had managed to avoid any overtly self-incriminating actions. The sparring session couldn't make up its mind between rapture and torture.
A pro: Midoriya unconsciously licking his lips in concentration.
A con: Todoroki taking a hit every time Midoriya unconsciously licked his lips in concentration.
Pro: getting to ogle Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.
Con: resisting the urge to kiss Midoriya’s neck when he tossed his head back to drink water.
Pro: falling on top of Midoriya on more than one occasion, their bodies pressed close.
Con: desperately reciting mathematical formulas in his head to avoid a more, ahem, prominent reaction when Todoroki fell on top of Midoriya, their bodies pressed close.
Pro: practicing hand-to-hand combat technique, one of Todoroki’s rustier skills.
Con: Todoroki was not focusing on his hand-to-hand combat technique, one of his rustier skills.
Stars twinkled in Todoroki’s skull as Midoriya landed a particularly nasty right hook - Aoyama would have been delighted.
“C-crap, Todoroki, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard!” Midoriya’s eyebrows were knit in concern. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” Todoroki lied - or at least tried to. Somehow, the word wouldn’t come out. Todoroki frowned. “No”, he said, more firmly. Still, nothing came out but a raspy exhale.
Something akin to panic began rising in Todoroki. Had the punch screwed with his vocal chords? There was no way, right? He was just overreacting.
Midoriya, meanwhile, was wringing his hands anxiously. “T-todoroki? Oh my god. Please don’t tell me I gave you a concussion. Do you feel alright?”
Crap, he hadn’t meant to worry Midoriya. Todoroki took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself. Just say ‘Yes.’ He took one last deep exhale, focused, and…
An empty huff croaked out of Todoroki as agony suddenly cracked through his skull, and nausea slammed his body like a door in Paranormal Activity. Holy fuck, was he having an aneurysm? Todoroki groaned as a fresh wave of pain bowled him over, his head on the verge of imploding.
Midoriya appeared to be panicking, grabbing Todoroki’s shoulders. Todoroki yelped again, his side splitting. Fucking hell, he could hardly even see Midoriya through this haze in his head. His stomach tweaked in all the wrong ways.
“No!” Todoroki shouted desperately, completely involuntarily. Midoriya’s eyes, all watery, widened in confusion at his outburst. “No, I don’t feel ‘alright’.”
And just like that, all traces of pain vanished. What the hell?!
“Todoroki? S-shouto?” Midoriya’s voice and eyes wobbled in unison. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Todoroki whispered, with complete ease. Huh? Unease settled in Todoroki’s bones. He had absolutely no idea what was happening to him.
Absently, Todoroki caught a vague scent of smoke, and a breeze tickled his side. Shit, he must have partially singed through his shirt because of the pain.
“Do you feel stable?” Midoriya implored, hands tightening their grip on Todoroki’s shoulders.
“Yes,” Todoroki replied again, perfectly fine.
“Oh my god, thank heavens,” Midoriya sobbed, wrapping Todoroki in a desperate hug. Todoroki could feel the boy’s heart pounding through his charred shirt, which was, well… If Todoroki didn’t feel so freaked out, he certainly would’ve ascended to Cloud 9 by now.
“I’m so, so sorry, Todoroki!” Midoriya squeezed him even tighter, hands balling up against Todoroki’s back. “Y-you just normally dodge punches, and I banked on that and put too much force into it, and then you started grabbing your head and smoking and curling up and oh my god it was so terrifying, and I’m so sorry, and I would never ever hit you that hard on purpose, you know that right?!”
Todoroki nodded, Midoriya’s soft hair tickling his chin. He focused on the warm, solid body pressed up against his and melted into the embrace, pulse relaxing. Whatever the hell that episode had been, it was over now.
Except-- the beginnings of a headache began unfurling in Todoroki’s temples and he stiffened. As soon as he opened his mouth to suck in a nervous breath, however, he found himself murmuring “Of course I know that, Izuku” into Midoriya’s hair.
Todoroki’s burgeoning headache dissipated as his confusion returned in full force. He hadn’t meant to say that, even though it was true. And wait, had he just called Midoriya ‘Izuku’?
A slight flush rose in Todoroki. He really hadn’t meant to say that. What was happening to him?! Maybe I do have a concussion...
Todoroki broke the hug, taking a few tentative steps back. He still didn’t entirely trust his body to not belly flop into a swimming pool of agony at any moment.
Specks of ash from Todoroki’s shirt stuck to Midoriya’s own. The boy picked at them absently. “You, uh, did you just call me ‘Izuku’?”
“Ah, um, yes.” Todoroki flushed further. “I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry.”
“No, no!” Midoriya’s hands waved in protest. “It's..nice. You should call me Izuku all the time.”
“Huh?” Todoroki breathed, quite eloquently.
“I said,” oh man, apparently it was now Midoriya’s turn to glow bright red, “that you should call me Izuku. If you want.”
“Oh,” Todoroki replied, lamely. “I do want to. And call me Shouto. -only if you want to. Too.”
“Whatever you say, Shouto,” Midoriya grinned, and began gathering his things. “I think we’ve done enough for today. I'll see you at lunch!”
“Yeah. See you.”
Midoriya looked expectant. Oh. “...Izuku.”
The name melted pleasantly in Todoroki’s mouth, like cotton candy, and Midoriya bounced on his heels.
“And just so you know-”
Todoroki paused with his water bottle halfway to his face, glancing at Midoriya.
“Just so you know,” Midoriya repeated, eyes flickering down. “You should, uh, put on another shirt before lunch. Yeah. Bye!”
Midoriya left, and Todoroki looked down at his tattered top, only half remaining.
The walk back to the locker room was occupied by Todoroki berating himself for allowing himself to think that Midoriya’s cheeks had glowed ever-so-brighter with his parting comment.
If wishes were fishes, Todoroki could open a goddamn aquarium.
Back in the locker room, Todoroki mindlessly slipped on a fresh shirt, as if his brain had subconsciously labeled Midoriya’s suggestion as its top priority.
It wasn't far fetched.
Todoroki’s stomach surged softly as his mind replayed his inexplicable agony earlier, and a cold sweat broke out over his skin.
Too freaked out to shower just yet, Todoroki collapsed onto a sink in the locker room, knuckles white as they clenched the porcelain. What’s wrong with me? How can the headaches appear and disappear so quickly?
Mismatched eyes found themselves in the mirror, and Todoroki stared intensely at the glass, imploring his own reflection for answers.
Does the pain only activate with questions, like some strange cousin of Shinsou’s quirk? But the pain only happened twice, and Midoriya definitely asked more than two questions.
Unfortunately, Todoroki’s reflection seemed just as confused as he was, and offered no solutions. The glass fogged as Todoroki sighed in frustration.
Is it even the work of a quirk in the first place? I could just be getting random headaches... Midoriya did hit me pretty hard.
“Checking yourself out, Todoroki?” Kirishima’s grinning face joined Todoroki’s in the mirror, creating a pretty decent rendition of the comedy/tragedy mask. Todoroki stiffened - he hadn’t heard his classmate enter and wasn’t quite in the mood for conversation.
“I, I wasn’t checking myself out.” Todoroki felt the strange urge to clarify. Thankfully, no tendrils of pain began unfurling in his head. So it's not question-based?
“Sure you weren’t,” Kirishima grinned even wider. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that the entire rest of the class has got that covered. Hell, more like the entire rest of the country.”
Well that was...generous. “Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it, Pretty Boy.” Kirishima crowded closer to Todoroki in the mirror, eyes scanning Todoroki’s reflection. “Damn dude, speaking of that iconic face, what the hell happened to your jaw? That’s shaping up to be quite the bruise.”
Ah, Kirishima was right - only then did Todoroki notice the throbbing along his jawline. “I accidentally let my guard down during my spar with Midoriya. It was a stupid mistake.”
Kirishima clapped an arm around Todoroki’s shoulders. “Don’t be too hard on yourself there, everybody loves a guy with some battle scars. It shows moxie. Besides, I know exactly what you're talking about.” Kirishima winked.
Todoroki simply nodded, a bit lost.
“So tell me, Hot Stuff - or should it be Cold Stuff? I’m gonna go with Lukewarm Stuff. So tell me, Lukewarm Stuff, just what did Midoriya do to cost you that bruise?” He winked again. Kirishima seemed to like winking. “My bet is he got hot and took his shirt off.”
Speaking of getting hot, the air in the room suddenly felt quite oven-like, and Todoroki desperately battled three scrapbooks’ worth of mental images. Midoriya did tend to shed clothing when warm, a fact that reflected quite poorly on Todoroki’s faint, gay heart.
Todoroki gripped the sink even tighter, refusing to encourage Kirishima with an answer.
Kirishima bulldozed on, encouraged. “Don’t worry, man, there's no shame here. I of all people understand the deadly combo of shirtlessness and sweat. It’ll really get ya. For a while I’d nearly turn Katsuki down if he asked to spar because I knew I'd end up staring and leave with a game of connect-the-bruises across my body.” Kirishima hummed. “Plus, he's just really freaking good at hand-to-hand.”
Todoroki didn’t even have a chance to become flustered before that terrifying, now-familiar flutter of nausea laced through his gut. His jaw throbbed as he grit his teeth in apprehension.
Kirishima seemed to notice his unease. “Woah, dude, I’m sorry if I went a little too far there. I really am!” The nausea grew, becoming just this side of excruciating. “In my own dumbass way, I was just trying to let you know that I’ve been in your situation and I’d be more than happy to-”
“His pants were tight!” Todoroki spit out, feeling the nausea recede. “Midoriya was wearing these ridiculous pants that started clinging everywhere when he sweat, and…”
A palm swung up to stop Todoroki. “Say no more. We’re more than on the same wavelength. Katsuki likes to wear these thin tank tops that really fuck me up.” Kirishima sighed fondly. “In a good way.”
The mirror, helpfully, supplied Todoroki with knowledge of just how lost he looked, and Kirishima blessedly took mercy.
“I'm oversharing, aren't I?” He scratched his neck sheepishly.
Flatly: “Yes.”
“That's my bad. Again, I just want you to know that I've been there, and I get it. I know you like Midoriya for way more than that sort of thing, don't worry. Mind above the gutter, yeah?”
Todoroki opened his mouth to demand how Kirshima had figured him out, to deflect, to agree - practically anything except what actually came out. “Not all of the time, no. I fantasize about Midoriya quite regularly, sometimes even in my dreams.”
Oh god, oh hell no. Why did he keep saying stuff like this, stuff that was way too...personal? And true, disgustingly true. Kirishima, bless him, just laughed awkwardly.
Todoroki turned red and away from Kirishima, snatching up his things. “I’m. I'll be in my room. Alright bye.”
Kirishima didn't even protest.
Outside of the locker room, Todoroki collapsed against the wall, clutching his water bottle to his heaving chest.
Just what - to reiterate - the actual fuck was going on?