Archive of Our Own

Shouto’s life had turned into directions he hadn’t expected. Graduating U.A. wasn’t the unexpected part. His father always had told him he would graduate from the best hero school in Japan, and after that, start his pro-hero career. He was barely eighteen when he graduated from U.A., and the thing was, he wasn’t ready to pursue a career as a pro-hero. Not quite yet, despite that according to his father, many hero agencies would love to employee him. Instead, he had signed up for college.

It hadn’t been his idea per se. Yamada dropped the question when Shouto was staying over for dinner, nothing unusual, really. Then, Yamada—part-time pro hero, DJ and teacher—had suggested his own (adopted) son, Shinsou Hitoshi, to go to college. To Shouto’s surprise—he always imagined himself immediately joining a hero agency once he graduated—found logic in Yamada’s reasoning. While the ‘have some fun’ didn’t necessarily apply to Shouto, he liked the idea of securing a future. Being a hero was a dangerous job. It paid well, but if Shouto got out of commission before his fifties, he couldn’t live on just his savings. Having a degree in something would help him find a job if he ever needed one.

“Father isn’t happy,” Fuyumi, his sister, said after Shouto’s graduation ceremony. “He had wanted you to join a hero agency, preferably his.”

They weren’t words he hadn’t heard before, and he knew that Fuyumi wasn’t trying to convince him. His father most likely had requested (see demanded) her to try to talk some sense into Shouto.

“I know, but I think it’s good, to be seen as just me and not my father’s son.”

Fuyumi smiled, “I know, and I’m proud of you. Though I still question your choice of study.”

“It’s challenging,” Shouto admitted. “And it would be useful for future hero work. Offers me international appeal.”

“Still, English literature?”

Shouto shrugged, “are you really surprised?”

He knew that Fuyumi was glancing at Yamada—his old English teacher—and his husband, Aizawa (Shouto’s old homeroom teacher) and their son Shinso. Shinso was also a friend of Shouto, though more by circumstances than Shouto actually being social. Still, he treasured their friendship a lot.

“Not really,” Fuyumi sighed deeply. “I can’t believe it, you’re growing up so fast!”

Despite still being a tad uncomfortable with a lot of physical contact, he let Fuyumi hug him.

“Both me and Natsuo are behind you, and so is mum. Shouldn’t you catch up with your friends though?”

She looked a little tearful as she ushered Shouto to where Shinso was. By now, he saw his other friend Iida Tenya catch up with Yamada. It would’ve been weird for a student to talk so casually with a teacher, but Shouto had gotten used to it. After all, both Yamada and Aizawa were friends with Tenya’s brother Tensei. They were his uncles, only not by blood.

Wishing his sister goodbye, Shouto walked over to his friends.

“Well done Shouto!” Tenya said, patting Shouto on the shoulder.

By now he had gotten used to it and just rolled with the punches.

Hitoshi nodded, agreeing with Tenya. It never stopped being weird how in sync the two were, or Hitoshi was just too lazy to repeat the same words, which Shouto got. He didn’t like to talk all that much.

It was almost weird to believe that three years had passed, that he had been friends with these two for over two years.

As Hitoshi and Tenya caught up—as far as that was possible as they knew everything about each other—Yamada pulled him in for a conversation.

“Ready to go to college?” Yamada asked, ruffling Shouto’s hair. It didn’t even fully register with him, he was used to it by now and protesting would only get Yamada more determined.

“Not really,” Shouto shrugged. “But Kendo and Momo will be there too, so I will know at least two people.”

Yamada let out a loud laugh, “honestly, I wasn’t ready either. I spent two years abroad, and I entered the plane feeling terrified and not ready.”

“I’m not going abroad.” Shouto pointed out. He would live a few hours away from home, so if he really wanted to, he could go back.

Yamada sighed fondly.

Shouto noticed the shift in body language and mentally prepared himself. As the Aizawa-Yamada household has been his second home for about two-and-a-half year, he had gotten used to Yamada and Aizawa. By now, he exactly knew when Yamada wanted to hug someone.

He shot Aizawa a pleading look as Yamada pulled him in the expected a hug. Aizawa didn’t help him out, he even opted to haul in another conversation partner. And Aizawa didn’t like to talk with people.

~*~

College had been an interesting experience.

The four years of college he had done had taught him more about himself than the previous eighteen years had done. He had grown out his hair, mostly out of laziness, but also because he got compliments. He always has been told he was pretty, but he never felt like it with his scarred left eye. But the hair, it was a thing he could control himself. It also satisfied him knowing that his father would disapprove.

Not that all the compliments had changed his college experience much. He had grown closer to Momo and Kendo—by now they had moved on to the first-name base, which meant she was no called Itsuka. He wasn’t sure if he would have passed college if it weren’t for them. Both were brilliant, hard-working and helped Shouto get over his first and only relationship. College helped him realise he was gay, and that he should be very sceptical about who he dated. The last guy he went out with mostly like him for his name, and the connection he had with Endeavor, one of Japan’s most popular pro-heroes.

However, despite enjoying the experience, he was happy to be back home. To see familiar faces, to speak to the people he genuinely missed, and to see people who genuinely cared about him. Especially as he hadn’t seen some in ages, as all of them had busy schedules and he only returned during the longer breaks. He hadn’t seen Ochako and Tsuyu—two of his favourite classmates from U.A.—since the summer.

~*~

“You want to dye your hair?” Yamada asked, doing a poor job at hiding his surprise.

Admittedly, he would’ve been surprised to a handful of years ago. But he had thought it through, and talked with Itsuka and Momo about it. He wanted to return to the hero scene, but he wanted to be unrecognisable. No ‘son of Endeavor’ anymore. His red and white hair was very noticeable and would get him recognised in minutes. As only a few had seen him with long hair, dyeing it would make him look like an entirely different person.

“Yes. Hair is also part of your hero image, right?”

Yamada nodded, somehow mercifully not further questioning Shouto, or his choice of colour.

“I’ve never dyed someone’s hair before,” Yamada said, but he still grabbed the stuff Shouto bought and started to read the boxes.

“You’re going for,” Yamada squinted at the box. “Red?”

Shouto felt his cheeks warm up, “no, Itsuka suggested blush pink and I didn’t know what else would work.

The nice thing about Yamada was that he didn’t question Shouto’s choice to go blush pink. He just popped open one of the bottles, told Shouto to sit on the edge of the bath and started to follow the instructions. Shouto only hoped that Yamada wouldn’t ruin his hair. Though it was just hair, it could grow back.

~*~

T. Shouto: *sends image*
T. Shouto I did it. It’s pink now. No going back.

Y. Momo: It looks good on you, it’s a really pretty colour.
Y. Momo: Who did it for you? Or did you do it yourself?
Y. Momo: Also, Itsuka, good job! The colour is wonderful!

K. Itsuka: Thanks Momo!

T. Shouto: Yamada did. I assumed he would ask the fewest questions.

K. Itsuka: Yamada? As in our old English teacher?

Y. Momo: Yup!

T. Shouto: Yes.

K. Itsuka: You stayed in contact with our teachers?

T. Shouto: Only Aizawa and Yamada. They’re like parental figures towards me.

K. Itsuka: That’s so cool!
K. Itsuka: Vlad never wanted us to see him a parental figure
K. Itsuka: Not that his wish was ever granted

Y. Momo: Becoming a teacher is like signing a contract to adopt 20 children.

K. Itsuka: I will pass on becoming a teacher.
Y. Momo: Me too.

T. Shouto: No

~*~

U. Ochako: TODOROKI SHOUTO, CAN I HAVE YOUR HAIR?

T. Shouto: Why?

U. Ochako: Because it’s so pretty <3 <3 <3
U. Ochako: That pink colour looks so good on you.

T. Shouto: You can dye your hair; you know?

U. Ochako: You don’t understand.
U. Ochako: I recently got a haircut because my hair got singed.
U. Ochako: So it’s short again. But not only that, but your hair is just beautiful!?!
U. Ochako: Like, I think you have prettier hair than most girls I know.
U. Ochako: Most girls would kill for your hair.

T. Shouto: I don’t want to be killed. If a woman held me at knife-point, demanding my hair, she would get it.
T. Shouto: Though there are better things to kill for. Like getting rid of abusive parents.

U. Ochako: Oh honey.
U. Ochako: Nobody would actually hold you at knife-point to get your hair.
U. Ochako: And, well, that’s where heroes are for. To make the world a better place!
U. Ochako: Can’t wait for your debut. People will go crazy.

~*~

“Why do you have pink hair?”

“Why don’t you have pink hair?”

Hitoshi sighed and shrugged in defeat, “it’s just, pink is a feminine colour.”

“You have purple hair. Purple is also a feminine colour.”

“Everyone can have whatever hair-colour they want,” Aizawa said. He sounded tired of their bickering—were they even bickering? “Now. You’re both adults, you’ve to earn your stay. Help me in the kitchen.”

“Fine,” Hitoshi muttered but didn’t protest beyond that. It was weird to be back to his second home, to spend dinner together with Aizawa, Yamada and whoever came over (in this case Hitoshi and Tenya—Tenya was only running a little bit late).

Not quite experienced in the kitchen, Shouto was stuck keeping an eye on the boiling water and making sure the rice wouldn’t overboil while Hitoshi was actually allowed to cut food.

~*~

Shouto knew that many people would be questioning his choice, to distant himself entirely from his father. His father already had the name and a pretty good reputation. But this was like his last act of defiance. He was just Shouto, a new, upcoming hero.

“Most people use their normal name on their hero licence, however,” the lady shuffled through the papers on her desk. “You requested to use another surname and a different family link. We went through the paperwork you handed in, and we contacted your requested person and—”

She pushed a sheet of paper in front of him. “He signed the papers, which mean that you’re legally allowed to make him your medical proxy and that you’re legally allowed to use his surname.”

“You’re a lucky guy,” she added, smiling for the first time since Shouto had sat down to get everything arranged. For an entire hour, she had looked like she was swallowing lemons. “To have someone out there who cares a lot about you. How does it feel, to be called Yamada Shouto?”

“Weird.”

The lady laughed. “I can feel that. The guy rarely changes his surname, even though marriage. I needed some time to adjust when I got married and changed my own surname—it felt weird to be addressed by my husband’s surname instead of my own.”

Shouto forced an awkward smile on his face, “thank you, I will get used to it, hopefully.”

“Well, Mr Yamada, if you sign these papers,” several papers were pushed in front of him. “You can officially use the name, and you can officially do hero work.”

~*~

“Good job,” the hero Chargebolt—which he immediately recognised as Kaminari—said, throwing a wink his way. “I wish my debut was as smooth as yours.”

“I had more time to prepare,” Shouto answered, wincing as one of the medics was bandaging his arm.

Kaminari threw him a flirty look, “still, you have a great debut. So, I have a question for you, are you free this evening?”

Shouto let out a startled noise, “you’re asking me out on a date?”

To his surprise, Kaminari nodded.

“You’re bi?”

He realised it was a bit rude to ask, but Shouto was surprised. Very few people ever bothered to flirt with him, not to mention straight out asking him out. He didn’t even know Kaminari was bisexual, but in an afterthought, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Kaminari always had been comfortable with both boys and girls—Shouto had just been blind to the possibilities of not being straight.

“I felt silly for limiting myself to just women,” Kaminari said. “And it isn’t hard to not be attracted to 90% of the pro-heroes. So many gorgeous men, just like yourself.”

Honestly, he wasn’t sure whenever he wanted to cry or laugh. This was so weird, and he wasn’t even sure if Kaminari realised who he was. Probably not.

The medical staff gave them the clear and Kaminari lead them to someplace more private, which suited Shouto just fine. Now he could safely talk and not fear that people would know his secret identity of the bat.

“Do you even know who I’m?” Shouto asked.

Kaminari shrugged, “not really, but that’s where the date comes in.”

“Kaminari, you know me.”

“I do?”

Shouto removed his mask, pocketing it.

Realisation dawned upon Kaminari.

“Holy shit, Todoroki?” Kaminari asked. He looked gobsmacked.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Talking about a huge glow-up.” Kaminari was still staring at him, taking him in. Did he really get this big of a glow-up? “I didn’t even recognise you. So you’ve decided to go for Lukewarm, huh. Why?”

Shouto took an escaped strand of blush pink hair between his fingers. “Not hot, not cold, lukewarm. It was Momo’s idea.”

Kaminari nodded.

“The offer for the date is still standing though,” Kaminari said.

He wasn’t particularly interested in Kaminari romantically, and Kaminari had completely dropped the flirting once he realised who he was. So the date didn’t have to be romantic per se.

“Can I bring someone along?” he asked.

“Sure.”

~*~

T. Shouto: I got asked out on a date.

T. Shouto: And I asked if I could bring someone along. He said yes.

T. Shouto: So would you like to come along?

U. Ochako: Your first day of hero work and you already got a date!

U. Ochako: I’m so jealous. You want me to be your wingwoman?

T. Shouto: Sort of? I’m not interested in him, but it’s nice to spend a night away.

U. Ochako: Ooooh, so it’s more a casual outing?
U. Ochako: Anyway, count me in! I haven’t been out on a date in ages!

~*~

The moment they entered the restaurant, Ochako had spotted Kaminari, and Kaminari seemed to completely light up seeing her. Shouto felt like he had missed the budding friendship between the two of them when he had been away.

“Ochako!”

“Denki!”

The two fell into a hug, making a lot of commotion in the otherwise calm restaurant. It took a long minute for Shouto to recognise Kaminari’s wingman. Sero now had an undercut and looked a lot older. He had bulked up, and several scars weren’t there before. Only now he realised that his classmates have changed a lot in the last four years and that he had missed out more than just Ochako and Kaminari’s growing friendship.

“Todoroki?” Sero questioned in greeting, offering him a half-wave motion.

“Shouto is fine,” Shouto said, stepping into Sero’s personal space and half-hugged him. He had gotten better at these things, though he still thought hugging was a bit awkward.

Sero got the memo though and returned the hug. Sero was a pretty good hugger.

“Jesus, Todo—Shouto. I thought Denki was joking when he said you had a glow-up,” Sero admitted. “But you look good. Probably struggling to keep away the ladies. Any advice?”

Shouto sat down on one of the chairs and Sero sat down back in his own chair. He was glad he wouldn’t be doing the awkward mid-standing dance with Sero.

“Not really. I send most ladies to Momo and Itsuka, they appreciate them way more than I.”

“Knew it that you were into blokes,” Sero said, his face had lit up. “I mean, I always guessed, because you mostly were friends with girls.”

“He still is,” Ochako giggled, pulling Sero up and hugging him. “Long time no see, Hanta. Missed you.”

“Missed you too. I only see Denki a lot, and that’s because we’re roommates.”

Kaminari sat down next to him, while Ochako took the seat next to Sero. It almost felt date-like, but Kaminari didn’t bother to throw an arm around his chair or nudge their legs together. Instead, he propped his elbows on the table and offered Sero and Ochako all of his attention.

“You know what they say about roommates,” Kaminari said, throwing a wink towards Sero.

Shouto missed several minutes of the conversation to progress it. Kaminari was flirting with Sero, which wasn’t necessarily odd, but it was the only one who he flirted with. He and Ochako got along like a house on fire, but it didn’t feel romantic. Not that he exactly knew what romantic chemistry was, he based his knowledge on Yamada and Aizawa, and a little bit on Tenya and Hitoshi. He wasn’t sure what their relationship status was. And it wasn’t like Kaminari wasn’t in any way or form cosying up with him.

“What do you think, Shouto?” Ochako asked, causing him to jump a little.

He should have been paying attention.

“What did you ask?” he asked, feeling a little flustered.

Ochako giggled, “Knew that you weren’t paying attention, your eyes were glazed over.”

Now both Kaminari and Sero were laughing, though it didn’t feel mean-spirited.

“What do you want to eat?” Ochako asked. “I mean; they will kick us out if we don’t order anything. Also, I’m starving!”

“Uhm, whatever you get,” Shouto said. This was the fastest way out the situation, he hadn’t even bothered to look at the menu yet.

Kaminari patted him on the back in comfort, not that there was any comfort in his smile. There was just amusement.

“You don’t go out often, do you?”

Shouto shook his head. In college, he spent most of his time staying in the dorms, and if he went out, he was in the presence of either Itsuka or Momo, who both knew how underwhelming bad he was at social outings.

“We just have to change that,” Sero said. “I mean, I like Denki plenty, but it’s nice to have different company.”

“Same!” Ochako shouted, earning her a few glares. “I mean, I haven’t been out in ages. Everyone is just too busy with hero work.”

“You have been out for two years,” Kaminari laughed. “We don’t do bi-erasure. I need my fellow bisexuals in my life.”

“Itsuka is bisexual,” Shouto pipped in.

Both Sero and Kaminari looked confused.

“You mentioned her before,” Sero said. “But I’m not sure if I know who she is.”

“Kendo? Class president from class B? We went to the same college.”

“Oooh,” Kaminari and Sero said at the same time.

“You were so lucky. You went to college with two of the brightest women in our year,” Sero said, sounding a little jealous. “I would have loved to be in your place.”

“Second that,” Kaminari chimed.

“Make that three,” Ochako said. “I mean, I’m happy to skip college, but I wouldn’t have minded seeing Itsuka and Momo on a daily base. I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“I think we need a reunion. I haven’t seen some people in years.”

Sero’s idea was met with enthusiasm, and Shouto finally felt comfortable taking part in the conversation. A meet-up would be great, he missed some of his classmates dearly. He recently saw Hitoshi and Tenya, and that’s because they are almost like his second family. He saw Ochako sometimes, as she lived close-by. Only Tsuyu, he hadn’t seen in a while, as she was currently away for some marine-work. The rest of his classmates he hadn’t seen in years, Kaminari and Sero included. Well, up to today.

“Are you guys ready to order?” a waitress asked, looking a little annoyed with them. Shouto realised they were pretty loud.

They all give their orders, Ochako ordering the same for Shouto as she did for herself, and the waitress excused herself, looking a little less annoyed. At least they were ordering something and not just causing a ruckus.

This was going to be an interesting evening.

~*~

Plan ‘Weekly class reunions’ was neither a disaster nor a success story. The main crew existed out of Kaminari, Sero and Ochako—and they liked to drag Shouto into their planning. Their first week was only partially successful. Sero and Ochako were absent as work was still a priority. But instead, Momo and Tsuyu showed up. While he had seen Momo plenty, it was nice to see Tsuyu again. Week two wasn’t much better, it had been just him, Sero and Ashido. It had been an experience, as Sero and Ashido got along like a house on fire. He imagined what it would be like if Ochako, Ashido, Sero and Kaminari were in the same room. It probably would result in the destruction of the building they were in.

Week three, tonight, was a success. There was Hagakure, Ashido, Sero, Denki, Ochako, Tsuyu and him. Seven people, an all-time record (which was a little ridiculous as they only tried three times). Recalling the events, Shouto realised that he was the only one who had perfect attendance. Most likely, it meant that he was the one who lacked a proper social life.

Tonight, they had hit the pub, not that the alcohol was really flowing. They were all pro-heroes, most of them had to stick to a semi-strict diet. Alcohol, drugs and smoking were a definite no-go. Not that there was no alcohol consumption, but it was in controlled measures. For example, Shouto only had one bright pink cocktail that Ashido had picked for him. It had been a bit too sweet for his taste, but on the other hand, it was easier to drown than beer.

While the night had been fun, Shouto regretted attending a little. It was a Wednesday—technically it was already Thursday—and everyone had work in the morning. They might not be smashed and would get a hangover, but there would be some level of sleep deprivation.

As he walked home, Shouto spent most of his time staring into the distance. Despite that he was in the middle of the city, Shouto saw some stars peeking through the clouds, shining alongside the moon. The season and temperature didn’t quite match, the weather too mild for the summer. He didn’t mind. While perfectly fine with the heat, it was nice that his quirk didn’t have to overwork. He was almost tempted to lie down somewhere and look at the stars. Though, this might be the cocktail talking. He knew that the brighter and the fruiter the drink, the more alcohol it usually contained.

Shaking off the urge to do something silly, like fall asleep on a park bench, Shouto took a detour towards his apartment, avoiding the park entirely. Out of sight, out of mind, hopefully.

Shouto was only a couple of blocks away when he spotted the first form of life since leaving the bar. The person was walking a little hunched, backpack slung on one shoulder and steadily pressed against their side. Looking at their built, Shouto guessed it was a male or a bigger female. Gender aside, Shouto concluded that the person was pretty shifty and nervous. He acted suspicious, as if hiding something (he might, he held his backpack very close to him).

Figuring he was carrying his hero-licence, so it was legal for him to take action if necessary, Shouto sped up his walk. He was as quiet as a cat, not wanting to scare the stranger. Maybe it was just a college kid with a shitty job. Though his scared nature was a bit puzzling.

Finally caught up with the guy, Shouto hesitated what his approach should be. Talk? Or tap him on the shoulder? Maybe both?

Shouto tapped the maybe-student on the shoulder. “Hey, are you—”

The guy—definitely a guy, there were traces of stubble on his chin—twirled around and the last thing Shouto saw frightened green eyes. Than a left-hook knocked him down. Seconds before crashing headfirst into the pavement—which would successfully knock him out—he realised that this was the most uncool way to be captured by a villain. One straight left-hook and Shouto’s reputation was in shambles. He should have used his quirk. It was a good left-hook though, Aizawa would be proud.

~*~

Shouto woke up realising two things. Firstly, he was decked by a stranger, and secondly, said stranger probably wasn’t a criminal. He woke up with a headache, but he was lying on something soft, and there was a blanket draped over him. The room smelled like coffee, and neither his wrists or feet were tied. Maybe it had all been a dream? Though he had no roommate, so there shouldn’t be the smell of coffee.

Minding his throbbing head, Shouto pushed himself up onto his elbows. The living room he woke up in was small but cosy. There were pictures propped up on a dresser, but it was too far away to make out the details. Though, he could see that they were real and not ones randomly picked from the internet. The rest of the room screamed student, textbooks, papers, pens, empty cups of coffee, clothes, snack-wrappers and even an empty cup of noodles. Shouto should know this, as his own dorm room once looked like this.

Looking for his phone, Shouto realised that his bag was put down next to him. It was open, and the stranger obviously had rummaged through it. He felt a little sick when he saw his wallet lying on top. Did this guy rob him?

Picking up the wallet, Shouto checked the content. By the looks of it, all his stuff was still there. Actually, the only thing that was off was his hero licence, who was put back upside down.

He had been too absorbed into checking his stuff—which all seemed to be there—to notice the noise to shift from the kitchen to the living room. Shouto was ashamed that as a hero, he had been snuck up on. Thankfully, the guy was either not a villain or a lousy one.

“Please don’t arrest me!”

Shouto looked up, catching the gaze of the stranger. He hated how his breath hitched, though the stranger probably didn’t notice. The stranger was too busy spluttering, all arm movements and coloured cheeks. He was cute. The guy had a mop of green curls, sun-kissed skin, vibrant green eyes and freckles splattered all over his face. The stubble Shouto previously had seen was gone. He wore a pair of worn grey sweatpants and a pink sweater, which Shouto recognised as official Uravity merchandise. He just looked soft, and apparently, soft was Shouto’s type.

“Wait, arrest you?” Shouto asked.

The guy fidgeted, fingers clamped tightly around a chipped mug. Ah, the coffee smell.

The stranger started to mutter at a speed that made Yamada almost speak slowly. However, Shouto got the general gist. He had knocked a pro-hero to the ground, and he expected to be at least charged for assault. There was a lot of mumbling, but Shouto’s headache wasn’t in the mood to figure it all out.

Holding his hand up, he waited for the mumbling to cease. The guy flushed red, his hands were trembling.

“It’s self-defence,” Shouto said, trying to recall the big book of rules. “You saw me as a danger, so you defended yourself. Considering you only hit me once, it stays as just self-defence.”

As if Shouto had punctured a balloon, the guy deflated in relief, “I thought I was seriously going to get arrested.”

If he had been as smooth as Kaminari, he probably would have thrown in a flirty retort. But Shouto was awkward, so he just managed to smile a little.

“It was nice hook though,” Shouto said, rubbing his right temple. “Didn’t saw it coming.”

The guy grew even redder. “Thank you. I never actually hit someone before, at least not outside self-defence classes.”

Shouto managed to genuinely smile through the pain. He was adorable.

Both of them jumped at the loud beeping of Shouto’s phone. Only when Shouto’s headache returned to a light throb, he realised that it was his alarm. The mug with coffee crashed on the floor, spitting ceramic and coffee everywhere. The guy yelped, jumping back.

As his host was currently petrified from shock, Shouto let his hero-instinct do the doing. Turning off his alarm, Shouto grabbed the first-aid-kit from his bag and dropped it on the coffee table. Wondering how he safety could walk through the glass, Shouto spotted a pair of slippers. Slipping into them, he walked over to his still petrified host.

“Are you hurt?” Shouto asked, gently waving his hand in front of his face.

The movement was stiff, but he shook his head.

“That might be adrenaline talking, let me check on you.”

He was surprised when the guy complied, letting Shouto actually pick him up. Their height difference was useful in the situation, though the guy wasn’t exactly light. Shouto realised he packed some muscles underneath that sweatshirt.

The guy slouched on the couch with an oof, cementing the proof that this guy was too soft for this world.

Inspecting the guy’s hands first, he concluded they seemed to be fine. There were several scars on them, which Shouto unconsciously traced. He didn’t look like a hero—or at least an official hero. Looking at the textbooks covered across the living room, Shouto suspected he was a medical student.

It seemed that the guy finally got out of his stupor, withdrawing his hands from Shouto’s hold, clenching them. There was a slight tremble in them, “they’re ugly, aren’t they?”

“Barely.” Shouto reached out to touch his own scar but realised it was still covered with foundation. It helped with keeping his identity a secret, and considering he was knocked out before starting his evening routine, he didn’t have the time to wipe it off. “All heroes have scars.”

“But I’m not a hero,” the guy said, bitterness in his voice.

“You’re studying to become a medic,” Shouto said, gesturing to the textbooks. “Those guys are heroes in their own way.”

While the guy was smiling again, wobbly but still, Shouto checked the guy’s feet for any injuries. As he was barefooted, a few of the shards had scratched his feet, and there were spots of red, from the hot coffee most likely. The cuts could be cleaned later, right now, he had to treat the burn marks. Not giving the guy a chance to protest, Shouto once again picked him up.

The guy clearly wasn’t happy, as he yelped and was growing a brilliant shade of red, “do you always pick up people without asking?”

Shouto shrugged, “we need to hold your feet under a steady stream of water. Where is your bathroom?”

He had been told that he would be a terrible nurse. He knew his first-aid theoretically, and he could perform them as well. He could even sew up a wound if necessary. But his bedsides manners were terrible. He had no time to coddle his patients, they needed medical help. Reassurance would come later.

“I know that. Standard procedure for burn-wounds. The bathroom is the first door on the left,” the guy he gestured to the general direction of where the bathroom should be.

“Glad you know that,” Shouto said deadpanned, tiptoeing through the amount of trash while having a heavy guy lying in his arms. “I would have worried if a medical student didn’t know that.”

Shouto was relieved to see that the guy actually had a spine and didn’t mumble and stumble all the time, “you’re a real charmer, aren’t you?”

Entering the bathroom, Shouto looked around to see what he could work with. There was a bath. Small, but it worked.

“Just keep your feet under a steady stream of water,” Shouto said, carefully lowering the student on the edge of the bath.

His host (Shouto really had to give him a name) sighed deeply, turning on the tap and sticking his foot underneath the cold stream of water.

“Thanks, could’ve walked on my own though.”

Embarrassment flooded Shouto’s system. Of course, the guy could’ve walked here. The only reason Shouto had carried him to the couch in the first place was that 1) he was in shock and 2) he was barefooted and risked stepping into the sharp glass. But as he wasn’t majorly injured, and had overcome the initial shock, he would have been perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

“I’ll be cleaning up the glass,” Shouto said, leaving the guy to his own device. While the guy didn’t seem to be mean spirited, Shouto had no desire to embarrass himself even further.

Usually, when he was in his hero getup, people were so much more forgiving. After all, he was just being a hero, carrying people to safety was a logical thing to do. It wasn’t embarrassing. But Shouto right now wasn’t a hero, he was a civilian as much as the next guy, and civilians didn’t carry around strangers or do so without asking. The guy should be claiming charges against him for possible harassment, not the other way around.

~*~

“You look like death warmed over,” Kaminari remarked the moment Shouto entered the office. “You didn’t drink that much, did you?”

Shouto shook his head, dropping his bag next to his workplace. His head was still throbbing, the bruise had grown to an ugly shade of blue. The only good part was that his hair hid most of it, if not all. Kaminari hadn’t asked after it so it must have worked.

“Than what did happen?”

Shouto told him about the guy he met, though he left his gay thoughts. Not that there was much to tell. He still had no name. Though it was unlikely they met ever again. The moment Shouto had cleaned up the coffee-stains and the glass shards, he had left a thank-you note, a notice that he wouldn’t be charged for violence in any way or form, and that he had to get running to be in time for work.

“He probably he was embarrassed,” Kaminari said. “I mean; I would be too if a handsome guy would sweep me off my feet.”

“It wasn’t even romantic.”

Kaminari shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. But you didn’t get his number?”

“I don’t even have a name. I only know he is a medical student.”

“Such a shame.” Kaminari shot an empty pen towards the trash can, missing it by miles. “I mean; how often do you meet a cute guy?”

Shouto froze, realising that Kaminari had noticed the obvious interest. The word ‘rarely’ died on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t as subtle as he believed to be.

~*~

In theory, Shouto was known that this could happen. Not that he was thinking about that in this particular moment, it was more of an afterthought. Right now, he was buried under tonnes of stone, it was dark, dusty and hard to breathe. Getting out was close to impossible. If necessary, he could just use his ice power to push away the stone. But that would be a danger for the rest of the disaster site, as he would be spraying rocks everywhere, possibly killing others. And the saddest part was that he was off-duty. He just had sprung in when he stumbled upon a battle, realising the heroes were very outnumbered. He wasn’t even in full battle-gear. He liked this pair of jeans.

Lying flat on the on his back, Shouto fumbled with his phone to active the torch function. He could use his fire to create light, but he rather did not. He still wasn’t fond of his fire-power and preferred to not use it. And he didn’t know if there were any gas leaks. Blowing himself up wasn’t on his to-do list.

Putting his focus on the outside noises and not his thoughts, he noticed that there was some distant noise of rolling rocks and a voice calling out a name. His name.

“Shouto?” Ochako’s voice was so far, far away.

“Here!” Shouto waved around his phone, hoping that they would pick up on the light.

It took a while, but eventually, the debris started to float, light filtered between the gaps that slowly started to form.

“Are you injured?” A voice asked, probably the medic that had arrived on the scene.

“Probably not.” Shouto tested his limbs, wincing as his ankle throbbed. “Ankle,” he said between gritted teeth. Probably fractured by the rubble falling on it. Now he had to seek out a hospital to fix him up. Otherwise, he would be out of commission for weeks.

By now the rubble was floating high above him, looking slightly omniums. Ochako’s quirk was scarier than people realised.

Strong arms linked themselves under Shouto’s armpits, hauling him from the spot where he previously had been buried. Honestly, this guy probably packed more muscles than Shouto did, and it was a bit sad. After all, he was the pro-hero, the guy was just a field medic (though there was nothing easy about becoming a field medic. It was physically and mentally difficult, and you had to go to college).

Letting the medic manhandle him into a seating position, Shouto finally got the first glimpse of him. The most noticeable thing about the man was the mop of dust-covered green curls, and then the bright green eyes, the freckles, the tan. Is this seriously how they would meet again?

The guy didn’t show a sign of recognition, instead of tackling Shouto’s fractured ankle. At least he assumed it was fractured. Worst case scenario, it was broken.

“How is your foot doing?” Shouto asked, attempting some kind of small-talk. He sucked at small-talk.

To his surprise, the medic grew a little flustered, fingers toying with a small piece of the bandage. “Ah, yeah, my foot is fine. It wasn’t anything bad…” he paused. “I’m surprised you recognise me. I thought you’ve all forgotten about me, seeing as you left so soon.”

Admittedly, Shouto was terrible with remembering faces, but this guy had a face that was hard to forget (too many gay thoughts, damn it).

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

It wasn’t a lie, but not the full extent of the truth why he had fled the scene. Not that he would ever tell this guy.

“Honestly, I’m happy I wasn’t arrested.” Fingers brushed against his temple, making him wince a little. It was still slightly bruised. It wasn’t that bad anymore, but it wasn’t pleasant. “It’s healing well, thankfully. I would’ve cursed myself if I actually put a pro-hero out of commission.”

“I thought medics weren’t supposed to harm people, including themselves,” Shouto deadpanned.

“I’m technically not a medic yet,” the medic said. “I finished college last year, and now I’m interning as a field medic. If this year goes well, I will get a licence and all. Then I’m officially not allowed to harm people.”

Based on that, he was around Shouto’s age (why was his brain like that?).

“Um, Uravity called you Shouto,” the medic said, trying to keep the small talk going. Shouto was surprised that the guy hasn't abandoned him yet. “Is that your hero name, or civilian name?”

“Civilian. Me and Uravity know each other outside work.” Shouto answered.

He was a little confused, as he remembers that the guy must have seen his hero license. Or, he had just seen the license and had stuffed it back before even reading it. It wasn’t every day that you knocked out a pro-hero.

The medic’s eyes grew bright in excitement. “Really? She is such a cool hero! I’m a huge fan—though I’m a huge fan of many heroes. Probably even you,” he added, face red with embarrassment.

“I knew that. You were wearing her merch when we met, remember?”

“You noticed?”

Shouto realised he was busy talking himself into a corner. He basically had admitted he had checked this guy out, which was partially hero training, partially his interest talking.

“I had to figure out whenever you were a threat or not,” Shouto answered, which wasn’t even a lie.

He wasn’t sure whenever he had imagined the disappointment or not.

“I realised I never introduced myself. I’m Midoriya Izuku.”

Matching a name to the face was nice.

“Yamada Shouto, but Shouto is fine,” he said, feeling odd to introduce himself with a different surname. But he also liked that there was no spark of recognition in Midoriya’s eyes. There was no association with his father whatsoever. Midoriya just shook his hand and smiled brightly at him.

~*~

“I hate the summer,” Midoriya moaned, slouching on the park bench.

Shouto wondered why Midoriya had suggested they would go on a walk when he thought it was too so hot. Admittedly, he still wondered why Midoriya wanted to hang out with him (and how he got Shouto’s phone numbers in the first place).

Shouto had suggested that they could stay in the shop, which would’ve been open for another hour. The shop had a perfectly working A/C, and they wouldn’t have been the only people there. Admittedly, he didn’t understand Midoriya very well in the first place. Why would he want to contact Shouto after what had happened? Their first meeting was memorable, but not a great start and their second meeting was Midoriya pulling Shouto from the rubble and patching him up.

Sitting down next to Midoriya, Shouto tried to figure out what was a proper response. Agree? Comment on it? Ignore it? He settled for honesty, which he had grown to prefer. His friends either liked him for who he was or not at all.

“It’s not that bad,” Todoroki said, hoping that he sounded comforting. “I’m used to worse heat.”

Midoriya looked up at him with sympathetic eyes, “you’re used to worse than this? How?”

It took him a few seconds to realise that he hadn’t told Midoriya anything about his family—at least, not his actual family. If he talked about his family, he talked about his second family. While not related in any way or form, not even on paper, they were the closest thing Shouto had to a real family, two parents who cared, two siblings (for Shouto, Tenya and Hitoshi were sibling-like-friends, though he doubted either of them saw the other as a brother) who took no shit from him. Of course, there was still his mother, Fuyumi and Natsuo, but he rarely saw them. It didn’t help that Natsuo didn’t live close-by anymore, and Fuyumi was busy. His mother—he still had to gather the courage to see her, instead of occasionally sending her a letter.

To avoid talking about his good for nothing old man, Shouto just shrugged. It was a lacklustre response, but Midoriya rolled with it. They hadn’t seen each other face-to-face since the disaster that was their second meeting, they had texted a lot. Shouto had the feeling that Midoriya could read him surprisingly well.

Midoriya pushed the mop of curls from his neck, sweat glistening on his fingers. Shouto felt blessed with his quirk, as his ice-side kept him nice and cool.

An idea popped up in his head.

Without asking, Shouto wasn’t much for asking things, he pressed his right hand against Midoriya’s neck.

Midoriya let out a squeak, flinching. “That’s cold,” he said, voice shaking a little. “How? It’s, like, thirty degrees.”

“It’s my quirk.”

Immediately, a steady stream of muttering followed. Shouto had seen him do that before, and sometimes, even in text, Midoriya tended to type out his thoughts. They were really messy, Shouto couldn’t decipher half of it, but he thought it was endearing. Admittedly, almost everything about Midoriya was endearing. He was a really loveable guy, and Shouto would be stupid not to notice that.

“You have an ice quirk?” Midoriya asked after a while.

Shouto nodded, removing his hand from Midoriya’s neck. He froze the sweat that clung to his fingers, watching it roll off his hand. They really should have stayed into the café instead of going out into the humidity. But Midoriya wanted to sit under the stars. There weren’t many stars out that night, but Shouto didn’t mind. Though it probably was Midoriya’s company that he truly didn’t mind.

To his surprise, instead of fawning over his quirk or asking more questions—Shouto had learned that Midoriya was a hero enthusiast—Midoriya just started to laugh.

“It’s a pretty normal quirk,” Shouto said, confused why Midoriya thought it was funny. Maybe it didn’t fit him?

“No, I know,” Midoriya grew even more flustered, his freckles bright against his rosy cheeks. Shouto was thankful that they had taken the bench underneath the lamp-light. “It’s just, okay, you haven’t watched an awful lot of movies, have you?”

Despite being confused, and being a little hurt, Shouto shook his head. He watched movies before his quirk had manifested, which is ages ago, and he started to watch movies again during his time living in the dormitories or staying at Yamada and Aizawa. But he only liked a few, and between Yamada’s taste for American movies and Tenya’s fascination with documentaries, there wasn’t much else he watched.

Midoriya started to hum a tune, one Shouto only vaguely recognised. He had no idea where it came from, and Midoriya stopped a bit later once he probably realised Todoroki didn’t get it.

“Really?” Midoriya looked a little disappointed.

Shouto shook his head.

“I’m disappointed with your classmates,” Midoriya said, shaking his head. “You lived in dorms, right? I would’ve expected them at least burst out into Let It Go once, especially with how you look.”

“How I look?” Shouto asked, fingers touching his scar before he realised he had covered it up.

Midoriya’s smile faltered a little. “No, it isn’t a bad thing.” He paused, fiddling with his coffee-cup. “With your hair. Long and in a braid, and it’s light! Elsa’s hair is blond and not pink, but still. And with your quirk! You would be a hit at children’s parties!”

A memory of the second year of high school hit him. They were watching a movie, he couldn’t remember which one it was, and at the point all of them they burst out in a song. Ochaco had jokily said that the girl singing it could have been his long-lost sister.

“Wait, is this about the girl with ice-powers?”

“Yes!” Midoriya was basically glowing. And then he got up and burst out in singing.

Midoriya wasn’t the best singer. He wasn’t terrible, Shouto had heard worse. (He liked Ochaco well enough, but she couldn’t sing to save her life). But it wasn’t as pleasing as hearing Yamada sing. Actually, sing and not shout.

Midoriya belted the lyrics Shouto now recognised, laughing as his voice cracked at attempts to go higher. After a while, he finished and started to giggle. Midoriya fell back onto the park bench, heaving a little. The park was basically empty, which was to be expected this late in the evening. Shouto was glad, as he hadn’t wanted all that attention.

“You’re ridiculous,” Shouto said, but he couldn’t be truly mad at Midoriya.

Midoriya laughed. “I can live with that,” he said a little breathily. “It’s just, I can see it, and now I can’t unsee it. Why didn’t you call yourself Ice King? That would’ve been hilarious.”

He felt a little guilty for not telling Midoriya everything. His friends knew who he was, but Midoriya didn’t. He didn’t even know that Shouto was the hero Lukewarm. Just that Shouto was a pro-hero.

“I’m not sure if Ice King fits,” he said.

“It doesn’t,” Midoriya said, tucking a strand of Shouto’s hair behind his ear. Close, too close. “But it’s fun, to think up a hero name. I had many as a kid. Also, I always imagine myself having some kind of theme song. Like if they would ever have an animated series about my hero personality, there is this song that always plays when my hero pops up. And I just imagine that your song would be Let It Go.”

Shouto felt his heart starting to tap-dance. Midoriya was way too close to him, both physically and emotionally, and that was bad for his heart. Though hearing him talk about his hero dreams was a little crushing.

~*~

T. Shouto: Does each hero have their own theme song?

U. Ochako: I think so???
U. Ochako: I mean, I always like to think that Defying Gravity is about me.
U. Ochako: When I finally decided that I wanted to become a hero.
U. Ochako: Why?

T. Shouto: Well…
T. Shouto: There is this guy I met.

U. Ochako: YOU MET A GUY??? IS HE CUTE???

T. Shouto: Maybe?
T. Shouto: Well, yes, he’s cute.
T. Shouto: He’s a med student, wants to become a field doctor.

U. Ochako: Oh wow ^o^ he sounds amazing.

T. Shouto: He is. He said that he always hoped that one day
T. Shouto: If he would ever become a hero
T. Shouto: He would have his own theme song.
T. Shouto: So I wondered if everyone thinks like that.
T. Shouto: That everyone wants to have their own theme song.

U. Ochako: Awwwwwww.
U. Ochako: But I think it’s something that’s each their own.
U. Ochako: I think that having a theme song is cool!
U. Ochako: Which song do you think is yours?

T. Shouto: He suggested Let It Go, from that movie we once watched.
T. Shouto: He started to belt it in the middle of the park once he realised I had an ice quirk because he said it was fitting.

U. Ochako: Marry him Shouto. Whatever you do, marry him. It’s a sign!

T. Shouto: The sign?

U. Ochako: In a Disney movie, if a guy or girl sings to you
U. Ochako: They’re either the villain or the love interest.
U. Ochako: And I’m gunning for the love interest.

T. Shouto: Oh.
T. Shouto: Is that how it works?

U. Ochako: Not necessarily
U. Ochako: But if a cute guy or girl sings Disney songs for me
U. Ochako: In the park late at night,
U. Ochako: I’m so buying wedding rings.

T. Shouto: I know him for two months. It’s the guy who knocked me out cold.

U. Ochako: Even more the reason to marry him!

T. Shouto: How does this even make sense?

U. Ochako: Love doesn’t make sense dear.
U. Ochako: It comes knocking on the door, and before you’re ready, it kicks in the door and barges into your life.

T. Shouto: Why would he kick in the door?

U. Ochako: I love you so much.

~*~

“We weren’t originally planning on involving you,” the cop said, tossing the map with papers on the table. “But the situation has changed.”

Shouto was honestly clueless. He had been summoned by the police with a request if he could assist them with an operation. The odd thing was that some other pro-heroes were already on the case. He knew that both Kirishima and Ochako were working on the case, though they were pretty tight-lipped.
“What has changed so that Red Riot and Uravity aren’t able to handle it anymore?” he asked, feeling a little sceptical. Both were perfectly capable heroes and unless they needed massive man-power—which many other heroes could offer—the duo wouldn’t need a third man.

The police officer took out a couple of pictures from the map, spreading them out in front of Shouto. Now it made sense.

The first picture was a blurry picture of what seemed a woman. Another picture showed ice-covered streets and buildings, there were even some people frozen rock-solid. The last one showed a message carved into ice. ‘There can only be one ice-queen’ it read.

“But I’m a guy,” Shouto deadpanned, looking over the pictures once again.

“You’re the only pro-hero who uses ice, so we took the liberty to assume she aimed the threat at you,” the police officer explained. “And even if she isn’t threatening you, you will be a huge help in our investigation. Your quirks are similar, and we could really use people who can thaw things, well, mostly people out.

Shouto wasn’t the biggest fan of working with the police. Not because they were bad or corrupt, but because it meant a lot of paperwork, a lot of sitting down and little fighting.

“Who is she?” Shouto asked, tapping the blurry picture of the woman.

“She calls herself Ice Queen, we don’t know her civilian name. She showed up around the time you started. While there are no deaths, enough police-officers and heroes had ended up in the hospital with either hypothermia or frostbites. Also, she both causes a lot of distress in the neighbourhoods she attacks and she causes a lot of destruction.”

In all honesty, Shouto wasn’t really interested in this case. However, he had been doing pro-hero for over three months, and he hadn’t been involved in a police case yet. He had been lucky up until now. So, he had to suck it up and deal with it.

“I’ll help.”

~*~

“I love your quirk,” Midoriya moaned, resting his cheek against Shouto’s right shoulder. “It’s so cool.”

He had figured that Midoriya was touchy feeling kind of person. He liked to touch people, hug them, throw an arm around them, knees bumping. So this shouldn’t surprise him. While Shouto wasn’t perfectly comfortable, he had eased into it by now. Partially because it was Midoriya. He doubted that Midoriya could do a lot wrong.

“Is that the only reason you hang out with me?” he teased.

“Nah,” Midoriya said, stretching out like a lazy cat. A fluffy, adorable lazy cat. “I would have hung out with my A/C. I like your presence.”

Shouto felt his heart thrum gently as if pleased with Midoriya’s answer. He was. He was waiting for the day that Midoriya would be tired of him.

“You do?”

Midoriya nodded.

Feeling slightly sluggish himself, Shouto slouched on his couch. Now Midoriya was basically cuddling with his right arm. Okay, time for a distraction.

“You take self-defence classes, right?” Shouto asked, trying to distract himself and Midoriya.

Midoriya hummed in confirmation.

“Would you like to spar with me?”

He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not. Midoriya wasn’t a pro-hero, he didn’t spend days running around, fighting criminals and villains. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to underestimate Midoriya. He made the best of what he was with sheer determination. And Shouto’s hand-to-hand combat was lousy.

“Really?” Midoriya asked, his surprise both reflected in his eyes and voice. “But you’re a pro-hero.”

“With only basic hand-to-hand combat training. My homeroom teacher is still disappointed.”

Of course, he could have asked Hitoshi for sparring sessions. They have spent enough time together to be familiar with one another, and Hitoshi was personally trained by Aizawa. He probably was the best at hand-to-hand combat in his old class. But Hitoshi was busy. Hero work was a thing, and he did volunteer work at the local orphanages. And there was the thing with Tenya which nobody was sure about. Where they dating? Where they just friends? They at least lived together and hung out together. So there was little time for Shouto to really fit in there, especially for combat training his agency also offered.

“I would think it's really cool,” Midoriya said thoughtfully. “ I have no place to really spar. My self-defence classes are in a school's gymnasium after school hours, and I don’t think I can get a room for my own, even if I drag a pro-hero along.”

Shouto felt excitement, more excitement than he had felt in a while. He hadn't been doing a lot of hero training. Actually, looking back on it, all the training he got was just work. When he was done with work, he either fell asleep on the couch, spent some time with Midoriya or joined the weekly class reunion—he was still holding the track record of most time attending, thank you very much.

However, if they couldn't find a place to spar at, there wouldn't be any sparring. Shouto's apartment was out of the question, it wasn't fit for fighting. There were some fitness machines, but that's it. Maybe they could go to some local places and ask if they could book a room to practice, but that was a hassle. He couldn’t take Midoriya to his hero agency, as civilians weren’t allowed unless needed for the investigation. He needed another option. He could ask Yamada or Aizawa if they knew anything.

Ah.

“I might have an idea,” Shouto said slowly.

He wasn't sure if it was going to work, but Aizawa would at least encourage him to do more hand-to-hand combat training. And Aizawa was familiar with combat training, so most likely, he knew where Shouto had to look.

“That sounds promising,” Midoriya teased, and Shouto half-heartedly hit him with a throw pillow.

Shouto god-honest pouted, and he blamed Kaminari for it. “My old homeroom teacher might fix me up with something. If he's in a good mood.”

Maybe he should consider bribery. But what kind of bribery worked on Aizawa? Cats always worked, though now wouldn't be the best timing. Despite being an old lady already, Bella somehow had managed to get herself knocked-up (Shouto was slightly surprised it took that long. According to Yamada, she had many affairs with other cats).

Or, he just could tell Aizawa that he wanted to improve his hand-to-hand combat (and hinting that it was with a new friend wouldn't hurt him either, Aizawa was always thrilled if he made new friends, though he wasn’t as vocal about it as Yamada).

~*~

“So... can I ask you something?” Shouto asked, and all hell broke loose.

Aizawa stopped grading his papers, and Yamada looked up from cooking, looking a little shocked. And then he started to wail, dramatically.

“Getting kids was a mistake,” Yamada wailed, waving around a spoon. Food got everywhere. “They will only visit when they need something from you.”

Shouto felt himself grow fidgety, his face felt warm.

“Knew it,” Yamada added. “We're being used.”

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Hizashi, that's enough.”

The wailing immediately stopped. Yamada looked perfectly fine, Shouto even noticed the smile he tried to hide. He felt sorry for Hitoshi—these they were his parents. Shouto didn't have to deal with half their shit.

“What do you want to ask?” Aizawa asked, offering Shouto all his attention.

Now that the conversation had taken a serious turn, Hitoshi looked up from his phone. Only Tenya politely ignored them, or, well, he tried to.

Clearing his throat, Shouto wondered what the best way was to address this, without making himself sound desperate (or love-struck, as Ochako liked to call it).

“Me and my friend want to spar, but we have no place to really... spar,” Shouto trailed off, feeling like this wasn't quite what he had been gunning for. He at least hadn’t made it sound romantic.

Hitoshi snickered. “Do you mean sparring as in, actually sparring, or the 'other' kind of sparring?”

“The first kind,” Shouto said curtly, feeling his heart hammer against his chest. He had no real interest in sex, and even Midoriya, who he felt really connected to, couldn’t change that.

“Doesn't your agency have places to train?” Yamada asked, adding his own two cents to the conversation. “I'm pretty sure most have.”

This was embarrassing. He shouldn't have done this during family dinner.

“Well, the issue is, he isn't a pro-hero.”

Sometimes Shouto missed the uptight Tenya he came to know at first. Of course, he was more fun when he didn't have a metaphorical stick up his ass (Kaminari's words, not his), but he also didn't nose into other people's private lives.

“You want to teach him self-defence?” Tenya asked, and Shouto knew it was well-meant. He truly did. But the answer was way too embarrassing.

“He already knows self-defence,” Shouto answered.

“So you want to fight a civilian?” Aizawa asked, voice sharp and slightly frightening.

“No!” Shouto said in a hurry. “Well, yes and no. We have no ill will towards each other, it's just... I thought it would be fun. Maybe I could even learn from him? My hand-to-hand combat is poor.”

Aizawa was still frowning, but the real bite had disappeared. “You wouldn't be allowed to do that without supervision. There is a lot of legal stuff behind these things.”

Shouto mentally cursed. Supervision, great. Now someone would see him mooning over Midoriya.

“Wednesday evening,” Aizawa said. “I will be able to book a room at U.A., and I will supervise.”

He wasn't sure whenever he was scared or happy. Well, of course, he was happy. If Midoriya had time—which he had because Wednesday was his day off from his part-time job—they could go sparring. He was scared about the fact that Aizawa would see 1) his poor hand-to-hand combat skills and 2) he could see that he was at least partially smitten with Midoriya. (He refused to call it an actual crush—Ochako was a dreamer).

“Thank you,” Shouto said, bowing a little.

“Are you leaving or will you stay for dinner?” Yamada asked.

“I will stay,” he answered, and it was the truth. He never had intended to drop by, ask, and leave. He enjoyed their small get-togethers. It was calm, it was nice, and it was one of the few times he saw Hitoshi and Tenya.

“Good, now you can help me with dinner,” Yamada said, smile bright and warm.

Maybe he should have left.

~*~

It was a family thing. Well, semi-adoptive family thing. He had arrived home late, which left him only thirty minutes to eat dinner, shower, and get dressed before he had to meet up with Midoriya for their sparring session (it still wasn’t a date, no matter what Ochako said). Anyway, after a hurried micro-waved dinner, a quick shower, Shouto was down to his luck. Well, as in, he was unable to find any sweatpants. At least a pair that wasn’t pink. (He wasn’t even sure if they were his.)

So he was stuck with pink sweats, and he just knew that Midoriya was eyeing the pair. He should have worn shorts and pack his sweats, in case it got cold.

“Where are we even going?” Midoriya asked, sweat trickling down his face.

Despite that it was already evening, it still was warm, and they decided to warm-up by going on a jog towards U.A.. Not that Midoriya knew that they were going there. He probably would have never agreed on jogging, knowing that information.

Meeting someone while wearing shorts and a sweat-soaked singlet wouldn’t leave the best impression (though Shouto thought he looked wonderful).

“Somewhere,” Shouto answered vaguely. “You’ll see.”

Midoriya was too busy babbling about work, his favourite heroes, last evening’s dinner, to notice the gate of U.A. looming in front of them. It was only when Shouto slowed down to transition into a quick walk that he started to pay attention.

“We’re there already?” Midoriya asked, following Shouto’s example to lower his pace.

They stopped at the gates of U.A., the guards eyeing them with scepticism. They were too old to be students, and a bit young to be a teacher.

“Aizawa will take responsibility for us,” Shouto said.

Midoriya finally noticed where they were. The look on his face was like an open book, the way his eyes were glowing, the smile that could light up the entire city, the excitement crackling off him.

“U.A.,” Midoriya said in awe. “You brought us to U.A.. The hero school. It had been my dream to go here.”

Shouto wanted to say ‘I know’, but he couldn’t. He didn’t need more than the happiness that radiated from Midoriya.

“Aizawa is expecting one Yamada Shouto and guest, ID’s please,” the guard said.

Shouto handed the guard his ID, quite used to the whole thing. Midoriya, on the other hand, whipped out his ID as if he had been keeping it at hand, reading to push it into someone’s face. The someone would be the guard, who patiently took the ID from Midoriya’s trembling hands.

After a few minutes of the guard probably checking Midoriya’s background—letting in villains would be a guarantee to get fired—they were released into the school grounds.

“This is so cool,” Midoriya’s voice had gotten a little high-pitched, excitement as clear as the cloudless sky. “Maybe I can meet some pro-heroes? Did you know All Might works here?”

“He was one of my teachers,” Shouto answered.

“He was?” Midoriya looked awe-struck. He had completely stopped walking. “Was he cool? Was he your favourite teacher?”

Shouto worried his lip between his teeth, wondering what to answer. Shouto had been a huge fan of All Might, but he had been a bit… underwhelming as a teacher. He got better over the years, but he wasn’t the best teacher material. He was better at being a hero, inspiring people and bringing hope.

“He was an interesting teacher,” Shouto said, cringing at how badly he was avoiding the subject. “He wasn’t my favourite though.”

He was relieved that Midoriya seemed perfectly okay with it, just keeping on smiling as they continued to roam the grounds.

“Who was your favourite teacher?” Midoriya asked after a bit.

He briefly wondered if it was Aizawa or Yamada. Probably Yamada, he liked the noise, the brightness he brought into the world. It was nice—it was nice to have just noise when he was used to so much quiet or loud roars.

“Present Mic.”

“Oh,” Midoriya said. “He’s such a cool hero. Though, he is so… loud.”

He imagined Midoriya thinking ‘it doesn’t suit you’.

“And you aren’t?” Shouto asked, managing to smile a little. “And I like you plenty.”

Midoriya grew flustered. “Right, of course. Opposites attract and all.”

Realising what it could imply, Shouto decided to cut their walk short before he did something stupid. Like catch fire, or freeze something (or someone). He hated how his quirk and emotions were linked to each other, it was inconvenient. Midoriya was just too sweet (or, Shouto was just way too gay and latched onto the first guy he remotely liked).

He would never tell Midoriya that they had taken a detour, it would be mortifying. They had arrived early—his fault—because he liked to spend time with Midoriya. Also, it was a delight to see Midoriya’s face light up as they explored the school halls. He was wonderfully expressive.

Turning the corner, Shouto was both relieved and slightly saddened to see Aizawa. Midoriya’s breath caught in his throat, the tiny gasp clearly audible.

“It’s Eraserhead,” Midoriya whispered, clutching Shouto’s arm. “He’s such a cool hero.”

Aizawa looked amused as he and Midoriya approached him. Well, he was approaching him, he was basically dragging Midoriya along, who was still clinging onto his arm. Now he was glad he decided to visit U.A. with Midoriya after school hours, he probably would pass out from excitement meeting so many heroes and heroes in training at the same time.

“Are those Hizashi’s?” Aizawa asked, shamelessly staring at Shouto’s pink sweats.

“No,” Shouto said, feeling ill at ease. Mostly because Midoriya was still hugging his arm and he was waiting for the moment he would combust into flames.

“He gives everyone these—I’m pretty sure that even Tenya owns a pair, and Hitoshi two.” Despite sounding annoyed, Aizawa looked mostly fond. “And you’re Shouto’s friend.”

Midoriya god-honest squeaked, his face starting to resemble a strawberry red colour.

“Yes!” Midoriya shouted, grabbing Aizawa’s outstretched hand. “Midoriya Izuku.”

“Aizawa Shouta. Now, let’s get in. I’m not planning on spending my entire evening here babysitting two adults.”

~*~

Shouto realised his hand-to-hand combat was absolutely dreadful. Midoriya completely wiped the floor with him, until Shouto decided to use a quirk a little bit. Mostly quick get-away, using his ice to basically glide over the floor instead of having to walk. It saved him a few precious seconds, though Midoriya still wiped the floor with him.

He also realised that Midoriya was ripped. For someone who looked so soft and cuddle-able, he packed quite some muscles. Not that Shouto was purposely feeling Midoriya up, it was just a matter of the shirts coming off as it was getting way too hot.

“You’re blushing,” Aizawa said teasingly.

Shouto groaned. “Don’t remind me. I was caught off guard.”

Aizawa chuckled. “So was I with Hizashi.”

He had heard that story way too often. A whirlwind romance between the two. One day they meet, and a year-and-a-half later they got married. Not that Shouto expected the same to happen between him and Midoriya. Relationship aside, he wasn’t in a hurry to get married, especially with both of them still settling and growing into their jobs and themselves.

Shouto was surprised that it took for Midoriya so long to come up to him and Aizawa, who had decided to hide in some dark corner of the gymnasium once they had stopped. Naturally more comfortable with Aizawa than Midoriya (he knows Aizawa just for way longer), Shouto had joined Aizawa in that dark corner. Midoriya had spent the meantime wiping away sweat and returning some calls (by the sound of it, it was his mum).

“You usually hide in dark corners?” Midoriya asked, a bright smile on his face.

“He does,” Shouto said, pointing to Aizawa.

Aizawa rolled his eyes. “Always blame the poor parenting.”

“You did a better job than my old man,” Shouto said without even thinking.

Midoriya let out a small gasp but kept mercifully quiet about it. That went well.

“Midoriya,” Aizawa said, addressing Midoriya for pretty much the first time in the evening. Aizawa had bothered little with their sparring matches, aside from pointing out mistakes (mostly on Shouto’s behalf). “Do you have time on Friday evenings?”

Midoriya looked confused, which was absolutely fair. Shouto had no idea where this was going either (unless Aizawa was trying to get him a date like one of those memes Kaminari had shown him).

“Yes, sir,” Midoriya answered.

Aizawa nodded in obvious satisfaction. “Then I would like to ask if you’re interested in one-on-one training with me, on Friday evenings. My husband is away, my kids moved out, so my evenings are generally free. I don’t like free evenings.”

Shouto would have expected that Midoriya would faint on the spot. At least, he looked ready to start hyperventilating right here, right now.

“Really?”

Aizawa tried to look regretful, he failed, miserably. “Yes, really. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I would love to!”

He was beautiful at this moment. His hair was sticking in every direction, and his curls were bigger because of the humidity. His skin was glowing (partially because of the sweat), his freckles were a stark contrast against the flushed tan and his eyes. His eyes were a pool of a starry sky if the sky was green.

The knowing smirk Aizawa shot his way made him regret bringing Midoriya along.

~*~

Shouto had entirely forgotten about the fact he low-key had called Aizawa his dad. Or at least, he had mentioned that Aizawa was some kind of paternal figure for him, which wasn't even a lie. But it seemed Midoriya hadn't forgotten about it, and clearly had been dying to ask for the facts.

“Are you and Eraserhead close?” Midoriya asked out of the blue. A minute ago, he had been gushing about the one-on-one training he would be getting.

Shouto nodded.

“I mean, I kinda figured,” Midoriya went on. “You were quite at ease with him, and he seemed to think more of you than just a student, or ex-student. He isn't your biological father, neither age, quirk or looks match-up, but you also mentioned something about your old man, which is probably your real father. So does this mean you're adopted by Mr Aizawa or are you just close to him?”

Ignoring the nerves clinging to his tongue, the faintly frosted breath, Shouto nodded once again, this time forcing himself to explain.

“Me and my old man... never really got along. In high school, I met Aizawa—he was my homeroom teacher—and he opened his house for me to visit sometimes when home got too much. And even after the dorm system had been put into motion, I still visited him often. While I never truly got adopted, it feels like they're my second family.”

Midoriya immediately noticed his slip-up. “They?”

“Aizawa, his husband, his son and their half-son. More like a non-blood-related nephew. To me, they're like my adoptive family.”

“If I ever meet your real father, I will hit him.”

Shouto smiled. “I would let you.”

Midoriya beamed at him, and Shouto felt his heart stutter a few beats.

~*~

“So where are you taking me this time?” Midoriya asked, shooting him a soft smile.

Ignoring the unavoidable blush that crept up—why did he start to crush on the most endearing person ever?—Shouto answered. He had no reason to keep this quiet as it wasn't necessarily a surprise. Though he had kept the details a secret so that Midoriya wouldn't start worrying or freaking out.

“Bowling,” Shouto answered, turning right after his GPS give him the instructions. “With a couple of friends of mine.”

Midoriya let out a distressed noise before starting to mutter under his breath. Shouto had noticed a long time ago that letting him sort out his thoughts was the best way to handle Midoriya's mumbling. There was so much going on in that pretty head of his.

Shouto realised that he would be screwed if he would ever meet a telepath because Shouto’s thoughts were… interesting. It was the words he would never speak out loud, in fear of losing Midoriya.

“They will like you if that's what you're worried about,” Shouto said after picking a few distressed cues from Midoriya's muttering.

“I know that!” Midoriya said, a little too loud and a little too quick. “It's just, they're all heroes, your friends, right? I'm just a field medic, in training even! I can’t compare.”

Shouto stopped walking, pocketing his phone for now. They would have been early anyway, so there was no need to rush.

Turning around to face Midoriya, Shouto tried to figure out what the best way would be to comfort him. What kind of gestures would work, and which were counterproductive?

“Hey,” Shouto said, softly touching Midoriya elbow. “You don’t have to compare yourself—you’re wonderful, and if they don’t like you, I will need other friends. You're going to save lives, just as we do. And you work even harder than any of us. You're someone who we should admire, for your determination, for your passion. I've had classmates who weren't half-as-motivated as you're.”

“Really?” Midoriya asked.

Shouto nodded. He realised that he sounded like a love-struck fool trying to hide his feelings behind friendship.

“Tell me about the debut hero, what’s her name again?”

Midoriya immediately answered him, and started a long spiel about how amazing the debut hero was, and how useful her quirk was and that she must have trained hard to control her quirk, as it was difficult to control and rather impractical.

Shouto was glad to hear Midoriya talk freely, being distracted so that the nerves wouldn't hit him. He knew that his friend would be fine with Midoriya, and it wouldn’t be too busy. There was Ochako, Tsuyu, Kaminari and Sero. The only thing he had to fear was that Kaminari would steal Midoriya away. The only thing he hoped that Midoriya wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the number of pro-heroes he was surrounding himself with. Especially since Midoriya was a huge fan of Uravity.

~*~

“Your boyfriend was adorable.”

“Midoriya isn’t my boyfriend.”

“But you want him to be your boyfriend.”

Kaminari wasn’t wrong, but Shouto liked to keep these thoughts to himself or share them with Ochako. He didn’t know Kaminari well enough, and he feared that all his deep secrets would find their way in the hero rumour mill. Something along the likes of ‘pro hero Lukewarm has a painful crush on a civilian. Ten reasons why are pro-hero should date a civilian (and ten reasons why not)’.

“You totally want to,” Kaminari teased, scribbling on the margins of his paperwork. Shouto pitied the person who had to process Kaminari’s paperwork. “I don’t expect him to cry when he saw Ochako. Who knew that he was a fan?”

Shouto had felt a little bit bad for not telling Midoriya about Ochako, but he hadn’t expected Midoriya to recognise Ochako immediately. Admittedly, many of them didn’t bother to hide his hero persona like he did.

Kaminari shot a piece of paper towards him and it harmlessly bouncing off Shouto’s desk. How could Kiminari still have such a bad aim when he used flying objects to utilise his quirk? Or maybe office work was for Kaminari what weekend was like for Shouto. Brain on stand-by.

“You didn’t tell him about your scar.”

“Why should I?”

He had considered it, opening up about who he was, but he had this ever-lingering fear that Midoriya would be repulsed by him. His scar wasn’t attractive, no matter what some people said. He wasn’t bad looking per se, he was perfectly aware of that, but physical attributes weren’t worth anything with the number of issues he carried. He wasn’t looking for someone to spend a night with, but someone to spend a life with. Attraction only could get one so far.

“You look like someone shot your dog,” Kaminari pointed out. “If he’s put off by your scar, you might need a new love interest.”

“You’re volunteering?” Another co-worker asked. Shouto vaguely remembered her from his school time. A class B student maybe? One day he should ask Itsuka if they would ever hang out again. Why were they all so busy, and why did Itsuka had to go to a hero agency out of town.

“I don’t think we mesh,” Kaminari laughed. “He isn’t my type.”

“Or you still have the hots for your roommate.”

Kaminari groaned, and it took Shouto a few seconds to realise that the woman was referring to Sero. The two are pretty close, which was to be expected as they lived together. On the other hand, he was pretty close with Ochako, yet he had no desire to live together with her (that most likely would result in a disaster). Cooking? They would survive on take-out. And Tsuyu probably would be sad that Shouto had stolen her housemate.

“You and Sero are actually a thing?”

Kaminari shook his head, “Nah, I think we’re better off as friends. I mean, friendships can last you a lifetime.”

The woman snorted. “Those are the words of a coward. You either don’t want to date him, which is perfectly fine—you aren’t best friends unless it’s a little bit gay—but you might die in five years. As a pro-hero, we don’t have the time to wonder about what-ifs.”

While the woman was calling out Kaminari, Shouto was quite sure the same applied to him. He liked Midoriya but had planned on never acting on his feelings. Romance could lead to hurt, and he didn’t like hurt.”

“That’s harsh, Tokage,” Kaminari faked a winch. “I thought you were the nice one.”

“I’m the nice one, I could tell you to just give up.”

“That would’ve been nicer.”

The woman propped her elbows on her desk, resting her chin on the palms of her hands.

“Nicer? Maybe for now, but in the long run, when you die all alone because you were too afraid to try? It wouldn’t have been as nice.”

Well, at least she wasn’t lecturing him.

Before the woman named Tokage could sink her teeth in Shouto’s list of issues, a text popped up on his phone, marked as urgent. By the looks of it, Tokage and Kaminari got the same message, as they both looked down at their phones.

“Work,” Tokage sighed. “I will get to you, Lukewarm, don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she stared pointedly at him before packing for whatever issue the distress call was sent out.

“Lucky,” Kaminari whispered as they both filed out of the room. “That woman can be quite vicious.”

“I spent four years studying with Itsuka and Momo, and Ochako is one of my best friends. She doesn’t scare me.”

Kaminari grinned, “Are you sure?”

Shouto shook his head. Tokage made him nervous, though not because she was a woman. Because she was hitting so close to home. She might as well been talking about him, except for the roommates’ part.

~*~

“It has been way too long,” Momo greeted when Shouto arrived at the small establishment Momo had picked.

Shouto frowned, doing mental math. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?” he pondered.

“Two months is quite long, I hadn’t even the chance to see your hair like this.”

Momo reached out for his hair, and Shouto let her, though not without the urge to yank it away. He hated that still, up to this date, he struggled with personal space and close contact.

Momo got her fill with inspecting Shouto’s hair and sat down again. A waitress walked over to their table, asking for Shouto’s order. Knowing what happened the last time he was drunk around Momo, he just ordered a water. Momo looked almost disappointed.

“I’ve seen your name pop up here and there in the news. It seems you’re doing well.”

Shouto nodded, ignoring the urge to tap his foot. This was ridiculous! He and Momo went to the same high school, and the same college. He had seen her almost daily for seven years, and he still was nervous. Or maybe it wasn’t Momo that made him nervous per se, but the questions she could ask. She was pretty observant, after all. Could read Shouto like an open book, unlike most of his friends.

“So, what’s going on in your personal life?”

“What?”

“Shouto, you aren’t the talkative type, but I haven’t seen you shut down like this in a while. Is it a boy?”

He wanted to say no, but his face betrayed his answer.

“Boy trouble. Please tell me you aren’t crushing on an absolute douche again?”

Despite that he wanted to talk about everything but this, he felt some level of gratefulness for Momo’s concern. She had his happiness and well-being in mind and clearly was capable of picking up Shouto’s body language and the little cues.

The waitress returned with his glass of water and let them be. Toying with the glass, Shouto tried to get his mind to focus, figuring out the right words.

“He’s sweet,” he eventually said. “Ochako approves of him. It’s just, he knows nothing, and I’m too scared to tell him anything.”

Momo frowned, sipping her own brightly coloured cocktail. “How much is ‘nothing’?”

“He knows that I do hero work and that me and my father aren’t on the best of terms, but that’s it. He is unaware of my hero-identity or my real name, he never has…” Shouto trailed off, touching his make-up covered scar.

“That isn’t too bad. He would understand.”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“Then he doesn’t,” Momo waved at a waitress and asked for a refill. “You can’t live your life only limiting your dating pool to your classmates. Maybe this guy is the one, but you’re too chicken to tell him about the things that make you what you are, even if you don’t like them.”

A grin curled on Momo’s lips. “Also, is he cute?”

Taking the opportunity to ignore Momo’s first remark—he was quite sure she did that on purpose, giving him the space to take her words at his own pace—Shouto took out his phone and showed him a picture Midoriya had sent him. Midoriya liked to take pictures together, keeping them as memories. While Shouto didn’t love the camera, he found it hard to say no to Midoriya.

“He is cute,” Momo said excitedly. “I can’t believe you actually have taste.”

“What?”

“In college, you went after the dicks. No offence, actually, full offence, but none of them were particularly pleasant. They weren’t bad looking, I have to admit that, but their personality left a lot to be desired. This guy looks pretty average, but nice. What kind of work does he do?”

Shouto was a little offended by Momo’s comment. He didn’t have such a bad taste in men, did he? Well, he vaguely recalled the people he had been attracted—on a physical level—to, and indeed, most of them hadn’t been the kindest. He had never desired to date any of them though. He just appreciated how they looked. Still, his taste had been assholes, up until Midoriya, that is. It was hard to imagine Midoriya as an asshole.

“He’s in his last year of becoming a field medic,” Shouto told Momo. “Working alongside heroes and such.”

“Cute and brilliant. Now I want to meet him.”

“No.”

The difference between the likes of Ochako and Momo meeting was that Ochako hadn’t been there during his heartbreak, during his sexual crisis, during his college time in general. She didn’t know the ‘new him’ not all that well. Not that he had changed that much. He just never told Ochako anything beyond the fact that he liked dudes, and that didn’t surprise Ochako all that much. Apparently, nobody that knew had been surprised. Momo just hit closer to home, he supposed.

“You know that you eventually have to introduce him, right?”

Momo’s phone chimed, and for a few seconds, Shouto felt safe from the subject. Maybe it was work calling her in. Clearly, that wasn’t it, because her expression only grew happier.

“Itsuka is here,” she said. “Which means that it will be two people against one.”

He knew that he could hope, but Itsuka would side with Momo. They liked to meddle with Shouto’s love life or lack thereof. It was like he had gotten two more sisters, only they weren’t as polite as Fuyumi.

~*~

Shouto felt like he had stepped onto a movie set. The entire street was covered in a thick layer of ice. Cars were encased in ice, humans were almost fully frozen. Ice Queen was at least merciful enough to keep their noses and eyes uncovered, giving them a chance to survive.

“This is horrible,” Ochako whispered, her fingers reaching out to touch a frozen human. Shouto pushed her hand away.

He placed his left hand against the frozen figure and started to melt the ice. Two medics came rushing over, catching the person before dragging them off to the ambulance, trying to keep them warm and cosy. Or at least, avoid them from dying of hypothermia.

“Your quirk is really useful.”

Shouto was quite sure that his soul had left his body. Ochako herself too looked surprised, both of their gazes settled on a man in the medic uniform. Shouto had briefly wondered if he had imagined the voice, but the green curls, freckles and tan skin unmistakably belonged to Midoriya.

“Midoriya, I mean, sir, I can be dangerous.” Ochako tried to scold, but her voice was squeaky, and she stammered her way through the words.

All silliness faded from Midoriya’s face, professionalism took place.

“Of course, ma’m.” Midoriya almost saluted. “However, mister Lukewarm, we could really use your quirk here. The quicker the people are thawed out, the better.”

Shouto nodded. Clearly, his disguise worked well as Midoriya didn’t even seem to vaguely recognise him. Ochako was very recognisable, as her hero costume wasn’t hiding her identity all that much. Ochako was Uravity and Uravity was Ochako, the two of them were almost indistinguishable.

Walking around, Shouto tried to carefully thaw out the victims, the medics following Shouto like a group of puppies. Ochako was mostly there to remove rubble, as some of the buildings had cracked under the cold of the ice. There barely were any remains of a fight, making Shouto doubt that was much of a fight, to begin with. Ice Queen had been discovered by some pro-hero—at least according to the brief rapport the police had given him—and had fled the scene as quick as possible. If she needed to freeze everything in her way, so be it.

Another body thawed out and was caught by Midoriya, who did the same routine as he did with the others. Checking for breathing, responsiveness and pulse. For the first time, he clearly had no success, as his face grew an ashen colour.

“No pulse!” Midoriya shouted and immediately, a few people were on the victim at the same time.

Shouto stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Up until now, there had been no deaths during his duty, but he hadn’t been doing the biggest jobs. He hadn’t gotten the reputation for that, not yet. This case was actually above his pay grade, but his quirk made him one of the best candidates, and the fact he knew how to work well with Uravity and Red Riot.

Ochako tugged his arm. Her face was pale too, but she at least hadn’t frozen in, whatever Shouto was feeling. Was he scared? Worried? Frightened? Wasn’t being scared and frightened the same thing? Maybe he should have studied Japanese literature and not English.

“There are a few more. I think it’s better to thaw them out. Might save someone from hypothermia.”

~*~

Shouto had wondered if he should have cancelled their date. It wasn’t a date, more like hanging out, but Shouto liked to think of it as a date. Made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. But today’s loss of life, only one, had left him to feel hollow. It was weird, as he didn’t even know the person’s name, but it was someone he hadn’t been able to save. But someone—he was quite sure it had been one of the field doctors—had told him to try to keep himself busy. Sitting down and wallowing in sorrow wouldn’t get him anywhere. Life went on, so should he.

Midoriya’s eyes were still a bit bloodshot when he knocked on Shout’s door, but he didn’t question it. It probably was also Midoriya’s first life he lost, and if not, losing lives was never easy, especially for a medic. It was a medic’s job to try to save lives.

“I might not be the best company today,” Midoriya admitted, sitting down on the couch. He looked like he wanted to be swallowed by the pillows, a feeling Shouto could relate to.

“I might not be the best host either,” Shouto admitted, fetching two cups of tea from the kitchen.

Midoriya sipped his tea with steady hands, which was something Shouto couldn’t say. After nearly tipping half of the cup over his lap, he gave up, putting the saucer and cup down on the coffee table.

Swallowing nervously, licking his lips, Shouto prepared for the most uncomfortable conversation of his life. Not that he was all that old, but he dreaded it. Momo was a liar in saying that it was the best thing to do, opening up to Midoriya. Well, maybe in the long run, but Shouto was ready to flee.

“You want to talk about it?”

“About what?” Midoriya looked like he was seriously surprised and not dodging the subject, which was good. It meant he didn’t have a clue.

“What happened today.”

Midoriya started at him with wide eyes, “how did you know?”

Trying to reign in his nerves, Shouto got up and fetched his hero costume from the bedroom. He wasn’t that secretive that he locked the costume away in some vault. He just didn’t like to scream it from the rooftops.

He tossed the cat-suit on Midoriya’s lamp, who thankfully had put down his cup. He was out of it today.

“I know you’re a hero?” Midoriya said questioningly, inspecting the suit.

“Lukewarm.”

Midoriya hit himself on the forehead, muttering something on his breath.

“It’s really obvious, now you’re saying it,” Midoriya paused. “Are you okay?”

Shouto shook his head. He didn’t feel great, at all.

“I like to cuddle when I feel bad. If I have a cuddle buddy of course.”

He wasn’t entirely sure about it, as he wasn’t the touchy-feeling kind of person. But it seemed like a good thing to do. They understood each other, went through the same thing, and probably could help each other getting over it.

“Sure.”

Shouto sat down next to Midoriya, carefully leaning against Midoriya. He wasn’t quite sure how close he could get. Was there a science to cuddling?

Midoriya laughed, leaning back against Shouto, “you’re as stiff as a board. Cuddling doesn’t work like that.”

He let Midoriya move him around until they were somewhat comfortable. Midoriya was a lot of bulk, but he was still pretty soft. It helped that Midoriya had raided his linen-closet and had packed the couch with blankets.

Ochako broke down the door the day after, afraid that Shouto was being depressed and curling up in bed for the entire day, eating ice cream (the last thing he wanted right now was ice cream). She had found him and Midoriya vast asleep on the couch, only slightly cuddling as it was a big couch, and apparently, Midoriya moved a lot in his sleep. He clearly wasn’t a hero either, because while Shouto was awake in seconds, Midoriya slept through the commotion.

“You didn’t invite me for the cuddle fest?” Ochako pouted, busying herself in Shouto’s kitchen to make some tea.

Shrugging lazily, Shouto rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, trying to get himself to wake up a little. It wasn’t working.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he admitted.

“I didn’t expect it to be,” Ochako said, pouring three cups of tea. “But you never want to cuddle with me, but you’re willing to cuddle with Midoriya?”

“He was sad.”

Ochako shook her head, “I think it’s sweet, it’s just that you aren’t really trying to hide your feelings. Well, maybe Midoriya doesn’t realise, but the rest of us do.”

Shouto wondered how Ochako had found out. He hadn’t tried to be obvious about it, and he thought he had done a pretty good job. Apparently not.

“Momo told me.”

Oh.

“She wasn’t worried per se, but wanted to know if I knew who Midoriya was, and what he was like.” Ochako looked over her shoulder, checking to see if Midoriya was still sound asleep. “He’s a sweetheart.”

Following Ochako’s gaze, he had to admit that Midoriya looked adorable in his sleep. His hair was wilder than usual, he snored softly, and one strand of hair was stuck to lip as if he was trying to eat it.

“Go wake him up,” Ochako pushed a cup of tea in Shouto’s hands. “We can go grab lunch later, but a good cup of tea is an important part of the morning.”

Not wanting to cross Ochako, Shouto tried to wake up Midoriya. It took a few tries, as it turned out, Midoriya was a heavy sleeper. Somehow, awake he looked even cuter. He was glad Midoriya wasn’t some kind of mind reader.

~*~

“So, have you asked Midoriya out already?”

Shouto wondered if he should come to these family dinners. It was nice to catch up with them, seeing what they were up to, hearing the newest gossip about the future heroes.

“No,” Shouto grumbled, opting to stare at his food and stuffing rice in his mouth. “Why should I?”

Hitoshi, who was completely unaware of who Midoriya was, looked really intrigued, “who is Midoriya?”

“A friend.”

Aizawa stared at him with a raised eyebrow, “just a friend?”

“Just a friend.”

“That’s why he never stops talking about you?”

Shouto had forgotten that Aizawa was teaching Midoriya hand-to-hand combat on Fridays. He wondered if he could ask for the same thing, but he doubted that Aizawa would say yes. Shouto had gotten the opportunity many times to learn hand-to-hand combat during his time at U.A., and he never took the opportunity. Midoriya went to a normal high school, and after that, medical school. You didn’t get hand-to-hand combat training at a medical school.

“Because we’re friends?”

Aizawa snorted, and Yamada laughed.

“He sounds like a love-struck teen, I’ve met him when I was picking Shouto up,” Yamada was grinning broadly, eyes twinkling.

He had been part of these conversations, only Hitoshi was usually the one who was under fire.

“He likes heroes,” Shouto pointed out.

“What does he look like?” Hitoshi asked who was still fully ignored by the rest.

Knowing that Hitoshi would eventually go full ninja and find out who Midoriya was, Shouto looked up a picture of Midoriya and showed Hitoshi it.

Tenya, who had kept quiet up until now, scooted over and checked out the picture Shouto was showing.

“He’s surprisingly… cute,” Hitoshi said reluctantly. “I had expected you to have a worse taste.”

“Is he a hero?” Tenya asked. “He looks vaguely familiar.”

“Field medic.”

“That’s really admirable. He seems like a good guy.”

“I still am not going to date him.”

Hitoshi threw so rice at his head, muttering something that sounded a lot like ‘baby’. Not that Hitoshi had any right to think like that, he never once bothered to make it clear what exactly was going on between him and Tenya. A ‘we’re just friends’ was enough, but no, it was all about secrecy and dodging questions left and right.

~*~

Shouto had the feeling he had to install a better lock on his front door because people keep on breaking in. He was sick—everyone had a sick day at some point—so he called in sick. His boss just said ‘get better, and preferably quickly’. Fair enough, Shouto had been doing well as a hero, slowly climbing up the ranks.

Today, it was Midoriya who showed up unannounced. He was quite sure he hadn’t given Midoriya the key, which meant he probably had forced open the lock. Great, he had to replace that one.

“How did you get in?” Shouto asked, curling up further into his bed. He liked his bed, it was soft and warm and made him feel a little better.

Midoriya was standing in his bedroom, his face scrunched up in disgust at the stench of his bedroom, his hands pressed firmly against his hips. Maybe he should’ve opened a window to air it out, but aside from a quick toilet break, Shouto hadn’t bothered to leave his bed. Somehow, Midoriya reminded him a bit of Fuyumi. Only, he never wanted to kiss Fuyumi.

“Your neighbour has your spare key,” Midoriya answered, opening a window to let some fresh, warm air in. He was glad it didn't winter.

“How did you know I was sick?”

Midoriya stared at him as if he had a lucid dream, “you texted me, saying you had to cancel tonight because you’re sick.”

Right, he had forgotten about that. Despite Midoriya telling him, he couldn’t even recall texting Midoriya. But that might be his muddled brain talking.

“Can you sit up?”

Wiggling around a lot, Shouto managed to get into a semi-sitting position. Midoriya nodded in approvement and went to fetch something, returning with a glass of water.

“Drink,” he pushed the glass in Shouto’s clammy hands. “The entire thing.”

Despite not wanting to, Shouto obliged and started to sip the water, watching Midoriya wreak havoc on his bedroom. It was a bit weird to see Midoriya playing nurse, as he only had seen Midoriya being a field medic. Calm, collected, hard-working and keeping cool under difficult circumstances. And saving lives.

“You’re a slop,” Midoriya muttered, digging through his closet to find something. Shouto was glad he didn’t store anything personal in there. “Where do you keep your washcloths?”

“Linen closet, remember?”

Midoriya returned with damp washcloths a minute later or so, though Shouto struggled to keep track of time. He might as well have been gone for an hour, and Shouto could’ve dozed off.

“You technically should take a shower,” Midoriya said, crouching at Shouto’s side. “And clean your sheets, but I think getting you out of bed would be quite a hassle.”

Shouto murmured in agreement, trying to wiggle a little bit further underneath the blanket without spilling water all over him.

When Midoriya pushed the damp washcloth against his face, he wanted to swat it away. But he knew that Midoriya would be able to overpower him in the end, so he let him. It was kinda nice, to be taken care off. Even if he would rather not have Midoriya seem him all sweaty and shivering.

“I assume you usually cover it up, but, uhm, your scar?”

Shouto felt his heart drop. Of course, the scar. He had gotten so used to cover it up, either with makeup or the mask that was part of his hero costume. It also depends on his company, as he was more comfortable around his ex-classmates than with strangers.

“All heroes have scars,” Midoriya said, and it took Shouto a few seconds to realise that he was parroting Shouto. “And they don’t define who you are.”

Midoriya was still wiping his face, but Shouto could no longer feel it, which meant that he probably was wiping off Shouto’s scar. All the nerves had deteriorated, which meant that he could no longer feel there. It was both a blessing and a curse because he would forever be reminded of that, but he couldn’t feel the main anymore that came with it.

Once Midoriya was satisfied with cleaning up his face—Shouto wondered how it was even useful—he ripped off the blankets from Shouto’s bed, despite Shouto’s protests.

“Stop whining, you need clean blankets, and if you’re too lazy, I will have to do it.”

“You’re not my mum.”

Midoriya laughed, “thankfully.”

Shouto wasn’t sure what he meant with that, but he knew that he felt cold and that he missed his blankets. But Midoriya had bundled them up in his arms, marching off to the laundry. After finishing his glass with water—not ready to face Midoriya’s wrath—he tried to make himself comfortable in his bed. Despite the cold, Shouto managed to drowse off. He barely noticed that Midoriya had dumped fresh blankets on him.

He was never going to tell Ochako, or any of his friends, about this.

~*~

“This wasn’t planned.”

Kaminari laughed, “I hope it’s not. That’s why we usually team up with Tokage.”

Oh yeah, she was the brains. And the escape artist, as she could split up her body. At least she wouldn’t be stuck here, suspended from the ceiling like a ham. Shouto wondered if he could freeze the metal until it broke, but he wasn’t risking freezing his skin off. Or Kaminari’s for that matter.

“Well, I finally feel like I am in a movie,” Kaminari said, swinging around a little. The metal didn’t budge, at all. “Though I rather would be touching the ground.”

Shouto looked down, or up, or whatever. He looked at the ground which seemed very far, far away. Another reason to not freeze the chain and crack it, he could snap his neck.

“Want to try to escape?”

“And fall to my death?”

Kaminari shrugged, “if you swing over to me, and grab me, you can break your chains without falling. And after that, you can use your ice power to slide down to the ground and save me.”

It wasn’t a bad plan. At least the best one Kaminari has offered since they had been captured.

Before he could try it out, the door was blasted open, and he saw Red Riot charge into the room. The door banged against the wall, and Shouto was suddenly happy that he was suspended from the ceiling and wasn’t chained to some chair.

“Heard that you needed some help?” Kirishima said, flashing them a broad grin and a thumbs up. Ochako—in costume—followed much later, looking at the door with slight worry.

“Red Riot, what if they had been chained to the floor?”

Kirishima shrugged, “if they were chained to the floor, Lukewarm would’ve gotten them out by now. So I assumed that they were chained to the ceiling.”

“And what if we were out cold?” Kaminari asked, looking a little pale. Shouto couldn’t blame him, his heart was basically beating in his throat.

Kirishima and Ochako shared a quick glance between them before Ochako spoke up, “it has been over twenty-four hours. We couldn’t find you.”

Twenty-four hours? Shouto was sure that he hadn’t been conscious for that long, which meant that they had gotten a real good beating.

It was a bit of a hassle, getting him and Kaminari down. Shouto had ended up raising Ochako up on an ice platform, which was much harder to do from a longer range, and with the help of her quirk, she managed to get him and Kaminari floating. After that, he could safely shatter the chains and let Ochako pull them towards the ground before deactivating her quirk, letting them softly fall on the ground.

“Who kidnapped us anyway?” Kaminari asked, stretching his limbs. “I mean, we aren’t even worthwhile heroes to kidnap.”

“Lukewarm is.”

For a moment, Shouto panicked that the media had found out who he was, foremost, who his father was. Thankfully, Ochako continued her explanation.

“Ice Queen, though she left the building a long time ago. Medics are outside to look at your injuries and take a blood sample.”

Shouto wondered why they would need a blood sample, only to realise that they had been out of it for pretty long. Being drugged wouldn’t be all that farfetched.

Once they arrived outside, Shouto saw that there was indeed a group of medics were waiting for them. He wasn’t surprised to see Midoriya there—it seemed that Midoriya was now permanently attached to the Ice Queen case, just like Kirishima and Ochako. It explained why these two were the ones bailing Shouto out of imprisonment.

“Your boyfriend is here,” Kaminari teased, nudging Shouto’s arm. “He’s really cute.”

Shouto grumbled under his breath but moved over to where Midoriya stood to wait. Mentally, he added ‘for him’, but Shouto knew that Midoriya was just doing his job.

“You look like hell,” Midoriya commented, sitting him down on the edge of a car-trunk. “Do you feel okay?”

“I feel fine,” Shouto said, and he wasn’t lying. He felt fine. A little woozy, but that might be from hanging upside down for a while.

Midoriya eyed him with scepticism but wordlessly started his routine check-up, muttering under his breath. Shouto caught words like ‘heavily bruised’, ‘bloody’ and ‘hope it doesn’t get infected’. Shouto started to worry about his well-being, checking out his own hands. His knuckles were raw, his wrist a little bruised. It was weird he wasn’t feeling any soreness.

“I can’t believe you aren’t feeling anything,” Midoriya said, starting to patch him up. “I think I have to take a blood sample.”

Shouto nodded and barely winced as Midoriya took a blood sample from him. It took a while longer before he was released, and even that the head medic had put him on a couple of days rest, and wait for their call about the blood samples, which was just great. But it could’ve been a lot worse, at least he was just kidnapped. Villains were capable of doing much worse.

~*~

“A fruit basket, seriously?”

His brother Natsuo had a shit-eating grin on his face. His sister Fuyumi looked almost apologetic, though she was still here, not even trying to correct their brother.

“Well, you’re on medical leave, and generally, fruit is healthy.”

Shouto groaned, ignoring the urge to chuck his teacup at his brother, “I am on medical leave to flush out the drugs in my system, not because I broke my leg or something.”

Natsuo shrugged, dumped the fruit basket on the table and sat down on one of the armchairs. , “maybe we just wanted to see you?”

“You’re always welcome. I mean, you have my address and phone number.”

“I mean, you’ve got your own family now,” Fuyumi said, sitting down on another armchair. “It sometimes feels like we’re not as important anymore.”

Shouto shook his head, “you aren’t being replaced—I don’t want Hitoshi and Tenya as my siblings, they’re my friends first and foremost. You’re still my siblings.”

Natsuo took an apple from the fruit basket, grumbling something underneath his breath. He wouldn’t meet Shouto’s gaze.

The doorbell rang, cutting into the tension that was thick between them.

“Should I get it?” Fuyumi asked. He saw no need to send her, but he knew that she wanted to get rid of the tension and wanted to move a little, so he just nodded.

Fuyumi got up and hurried over to the door, opening it. Shouto caught a glimpse of green hair, and he knew that it had to be Midoriya. Well, it could be Tsuyu, but Tsuyu was still away for work and wouldn’t return for weeks on end.

“Hi,” Midoriya’s voice rang, confusion unmistakable. “Should I leave?”

“Oh, no need, come in,” Fuyumi ushered Midoriya inside, her eyes glittering.

Midoriya looked a bit confused, taking him, Natsuo and Fuyumi in.

“Family?” Midoriya asked reluctantly, carefully sitting down next to Shouto.

“Older siblings,” Natsuo said cheekily. “Shouto is our little brother.”

“So you have naturally white hair?”

Shouto shook his head, and before either Fuyumi or Natsuo could say anything, Shouto shot them a warning glare. No snitching right now. Shouto was slowly tearing down his walls that kept his past at bay, his securities, his issues, and his past. But he wasn’t quite yet ready to tell Midoriya about his father.

“It’s a secret,” Fuyumi said, pressing a finger against her lips. “So, you’re a friend of Shouto?”

Midoriya nodded and introduced himself. While his sister remained pretty polite, his brother tried to pry as many details from Midoriya as he could. Midoriya managed to stand his ground against his brother, often coming with a cheeky comeback. He didn’t look out of place among them, which was weird. Shouto liked Midoriya, but he never imagined to actually see him fit in with his family so easily. Well, he wasn’t going to tell anyone that.

“I have to leave again,” Midoriya said after an hour or so. “Just wanted to check in on Shouto.”

Natsuo was grinning cheekily, and only Fuyumi managed to keep him in check. Shouto walked Midoriya to the door and waved him off. The moment he closed the door behind his back, Natsuo spoke up.

“So, when were you going to tell us that you have a boyfriend?”

His cheeks warmed up, “he isn’t my boyfriend.”

“Sure sure, you’re making moon-y eyes at him the whole time.”

“Natsuo, don’t be like that,” Fuyumi scolded. “Let him be. I’m not questioning about your girlfriend.”

“But I’m not keeping her a secret.”

Shouto sat back down on the couch, “Midoriya and I aren’t in a romantic relationship. We’re friends, and he was just checking in on me as he is a medic and a worrywart.”

“It’s good that you’re making friends,” Fuyumi said. “How much does Midoriya know? I know you’re trying to keep father all hush hush, but as he’s your friend…”

“He doesn’t know everything,” Shouto took a pear from the fruit basket. At least he had food for the next couple of days. “One day I will tell him.”

“One day,” Natsuo snorted. “When you’re forty, probably.”

~*~

He was quite sure this wasn’t a date, but he decided to call it a date. In his mind. Midoriya probably was thinking it was just a friendly outing, which it was.

“How’s training with Eraser Head going?” Shouto asked, trying to get a conversation going.

He had the sneaking suspicion that Midoriya purposely didn’t start talking so that Shouto was forced to. He tried it anyway, as he liked talking with Midoriya, and as soon he had started the conversation, Midoriya would pick up the rest. Midoriya was really good at carrying a conversation.

“Really good,” Midoriya said excitedly. “He even introduced me some heroes to fight against! I am surprised how… lacklustre some of their combat skills are.”

Shouto winced. They weren’t really good at hand-to-hand combat. They, as in, most pro heroes. They all relied on their quirks, aside from the ones with a passive quirk, like Hitoshi, and even Ochako had gotten some training. He easily belonged to the people who just used his quirk to win the fight and being physically fit.

“And I also met Present Mic, which was really cool. I didn’t know he and Eraserhead were friends, but they clearly are!”

“Have you met Eraserhead’s cats yet?”

Midoriya’s entire face lit up. “He has cats?”

“And kittens.”

It was like as if stars were sparkling in Midoriya’s eyes. Or, he could blame the flowery language on the fact that he had read too much poetry during college.

“Kittens.”

“I could take you to them? If you’re interested?”

“Of course I am. I mean, kit—”

Midoriya’s words were cut off my Shouto pulling him out of the way. A shot of ice blasted past them, coating everything in its path in snow and ice. Flecks of snow fluttered down in front of them, melting against the hot stone.

Pulling Midoriya behind him, he looked around the find the source of the attack. Ice Queen hadn’t even bothered to hide, standing in the middle of the road. Her costume was an icy (the pun) blue jumpsuit, her blond hair was tied up in a braid, and she was wearing an eye-mask, hiding most of her face.

He hoped that it was purely coincidence, like, previous attacks were all random. But he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t random, especially as she was staring straight at them, not bothering with the commotion around them. People were running, screaming and trying to get away from the villain, but she didn’t pay them no mind.

“Why is she here?” Midoriya asked, probably peeking over Shouto’s shoulder. “This is close to an agency if I recall correctly.”

Shouto swallowed nervously, “me, probably. There is a reason I got included in the investigation, despite that Uravity and Red Riot were already on it.”

Another blast of ice was sent their way, and Shouto countered it. He knew that he probably was going to win this if he didn’t use his fire, but he was afraid. Afraid that he would hurt other people, afraid that people would know who he was and that people would look differently at him. He liked to be anonymous, just another hero doing his job.

He had hoped that Ice Queen would be one of those monologuing villains, but she went straight to the point. Destroying Shouto.

Shoving Midoriya behind a wall of ice he conjured, he deflected Ice Queen’s attack. Freezing up the ground, Shouto zipped towards her. The further she was away from Midoriya, the better. If Midoriya was right and a hero agency was close by, it would mean that soon, other heroes would come to his aid.

Ice clashed and shattered, the temperature steadily dropping all around them. Shouto noticed that his body started to protest. He wasn’t in his hero costume, it was his day off after all. He didn’t have his temperature regulator with him, which helped him with his fluctuating temperature. His body clearly didn’t appreciate the cold.

“You don’t look well, Lukewarm,” Ice Queen sneered, shooting another blast of ice at him. He barely managed to dodge it. He was going to lose this fight if the backup didn’t come soon, or if he didn’t use his fire.

Shouto was surprised he managed for so long, as by the time he got hit his body was pretty much numb. He wondered how he graduated high school, but then he had to remind himself the four years in college was the reason he was on ‘light’ duty. No big villains, no dangerous missions. Even the mission to take in Ice Queen they had wanted to do with mainly Ochako and Kirishima, with Shouto as backup (and bait).

Skidding over the frozen ground as if he was a pebble, Shouto crashed painfully against a wall of ice. His ribs were throbbing, but he doubted that they were broken, as he managed to get up.

“How even are you standing?”

He had almost forgotten about Midoriya. He had assumed that Midoriya had fled already, as what seemed to be the logical thing to do. On the other hand, Midoriya was highly illogical and a little reckless. Probably came with the job, as you needed some nerve to go into the field and save lives.

“Willpower,” Shouto muttered, wheezing a little. Maybe not broken but they must be bruised. Tomorrow was going to be a bitch.

“Adrenaline probably,” Midoriya muttered. “We should wait for—”

Shouto knew he was the hero here, but the moment the blasted ice came towards them, Midoriya pushed him out of the way. Shouto managed to get out of the blast pretty unharmed, Midoriya, on the other hand, had half fallen, partially encased in ice. His face wasn’t covered, thankfully, which meant he could breathe.

He prepared himself for another attack, but nothing came. Ice Queen was walking towards him, carrying herself as if everything she had done had been easy. The ripped clothing, bloody cut on her cheek and messy hair told otherwise, but it was the confidence with she carrier herself that made her so striking.

“Lukewarm,” she drawled, looking like a cat playing with her favourite toy. “You might consider giving up. I have no interest in killing you, just defeating you. I even think the two of us could look good together.”

Shouto barely could contain his distaste.

“Not like that, you fool. Like working buddies, taking over the world, doing crime, getting rich.”

Still, it wasn’t really an option. He had no desire to become a criminal. Of course, it would be the ultimate fuck you towards his father, but becoming a villain would also mean he would cut all ties with his friends and he would forever live a life running from the authorities.

“I’m not particularly interested,” he said dryly, trying not to anger her further. He needed a plan to get out of here, safely.

“I can always blackmail you.” Ice Queen didn’t look all that calm and collected anymore. Clearly, she didn’t get a lot of ‘no’. “Clearly, I have the superior control over ice. Ice is my quirk, while yours is what, temperature control? I know you can melt my ice, but in no way or form quicker than I can crush your boyfriend.”

Shouto glanced at Midoriya’s still form. He hadn’t heard a word from Midoriya, and he was worried he was knocked out. On the other hand, maybe it was for the better.

What to do? He knew that Ice Queen was speaking the truth, that she would be faster than him. And he doubted she would be bluffing, she had sent plenty of people towards the hospital, some of them not surviving her attacks. And he would never let a civilian die, whenever he had an emotional connection to them or not. It was part of being a hero.

“Don’t be stupid.”

Both he and Ice Queen immediately turned their attention to Midoriya, who finally had shown sign of consciousness.

“Midoriya—”

“I know,” Midoriya said with determination. “I know you can win.”

It took Shouto a few ticks to realise what Midoriya was referring to. It was hard not to react, to not show the dread that had settled somewhere in his gut. How did Midoriya know? Shouto was quite sure he hadn’t accidentally dropped his surname somewhere, and he wasn’t particularly recognisable, not with his pink hair. Pink might not be a common colour, but neither was red and white split down the middle. However, assuming that Midoriya knew, knew that he was Todoroki Shouto, that also meant he knew about Shouto’s other quirk, his left side.

“Your boyfriend is the only one who has faith,” Ice Queen cackled. “Not even you look sure.”

Keeping his face neutral, unwilling to give away his inner turmoil, Shouto tried to take hold onto the side he hadn’t used in years, at least, not used on such a big scale. Feeling the familiar warmth spreading over his body, slowly balancing out his nature, Shouto knew that now would do just fine.

His left side catches fire, quickly spreading over all his body and leaping towards the ice. Ice Queen jumped back with a shout, her eyes huge with shock.

Struggling to keep the control on the flames, Shouto watched them spread, melting the ice and disappearing once their job was finished. Soon, the temperature had returned to normal, a layer of water laid on the street, slowly draining away into the sewers. He had expected Ice Queen to have run, but she just stood there frozen, her huge eyes staring at Shouto.

Then, the backup arrived. A dozen-or-so heroes flooded the street, looking around in amazement. Shouto’s flames might have gone, but they left plenty behind. Some cars showed scorch marks, the half-melted rocks of ice, the flood of water. Ice Queen was taken into custody quite easily. Whatever had driven her to fight now was gone, she looked like a broken woman.

He had wanted to talk with Midoriya, but they got separated during the arrest. Both had a different medic looking after them, and then they had to gave their statements, separately. Shouto just wanted to talk, not make a whole spectacle out of the situation.

A police officer was taking his statement, but when he got asked how he had managed to defeat the Ice Queen, he remained tight-lipped. He refused to talk about his quirk with a complete stranger. Thankfully, the detective that was put on this case released the police officer and took his place.

“I’m going to guess that the scorch marks are you doing?”

Shouto nodded. He didn’t like that the detective knew about his quirk, but he also knew that it was important to remain transparent. He wanted to save lives, and he didn’t want to put anyone in danger by keeping his quirk a secret.

“I’m surprised,” the detective admits. “I hadn’t expected you to ever use it again, especially so publicly. What changed?”

He couldn’t help but glance over at Midoriya, who was wrapped up in blankets and animatedly talking to an overwhelmed looking police officer.

“Ah, young love,” the detective said. Shouto tried to protest, but the detective fired the next question at him. “So, how did you defeat her? She didn’t have any burn marks on her.”

“She just gave up.”

The detective nodded, noted it down in a notebook and closed it. “Well, we’re done for the day. You might want to say hi to your boyfriend.”

And then Shouto was left alone with his thoughts and the ever-growing fear of having to face Midoriya again. On the other hand, why should he be afraid? Midoriya clearly knew who he was, yet he hadn’t acted any different around him. That meant he probably didn’t care.

Feeling a little more at ease, Shouto walked over to Midoriya. Midoriya too had wrapped up his interview, shaking the police officer’s hand before heading towards Shouto.

Midoriya raised his hand in greeting, “hey, how are—”

“I’m gay!” Shouto blurted out.

Nailed it.

~*~

When he confessed, Shouto had expected to have this grand, fairytale ending. Midoriya would confess his undying love for him, they would ride into the sunset on someone’s motorcycle (he imagined Midoriya would look cool on a motorcycle) and he would live happily ever after. They would eventually get married, Shouto would never have to see his father again, and they would grow old, surrounded by adopted cats.

His dreams were crushed when Midoriya didn’t announce his undying love but said a confused ‘okay’, follow by ‘I thought you knew I knew’, and that was that for the big confession. The ride into the sunset didn’t happen either. The sun was still high, basking on them when they were stuffed in a police car without air conditioning. Shouto was sweaty, and the only reason Midoriya clung to his right arm was that Shouto’s right arm was cold. The other two things still could happen, but first Midoriya had to announce his undying love. And maybe Shouto should have confessed in a more direct approach. Like: ‘I’m gay for you’. Which was a lie because Shouto was gay in general, Midoriya didn’t turn him gay, though it would have made for a cute story to tell their cats. Which they would never get because they were friends.

He was never going to tell any of his friends this, as they would all tell him that he’s a complete disaster. He didn’t want to agree with them, though it was definitely the truth. He was a disaster when it came to romancing someone.

The police officer dropped them off at Shouto’s apartment, which had to better a/c according to Midoriya. Shouto didn’t care all that much, he was exhausted, bruised and battered, both his body and his heart. (Maybe he should join a theatre group, after all, Momo always had said he was usually overly dramatic.)

And now, they were sitting on Shouto’s couch. A wide gap between them as if Midoriya feared to touch Shouto. Admittedly, Shouto also had settled down on the far end of the couch, hoping that the amount of open space was enough to tempt Midoriya not to sit next to him. It had worked.

“So,” Midoriya started, cutting through the silence. “You did great.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Midoriya to compliment him—a scolding seemed way more suitable.

Ignoring the butterflies in his stomach—Midoriya was really nice—Shouto attempted an awkward smile, “thanks, it was all because of you, honestly. If you hadn’t been there…”

“My friends say that I am the self-sacrificing idiot,” Midoriya said teasingly. “Clearly, they haven’t met you. Were you seriously considering changing sides to keep me safe?”

He wanted to say no, that it was just his job. But it wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. He was supposed to protect the civilians, that’s true, but the way he ran into combat with Ice Queen wasn’t anything close to what he was supposed to do. He should have kept her distracted, keep her going, going full defence until help arrived. He would have lasted, undoubtedly, but he had let his emotions rule, and his emotions wanted to keep Midoriya save. By keeping her occupied, she wouldn’t have the chance to focus on Midoriya, who was way too heroic to just run away.

“If you just would’ve run away,” Shouto grumbled, drawing up his knees against his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Midoriya had pursed his lips in annoyance but refused to answer. Fair, it was a bad argument. Midoriya was a field medic, he was ready to fight if necessary. He wouldn’t leave Shouto there to fight on his own, no medical support whatsoever. And, in the end, Midoriya probably had saved his life. Using his left side, his father’s side had levelled out his body temperature.

“I’m sorry, you were just doing your job.”

The words helped little to brighten Midoriya’s expression. Actually, he just seemed to look sadder.

“I know I was doing my job,” Midoriya mumbled, hugging a throw pillow. “But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do. We have a friendship, and that both clouded our judgement. I should have left knowing that I should leave it to the pros, but I couldn’t bare the thought of you getting hurt. I could have called in reinforcements, as at least I wasn’t panicking like most citizens. In the end, I was glad I stayed, but things might have played out differently if I wasn’t there to be a burden, to begin with.”

He still couldn’t blame Midoriya for the decision to stay, he probably would’ve done the same thing.

“How did you know?” Shouto asked, reaching out for his burn mark instinctively. “Who I was?”

Midoriya smiled apologetically, “well, I didn’t know from the get-go if you were afraid of that. It was just a combination of things. The fact that you were friends with quite some people from the famous class 1A, that Aizawa was your homeroom teacher and seeing we’re the same age, you either were in his class before the famous class 1A, or during that period, but, as you spent your school time in dorms, I figured you were in class 1A. I basically knew then that you most likely were Todoroki Shouto, as you used the same first name.”

“And the scar?”

“It didn’t really surprise me,” Midoriya shrugged. A warm flush darkened his cheeks.

He had forgotten that Midoriya was good at reasoning, making sense of things. It made sense for him that Yamada Shouto was actually Todoroki Shouto. It did surprise him though that Midoriya remembered him from his time at U.A.. He pretty much fell off the map after that, spending his time in college basically unknown. Well, more like he wasn’t involved with hero work during his college time aside from keeping fit.

“I’m surprised you can still remember me. Nowadays, there isn’t that much talk about the ‘legendary class 1A’.”

Now Midoriya was blushing darkly all over his face, his many freckles standing out.

Hugging the pillow even closer, Midoriya smiled bashfully at him, “Ground Zero is an old childhood friend of mine, so I followed his progress to U.A.. It was hard not to notice the rest of the class and...” If Midoriya had been shirtless, Shouto probably could’ve seen the blush extending down his neck. “I kinda had this huge crush on you.”

Old Shouto: 1
New Shouto: 0

Somehow, broody, angsty Shouto who struggled with social interaction and didn’t quite felt being in control of his own body had been attractive for Midoriya. Which mean that current Shouto, who had gotten better at just, humans in general, and who felt surer of himself, who was better at letting his past go (through the fire thing was still an issue, but he would get there, eventually), had no chance. He was competing against his past self.

Midoriya looked terrified, but for whatever reason just started to talk again. He just could’ve left it at that, letting everything sink in and let Shouto take his sweet time figuring it all out.

“Young me had a crush on someone he barely knew and just saw on television, or read news articles about,” Midoriya pressed on, looking determined. “And current me thinks that’s idiotic because I met the real deal and it’s so much better. You’re a cool and strong hero, but more importantly, you’re a brilliant person, and I love every second I spend with you. And even if my stupidly ridiculous feelings aren’t returned, I’m still happy to call you my friend.”

It took him way too long to realise what Midoriya was actually saying. Like, Shouto was quite sure he had stared at Midoriya for an actual, solid minute, the gears in his head trying to get into motion, trying to process what Midoriya had told him.

“You… think of me as a good friend?”

Midoriya started long and hard at him, a frown creased between his eyebrows, “I’m not sure if you’re serious or not.”

Then it clicked. Did Midoriya seriously? No fucking way. But he had just admitted it. “You have romantic feelings.” Shouto pointed to himself. “For me.”

“I know it’s ridiculous,” Midoriya said, and he sounded heartbroken. “I mean, you must have many guys fawning over you, and it isn’t like I make a difference.”

Shouto frowned, trying to recall the last time someone tried to ask him out, or flirt with him. All he could remember was Kaminari before Kaminari knew who he was. Admittedly, he couldn’t really recall that Midoriya had been flirting with him, he was just kind, being himself. At least, Shouto assumed that Midoriya had been acting like himself the whole time.

“I can’t—I don’t know… really.” Shouto swallowed nervously, trying to get his words out. Why was this so hard? “I’m surprised.” He settled on. “That you like me-me, and not the other me, the...”

The son of the first placed hero in Japan, son of Endeavour, that beautiful cool guy who probably was a good lay. Rarely it had been just ‘Shouto’. Shouto outside his hero-grab, outside the limelight and without the connections to his father.

“I told you that I first like the other you.” Midoriya put air-quotes between ‘other you’. “But I’m happy that I got the know the real you, get to know Shouto.”

He could get hurt by just going for it, risking the fact that Midoriya was using him after all. But nothing had yet to indicate that. His name hadn’t popped up in the tabloids, his identity hadn’t been revealed out of nowhere. Midoriya never pushed other heroes, Shouto was the one to introduce them, because he cared about Midoriya and wanted him to meet the people he was close to.

“When, when I stupidly announced I was gay,” Shouto started, ignoring the embarrassment that grew inside him. “I was trying to say I like you, a lot, and that I am really scared because my last relationship was shit and I am always scared that I will be used because of who my father is, despite that we aren’t even on good terms.”

The happiness on Midoriya’s face was worth it. He didn’t look smug, as his boyfriend had done when Shouto had said yes.

~*~

He rarely saw Yamada and Aizawa unless he visited them, so Yamada dropping by at his hero agency was a surprise. The guy was in his full hero get-up, so the two coworkers he shared his space with immediately recognised him.

“No more English tests, please,” Kaminari almost cried, falling on his knees and almost begging. “I promise that I’ve improved, really. No need for tests anymore.”

Yamada looked mostly amused, shaking his head laughing, “Kaminari, I’m not your teacher anymore, remember? You graduated, you passed English.”

Thankfully, Kaminari got up, trying to brush it off, “knew that, of course. I—my English has improved, but mostly because of the internet.”

Or to quote Sero, Kaminari had invested himself into knowing meme culture, mostly American meme culture, to become the ‘meme lord’. It had improved his English greatly, but most words he knew were internet slang that confused most of his friends. Only Sero seemed to be able to fluently speak and understand Kaminari.

“Hello, Mic, sir,” Tokage said, waving from when she was sitting. “What brings you here?”

“Shouto here, of course,” Yamada said as if it was obvious.

Kaminari knew a little about his odd relationship with Aizawa and Yamada, but Tokage, who was in class B, didn’t know. Unless Itsuka had told her, but he almost doubted it. Itsuka herself didn’t even really know what was going on between him and two of his ex-teachers. So her quizzical look was to be expected.

“He’s my son, what parent doesn’t visit their son?”

Kaminari burst out laughing, sobbing within minutes. Tokage looked even more confused, but Shouto didn’t pay much attention to his coworkers. Instead, he was trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

“I’m not your son, I borrowed your surname. That’s something different,” Shouto protested, though the words fell short.

“You might as well be my son, you visit us more than either Tenya or Hitoshi.”

Shouto wondered if he had to call an ambulance, as Kaminari just made a choking noise, but that might him just laughing too much to properly breathe.

“That explains why you studied English Literature of all things,” Tokage pointed out. “I always wondered why, but if you’re basically related to Present Mic—”

“— I just borrowed his surname,” Shouto protested.

“Studying English seems to make sense. But who are Hitoshi and Tenya? The names sound familiar.”

Shouto refused to answer her, and Yamada was kind enough not to do so either, but Kaminari had recovered enough to say a breathy ‘Iida’ and ‘Shinso’. Tokage nodded in appreciation.

Finally, the noise settled, though Kaminari was still snickering in his hand, trying to hide his smile from Shouto’s frown.

“Sorry for causing such a ruckus,” Yamada apologised. “I just wanted to ask,” this time, he focused on just Shouto. “If you will be there for Tenya’s birthday dinner? It’s not on his birthday, that day is hogged by his real family, but we wanted to do something small.”

“Sure,” Shouto answered. He had planned to throw Tenya a surprise party. Well, Ochako and Tsuyu had planned it, and he and Hitoshi had been roped into it. But joining family dinner wasn’t the worst. He hadn’t seen them all in a while anyway.

“Would you mind if I bring someone along?”

Before Yamada could answer, Kaminari butted in, a big grin on his face. “You finally asked Midoriya out?”

“Midoriya? Was that the guy you were mooning over?” Tokage was equally as excited Kaminari, her eyes shiny. “I can’t believe he confessed.”

“Why don’t you think I confessed.”

Both Kaminari and Tokage stared at him, and it seemed that Yamada struggled to keep his expression composed.

Shouto sighed. “He did.”

Yamada cleared his throat, trying not to look too eager, “you can bring your boyfriend along.”

~*~

T. Shouto: I’m PANICKING
T. Shouto: I don’t know what to do
T. Shouto: I will be losing my boyfriend in one week

U. Ochako: What did you do???
U. Ochako: Did you say something stupid???
U. Ochako: You probably did

T. Shouto: we were kissing

U. Ochako: the end of the world

T. Shouto: I’m getting there
T. Shouto: He’s a really good kisser
T. Shouto: I like kissing him
T. Shouto: And then he shoved a tongue my throat

U. Ochako: oh dear
U. Ochako: you haven’t told him???

T. Shouto: I don’t want to lose him

U. Ochako: Oh baby
U. Ochako: just tell him, and he will understand it
U. Ochako: or I will kick his ass

T. Shouto: Thank you
T. Shouto: I will try

~*~

“So, where are you taking me?” Midoriya asked, his eyes bright.

Shouto swallowed nervously. He had hoped that Midoriya wouldn’t ask and blindly trust Shouto, but he clearly didn’t. Admittedly, this could have been classified as their third date, if it was actually a date.

“Shouto?”

He grimaced, realising that Midoriya had figured it out. Or, at least, he knew that there was something up.

“My family, second family, is celebrating a birthday and, well...”

“Shouto, is our date meeting the family?”

“Technically, you’ve met at least over half of them, and only Hitoshi is a real arse, Tenya is fine. But yes.”

Midoriya groaned, burying his face into his hands. “They will hate me.”

Knowing that Midoriya liked physical reassurance, hugs, kisses, small touches, so Shouto gently touched Midoriya’s cheek. They were standing in the middle of the pavement, but for whatever reason, it was totally deserted.

“They will love you. They have a knack of adopting people anyway, you will fit right in.”

Midoriya pressed a kiss on the inside of Shouto’s wrist, almost hesitantly.

“I won’t break, you know?”

Midoriya put on a reluctant smile, “I don’t want to scare you again.”

“Now you know, and I should have told you, just like you told me your bee allergy.”

“Yeah, but I am only mildly allergic. I shoved my tongue down your throat, and you fled. I thought you had escaped through the window and would never come back, despite that it was your home.”

Shouto cupped Midoriya’s face and kissed his forehead, nose and lips. “And I told you I am sorry. Like I said, I should have told you.”

Midoriya happily kissed him back before pulling him into a hug.

“I expected to catch Kaminari for public indecency, not you.”

Shouto immediately recognised Hitoshi’s voice. He at least was glad that he didn’t catch them kissing—hugging wasn’t too bad unless you were a prude like Hitoshi (Hitoshi wasn’t a prude, just a little shit that was out for payback since Shouto liked to tease Hitoshi all the time about his weird relationship with Tenya).

“Last time I checked hugging isn’t public indecency.”

He let go of Midoriya and turned to face him… half-brother? Step-brother? Vague cousin? He never knew what exactly his relationship with Hitoshi was. It was more friendship-like, though it often felt more like he had a terrible older brother. Hitoshi and Natsuo probably could get along like a house on fire.

“Good to see you,” Shouto said.

The two pulled each other in an awkward embrace. Tenya was much better at giving hugs than either of them were.

“Same,” Hitoshi grunted. “So now you two are dating?” He gestured to Midoriya.

Midoriya opened his mouth to answer, but Shouto slapped his hand on Midoriya’s mouth and glared at Hitoshi.

“Really?”

Hitoshi shrugged, “it’s always fun.”

“What’s fun?”

“Hitoshi has a mind control quirk. By answering his question, he can make you do what he wants.”

Instead of being put off, Midoriya seemed to find renewed excitement, “ooh, I know who you are, I think. You’re Somnus, right?”

Hitoshi nodded in surprise, “Shouto, keep this one. But I have to hurry because I had to get the rest of the fucking groceries dad forgot.”

Shouto hadn’t even noticed the plastic bags he was carrying. He was glad he didn’t have to run errands for Aizawa.

Hitoshi slapped Shouto’s back and left in half a jog, half a run.

“Did he just approved me?”

Shouto nodded, not realising how much tension lifted from his shoulder. He had been worried, unreasonably so, but still.

“Is your second family like all heroes?”

Shouto nodded.

“How will I ever fit in?”

Shouto looked at Midoriya, looked at his smile, his freckles, the nervous but excited look on his face.

“Like I said, you will fit right in. They probably will disown Hitoshi and me and adopt you instead.”

“But isn’t Hitoshi their adoptive son?”

“Watch them try.”

Midoriya’s laugh rang loud and clear, and Shouto fell a little more in love.