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Izuku didn’t know when he actually realized it, because it crept upon him as more of a trickle than a wave.
He knew that the girls thought Todoroki was attractive. He was—Izuku wasn’t blind—but when he looked at Todoroki he paid more attention to the look on his face than the way his features were arranged. Two and a half years of friendship had made him an adventurer, exploring the meanings behind Todoroki’s expressions and words. There was a whole world beneath the surface that Izuku had become practiced at uncovering, if only in pieces.
It was the little moments when the wall behind Todoroki’s eyes dropped, when the door opened and the universe inside was revealed, that Izuku knew meant something. He could probably count them on his hands, and he remembered every one.
The first was the most explosive. A boy made of ice bursting into flames in a packed arena. Izuku only knew that this was the first time in retrospect, but he remembered the look in Todoroki’s eyes so clearly he could draw it from memory.
The third, when Todoroki stumbled breathlessly into a dark alley, phone in hand, eyes searching for Izuku’s form in the chaos of a fight with a hero killer.
The fifth, when Izuku fell asleep on a couch in the common room and Todoroki found him at two in the morning. They talked quietly about nothing at all until it was nearly sunrise, and when Izuku made jokes Todoroki laughed.
The seventh, in the beginning of their third year, when Todoroki finally controlled a ball of blue flame—something he’d been secretly practicing for months—and he turned to Izuku with a wild, confident look in his eyes. He smiled tiredly, fiercely, only at Izuku. Izuku’s throat closed up.
Oh.
And then that was that.
The realization didn’t change all that much. In a way, Izuku had known since their first year. He knew he spent a lot of time with Todoroki, thought about him a lot. Thought about him in ways he wasn’t necessarily proud of, once the moment was over. Somehow he’d always found ways to turn it around in his head until it was normal. Platonic. A friend thing.
When it was finally out in the open and he couldn’t rationalize it anymore, Izuku did two things. He accepted it, first. Feelings were feelings, and now that he knew what his were he could order them in his head. Second, he bundled the feelings neatly into a ball and tucked them into permanent storage. Todoroki had grown into himself in so many ways, and Izuku couldn’t conceive of doing something to interfere with that.
Which is why it was totally okay that they were sharing a hotel room.
Getting a hotel for almost the entirety of Class 1-A was more than a little suspicious, and Izuku knew he wasn’t the only one who was thinking it. They were practicing some disaster relief in a nearby city—coastal, recently hit by storm surge following a typhoon. It was natural that they’d have to be put up somewhere, but something about it felt too fancy. Jirou was keeping tabs on any suspicious conversations throughout the building, and she was going to text everyone if something stood out.
Izuku was on edge, of course, and he wasn’t sure which situation was causing more of his anxiety. As he and Todoroki entered their room—after checking behind the door and in the bathroom—Izuku murmured to himself, his subconscious reminding him helpfully that they’d all slept in the same room on many occasions, and in much closer quarters.
That was, his brain responded helplessly, before we knew.
The room at least had two beds, thank god. Todoroki dropped his bag by the bed furthest from the window, and Izuku trailed behind him, examining the room carefully. There was shiny faux-wood desk, a TV, and a lamp beside an uncomfortable-looking armchair. Unremarkable.
Todoroki wordlessly called dibs on the first shower by making a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they were settled. Izuku sat on the edge of his bed, stiff with the decorative quilt, and let a wave of exhaustion rush over him. His forearms were incredibly sore—an unforeseen aspect of being the go-to for lifting heavy objects was that they required more than biceps and a strong back. Monitoring his grip strength with One for All was a challenge that Izuku had more than conquered their second year, but it didn’t make clutching at a piece of concrete any less difficult on his hands.
When Todoroki emerged from the shower his hair was wet and he was already completely clothed; he had a matching set of blue pajamas that he’d grown a bit too tall for.
“The hot water knob is really sensitive,” he said, dumping his hero outfit in a pile on his duffel bag. His hair dripped onto his nose and he wiped the water away. Izuku caught himself as he watched a droplet slide down the side of Todoroki’s neck, and he cleared his throat.
“Did you dry your hair?” he asked.
Todoroki looked at him, the only sign of surprise the infinitesimal rise of his eyebrows. “No.”
Izuku felt a little dumb. “Did you forget?”
Todoroki opened his mouth to respond and then cocked his head to the side, eyes drifting up in thought. “I usually just…” he started, holding up his left hand and wiggling the fingers. He ran them through his hair, and Izuku watched as steam rose. The next droplet threatening to drip onto his nose evaporated. Izuku blinked, paused, and then snorted despite himself.
Todoroki at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. His hair was puffy and it stuck out in several directions.
“I comb it back down,” Todoroki assured.
Izuku managed to get out a “I never would have thought of that,” before his brain caught up to his eyes and he choked silently. He looked away, pretending he was going through his bag.
He’s the cutest human on the entire planet, Izuku thought rationally, blindly grabbing several pieces of clothing and standing.
“Thanks for the advice about the shower,” he said quickly.
“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked as Izuku speedwalked past him and through the bathroom door.
“I’m great!” Izuku said, closing the door so quickly he felt a burst of wind.
This isn’t a thing, he scolded himself, his back against the door. Stop making it into a thing. You’ve been acting weird for weeks and he’s noticing and then he’s going to Ask and you’re going to have to Lie.
Lying was the last thing that Izuku ever wanted to do to Todoroki. He dropped the clothes in his hand onto the closed toilet seat and turned on the shower. It was, as Todoroki had warned, either a little too hot or a little too cold the entire time.
When Izuku got out of the shower, Todoroki was already tucked into bed, reading something that looked very old by the light of his bedside lamp. Izuku quietly slipped his hero outfit into his bag and plugged his phone into the outlet on the nightstand. There were occasional traffic noises from outside, but the room was pleasantly quiet. The heater was running softly by the ceiling.
“What’s that?” Izuku asked lightly as he pulled back the blankets on his own bed.
“The Prince,” Todoroki said. “Machiavelli.”
Izuku hummed. It sounded vaguely familiar—maybe a passing mention in a middle school history class. “Is it good?”
Todoroki shook his head and turned a page delicately. “My father wants me to read it before I see him again. He says he wants me to ‘internalize the essential themes.’ As I read, I’m starting to understand why.”
Izuku wrinkled his nose. “In a bad way?”
Todoroki glanced over. “In a bad way.”
“Of course,” Izuku sighed.
“I looked it up, though,” Todoroki continued, “and there’s a whole school of thought that says that it might be satire. I don’t think he’s aware of that.” He gave the book a grim smile. “I don’t think I’ll tell him.”
Izuku hummed and nestled himself into his bed. The blankets were always tucked too far under the mattress and it felt like his feet were duct taped to the bed. He kicked like he was swimming to loosen them and then settled back onto the pillow. Immediately he felt a wave of soreness wash over him and he groaned. He hadn’t realized how tired his body was, that the simple act of relaxing his muscles felt like melting. He rolled onto his side and shoved his face into the pillow, more ready to be asleep than he’d felt in a very long time.
When he opened his eyes he saw that Todoroki was watching him, a tiny smile on his face.
“What?” Izuku asked. Todoroki shook his head and turned back to the book.
“Go to sleep. Let me know if the light bothers you.”
“I could sleep through a tornado right now,” Izuku murmured, his eyes already closing again on their own. “Can you set the alarm?”
The sound of another page turning. It was such a quiet, calm sound in the soft silence of the room. “I’ve got it.”
Izuku heard maybe one, maybe two more quiet page turns, the hum of the heater, and nothing else.
Izuku was awoken from a very pleasant sleep by a hand shaking his shoulder and a whispered “Midoriya.”
Immediately Izuku jumped awake, sitting up on his elbows. He blinked away sleep and looked up to find Todoroki leaning over him, face pale in the blue light from the window. Todoroki put a finger to his lips and Izuku nodded.
“What’s going on?” Izuku whispered. Todoroki tapped the finger against his lips again. Quieter. Okay.
Izuku wasn’t entirely prepared for Todoroki to lean down and whisper directly into his ear, but he did an admirable job of not reacting to the shiver that went straight down his spine. “The room is bugged,” Todoroki whispered almost imperceptibly. Izuku’s eyes blew wide.
Where? Izuku mouthed silently. Todoroki jerked his head toward the desk and then crept toward it. Izuku followed his finger and then, just barely, saw a sliver of red light peeking out from behind a piece of black tape.
How Todoroki had seen that Izuku had no idea, but it put him on edge in an instant. He carefully slipped out of bed and flicked on the bedside light. He half expected to see a villain creeping in the shadows, but there was no one there.
No video? Izuku mouthed. Todoroki shrugged.
No lens, he replied soundlessly.
Was this a test? It seemed like the sort of thing that Yuuei would set up, but at the same time it was such a tiny device, hidden well enough that Izuku would never have noticed it on his own. There wasn’t much use to a test if they didn’t even know it existed.
Eraser, Izuku mouthed. Todoroki nodded. He glanced around before his eyes settled on the phone sitting on the nightstand between their beds.
It was going to make noise, but Aizawa didn’t carry around a phone to text, at least not regularly. Todoroki typed in the room number and Izuku could hear the ring from where he sat. Todoroki met his gaze as a sleepy voice answered.
“What?” Aizawa said gruffly. Izuku could hear his voice muffled through the receiver.
“It’s Midoriya and Todoroki,” Todoroki said, voice calm and alarmingly casual.
“Talk.”
“We’re having a little trouble sleeping,” Todoroki continued, eyes flicking from Izuku to the spot below the desk. “I think someone might have left the window open. There seems to be a fly on the wall.”
Izuku hid a smile.
“We were wondering if we could come by and pick up the bug spray,” Todoroki finished. His voice didn’t betray any deception. His eyes gleamed in the slivers of light peeking around the window blinds.
There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “How many eyes does the bug have?”
“None, as far as I can see,” Todoroki replied.
“Okay. Come on over. Bring your bags.”
There was a click. Todoroki frowned. “He hung up.”
Izuku eyed up the spot below the table. “Let’s go get that bug spray then, huh?”
They grabbed their bags and Izuku slipped on his boots. It wasn’t much, but if he needed to be able to use his quirk he didn’t want a Full Cowl jump to break his toes. Todoroki shrugged on his own jacket, unzipped over his pajama shirt, and they crept out into the hallway.
Izuku squinted against the light. “I knew something like this was bound to happen.”
“It’s not a Yuuei field trip without a test they didn’t tell us about,” Todoroki murmured back. Izuku snorted.
Aizawa’s room wasn’t far down the hall, on the opposite side of a vending machine from the room Jirou and Yaoyorozu shared. Todoroki rapped three times on the door and then they waited.
There was a thud, then a tiny “fuck,” and then Aizawa opened the door, looking as though he hadn’t slept all week. He analyzed their faces and then stepped back, letting them into the room.
It was about the same as their room—it even had the same printed painting on the wall. There was only one major difference, as far as he could see. Aizawa shut the door with a click and then sighed.
“It’s always you two, isn’t it?” he grumbled. Izuku grimaced. Todoroki didn’t seem fazed. “You’re sure it’s not a smoke detector or something, right?”
“They don’t keep those under desks, usually,” Todoroki said. “Covered with electrical tape.”
“Ah, well,” Aizawa sighed. “Worth a shot. I’ll go check it out. The likelihood that it’s targeted is low, since anyone could have been in that room. I guess you two should stay here.”
“For the night?” Izuku asked. Aizawa shrugged—as close to a nod as he seemed able to do. Immediately Izuku’s eyes flicked over to the one major difference between this room and their old one.
The singular queen bed.
“We can help investigate,” Todoroki said. Aizawa shook his head.
“Sleeping students being recorded without permission is a legal nightmare,” he said. “Consider it a favor.”
Todoroki had already put his bag down. “Okay.”
It was absolutely not okay, but Izuku couldn’t say that, so he echoed a less assertive “okay.” Aizawa instructed them not to leave the room for anything and that they should get some sleep, since it was a time of night that shouldn’t, in good conscience, exist. Then he left, carrying nothing with him. He didn’t seem to have even packed a bag for the trip.
Izuku let out a long sigh and put his bag at the foot of the bed, and for a few moments it was quiet.
“It’s a nice room,” Todoroki commented. It was exactly the same as their old room. Except for the one bed. Izuku hummed.
“How did you even notice that thing?” he asked, half to distract himself. Todoroki shrugged. “Did you wake up for the bathroom?”
“Sure,” Todoroki said, sitting down in the office chair by the desk with a leg under him.
Izuku narrowed his eyes. “Did you even fall asleep?”
“I was reading.”
“It’s three in the morning,” Izuku said. He perched on the edge of the bed. He realized he probably look a little silly in just his shorts and boots. “I’m not trying to interrogate you. I just…” he trailed off and shook his head. “You didn’t have any bad dreams, did you?”
“No,” Todoroki said. He met Izuku’s gaze and smiled a little, in an unfortunate way. “Not sleeping, it turns out, is a great way not to have nightmares.”
“Is that so,” Izuku murmured, kicking his feet a little. He reached down to unstrap his boots, slipping his feet out of them and setting them at the foot of the bed. He sat crosslegged on the blanket. He watched Todoroki for a moment, trying his best not to worry. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to talk about,” Todoroki replied, but the way he trailed off made Izuku press a little more.
“Do you think you’ll be able to get to sleep now?” he asked. “I mean, tomorrow’s just as big a day as today. You don’t want to crash.”
“I know,” Todoroki said. He squinted at the desk, thinking.
Izuku knew that he should be trying to get to sleep, but he was antsy with the need to do something. “I’m going to explore the room a little,” he said.
Todoroki grunted and watched Izuku walk over to the bathroom. It wasn’t particularly different from the one in Izuku and Todoroki’s previous room, and it looked absolutely untouched. The toilet paper was still folded into a little triangle. The bed also looked entirely unslept-in—it didn’t seem as though Aizawa had spent any time in the room at all.
There were several pictures on the walls and a tiny walk-in closet with spare bedsheets and an iron. There were curtains along the far wall and, curiously, across from the bed. There was no way there was a window there—as far as Izuku knew the other side of that wall was in Yaoyorozu’s and Jirou’s room.
“That’s mysterious,” Todoroki said, as though he’d read Izuku’s mind.
“Mysterious,” Izuku echoed, unhooking the curtain from a little loop on the wall and pulling it back.
It took him a second, but the moment he realized what he was seeing he gasped. “Oh my god,” he huffed, giggling.
“What?” Todoroki asked, leaning forward in the office chair.
“It’s a Jacuzzi,” Izuku said, stepping back.
“You’re kidding,” Todoroki said, rolling the chair over. “You’re not kidding.”
“We have to,” Izuku said. Todoroki blinked at him and then snorted.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Some villains are going to come bursting in and we’ll be soaking wet, in our underwear,” Todoroki said. Izuku choked a little and covered it with a cough. “Sounds like a good game plan.”
“You can dry yourself off,” Izuku bargained once he could talk again. “You did it earlier.”
Todoroki eyed the Jacuzzi blankly, but Izuku could see the suspicion hiding underneath his straight face. An idea dawned on Izuku and he shifted from foot to foot.
“It might…” Izuku started, wondering if he was being too much of a nag, “…help, actually? If you were having trouble sleeping. It’s basically a hot bath, right?” Todoroki’s eyes trailed away from the tub and Izuku held up his hands. “Only if you want to. I just…” He laughed. “Can you imagine how jealous Kaminari and Kirishima will be?”
Todoroki cracked the outline of a smile. “Incredibly.”
“You basically have to,” Izuku said. He blinked. “If you want to.”
“You’re awful at peer pressure,” Todoroki said. Izuku shrugged.
“If it’s convincing then I think I’m pretty good at it,” he replied. Todoroki rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“Okay,” he said.
Izuku huffed out a tiny laugh and ran his fingers through his hair. “That was easy.”
“Honestly,” Todoroki said, “you got me at making Kaminari and Kirishima jealous.”
“You’re so much more spiteful than you let on,” Izuku laughed.
“It’s hereditary,” Todoroki drawled.
Izuku snorted and leaned over the tub, looking for the water knobs. He put on the hot water and let it run. Todoroki watched him silently. Izuku took a breath and then looked up.
“If you’re feeling…” he started, and then he cut himself off. Todoroki didn’t prompt him, watching instead with quiet expectation. “If there’s anything I can do,” Izuku tried again, “when you’re feeling shitty…let me know? Like, if I can help at all. Or let me know if I’m doing something that doesn’t help?”
Todoroki nodded slowly. “It’s really not that big of a deal,” he said. He paused, and there was something very serious in his eyes. “But thank you.”
Izuku smiled to himself and watched the water fill the bottom of the tub. “You want a towel?”
“Unless you want the humidity to spike when I get out, probably.”
Izuku felt the ‘too late for that’ quip on the tip of his tongue but, in a fit of foresight, swallowed it. It was funny, and Todoroki would probably think it was lame, and it would cut a little too close to the core of Izuku’s most recent anxiety. The irrational fear of Todoroki thinking it was weird, thinking it was too much, kept it locked in Izuku’s mind. He substituted it with: “My hair doesn’t need the extra poof.”
The towels were on a shelf in the bathroom. Izuku didn’t know how many Todoroki might want—he might be one of those people who used the different size towels for different things. Izuku wasn’t sure what the different purposes were, exactly, like the different sized forks at a formal dinner. He grabbed the whole stack.
If his brain were working, and it weren’t three in the morning, he might have been more prepared for stepping out and finding Todoroki halfway through taking off his shirt. He undid the last button and shrugged it off of his shoulders and laid it across the chair he’d been sitting in. There was the record scratch moment—and it was so stupid, because Izuku had seen Todoroki change before. They’d spent time in the same locker room before and after PE, getting ready to go out on missions, at the pool, at hot springs, for god’s sake. It was so stupid that this felt any different, but it did. The situation was different, and Todoroki wasn’t taking off his clothes with the promise of changing into others.
Izuku’s eyes worked against his own will and flicked to Todoroki’s waistband, the skin above it, the way you could follow the line down from his ribs to his hips. Then Izuku wrestled the controls back and blinked away, smiling his best, gesturing with the pile of towels.
“Got the whole spread.”
Todoroki smiled and Izuku put the towel stack on the floor next to the tub. The tub filled pretty efficiently. Then Izuku saw Todoroki’s hands heading for the waistband of his pajama pants and he turned as quickly as possible back toward the bed. He made a beeline to his own bag and pretended to be looking for something in it, the sound of the zipper almost masking the sound of Todoroki placing his pants on the same chair as his shirt.
He rummaged for a few long moments, mindlessly folding his hero suit and putting it back, until he heard the turning of a knob and the water stopping. He waited until he heard Todoroki step into the Jacuzzi before he finally let himself turn around.
It didn’t help all that much, but at least he could only see Todoroki’s shoulders above the water. Todoroki looked up at him, like he was waiting for Izuku to say or do something. Izuku smiled.
“How’s the water?”
“Good?” Todoroki ventured. “It’s water.”
“No, but like,” Izuku tried, “warm? Relaxing? There are jets probably, if you want that.”
“It’s warm,” Todoroki said. “I don’t know what relaxing is, though, so I’m not sure about the second one.”
It always took Izuku a second to register when Todoroki was making a joke, but when he did he always laughed. Todoroki gave a tiny smile and then settled back, sighing and closing his eyes.
Izuku stared for a second before he realized that he looked like the biggest creep, just watching his best friend in the bathtub. His gaze snapped away and fell, coincidentally, on the TV remote. It might be weird to go to sleep while Todoroki was in the Jacuzzi (not to mention difficult—knowing what was so close to him but unattainable didn’t ever make for restful sleep), but just sitting and trying to make conversation might be just as weird.
So Izuku turned on the TV and flicked through a couple of channels, skipping past the news and stopping on the first thing he saw that looked like a game show or talk show.
“What are you doing?” Todoroki asked. Izuku started for no real reason.
“Huh?”
“I thought…” Todoroki said, “…aren’t you getting in?”
Izuku suddenly felt like there was no air in the room and he sucked in a heavy breath of nothing. He sputtered for what seemed like a full minute, though it couldn’t have been more than a second. “Oh,” he finally choked out.
“I thought you wanted to,” Todoroki said.
“I did,” Izuku started. “I thought you might want to be alone? I mean, I do…I mean…you should relax and…that’s more important? Right?”
“You coerced me into this,” Todoroki pointed out. Izuku wrinkled his nose.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“The least you can do it relax with me,” Todoroki said, giving Izuku a challenging look. “You’re just as tired.”
There was very little Izuku could do when Todoroki was trying to convince him of something, and so he set his jaw, nodded, and walked a little awkwardly over to the tub. And oh dear, he needed to keep his field of view very narrow because the water was completely clear and Todoroki was sitting there in his underwear and it was wet and Izuku pulled his shirt off quickly only to block his traitorous, wandering eyes.
“That’s healing pretty well,” Todoroki said. Izuku put his shirt on the floor, much less neatly than Todoroki had put his own clothes. There was a scar along the base of his ribs—the result of a villain with a sword-related quirk and a lot of backup—that had started to keloid in the center. It had needed quite a few stitches, even with an emergency Recovery Girl visit. Most of Izuku’s other scars were fading and flat, but this one seemed to have a very different idea. He’d probably have it this size for the rest of his life. It was an odd thing to think about.
“I guess,” he said. “It’s better than it could have been.” It occurred to him that if Todoroki saw him without a shirt enough to know how well his scars were healing then he was making even more of an idiot out of himself by making this weird. He slipped his pants off and was glad he’d decided to wear loose boxers to sleep.
“Obviously it won’t look like the others,” Todoroki said. Izuku shrugged and felt the water. “Too hot?”
Izuku shook his head, but as he stepped in he felt the water cool almost imperceptibly anyway. He smiled and sat across from Todoroki, and immediately he regretted not putting up more of a fight.
A hot spring was public, communal, and there were lots of other people around. He remembered seeing Todoroki almost completely under the water, just his head poking up, with a tiny towel balanced on it, and he remembered thinking how cute it was.
This was a completely different ball game. The water only reached halfway up Todoroki’s chest, and Izuku could see his body continue underneath in a way that was impossible at a hot spring. It was also just the two of them, and the realization of how close they were and how this was as far apart as they could physically get in the tub made it so much more nerve-wracking.
“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked lightly. Izuku nodded vigorously, smiling as well as he could. Todoroki didn’t look impressed. “You’ve been acting a little bit weird. Is something going on?”
Fuck. Fuck shit fuck. This was exactly what Izuku had been trying to avoid. He shrugged and did his best to sound believable when he said, “I’ve just been tired, is all.”
“Are you sure?” Todoroki pressed, and Izuku realized a bit grimly that this was probably how he sounded all the time. He wondered if Todoroki had anything like this that he was trying to hide, and if Izuku’s constant checking in got him nervous, too.
“Yup!” Izuku said, and immediately he knew how fake it sounded. Todoroki watched him impassively, clearly unimpressed, and then the water turned into ice.
Not literally, but it absolutely felt like it. Izuku shrieked, his arms jerking out of the water. He looked up at Todoroki like he was crazy. In another instant, the water became warm again, and it felt too hot against Izuku’s flash-frozen skin.
“What was that for?” he demanded. Todoroki didn’t respond. Before Izuku had a chance to recover the water turned absolutely freezing again. He kicked at Todoroki, who dodged the hit. The splash sent a bit of water over the edge of the tub. The water warmed again, and Izuku could see the barest hint of a smile on Todoroki’s face.
“You’re terrible,” Izuku accused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Todoroki replied flatly. The sparkle in his eyes said otherwise.
Another cold flash, and then immediately back to warm. Izuku laughed out loud at the shock and splashed at Todoroki’s face. Then the surface of the water turned into solid ice, underneath which the water was still just as warm as before. It was the strangest feeling, and Izuku was also completely trapped by the ice sheet. He broke through with a little 1% to his arms and pointed a finger at Todoroki.
“Young man,” he warned, and Todoroki finally broke. He snickered and turned the water warm again.
“Midoriya-shounen,” he intoned, and Izuku burst into laughter. As he was laughing the water shot cold and then warm again almost too fast for Izuku to register, but he still jumped. Todoroki’s shoulders shook a little but his laugh was silent.
“Quit it!” Izuku demanded. Todoroki shrugged.
“Quit what?” he asked, almost achieving demure but missing by a few degrees.
“Quit using your quirk for evil,” Izuku said. Todoroki feigned shock.
“Me?” he asked.
“I thought you wanted to relax,” Izuku bargained. Todoroki shrugged.
“I think it’s pretty relaxing,” he said, and—just as Izuku expected—turned the water into an ice bath. Izuku shivered violently and splashed Todoroki again. The moment the water hit Todoroki’s face it turned into steam and sizzled away. “Isn’t this good for your muscles?” he asked, unfazed.
The water turned hot again, and Izuku had to admit that the switch back felt really, really good. He couldn’t let Todoroki know that, though, so he just rolled his eyes and surged forward, his hands finding Todoroki’s sides and digging in.
Todoroki watched him stoically. Izuku sighed. “Really?” he whined. “Not at all?” He pulled his hands back and sat down again. “You aren’t ticklish?”
“Not there,” Todoroki said enigmatically. Izuku narrowed his eyes and then his arm shot out under the water, right above Todoroki’s knee. Todoroki didn’t flinch.
Izuku’s hand swept along under the water until it was hovering above Todoroki’s foot. No change in his face. Izuku brought his arm out of the water and leaned so his fingers were going for Todoroki’s neck. The barest flinch, and Izuku wiggled his eyebrows.
“Gotcha,” he said, and then pulled his arm back. Todoroki rolled his eyes. “I won’t abuse my power,” Izuku continued, “because I’m not a big meanie.”
“It is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity,” Todoroki said. “It’s right there in the book.”
“Terrible,” Izuku repeated. He watched Todoroki for a long second. This was nice, and this was easy, and he wondered why he’d been so nervous just a few minutes ago. He knew Todoroki and whether or not he had extra feelings didn’t change that. “You want to turn on the jets?” he asked.
“The what?” Todoroki asked. Izuku tapped a hole in the side of the tub.
“The water jets. It is a Jacuzzi. We can’t just use it like a bathtub or Kaminari and Kirishima will just make fun of us.”
Todoroki hummed thoughtfully and then looked around himself. “Compelling point. How do we do that?”
“The buttons are over on your side,” Izuku said. Todoroki turned a bit awkwardly to look over the control panel behind his left shoulder. After a moment he glanced back to Izuku.
“I don’t know what any of this means.”
“Aren’t they labeled?” Izuku asked, puzzled. “Hold on, let me…”
He leaned over, trying to get a look. The buttons had little symbols on them, and one of them was a dial that went from zero to ten. It was hard to tell exactly what the buttons were, especially with the light from the lamp hitting the shiny metal in just the wrong way. He scooted over, getting on one knee and leaning over by Todoroki’s shoulder.
“I think this one is the back jets,” he said, his finger hovering over a buttons with four dots on it. Next to it was one with the outline of a foot on it. “The floor jets, probably,” he murmured to himself. The dial was probably the intensity of the jets. “Which ones do you want on?”
Todoroki didn’t answer. Izuku looked down and, realizing he could only see the side of Todoroki’s head, sat back a little to look at his face. “What’s—” he started, but then he froze. Todoroki was looking pointedly away, and as Izuku’s curiosity about the control panel faded he realized where he was.
It wasn’t that he was in Todoroki’s lap, per se. One of his knees was on the outside of Todoroki’s left leg, and his other was maybe in between Todoroki’s legs. Not in a scandalous way. Just there. Todoroki’s hands were balled into tight fists clutched to his chest, like he was trying to make himself very small. The problem was more that, in order to reach the control panel, Izuku had had to get past Todoroki’s body, and there had more than definitely been some body-to-body contact.
Immediately Izuku scrambled back, making the water slosh a bit. He sat back down on his side of the Jacuzzi and barked out a placatory laugh. “You can choose which jets you want,” he said, voice only cracking once.
Todoroki watched him for a moment and then nodded. He unfolded and reached over his shoulder, turning on the back jets. Immediately Izuku felt water shooting into his back, and the tub became overrun with bubbles.
At least he couldn’t see Todoroki’s body under the water anymore.
It was starting to get weird again, and Izuku wasn’t going to let that happen. He opened his mouth to speak, but Todoroki beat him to it.
“This is actually pretty nice,” he said, as though nothing had happened. Maybe nothing had happened. Maybe Izuku was just making a big deal out of something that clearly wasn’t, to anyone else.
“Isn’t it?” Izuku said, eager to be talking instead of thinking about Todoroki’s knee in between his own. “My mom and I went skiing in Hakuba once, and the lodge had a hot tub that was sort of like this. It’s kind of weird but you get used to it.”
Todoroki hummed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back a little. Izuku smiled despite himself. Todoroki spent so much of his life on edge that to see him even going through the motions of relaxing made Izuku feel all fuzzy inside.
(Also the fact that Todoroki felt like he could maybe relax when Izuku was there—but that was a thought for a moment when Izuku wasn’t already emotionally compromised.)
“Do you know how to ski?” Todoroki asked after a moment.
Izuku laughed self-consciously and shrugged. “I went down the bunny slope once and got so scared I stayed inside the rest of the time,” he said.
“Ah,” Todoroki replied, opening his eyes and looking up at the ceiling. “I’ve gone a few times. My father wanted me to improve my balance for skating on my own ice. He wouldn’t let me use the beginner slopes until someone who worked there wouldn’t let me on the advanced ones without a test.”
Of course everything had to come back to Todoroki’s father. Izuku grimaced at the water. Skiing seemed like such an innocuous thing, but it seemed like there wasn’t anything Todoroki Enji hadn’t touched somehow.
“Stop that,” Todoroki said. Izuku looked up, surprised. “It’s not a bad memory. Just a neutral one. You don’t need to be outraged on my behalf.”
Izuku nodded, mollified. “Sorry.” He smiled in a self-deprecating way. “Habit.”
Todoroki huffed out a small laugh. “I’m sorry for mentioning my father when I’m supposed to be relaxing.”
“Are you?” Izuku asked. “Relaxing.”
“I hope so,” Todoroki said. “Maybe I’m thinking so hard about it that I’m getting tense about making sure I do.” He had a small smile on his face to show he was trying to lighten the mood.
Izuku laughed, and just like that it was easy again. He let out a breath and let himself sink a little deeper into the water. The bubbles tickled his collarbones. For a moment he tried to relax, himself, and he closed his eyes. It was quiet—the sound of the water jets beat out almost anything else and were a comforting kind of white noise. He smiled to himself involuntarily, a sudden wave of inexplicable happiness washing over him and diffusing in the water. He was warm, the knots were working themselves slowly out of his muscles, and Todoroki was here, and they could just be quiet and enjoy the moment.
He felt his mind starting to drift away, just a little, so he opened his eyes again. Todoroki was watching him with the tiniest smile touching his lips. Izuku’s first instinct was to look away but there was something in Todoroki’s eyes that made it difficult. There was some connection there, not within either of their gazes but between them, two strings meeting in the air and tying together.
He smiled back, just as small. With that Todoroki’s eyes flicked away, down to the water, the smile lingering.
Izuku thought that he could be okay with this. Just this, whatever it was. He didn’t need anything more than what Todoroki had to give, and he could put away the little stir of hope that looked into each interaction like it was a puzzle. He didn’t need to overanalyze what every single look meant, or what every smile hid, as long as he got to have them.
He was still staring, he realized belatedly when Todoroki’s eyes met his again. The ghost of the smile was still there, but only in the edges of his face. Izuku felt a shift in the air, in the string connecting them, like the end was being tugged by some unseen force. Todoroki’s eyes were filled with something strong, an uncertain intensity.
Todoroki’s gaze shifted down, then down again, to the line where the water met Izuku’s skin. Then back up, but not all the way to Izuku’s eyes.
In an instant of whiplash Izuku felt his skin grow hot and he took a breath. Todoroki’s eyes were back on his, and then a flush of realization overtook them and he looked away, to the wall.
What?
Izuku was frozen in the water, wanting nothing more than to look away as well but finding himself unable. There had to be something he was missing, or something he was misinterpreting. Izuku’s brain was barreling straight into the land of rationalization. Todoroki was probably just thinking, and he was staring into space, and it happened to be the space Izuku was occupying.
“We should go to bed soon,” Todoroki said, and wasn’t that just beautiful, a godsend for Izuku’s rationalizing brain. He was just thinking. Thinking about going to bed. Of course. Good. There was the box to fit the situation into, the ends tucking in neatly.
“Yeah,” Izuku said.
A long pause followed, but it felt precarious. Izuku could see Todoroki thinking, his shoulders tight as though he was going to say something. There was thought, then rejection, then perseverance of the thought, and then acceptance, almost bitter. Todoroki let out a slow breath.
After a long moment he spoke. “We should turn the jets off,” he said, voice low.
“Right,” Izuku replied.
“But I don’t remember how.”
Izuku blinked and then flushed lightly. “I can take a look at it,” he said.
Izuku reached for the control panel and turned off the jets behind their backs. The water stilled. He hesitated for a second, his knee on the floor of the Jacuzzi and between Todoroki’s. He wasn’t looking at Todoroki but he could feel eyes on him. His skin felt too hot.
“Is that good?” he asked. Todoroki didn’t answer so he ventured a glance down.
Immediately his throat closed up. Todoroki was staring up at him with an intensity that made Izuku shudder. Izuku kept his cool.
“Hm?” he prompted. He couldn’t look away, and he noticed a bit absently that they were very close. “Good?”
There was movement in the water and then Izuku felt a hand on his waist, not holding him there or pushing him away. Oh god oh god oh god. The rationalizing part of Izuku’s brain jolted unsteadily in to action, whirring away, trying desperately to parse and decode and make sense. There had to be a reason. Izuku found himself unable to move away. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, not with the faint touch of Todoroki’s hand making every nerve in his body feel suddenly raw.
“Yeah,” Todoroki said. There was something in his eyes that Izuku couldn’t exactly place, a look somewhere between fear and determination.
The hand on Izuku’s waist was cooler than the water but its touch left him feeling hot. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice low. It was a different question, searching, leaving a way out.
Todoroki nodded, and his eyes slipped downward. Izuku swallowed, feeling giddy and strange and anxious. “Yeah,” Todoroki repeated, almost inaudibly.
It was too fast and Izuku needed time to think about things, to come up with every contingency, to extrapolate and understand and internalize and this was giving him no time at all. Are you sure mixed with what if I’m still reading this wrong and there is no way, I’m dreaming, I’m asleep and what if I did something, what if I made him think he had to do this, what if—
The first touch of their lips was so light that Izuku was afraid he’d imagined it. He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath through his nose and then their lips met again. A thrill ran down Izuku’s spine and his hands went up to Todoroki’s shoulders to steady himself.
Todoroki’s mouth was so much softer than Izuku could have imagined. At first they didn’t move, just touching and connecting, and then Todoroki’s lips parted ever so slightly. Izuku followed and then they were kissing for real, delicate and slow but solid and moving. Izuku’s brain had decided to give up the ghost and he tried not to overthink.
What could be more of a confirmation than Todoroki’s hands resting on his waist, gripping ever so slightly when Izuku’s lips dragged against his?
Izuku’s hands seemed to have a mind of their own, sliding from Todoroki’s shoulders up to the sides of his neck, his thumbs moving up to tuck just under Todoroki’s ears, and there was no way he could have anticipated the sudden stuttered gasp against his mouth. Todoroki broke the kiss for a moment, and Izuku could feel his chest move.
“Are you okay?” he asked automatically. Todoroki looked up at him and nodded.
“My…um…” he started, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. “Neck.”
Ticklish, Izuku remembered. He nodded slightly and Todoroki looked something like embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said.
“No, I mean…” Todoroki trailed off, and Izuku could feel the skin under his hands heating.
Izuku ran his thumb experimentally along the back of Todoroki’s jaw and down behind his ear, and the sharp intake of air he got as a result sent a jolt of heat down his body.
Todoroki’s eyes closed and he surged forward, catching Izuku’s lips again. The hands on Izuku’s waist tightened, pulling him closer, and their bodies touched. Izuku let out a tiny gasp of his own. Todoroki’s skin was so warm, even through the hot water, and against his own torso it felt hot in a completely different way.
Todoroki’s hands seemed to want to roam, sliding up Izuku’s sides slowly and then back down, Todoroki’s thumbs notching right at the dip of Izuku’s hips. Izuku made a tiny noise into Todoroki’s mouth and he could feel Todoroki’s reaction to it in the swell of a deep breath.
After a moment they broke apart, Izuku feeling dazed and disoriented. He looked down at Todoroki, whose head was all but cradled in his hand, and he felt a strange, unwelcome jolt of anxiety.
“Are you okay?” Todoroki asked after a moment, voice soft and a little gruff. “Is this okay?”
Izuku nodded so fast he thought he might pull a muscle. “Yeah,” he breathed.
“Sorry that…I swear I didn’t plan…” Todoroki tried, looking frustrated at his own ability to string words together. His brow furrowed slightly. His thumb ran absently back and forth on Izuku’s hip and it was only Izuku’s years of training in concentration that kept him present. “You’re sure.”
“Yeah,” Izuku repeated, wondering if that’s all his vocabulary had been reduced to.
Todoroki searched his eyes, and it made Izuku shiver. “Is being like this comfortable?” he asked in a way that said he thought it probably wasn’t.
“Yeah,” Izuku said again, and this time he felt silly about it so he continued, perhaps unnecessarily: “My legs are…I mean, I’m strong…”
Todoroki laughed and Izuku flushed in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “That’s not what I mean,” he said. Izuku was sure he was smiling, but he couldn’t look away from Todoroki’s eyes long enough to check.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Todoroki started, “you could…sit...?”
“Sit?” Izuku asked. “Wh—oh…oh.” If it was possible to get redder, with the heat and their proximity and the way that Todoroki’s thumb wouldn’t stop moving, Izuku was getting there.
Todoroki looked just as embarrassed at having suggested it. They looked at each other for a moment before Izuku coughed out a laugh.
“We’re so awkward,” he said. Todoroki cracked a smile.
“We really are,” he replied. Izuku smiled down at him and felt a surge of some emotion—or maybe a mix of emotions, too dense for him to pick apart each one—wash over him.
“It shouldn’t be, right?”
Todoroki shrugged. “It’s not necessarily bad.”
“No,” Izuku agreed. “It isn’t.”
Then, in a burst of bravery, Izuku moved his knee over Todoroki’s leg, so he was completely straddling Todoroki’s lap. Todoroki took in a sudden breath at the motion, and the thumb on Izuku’s hip stopped moving in favor of digging in.
“Better?” Izuku asked, his voice dropping almost to a whisper.
Todoroki just looked up at him, embarrassment replaced by something that made Izuku’s hair stand on end. It felt natural for Izuku to lean in again, hovering just on the cusp of a kiss for a single, shaky breath before pressing their lips together again.
It was like they’d never stopped kissing. Izuku didn’t exactly have the world’s largest repertoire when it came to things like this, but with Todoroki that didn’t even come into consideration. It was easy and he didn’t have anything to live up to and when he thought about this in an hour he’d absolutely combust but right now all he could think about was getting closer.
Izuku’s thumb moved across the patch of skin below Todoroki’s ear again and it earned him another shiver. In that instant Izuku decided, somewhere in the part of his brain that still worked, that he needed more of that. Not just that—he wanted to hear Todoroki.
He carefully pressed a kiss to the corner of Todoroki’s lips before trailing off along the curve of his jaw. The hands on his waist tightened again. When Izuku reached Todoroki’s earlobe he pressed a tiny kiss, more air than lips, to the hollow right behind Todoroki’s jaw.
The reaction was immediate. Todoroki sucked in a breath and pulled Izuku closer. Izuku’s knees slid on the bottom of the tub and then he couldn’t move any further. They were touching from hip to chest now, and Izuku whined lightly through his nose. Immediately he felt a rush of self-consciousness at the noise, but Todoroki didn’t seem to notice.
Izuku brushed his lips downward, pressing another light kiss to the side of Todoroki’s neck, and then another. The reaction he got was more than worth it—Todoroki took a stuttered breath and his hands roamed across Izuku’s sides and around to his back, pulling him in tightly.
Another kiss, a little longer. Todoroki’s skin was warm and didn’t taste much like anything, but he smelled like shampoo and deodorant and something Izuku couldn’t place besides Todoroki. Another half-caught breath, and the hands on Izuku’s back drifted back down and around and it was so much all at once.
Izuku trailed back up to Todoroki’s ear, pressing his lips to the spot just under his earlobe, and he finally got what he’d been searching for. Todoroki punctuated his gasp with a high noise, involuntary and vulnerable and perfect. What Izuku wasn’t ready for was the accompanying jerk of Todoroki’s hips, cut off like Todoroki had tried to stop it from happening.
But Izuku felt it, right against his hips, and he could feel other things, too. With the water their underwear felt thinner than it would otherwise, and that thought alone sent a jolt all the way down his body. He gasped, right by Todoroki’s ear, and got for that another, more purposeful rocking of Todoroki’s hips against his own.
Izuku hadn’t even noticed himself getting hard, but there he was. There they both were, he thought unhelpfully, just before Todoroki pulled him back up and smashed their lips together. It was harder now, less controlled, less exploring and more wanting.
This was as far as it seemed either of them was willing to go, but it was already so much that Izuku’s brain was frying in his skull. It seemed like Todoroki’s hands were everywhere, like his body was the warmest thing on the planet, like nothing else existed. He was completely wrapped up in the moment, in their lips moving, in the brush of Todoroki’s tongue, in everything.
After a long while they broke apart, Izuku more out of breath than he would admit. They just looked at each other, on the cusp of a kiss but not quite there, and then Izuku smiled. It was a deep smile, one he felt down to his toes. Todoroki smiled back, and then it was finally all too much for Izuku. He giggled lightly and wrapped his arms around Todoroki’s body, resting his forehead on Todoroki’s shoulder and pulling him into a hug. Todoroki’s arms closed around his back and they stayed there.
It was so easy, and there were so many emotions bubbling just below Izuku’s throat—things he wanted to say, things he wanted to hear, things he wanted to do, the fact that he just kind of felt like screaming. Todoroki’s heart was going wild and Izuku could feel it, chest to chest.
After a while Izuku cleared his throat and pulled back. “We should get out,” he said. He wasn’t able to stop smiling.
“We should,” Todoroki agreed.
“We should talk about this,” Izuku said.
“We should.” Todoroki’s eyes momentarily left Izuku’s to trail across the rest of his body, slow and unabashed but not heated. “Not tonight.”
“Not tonight,” Izuku nodded. A thought came to him and he snorted. “I don’t think we can brag to Kaminari and Kirishima.”
“A selective retelling,” Todoroki suggested, and Izuku laughed.
The proximity was hard to resist, and Izuku wasn’t exactly sure who initiated the next kiss. This one was different—light, quick, soft.
“Come on,” Todoroki said against Izuku’s lips. “I’m turning into a prune.”
Izuku wrinkled his nose and extracted himself from Todoroki’s grasp. For a moment he just sat back against his side of the tub, watching Todoroki.
Todoroki quirked an eyebrow and the water started to cool. Izuku’s eyes widened and he scrambled up.
“Fine, fine! I’m getting out!”
In the time it took to dry off and get back into pajamas, Izuku started to think. It wasn’t the good kind of thinking, either. It was second-guessing, wondering (as Todoroki was in the bathroom and thus unable to provide any counterargument) if it was really just a one-time thing, if he’d imagined it all somehow, if Todoroki was actually ever going to want to talk about it.
As Izuku was leaning over to turn off the bedside lamp, as Todoroki was climbing into bed, he felt like he should say something. A clarification, maybe. Somewhere to air out the sudden insecurity that had gripped him.
The light was off and they were in the dark. Izuku opened his mouth, not sure what he was even going to say, and then he felt a nudge at his hand.
Todoroki’s knuckles bumped against his uncertainly. Izuku suppressed a smile and locked his fingers with Todoroki’s, and suddenly he didn’t need to say anything, anymore.
The “bug,” as it turned out, was the TV remote for their room, taped to the bottom of the table by one half of the last couple who’d stayed in the room so she could get some sleep. Aizawa made sure to mention it off-hand, and Kaminari and Kirishima wouldn’t let up about it for the rest of the field trip.