Chapter Text
School without Izuku, now that he has to forget all that happened over his short lived Ogygia, is close enough to agony to where he has to toss and turn in his bed— his empty bed, that is— without hope of sleep.
He’d never been bothered by it before, which makes it the more strange. He had gotten comfortably used, previous to their escapade, to Izuku’s absence at the end of the day. His heart would sink and loneliness would flood through his room, but he’d go to sleep, wake up the next day and do it all again.
He lays on his bed a week after they’d started classes again, staring straight up as he lays in his dorm room bed sheets. There is no body next to him. There is no one to come out of his bathroom door with a smile and sparkles in his eyes. There is no one to steal his shirt in the mornings and no one to tease him over his bed-head.
He stands up in silence, head aching and spinning before he pulls on a pair of pants and a night shirt. If he can’t sleep this off then he might as well go have something to eat; maybe play one of the video games that Kaminari had been so adamant in spending their precious class funds on.
His feet land softly on the cold linoleum floor with each precariously measured step he takes, quietly traveling through the halls in such a way where he won’t make a noise. Everyone must be asleep. He passes by Uraraka’s room, lights still on and can’t help but wonder what she must be up to. He remembers Midoriya had said something about going shopping with her. Oh, yes. He’d declined the invitation to go with them. And he’d also declined the invitation to watch movies with her and the others, mostly out of fear for what he would do with Midoriya so close to him at such a late hour and with his head half in the clouds.
He’s startled out of his meticulous routine with a voice behind him
“You should be asleep,” he hears, and flinches in reaction.
He turns around to see the one and only Hitoshi Shinsou, half sunk into and partially parasitic to the couch. His eyes barely peek out of the blanket he lays under, until he pulls his whole body out of the mound of fabric and stares at Shouto with tired eyes.
“And you should be in your own building,” quips Shouto. He hears a scoff and a partial laugh.
“Had training with Aizawa and collapsed on the couch earlier today. Everyone just kind of forgot about me,” he shrugs. “And your guys’ coffee machine works far better than ours.”
“Does it? I think it works pretty bad.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up from your upper-class throne.”
“Whatever. I’ll be using my upper-class privilege to make myself some tea. Do you want anything?”
“I’d be honored if your highness could perhaps consider making a peasant like myself a cup of black coffee.”
“Sure. Whatever.”
He gets to making the drinks as he idly listens to Shinsou tap away at his dimly-lit screen, the sound of the boiling kettle— electrical kettle, that is— and the coffee machine simultaneously going off in the background.
He sits down next to Shinsou once it’s done, enough distance in between them to set down a small tray (acquired on Momo’s insistence also with their precious class funds) with the two cups on it: Shouto’s own plain white cup and Kaminari’s purple with bright yellow sparkles “replacement cup,” which everyone knew was just Shinsou’s cup with a fancy name.
He takes short sips of his drink, barely letting the liquid filter through his teeth in the silence of the room. Shinsou sets down his own cup with a light clink .
“So,” says Shinsou, “what brings you here at such late hours of the night. Early hours of the morning? Whichever one it is. What brings you here?”
“Can’t sleep,” says Shouto.
Shinsou laughs.
“Yes, I gathered that much. But you don’t seem like the type to be an insomniac,” says Shinsou. His fingers trace the top of his mug as he stares at the remaining coffee in it.
“I’ve just been plagued by thoughts, is all,” says Shouto, which is probably too much already. Shinsou perks up in curiosity. “Nothing more.”
“And what, pray tell, could cause the son of the Number 1 Hero to be plagued by thoughts so late at night?”
“I feel like you’re prying too much into this,” says Shouto. The other boy simply smiles coyly.
“You’re gonna tell me anyway. You know you are.”
“And I don’t even know why. It’s not like we’re close friends.”
“Are we not?”
And he’s right to a degree. Shinsou is someone he is… well acquainted with. Someone who he only knows in a context like this. He doesn’t really know what to call these. Late night talks? Something akin to that. Meetings that had started out of pure chance and that had developed into something similar to genuine friendship. A mutual understanding of each other whenever they had the occasional meeting. Very casual, very odd and far apart.
And yet… here he is. SItting next to Shinsou. Spilling all his secrets and thoughts. And strangely enough this is not the first occasion.
He shrugs and lightly reaches to poke Shinsou.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“So,” says Shinsou. “What’s bothering you?”
Shouto taps his fingers against the porcelain of his own mug, scratching his fingernails on it.
“You know Izuku, yes?”
“What kind of question is that? Yes, I know Midoriya. Who doesn’t?”
Shouto smiles.
“I spent our break with him.”
“You did? Which day? Where did you go?”
Shouto stays silent for a second. He reaches for Shinsou’s hand and makes him look into his eyes.
“Shinsou. I spent all of break with him.”
“You what?!” he whisper-yells.
“Long story short, his mom was out of town and I accidentally told my dad I had a boyfriend so I asked Izuku to be my fake boyfriend and he spent the week at my house.”
“Again, you what?! ”
Shinsou gapes at him and blinks rapidly a few times.
“You are. So stupid. ”
“Thanks, newfound close friend,” replies Shouto.
“Why ever would you do that? Why didn’t you ask me?”
“First, because I didn’t know we were friends until 5 minutes ago, and also, my father would kill me for bringing back someone from General Education,” replies Shouto. “Also, why would I ask you ?”
Shinsou raises his eyebrows at him in amusement.
“Because unlike Midoriya, you don’t have a mind-boggling, nauseating, tooth-rutting, disgusting crush on me. Or at least I hope you don’t or else this is about to become a veeeeery uncomfortable conversation.”
“I- Did everybody know about my crush on him before I did?”
Shinsou falls silent and blinks at him a few times again.
“Are you telling me you just realized you have a crush on him? And that it only happened because you were basically living together?”
“Yeah. Pretty much.”
“You are so fucking stupid. ”
“I liked you more when we weren’t officially friends.”
“Too bad, so sad. Cope.”
Shinsou swishes what’s left of his coffee before downing it all and standing back up from the couch, stretching lightly. He walks towards the still half-full coffee pot and begins to pour himself some more.
“So. What’s the problem? You have a crush on Midoriya, so what?”
“I- What do I do?”
He can hear the sound of the splashing liquid in Shinsou’s mug over his own whispers of panic.
“Easy,” says Shinsou. “You tell him.”
Shouto is brought back by a wave of emotions that hits him
“I- Sorry?”
“You have to tell him. It’s the only way to get your heart to settle down.”
Shouto scoffs in his direction.
“That sounds terrible. What if he doesn’t wanna be friends after? What if he hates me and never talks to me again?” asks Shouto. “And what would you know about romance anyways?”
“Hey! My being aroace has nothing to do with my ability to give romantic advice. If anything, it makes me more capable since I’m not biased.”
“That sounds like a stupid theory.”
“You sound like a stupid theory,” quips Shinsou.
“What?”
“Either way,” continues Shinsou, “you have to tell Izuku how you feel. Would you rather he reject you now and work it out later-”
“That sounds terrifying. You suck at this.”
“ Or … would you rather watch him get married knowing maybe, if you’d been brave enough, you might’ve had a chance if only you’d told him how you feel?
“Oh… I hadn’t thought of that.”
Shinsou sets his cup down on the counter and flops lazily on the couch.
“Just food for thought, loverboy,” he says. Shouto rolls his eyes at him before Shinsou begins to kick at Shouto’s thigh with his foot.”Now scram unless you’re staying down here.”
“No thank you.”
“Okay well, I’ll see you some other night?”
“Until next time. I have to tell Izuku I’m not a licensed official.”
“Wait, what-”
But Shouto is too far gone to hear Shinsou’s cry of exasperation.