Archive of Our Own

You bite down on your bottom lip. Sweat glistens against your skin; you feel it pooling in your lower back. The tingling vibrations of your atoms speeding up send sparks through your body. Your heart rate is off the charts, your head is being fogged up with exhilaration.

“Come on, (Y/N), we should slow down.”

“No,” you take a greedy gulp of air, “I’m close.”

And you are. Your thighs are starting to tremble. Shit, you’re at your limit, but you’re so close and hell if you’re backing out before finishing. You push through the fatigue until you reach that precipice. It feels the same as the last few times, diving headfirst into the feeling your fingers curl into fists, and suddenly you’re somewhere else. You call it the expanse, the placeholder still makes you cringe, but you haven’t figured out a better moniker. You flex your fingers and your toes and concentrate on solidifying your surroundings. If you’re going to orientate, you need boundaries your brain can understand. Your feet land on “ground,” and you take a moment to collect your bearings. Clothes that you’d brought in past trips still exist, no wear or tear. The food, too, seems to not have spoiled. Fascinating. You continue exploring and find that, like it was with all your previous trips, this space has no beginning or end. Taking a breath, you envision a door opening up in front of you. When it appears, you grin and walk through it.

You blink away the dryness of your eyes, focusing on the figure squatting in front of you. When they come into focus, you smile. It broadens when you notice the worry in the creases of their forehead.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” You laugh.

“What? Can’t a girl enjoy exploring her talents?

He doesn’t respond, and that makes you all the more gleeful. He offers you a hand after straightening up. You take it and give it a soft squeeze.

“You know, for someone who got butt ass naked in front of a class of first years, you sure are a prude now.” 

“That was years ago, completely different, and besides the point.” He holds up a finger for each explanation.

“Sure.” He ignores you, handing off a bottle of water and some protein snack packs. You inhale them. Entering the expanse is a massive drain of energy.

“So what was it like this time?”

You describe what you saw and the state of the items you’d left behind.

“And the door?”

“Walked through it and was able to explore my local surroundings. You’d be surprised the mischief old ladies get into in the middle of the day.” You both laugh, and you continue your debrief.

“It was as easy peasy as the last handful of times I’ve visited. Though I have to say Togata, it was kind of scary, ya know? I don’t know how this works and how far I can go before, I don’t know, severing my connection to myself.” You shiver at the thought.

“I get it. Permeating through things was terrifying while I was getting a handle on my quirk. Different because I was always me, but still not being solid is a mind trip.” He pats your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“How long was I gone?”

“Almost a half-hour.”

“Holy shit. No wonder you were scared.” You rush over to where he’s started unpacking and envelope him in a hug.

“What a great hero,” you start to teasingly pepper his face and everything within reach in kisses, “and friend to worry about my wellbeing. I owe you a million, Lemillion.” He squirms in your grasp, stifling his giggles, ultimately permeating through your body and out of your reach.

“Jeez,” he fixes his ruffled hair, “are you always this bubbly after you. . . you know?”

“Orgasm?” He smiles sheepishly.

“I’m not actually orgasming, per se. Just tricking my body into thinking it is. All simple chemical reactions, easily manipulated and duplicated.”

“You really could’ve made a killer living as a scientist, you know that, right (Y/N)?”

You shrug nonchalantly.

“Being a Hero has always been a dream. I volunteer at clinics when I can and sometimes get invited to consult on different medical issues. Honestly, the way my life is set up now is preferable. I can’t imagine having a typical eight-hour job.”

“What was it like when your quirk manifested?” Togata turns back around, holding three items. You groan when you realize what they’re for. He tosses one to you. You catch it with your left hand with a grimace.

“It was grueling. We knew I could alter my own atomic structure, but once it was clear I could alter the structure of anything I touched, I was taking night classes at the local cram school the whole of my middle school career. Then the nearest university once I entered high school. Do you know how painfully intricate understanding the chemical bonds that create matter is? I should have an honorary degree in human physiology and physics at the very least.”

“Cute humblebrag.” You smile cheekily though it slips off as you bare your teeth in frustration. Togata walks over to you, grabs the foam block, and activates his quirk. Within seconds the block passes through his hand and hits the floor.

“Would you look at that?”

His smile disappears as you kick his legs out from under him, his back hits the floor, but before you can pin him, he’s permeating out of your reach. You quickly kick your shoes off, awkwardly rolling your feet out of your socks when he reappears. Togata lunges, and you lurch backward, haphazardly erecting obstacles from the mats on the floor. You take a gamble as he permeates through the last obstacle. As soon as his first foot touches the ground, you grab hold of his calf, yanking it up.

He’s a second too slow, and you manage to throw him off balance, but he catches himself and changes angles, so he lands on the side, his right leg stretching out and connecting with your gut. You suck in a breath of air as he disappears again. When he reappears, he’s traveling at high speed, his pointer finger locked onto your left eye. You know this faint. You brace for your inevitable flinch and the fist that he’s aiming at your stomach. It never comes. Instead, at the last moment, his finger curls under his thumb and flicks you. The force snaps your head back, and you stumble backward, dazed, blinking away the tears and managing to grab hold of the tip of his finger. So that’s how we’re going to play? We’re ending this. You close your eyes, concentrating on the pulse of electricity in his body even as you fall. Phase through this — electricity sparks from where you’ve got his finger in a vice grip, traveling up his arm. Sure he can phase through matter, but the flow of electrons in his own body? You land awkwardly and have no time to adjust before Togata’s body crushes you. Without thinking, you lift your hips using the momentum to flip him onto his back and pinning him with an elbow at his throat, and using your knees to lock him in place under you.

“Now, would you look at that.”

“I think my heart stopped for a second there.”

“Glad you’re still with us. I’d hate to explain your accidental murder over a pissing contest to the Commission.” He laughs, and you slide off him, taking a seat on the floor. You watch him massage the finger you’d used as your point of access to his body. It looks a little singed.

“Can I?”

He gives you his finger, and you open your mouth. He looks away as you let your saliva do its thing. You dry his finger off on your shoulder. 

“You’re such a baby.”

“It’s weird okay? Normal people don’t go around licking or putting other people’s injured limbs in their mouths.”

“Pfft, normal? Have you seen our society? And you know, when I’m on the clock, I use a spray bottle. I am a professional .”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” You shrug. He helps you stand, and you make your way over to the forgotten foam block. He grabs the remaining two objects, a block of rubber and wood, from where they’ve been forgotten on the bench.

“You can phase through the foam (Y/N). I know you can.” You squint your eyes in concentration. Trying to will your hand and the atoms that make it up to tunnel past the foam block resting in your palm.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Quantum physics.” Togata barks out a laugh in surprise.

“Seriously? You’re thinking about physics right now?”

“Quantum physics, and yes, it’s the only way I can make sense of what I need to do.” He shakes his head and lays one of his hands atop the block.

“That’s not going to work. You can’t make this make sense. Quirks, by their virtue, don’t make sense. So instead of trying to science your way through the block, let go.”

“Let go?”

“Simple.” You wet your lips and try to let go. It’s more complicated than it sounds. Ever the caregiver, your friend picks up on your mounting frustration.

“When are you most free?”

“While I’m laughing.” The response is instinctive, and once you hear it, you can’t help but think of a blonde man and frogs. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Then try and make yourself laugh.” You nod your head.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“With your quirk, you can literally rearrange someone’s guts. That’s pretty kinky, huh?”

You can’t even wait for his answer as Togata’s eyes go wide, pulling his eyebrows into his hairline and his mouth gapes. The laugh bursts out of you, and your abdomen tightens as your mirth shakes your body. Your shoulders pull up to your ears as you let the bouts of laughter roll you forward. You’re too caught up in Togata’s expression and the conflict playing out across his face to even realize that the foam block’s phased through your palm. You really wanted to know the answer now.

It’s been a week since your breakdown in front of Izuku. For his part, he went back to normal as though nothing had gone amiss. You took a little longer to stop walking on eggshells, the little voice in your head screaming that there’s no way he’d really be cool with everything. That’s why you find yourself hovering around your boyfriend, who is trying to prep for dinner. With a sigh through his nose, he sets down the knife, pushing the sliced bell pepper further up on the cutting board before he turns to face you — his face all the permission you need.

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“What has been my answer since you’ve started asking?”

“That it doesn’t bother you.” You mumble, feeling embarrassed for having asked again.

“So,” he goes back to slicing, “it would then stand that if my answer has stayed the same, it’s still the same now, right?”

“I guess, but babe, how ? I’ve got the hots for someone that’s not you, and you’re totally chill! It feels suspect.”

“I trust you.”

You frown. Trust. Do you deserve it? You guess time will tell. You sneak a slice of bell pepper when Izuku isn’t looking before heading to the living room.

“Let me know if you need help.” He responds with a ‘hn,’ too busy aggressively cleaning the caps of mushrooms.

You plop down on the couch, turning on the TV. You’re in the middle of surfing for something to watch when your phone chimes. You pull the device from your pocket and open the message. Sweat starts to coat your palms. You glance around as if you’re doing something shady before typing a reply. But you don’t hit send; instead, you delete the message and toss your phone across the couch and out of reach. You need a drink. Once again, you find yourself in the kitchen sipping on melon soda, trying your damnedest to forget what you’d just read. You turn and watch Izuku exit the bathroom and make his way towards you.

“Why aren’t you getting ready?” You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows.

“Eijiro asked you to hang out, didn’t he?” Now you straighten up and give your boyfriend a critical stare.

“I don’t understand how you know this, considering I never told you.”

“Well, he asked me first if it was okay, and I said yes.”

“So you agreed for me?” You set your glass down to cross your arms, feeling yourself getting more agitated by the second. Picking up on your mounting annoyance, Izuku waves a hand as if clearing the air of the miscommunication.

“No, no, no. I might be your boyfriend, but I don’t make your decisions. I just said that it was fine with me for him to ask you to hang out. I think with everything that happened between you and Kacchan, he didn’t want to step on my toes or make you feel like he was doing something dishonest.”

You sit quietly, digesting his explanation.

“You think I should go?”

“I don’t see why not.” You try to not make a face, but you feel your forehead furrow and your lips pursing.

“I just,” you rub your eyes, giving your face a squeeze, “I can think of so many reasons why I shouldn’t go, and you’re standing there telling me it’s fine. Izuku, you do understand why I’m baffled, right?”

“(Y/N), it’s just dinner.”

“It was just drinks with Katuski, and we see how that ended.” You narrow your eyes.

“Are you trying not to smile right now!”

“No.” He turns his back to you, and you release an exasperated huff.

“Fine, be that way. I’ll go, and I’ll have a shitton of fun, how ’bout that!”

“Glad we’re finally on the same page.” You throw your hands up, marching out of the kitchen, the sound of Izuku’s soft laughter following you into the hallway.

You pace from side to side anxiously. As the seconds tick by, you can feel your flight response swelling. You’ve got to get out of here. Before you can put your plan into motion, the door opens, and the smile that greets you melts the worry right off your shoulders. It’s like watching the sun peek out of the clouds after a storm. You raise the two bags at your sides.

“I brought beer!”

Eijiro’s smile grows even more. He steps aside so you can finally enter the apartment. You take off your shoes, slipping into a guest pair of slippers.

“I couldn’t remember what your preferred brand was, so I bought Yebisu and Asahi Super Dry. Hope that’s okay.”

“I’m not complaining (Y/N); your company would’ve been enough for me.”

You feel heat bloom across your cheeks, and you dip your head to hide your reaction. Once you’ve got yourself together, you follow the redhead to his kitchen. You can’t help but admire his back. The outline of his shoulders through his t-shirt is a great distraction from the nervous thumping of your heart. Eijiro passes you an apron when you reach the kitchen, and you tie it around your waist. He throws his apron over his head, and while he’s tying it behind himself, you take a moment to read what it says. You start to choke. One hand comes to pound against your chest; the other grips the lip of the counter for support. Eijiro stops what he’s doing and comes over, face pinched in worry.

“(Y/N), can you talk? Say something, please.”

“I. . .,” you clear your throat, breathing through your nose, “what the fuck is up with your apron Eiji.” He blinks, confused, before looking down to read his apron. It’s his turn to splutter.

“Shit, (Y/N), I am so embarrassed. Oh geez. Katsuki was supposed to swap out the aprons for more guest-appropriate ones. I guess he forgot. . .” You take a breath and look down at the apron you’ve got on. You can’t hold back your snort. In all bold capital letters, it says, ‘I’ll feed all you fuckers.’ There’s no doubt who this apron belongs to, which makes the fact that the apron Eiji is wearing actually his all the more titillating.

“So, um, are we cooking any meat?” You try to keep a straight face but fail spectacularly. The situation demands your laughter, so you both laugh thunderously. When he catches his breath, there are small tears tucked into the creases of his eyes and his cheeks are a brilliant shade of red. Eijiro shakes his head.

“No. No meat. We’re making pizza.”

He walks over to the end of the counter and waves for you to join him. You find a bowl covered in plastic wrap, bulging with dough. He unwraps the bowl, and even though it’s just dough, it smells delicious. You eye him as he reaches down, pulling open a vertical drawer and grabbing a wooden pastry board. He sets it next to the bowl on the counter, sprinkling it generously with flour before turning out the dough and sprinkling its top with more flour.

As he kneads the dough, you guiltily admire the way his biceps and forearms flex. You’d never thought kneading dough would be so hot, and yet here you stand biting your bottom lip in delight. You are so going to the bad place. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, the pain dissipates the wayward thoughts. Focusing back into the now, Eijiro has cut the dough into four and is rolling them into neat balls. There’s definitely more dough than you need.

“What are you going to do with all the extra?”

“Oil them and then put ’em in freezer bags to save for later.” You nod, walking closer to the redhead.

“Hey, Eiji?”

“Yeah?” He looks up in your direction, you swipe a finger across his nose, painting it white. He snorts in surprise, and you muffle a giggle.

“You’ve got something,” you tap the tip of your nose with a clean finger, “right there.” He narrows his eyes playfully, and you fake ignorance.

“Well, you’ve got something right here.” A sturdy finger taps against your chest. You look down, confused. The flick is gentle, but you still wrinkle your nose and shake your head. Eijiro’s laugh isn’t loud, but it’s rich. Like being covered by a weighted blanket. Your smile crinkles your eyes and pulls your mouth wide. With him, it’s easy. No second-guessing yourself.

“Are we topping the pizza now?”

“It’s got to rise for another hour.” You groan, letting your head fall back dramatically.

“You’re trying to starve me!”

“I’m not the one who can break down everything in this apartment for energy.”

“Blegh. Been there, done that, never again.”

“You say that now.” You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes and turning to a cupboard you know is filled with snacks.

You move your fingers expertly. Pleasure swells in your chest as vibrations travel up your arms. You lick your lips and take a deep breath to focus. You’ve got this. Up. Back. Roll. Repeat. Color erupts across your vision. You shout with unrestrained joy, letting out a loud breath.

“I came first!”

“It was hardly fair!”

“Please, it’s not my fault you didn’t know yourself better.” You shoot Eijiro a cheeky grin; he ignores you, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Oh, don’t be a pouty pants. Next time I’ll help you.” You pop a Happy Turn into your mouth, enjoying the way the salty sweetness explodes across your tastebuds. The couch creaks as Eijiro stands, stretching his hands above his head before resting them at his hips.

“Katsuki’s not going to be happy about losing his top spots.”

“Well, at least he’s still number one in your heart.” Eijiro chuckles before starting back towards the kitchen. You set the controller on the coffee table and follow him.

“Now, let’s make some pizza.”

After setting up the dough back on the pastry board, Eijiro steps aside and looks at you expectantly. You end up having an impromptu staring contest because you have no intention of getting anywhere near that dough. Begrudgingly you’re the first to blink, so you take your place in front of the board.

“I take it you want me to stretch the dough.”

“Yup.” You sigh and flex your fingers. You begin by poking the dough just to get a feel for things. Cupping your hands, you place them in the middle and push them out. The dough stays put, and you try again. You can feel Eijiro watching, his amusement at your stare down with this inanimate thing palpable. Finally, you look to your side for help but find Eijiro has disappeared from where you’d last seen him.

“Eiji —” Goosebumps break out down your arms, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Arms snake around your body, warm hands enveloping where yours rest frozen.

“You can be rough, you know. It’s just dough.”

“Okay.” The last syllable is barely audible. Your mind is currently too preoccupied with the feeling of the man behind you to worry about enunciation. His chest presses against your shoulder blades, his abdomen touches your back, and oh, God. You try to angle your hips forward, but it’s too uncomfortable to hold for long. If you weren’t worried about collapsing to the floor, you would have just blocked the neurotransmitters to your lower half because the last thing you need is accidentally rubbing your ass up against his. . . You shake your head and settle with keeping everything below your hips as still as possible. You’re just friends. Just friends. Friends. Even if things are seemingly veering into not just friends’ water. Eijiro guides your hands. In the same cup position, you push out from the middle to the sides, returning to the center to push out top to bottom. After doing that a few times, you see the dough is slowly stretching out into a recognizable form. The warmth of him from being behind you ebbs as you grow more confident. You use your fingers to pull and rotate the dough. Once satisfied, you dust your hands off on your apron. You look to your right to find Eijiro at your side once more.

“Looking good (Y/N)!” You smile proudly.

“Right? I’ve got magic fingers.” You wiggle them in his direction, and he grins.

“What now?”

“Now,” he pulls out a cookie sheet, flips it over, and dusts the top with cornmeal, “the real fun begins.”

“Oh, fuck yeah, Eiji.”

“Mmm, Ewchi swo gued.” Eijiro turns his head to look at you, his eyes squinting in concentration as he tries to decipher your garbled words. You hold up a finger while you start to aggressively chew through the massive bite of pizza you’ve just taken.

“The pizza, Eiji, it’s so good.”

“We make a rockin’ team (Y/N). Opening a pizzeria is definitely in our future.” You have to concentrate on keeping yourself from choking as tremors from your suppressed laughter contract your stomach.

“While that sounds like a dream come true, spending every day with you, I think the nation and our partners would prefer us to, you know, not have early midlife crises and switch professions.” 

He taps his chin thoughtfully as if he is really weighing the pros and cons of such a rash decision.

“I guess you’re right. Katuski would never get over us opening a restaurant before him. It’s actually one of his retirement goals if you can believe it. Imagine him in a kitchen barking out orders but also having to encourage all the other chefs and cooks below him.” 

The mental picture Eijiro envisions pulls a gentle chuckle from his diaphragm. You wish you can laugh too, but you feel yourself becoming distant. Guilt starts to weave its way from your heart into your head. Soon you can barely stay focused on the gossip and drama of Terrace House. You reach for the remote and hit pause.

“Woah! (Y/N) we were just getting the answers we wanted, why’d you. . .” His voice trails off, and you wonder what your face must look like. You adjust yourself, so you’re cross-legged and facing the redhead.

“Eijiro, I need to apologize. You’ve been so kind and sincere to me even though I broke your trust in a deeply shameful way.”

“That’s not —”

“Please, I need to get this off my chest, okay?”

“Okay.” You take a deep breath concentrating on the way your lungs feel as they expand with air.

“There’s no excuse for what happened between Katsuki and I. Sure, we’d been drinking, but we, I , should’ve been more vigilant. We’re heroes, for fucks sake! And that’s not to say or absolve us of being susceptible to stuff like this; it’s just we should be better. If that makes sense? With Katuski, he’s so —” 

Your words melt off the tip of your tongue. You’ve finally gotten up the nerve to look Eijiro in the face, and the intensity in the way he’s looking at you makes a shiver crawl down your spine. His eyes are tiny embers that have come to life. You’re not sure what you’ve said to incite such a strong reaction. Now you feel like backtracking, but that’s not your way, so you buck up.

“It’s just that, Katsuki, he can. . . He’s you know . . .” You keep losing your train of thought because is it your imagination, or is he leaning in closer? So maybe you need to speak louder.

“Katsuki can be really. . .” Okay, it’s definitely not your imagination or your volume. Eijiro is now close enough that you can make out his individual lashes. The silence is heavy, but not in a suffocating sort of way. You’re trying to corral your runaway thoughts when his hand comes into view. You swallow nervously and freeze as his knuckles brush past the side of your jaw. The pad of his thumb swipes at the corner of your mouth. What the fuck is up with these men .

“He can be intense.” Eijiro’s breath tickles the tip of your nose, and now all you can focus on is how close he is; the heat radiating off of him promises great things if you’d only be brave enough to initiate. No. Uh-uh. You’re having none of that, even if it’s right there. Fuck. You stay locked in this internal struggle, eyes closed as you silently revel in the sensation of his skin against yours. 

Eijiro’s laugh breaks the spell. You open your eyes to him, pulling away, the loss of his warmth immediately felt. He holds up his thumb as if it offers answers. You quirk a brow.

“You had some pizza sauce and crumbs on your face. Thought I’d get it for you.” He dusts his fingers off over his empty plate, and you manage to keep your expression composed. Because, again, what the fuck is up with these men. You’re not even sure if you should respond, so you just hit play, readjusting yourself, so you’re facing the TV.

You pull your arm up and over to the side of your head, stretching your neck and side. Shaking out your shoulders, you glimpse Eijiro tapping at his pointed teeth. A spark of silly genius strikes.

“Hey, Eiji,” he drops his finger from his mouth to crane his neck in your direction, “have you ever wondered what you’d look like without your shark teeth?”

He makes a face of disgust, and you try to contain the chortle, but it’s out before your palm can clap itself across your mouth.

“Did you just snort?”

You shake your head no vigorously, but the flush of your face is a neon sign undermining the lie. Eijiro beams wide, his expression delighted like you’ve just given him a present. You let your hand slide to your chest where the lub-dub of your heart feels like a message in morse code you’re not yet willing to decode.

“Can I? Try, I mean, to change your teeth?”

He doesn’t even take a moment to think it over. He just turns to face you, open and ready. Trust. That’s what you see reflected in his gaze. It’s nerve-wracking, honestly. To be in possession of something so precious and fragile. Izuku, Katsuki, and now Eijiro. They’ve each given you this treasure. You’re not sure if you’re deserving. 

Carefully you scoot a little closer until you can hold his face between your palms. With your eyes closed, you reach out with your quirk. You sigh happily. Connecting so intimately with another human being will never get old; even more so is the knowledge that Eijiro is himself down to his very core. You begin to nudge his jaw into reshaping while upping the pain inhibiting neurotransmitters to his brain so he doesn’t lose consciousness. Once his jaw has been shifted to make room, you get started on altering his teeth. When you’re done, you open your eyes to get a look at your handy work. Eijiro looks about the same, though his face seems to be more square, the roundness of his cheeks gone.

“Alright, show me those pearly whites.” He gives you a small smile, and you start backward.

“What? What? Does it look that bad?”

“No, no, it’s just. . . unfamiliar.” 

“Lemme see.”

“I can’t just randomly conjure a mirror, Eiji; I’m not Yaomomo.” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Oh right, I forget your quirks aren’t the same.” 

“Here.” You pass him your phone, the front-facing camera on. You definitely didn’t see his reaction coming. You watch Eijiro jump like a startled cat, a loud, strangled scream emphasizing his surprise as your phone gets sent flying, and he makes a sideways beeline off the couch.

“Woah, woah, woah!” You push forward, stretching out your hands to catch him, having to yank back to ensure he doesn’t topple to the floor. Instead, he topples over you, and you find yourself squished under his weight. Shit .

“(Y/N) you gotta put me back. I look so normal! It’s not right.”

You burst out into laughter. Any impure thoughts are momentarily forgotten at Eijiro’s declaration. 

“Okay, yeah, let me up first, and I’ll undo it.” He nods.

“Hold on.” 

“Huh?” 

You don’t expect his hands to wrap around your thighs. The feeling of his palms sears heat through your jeans as he wraps your legs around him and rocks back. You find yourself sitting in his lap, legs crossed at the ankle at his back. Why does this always seem to happen? You’re tired of your life feeling like a shoujo manga. Trying to ease up the sexual tensions, you break the silence, 

“So, do you always let your friends sit in your lap like this?” He gives you a smirk, and it opens up a pit in your gut. 

“Only the special ones.” You flounder for a reply, opting to close your eyes and get started on getting Eijiro back to normal. He gives you a smile when you’ve finished and your poor brain, still recovering from earlier, blurts out nervously,

“You’re back to being perfect.” 

Eijiro’s eyes go big, to the point you’re concerned he might be straining the muscles that keep them in place.

“You think I’m perfect?”

You frown, confused by his confusion. 

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? Eijiro, you’re as close to a saint as I’ll ever get. I thought everyone told you this.”

“Everyone isn’t you.”

There’s that look again. Heat starts to lick at the nape of your neck, and a warm pulse thrums between your legs. Eijiro’s so close. All you have to do is let your hands travel up his back; one can slide over his shoulder to rest against his chest, the other will cup his neck, your thumb brushing the pulse at his throat before caressing the side of his face. It’s just a fantasy until you feel Eijiro quiver under you and look up through your lashes. Your hands are where you’ve imagined them to be. Crimson eyes flicker with desire, the pulse between your legs becomes all-consuming. You want this. So you lean a little closer, taking pleasure in the heat of your bodies, the anticipation right before your lips meet. Immediately before your subconscious sets things back in order.

“Togata can literally rearrange people’s guts, and I think I should be getting home.” 

Holy shit, that just came out of your mouth. Eijiro pulls back. The cover of sexual tension that had previously swathed you falling to the wayside beside the sound of his half-suppressed laugh.

Christ, your life is a shit show.

You cross the threshold into your apartment with only one thing in mind. Nothing else matters. You make a beeline to your bedroom, utterly oblivious to your boyfriend’s attempts at communication. It’s not until he zooms past you and stops in your line of sight that you take a moment to breathe.

“Love, I’ve been calling to you since you walked in the door. Is everything okay? Did something happen? You know you can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s not anything like that, babe. I just really need some time alone.” 

He squints, angling his face so he has a better view of your eyes. Recognition brightens his expression.

“(Y/N), are you. . . Are you horny?” You clench your jaw and avert your gaze. He really caught you in quite the predicament.

“Maybe.”

He releases a short breath of air from his nose.

“Can I help at all?”

“Yeah, you can get out of my way.”

“No.”

Your head snaps up to glare at the freckled man. Izuku’s arms are crossed, and you can tell he’s not going to budge. It’s evident in the set of his jaw.

“Izuku.” The name falls from your lips bathed in a lethal guarantee. He shrugs, and you snap. You try to sidestep him, but he mimics you, blocking your every shuffle until finally, you grab him and pin him to the wall. His head snaps back, the thwack of his skull against the wall brings you out of your haze.

“Crap, Izuku, are you okay? I didn’t mean to —”

“That all you got, love?”

“I, uh, what?” He doesn’t let you collect your thoughts. With practiced ease, he breaks your hold on his shoulders, and suddenly you’ve swapped places. Now he’s got his hand wrapped around your neck, and you have your back to the wall. You can hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Arousal pulses in your veins, the crotch of your underwear grows moist.

“I asked if that was all you got.” You can feel his free hand working on the front of your pants. Goosebumps erupt across your thighs as your pants drop to the floor. Izuku’s hand glides its way up to your hip. The sensation draws a moan from your lungs.

“You seem a bit distracted (Y/N). Let me help.” His grip around your neck tightens briefly before fingers tangle into the hair at the base of your neck. A moan gets caught in your throat. The hand at your hip slips into the front of your panties, warm fingers make quick contact with your clit. Your hips buck as he slips a finger inside of you. Izuku’s lips pepper your exposed neck with kisses as he works his finger between your legs. Realizing that you have hands of your own hanging limply at your sides, you pull them to Izuku’s face drawing him to your lips. Your kiss is wet and sloppy— everything you need. You try to lurch forward because he’s taking his sweet time, but his grip in your hair keeps you still. You groan in frustration and pleasure. Izuku slips a second finger inside, and you hum in appreciation. His thumb toys with your clitoris just the way you like. The way you taught him. God, he’s turning you into putty. All you can do now is let the ecstasy wash over you. When you begin to feel like you’re going to burst, your grip on him tightens. He pants into your neck, where his lips have suckled a hickey into existence.

“Shit, Izu-ku, I’m gonna, I’m about to—”

He captures your erotic gasps between his lips as your abdomen spasms and toes curl. Your chest heaves, and you’ve never so badly wanted to crawl up a wall. It leaves you breathless and satiated. For now. After a few moments to collect your breath, Izuku pulls his fingers out, and though there were only two, you feel an ache at the emptiness. You watch as he licks his fingers clean, mesmerized by the care he takes in the act. As if every drop of your cum is precious. You rub your thighs together as another ripple of hunger stirs in your gut.

“Izuku.”

“Hm?” He looks up at you from his fingers.

“We haven’t christened the hallway floor.” He grins at your suggestion, and that’s all the permission you need. You pull his shirt up over his head and tug at the waistband of his sweats. Kicking your legs out of your jeans, you eye the erection straining against the material of his briefs. You smack your lips approvingly before tackling him to the floor in a tangle of limbs and giggles.

The silence that greets Katsuki once he steps into his apartment puts him on edge. He pulls his phone from the pouch of his hoodie, the screen comes to life and the digital time is all that greets him.

“Where the hell is he?”

After slipping into his house shoes, Katsuki makes his rounds exploring the common areas, still no boyfriend to be found. The bedroom it is. He pauses at the door, fingertips just barely grazing the handle. The blond hero frowns, tilting his head to better decipher the noises passing through the door.

“The fuck is he doing.”

He pushes the door open, lungs filled to capacity, ready to lay into Eijiro, but the sight that greets him sucks the air from his lungs and, frankly, makes his dick twitch. Eijiro is splayed out on their bed, his pants and briefs pulled down to his ankles, his shirt hastily pulled up mid-belly. A hand is firmly wrapped around his erection, his strokes alternating from slow and languid to fast and frenzied. Katsuki watches, stunned, while his boyfriend pleasures himself. Eyes closed, mouth whimpering inaudible pleas. So consumed by his activity, Eijiro doesn’t even notice Katsuki walk over to his side of the bed. It’s not until the grip of a second hand that isn’t his wraps around the base of his dick that his eyes flutter open. One set of crimson eyes smile into a second pair.

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

“Tsch. Shut up and let go.” The redhead does as he’s told, the grin still stuck to his face.

“Be my guest.”

“You were thinking about her, weren’t you, horny bastard.”

“Among other people.” 

There’s a mischievous glint in Eijiro’s eyes as he responds. Katsuki adjusts his grip, eliciting a hiss from his partner. The blonde cracks a feral smile as he twists his wrist while moving his hand up and down. Eijiro bites at his bottom lip, his free hand clenching the comforter for dear life.

Katsuki lets his thumb trace gentle circles around the head of Eijiro’s erection. When tiny beads of precum start to leak out, Katsuki leans his head forward, opening his mouth enough to let his tongue dart past his lips to lick them up. He releases his grip and finds a comfortable position between Eijiro’s legs. Teasingly he licks and kisses his way around Eijiro’s cock before softly suckling up the base and taking the head into his mouth. 

“Shit. Babe.” Eijiro stretches out his hand so his fingers can intertwine with the hair at the top of Katsuki’s head. His grip tightens when Katsuki bobs his head a few times before slowing down to take Eijiro’s entire length into his mouth. The blonde looks up, locking eyes with his boyfriend as he hollows out his cheeks, and Eijiro feels himself falling into oblivion. The only thing tethering him to the present is Katsuki’s mouth around him and the wet sound of flesh on flesh. His core tightens as pressure builds up from his legs and down from his head.

When the vibrations of a moan from the back of Katsuki’s throat travel down his shaft, Eijiro’s world dissolves. Reflexively his hand pulls Katsuki’s head down further, but only for a second before strength leaves his limbs, and everything fades to black as he is consumed by his climax. The muscles in Eijiro’s thighs spasm for a few seconds longer after he finishes. He opens his eyes to find Katsuki on his knees, still between his legs, his face flush and hair disheveled.

“That was. . . Have you always been so good?” A dark cloud casts a shadow across Katsuki’s expression.

“You really fucking asking me this right now?” Eijiro can’t help the laugh. The pout that deepens Katsuki’s frown doesn’t help.

“Babe, I’m joking.”

“Not cool to joke with the person who’s still holding onto a bit of your cum in their mouth.” Eijiro’s mouth falls open.

“Firstly, that’s gross, secondly super kinky. Does this mean you’re going to, I don’t know, feed it back to me.” A wicked smile pulls at the corner of Katsuki’s cheeks.

“Now that you mention it . . .” He inches closer as Eijiro squirms as far up the bed he can go before hitting the headboard.

“No! No! Bakugo Katsuki, don’t you dare!” Eijiro screeches while the blonde makes a beeline for his mouth; his own hangs open comically. The explosive hero slaps a wet kiss on the redhead’s lips before blowing raspberries all the way down his neck and exposed collar bone. Eijiro erupts into a fit of giggles, passively trying to push the blonde off.

“Katsuki — ha, you know — I can’t —” Laughter consumes his breath. The assault of kisses only stops when Eijiro snakes a hand between his and Katsuki’s bodies, palming the front of his shorts. The provocative gesture brings the blonde to a stuttering halt. Eijiro rubs the slowly growing bulge in his palm, watching as Katsuki tries to fight back his moans.

“You’re cute when you try to hold back.” 

“Fuck of-oooh.” Eijiro’s hand finds a hold around the base of Katsuki’s erection.

“It’s my turn, and you’re going to do exactly what I say.”

Eijiro licks his upper lip in anticipation, while Katsuki feels a tremor journey down his spine, eyes glued to the face of the man lying beneath him.

“Good boy.”

Your life has grown exponentially more complicated. It’s why you find yourself taking drinks to the head, the loud bass of the bar vibrating your entire body, on a Wednesday evening.

“Another round!” You raise your empty glass above your head before slamming it back onto the table. Yaomomo arches a finely manicured brow, Mina pulls out her phone, a devilish grin on her face, while Uraraka nods her head in aggressive agreement.

“So (Y/N) you ever gonna spill the beans on why you called this council of women?”

“Nope.” You cross your arms, hoping your face looks stern. The titters of laughter from your surrounding company make you uncross them.

“(Y/N), I love you, you know that, right?” Yaomomo rests a hand against your shoulder, her tone motherly and caring.

“Yes.”

“Okay good, because this is getting out of hand. I think it would be best to call it a night, yeah?”

“Oh, don’t be a buzzkill, Yaomomo. We’re having fun, aren’t we.”

“Loads!” A hiccup breaks up your declaration. Your friend’s frown deepens.

“Mina’s right. There’s no reason to call it yet.”

Yaomomo cuts a glare in Uraraka’s direction. The red glow of her own drunkenness hides her characteristic blush.

“Right, and this has nothing to do with being two drinks ahead of (Y/N) in your drinking game?”

“Absolutely not.” Uraraka tries and fails to keep a grin off her face.

“You guys are horrible persuaders. How’d you manage to make it pro?”

“We went to UA.”

“Mina! It was more than just the pedigree of our education. We worked just as hard as everyone else - if not more.” Mina rolls her eyes, uninterested in rehashing the traumas of the past.

“Yaomomo,” you turn to the creative hero, “here.” You pull three shots out from where you’ve hidden them on the bench and offer them up.

“You need them more than me.” She lets out an exasperated breath.

“Wait, wait, wait! (Y/N) where did you get those? How did you?” Uraraka scoots closer, her knee bumps into an empty glass, the sound of it clattering to the floor draws everyone’s attention.

“One, two, three . . .” Uraraka groans, her hope of beating you at this game dashed.

“How many did you count?” Uraraka shakes her head from where she’s planted it between her arms on the table. Now that your cover’s been blown, you clear the glasses from around you.

“Shit, (Y/N) how are you still conscious! This brings your total up to ten?” The pink-haired woman sets her phone down to count by hand.

“No, eleven? Twelve tops or maybe —”

“Stop. I don’t need to know how badly I lost!” Uraraka’s head shoots up, her head falling against her shoulder and a pout on her face.

“U-ra-ra-hic-ka, you’re a winner in my heart! Now and forever!” You feel tears starting to well in the corner of your eyes.

“Christ.” Yaomomo downs a shot, eyes a second, shrugs, and takes it.

“Can I have the last one?” She passes the shot off.

“Ugh, how did you manage more than one? It tastes awful.”

“Not as awful as the guilt in my heart!”

Everyone’s eyebrows rise at the outburst.

“Tell us more about that.” Mina grabs her phone again. Yaomomo gives her a disapproving look, she sticks out her tongue.

You bury your face in your hands. A hand rubs the base of your back, and the comfort pulls your face from their hiding place.

“I want to. . . I want to fuck!” Mina bursts out into laughter, Yaomomo presses her knuckles to her face, while Uraraka gives you a thumbs up.

“Don’t we all.”

“No, no, you don’t, you don’t get it. I. Want. To. Fuck. Them. All.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

You open your mouth to say more, but the sound of approaching footsteps clams you up.

“Hi, ladies!”

“Sorry we’re late; our reconnaissance took a little longer than expected. Missed anything?”

Mina makes room for the two new additions.

“Not at all. (Y/N) was just explaining that she wants to fuck them all.”

“Oh.”

“Like Pokemon, but with sex! I dig it.”

The entire table erupts in roaring laughter. Uraraka topples over to her side, arms clutching at her stomach. Yaomomo hides under her bangs while you and everyone else let your laughs double you over. Your stomach does a summersault, but you can’t be bothered to pull yourself upright.

“Toru, that was, geez, that was fucking gold.” 

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here until closing.”

Once everyone’s taken time to collect themselves, all eyes turn to you expectantly. You chant a little hype-up mantra in your head before taking this plunge into the deep.

“Izuku, he’s, he’s,” you raise ten fingers and shake your hands for emphasis, “ great . His tongue, oh God, his tongue is a, uh, a national treasure! Honestly, everyone should, hic, um, they should take notes or a class. So much to learn. So much.”

“Are you getting this, Mina?”

“Oh hell yeah, this one’s for the vault, forsure.”

“But!” Everyone turns to their neighbor, eyebrows raised at the cliffhanger. You’ve closed your eyes, and your breathing is leveling off.

“(Y/N)?”

“Earth to Build-a-Bear, you still with us?”

“Is that really what you call her Toru?”

“She thinks it’s cute.”

“She also wouldn’t tell you if she wasn’t a fan.”

“Oh, shove off Kyoka. It’s a great nickname.”

“Hey (Y/N), are you alright? Need some water? Maybe some yakitori and soba?” At the mention of food, you brighten up, shaking your neck out and grinning at the group of women. Yaomomo stands and heads over to the bar to place the order. Uraraka hands you a glass of water.

“Why isn’t she using her —” Mina claps a hand over Kyoka’s mouth and shakes her head. Toru leans forward.

“You cannot, under any circumstance, mention the qword when (Y/N) is this drunk. Last time she woke up with her heart on the right side, and she’d gotten rid of her entire urinary tract because she was tired of having to pee. And don’t even get me started on what she did to the subway station. Her photo is still hanging on the agent’s wall of shame. Her PR rep was furious.”

“Where the hell was I?”

“I think you were doing your six months abroad.”

“Damn.”

“You have no idea.”

Yaomomo returns carrying two platters of food. She sets them down, and you help yourself to a handful of bites. You push the last bits of food into one cheek so you can keep talking.

“Izuku is, he is —” 

“No, no, nope. (Y/N) you’ve already talked about him, and I think I can speak for all of us when I say you shared more than we would ever want to know.”

“Oh. . . okay.”

“What’d she say?”

“I’ll show you later.”

“Um, well. . . I want to fuck them all.”

“Yes, we know.”

“Who’s them?”

“Katsuki and Eiji.”

“Huh!”

“Shh, don’t interrupt her.”

“I,” you frown, trying to shape your feelings into words, “I have this fantasy —”

“I fucking called it.”

“Mina.”

“What? I did.” Everyone rolls their eyes.

“About all of them and me, the four of us, having sex. Good sex, you know? Like when Izuku made me astral —

“(Y/N)!” Your name reverberates in your skull, their voices layering together.

“Oops, sorry. Ha. But, yeah. I just, they’re just soooooo hot. I get all fluttery,” you point down to your lap, “when I’m around them. Like, it makes sense with Izuku, right. He’s my, my full-time lover, but with Eiji and Tsuki, it shouldn’t. They should be off-limits, but I want them so bad. And they, they’re making it hard to say no! Always in gray sweatpants or tight shirts. Giving me looks . It’s almost like,” you burp and sigh happily at the easing pressure in your chest, “they want me too. Totally ridiculous, right? Right!”

You miss the musing glances your friends share, preoccupied with the yakitori.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know!” You let your head hang forward.

“I say go for it.” Everyone looks to Yaomomo in shock. Her approval is the last thing anyone saw coming.

“Really?”

“I don’t mince my words.”

“But why? You’ve always seemed so. . .”

“Prudish?”

“No!”

“Well yeah.”

“Mina!”

“What? Everyone was thinking it, and she offered it up first.”

Yaomomo laughs good-naturedly.

“I’ve grown since high school, as I suspect all of us have. Plus, I have an inkling that the boys are, in fact, dropping hints that poor sweet (Y/N) is having a hard time accepting.”

“Huh, now that you mention it, that would make some things make sense.”

“Like what things?”

“Denki for one. He’s been going out for drinks with the boys a lot more than usual.”

“Do you think it’s a team effort?”

“If it is, they’re only playing with half the team!”

“Damn straight. Between the lot of them, they’ve got maybe two, three, if we’re generous, brain cells.”

“Toru!” She giggles; everyone left to imagine the expression on her face.

“(Y/N), are you getting all of this? You have nothing to feel guilty about. Go get ’em!” Uraraka pats your back. She frowns when you don’t respond.

“(Y/N)?” She shakes your shoulder, no response. She tries to tickle you, but you don’t even flinch. Finally, she tilts your head up, and it falls back weightlessly.

“Oh crap, she’s knocked out.”

“Think she got any of what we said?”

“No clue, but I do have an idea.” Yaomomo looks toward Mina.

Izuku feels his pocket vibrate. He pulls out his phone, surprised to find a text from Mina in his notifications. There’s even an attachment.

Ashido Mina 👽: Keep up the Plus Ultra work, we’re cheering you all on (σ❛ᴗ˂̵)σ✧

Izuku swallows nervously before turning to his right. Kacchan and Eijiro are in conversation with Shoto and Hanata. Denki is crammed on the couch with the remaining male members of his class, plus Hitoshi in the throws of a Super Smash Bros battle royale. Moving quickly, he passes the table where the couple is sitting, subtly signaling them to follow. They take a few seconds before the trio is huddled in the middle of Izuku’s bedroom.

“You gonna explain the need for stealth?”

“Mina sent me this.” Izuku hands his phone over to the blonde.

“Why would Mina send you —”

“Watch the video.” Eijiro shimmies closer to his boyfriend for a better view. The duo holds their breath as Katsuki hits play. At first, there’s darkness, the muffled sound of music blaring overhead. You come into focus, your face flush from your drinking. Your voice travels through the recording, and both men cast approving glances in Izuku’s direction. For his part, the freckled man manages to stay conscious through the embarrassment of his oral skills being outed to his high school peers doing its best to knock him out. The video cuts out, and time seems to have lapsed since now platters of food are on the table. Your voice comes back into focus,

“Um, well. . . I want to fuck them all.”

“Yes, we know.”

“Who’s them?”

“Katsuki and Eiji.”

“Oh shit.”

“Did she just?”

“Keep watching.”

Both men return their attention to the video.

“I,” you frown, “I have this fantasy —”

. . .

“About all of them and me, the four of us, having sex. Good sex, you know? Like when Izuku made me astral —

“You made her what?”

“Izuku, we’re definitely having a conversation about what’s been revealed in this video.” A strangled ‘meep’ is all the Pro Hero can manage.

“Oops, sorry. Ha. But, yeah. I just, they’re just soooooo hot. I get all fluttery,” you point down to your lap, “when I’m around them. Like, it makes sense with Izuku, right. He’s my, my full-time lover, but with Eiji and Tsuki, it shouldn’t. They should be off-limits, but I want them so bad. And they, they’re making it hard to say no! Always in gray sweatpants or tight shirts. Giving me looks . It’s almost like,” you burp and sigh happily, “they want me too. Totally ridiculous, right? Right!”

The video stops, and Katsuki hands Izuku back his phone.

“I knew she wanted to fuck me.”

Eijiro slaps his boyfriend’s chest with the back of his hand. The force causes the blonde to sharply inhale a short ugly gasp.

“Christ Eijiro. You trying to kill me before the party even starts?”

“If it would mean more for me.” Eijiro gives Katsuki a sweet smile, he returns the look with his signature scowl.

“Hardy har har. You’re not funny.”

“Huh? You weren’t saying that when we were rol —”

Izuku blinks, and suddenly Katsuki has Eijiro pinned to the ground, his hand clasped around the redhead’s mouth.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The command is dry, and Katsuki’s nostrils flare while his jaw clenches.

“Um, guys?”

Katsuki snaps his head around, his eyes shooting daggers.

“It’s none of your concern, nerd.” Eijiro flips Katsuki over with the minor distraction, the explosive hero squirms the hand Eijiro has over his mouth, just barely muffling his screeching.

“Don’t worry, Izuku, this isn’t how we normally handle disagreements. Katsuki’s just a little . . . Tense right now, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh. . . Um, well, we have a guest bedroom with clean sheets?”

Katsuki’s eyes bulge, the squirming turns quickly into full-blown flailing, and his screeches become yells that even Eijiro can’t muffle. Eijiro is unfazed. Adjusting himself, he manages to pin down one of Katsuki’s arms with his knee, switching hands that cover his mouth to rebalance himself. He looks over his shoulder in Izuku's direction, his lips turned up in a flirtatious smile.

“We just might take you up on that. Care to join us? The more, the merrier.”

Izuku’s first impulse is to say yes; he can feel the word hanging on the tip of his tongue. The prospect of what Eijiro is offering sends Izuku’s stomach into a free fall.

“I . . . I think that” the excitement reflected in Eijiro’s eyes pulls Izuku further into the possibility until he glances down and sees the pure repugnance in Katsuki’s eyes, “I should be getting back to everyone else. The pizza should be arriving soon, and I want to make sure that, um, Minoru doesn’t hit on the delivery person like last time.”

Izuku hurries out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him. A slight twinge of regret makes him pause and look at the door handle. His hand drifts up towards the knob, towards —

“No.” Izuku clenches his fist, pulling it back to his side.

“This is (Y/N)’s fantasy, not mine.” He hurries down the hallway.

Eijiro stares at the door for a few seconds before letting Katsuki up. He can’t suppress the pleased look on his face, much to the annoyance of the man at his side.

“Now why the hell did you go and do that, huh? You traumatized the poor man Eijiro. That doesn’t do us any favors.”

“I was just testing the waters.”

“Testing the waters? The fuck for, we already know my spitfire is game.” Eijiro turns to face the blonde, eyebrow raised.

“Your spitfire? Hmm, it’s a good thing I’m not the jealous type.”

“Tsch, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Eijiro.”

The redhead shrugs and walks toward the door. Katsuki catches his hand, interlacing their fingers, and positions himself between Eijiro and the door.

“You will always be the most important person in my life. I love you. My attraction to (Y/N) hasn’t and won’t change that, okay?”

Eijiro’s eyes stay glued to the ground.

“Hey,” Katsuki tucks his thumb under Eijiro’s chin, “if this is getting to be too much, that's all right, nothing is set in stone, and your feelings, our relationship comes first. Will you look at me, please? I want to make sure you’re feeling okay.”

At his request, Eijiro looks up. Instead of looking unhappy, the redhead is grinning, and his eyes are shining with mischief.

“What the fuck.” Katsuki scowls, pulling his hand free of his boyfriend’s.

“Hey! I was enjoying holding hands with you, babe. I have such a soft spot for when you declare your love for me.”

“Oh, fuck off, Eijiro.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn't help myself. I saw the opening, and when you get all mushy and vulnerable, it really turns me on.”

“Jesus. What did I do.” Eijiro lets out a soft laugh.

“Hey, babe.” Katsuki stops with a grumble, his foot just barely past the doorway.

“Yes?” A shiver shakes the upper half of Katsuki’s body as Eijiro’s breath tickles his ear.

“If I’m going to have a foursome, I will be fucking everyone. Won’t you?”

Eijiro sidesteps his partner to enter the hallway, throwing a wink over his shoulder. Katsuki stares at his receding back, the question echoing in his head.

You stare at the steam wafting up from the contents of your mug. The light of the sun breaking cover to welcome the start of a new day cast soft shadows across your dining room table. Your fingers trace absently over where Izuku’s quirk had shattered the wood. You still don’t know what had been said to upset him so after you'd left the three men. When you broached the subject, your boyfriend was uncharacteristically tight-lipped, so you’d let it go. At least for the moment.

“Good morning, love.” You look up from your thoughts to find Izuku leaning against the wall. His green locks a bedhead mess.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” He walks over and plants a kiss on top of your head.

“Really well. I’m pretty sure I dreamed, but I can’t remember any of them.”

“You should get a dream journal. I used to keep one when I was little.” You grab his hand before he takes off to the kitchen, planting a kiss on the inside of his wrist.

“You did?”

“Mhmm,” you take a sip of coffee, “I can’t think of why I stopped, but I did.” You adjust how you’re sitting so you can watch him pull breakfast ingredients from the fridge.

“We can try looking for one when we go out later.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He busies himself with making breakfast pausing briefly to ask if you’ll be partaking.

“Just the miso soup for me, please.”

He gives you a concerned glance.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I might’ve gone a little overboard on Wednesday.” Your stomach gurgles at the reminder of your misadventure.

“Still? (Y/N) it’s been two days. Are you sure you don’t want to use your quirk? Or we can visit Recovery Girl.”

You wave your hand and shake your head.

“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you for caring,” you can hear Izuku saying ‘it’s my job to care’ through his expression, “but I’ve gotta hold myself accountable, ya know? If I always used my quirk to fix things, I wouldn’t have learned much these past twenty-four years. Plus, how would I tell my kickass stories to our grandkids if I didn’t have the scars to go with them.”

He tries to hide the blush, but he can’t hide from you. And the smile you see peeking out from his profile tells you all you need to know.

“Grandkids?” 

You uncross your legs and make your way towards your boyfriend. You snake your arms around his waist, your cheek resting against the muscles of his back. Inhaling, you let the comfort of his smell blanket you as you nuzzle his shoulder.

“I told you, didn’t I? When we first moved in together, we were going to grow old with each other.”

He looks back over his shoulder with a teasing smile.

“I might remember something like that being said.”

You peek around his body to make sure he isn’t holding a knife before you glide your hands up his sides, fingers wiggling as they go. Izuku jumps and quickly descends into a fit of boisterous giggling. He squirms in your arms until his own fingers graze over your sides. Soon your intertwined laughter is all there is in this early morning.

“Hey slowpoke, what’s the . . .”

You try to school your expression, but you can feel it settling into one of worry and frustration. Izuku has stepped into a side alley, his attention glued to the little device in his hand. He looks up, and the guilt makes your heart squeeze.

“Love, I. . . I’ve got to go.” You nod. When duty calls, you answer, even if you’re in the middle of holiday shopping.

“I know.” He gives you a half-smile before departing with a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll see you when I’m finished.”

He doesn’t wait for your okay. You watch as he sprints off, phone to his ear, no doubt contacting his agency. Something stings your eyes, and you rub them with the pinky of your free hand. When you pull your finger away, you frown at the moisture that’s been collected.

“Pull yourself together (Y/N). You’ve been called away on assignments at the drop of a hat before too. This is part of the job.” 

Even if it feels different when you’re the one staying behind. You shake yourself off and roll your shoulders back. You won’t let this derail your day.

You’re pushing yourself out of a revolving door when your phone chimes. You find a quiet corner to stop and set down your shopping bags. It’s not from who you expect.

The Rock ♨️: Are you free today? 

I have a surprise for you!

You contemplate how or even whether you should respond. You’ve just settled on a course of action when your phone chimes again. Triple texting? Eiji’s in rare form. You open your messages. It’s not from who you expect again.

🥦 Boo: Just finished up, but it looks like the paperwork is going to be a nightmare. I’m not sure how long it’ll take or when I’ll be able to join you again. I might have to fight my superiors ୧(๑•̀ᗝ•́)૭

You have to laugh at the last sentence.

Me: Babe, your dedication to our relationship is endearing, truly but don’t get fired.

🥦 Boo: Yes ma’am (‘-‘*ゞ

Having sorted out your situation with your boyfriend, you pull up your thread with Eijiro.

Me: I have to drop some things off at home and grab a bite. Give me like an hour and a half?

The Rock ♨️: Right on! I’ll send you the details in a bit. See you soon ༼ ᕤ◕◡◕ ༽ᕤ

You smile to yourself, oddly excited to see what the redhead has in store.

You spot him as soon as you exit the station. Even if he didn’t have red hair, the presence he exudes is one of a kind. You grin to yourself as you make your way towards him. When you’re close enough, you bump his arm with your shoulder.

“Hey there.”

“(Y/N)!” He turns and pulls you into a tight hug. You let yourself fall into his warmth, the quiet strength of the beating of his heart. You sigh happily. You take a step back to get a sense of what he’s wearing. He’s dressed for the cold, more buddled than you are.

“Where are we going?”

He grins, and you have to admit it’s charming.

“It’s a surprise, like I said. Do you trust me?”

There goes that word again. Trust. You eye the man standing in front of you. Tall, well-built, the sun in human form, a place of comfort and respite, and yet you’ve seen him fall to pieces. Sink into a pit of self-doubt and social isolation and yet still turn to the world with his smile. As cliché as it is, Kirishima Eijiro is perfectly imperfect. Of course you trust him.

“Without question.”

You grab his hand, interlacing your fingers so you can give it a soft squeeze and letting the ease of him relax you. Shoulder to shoulder, you start down this adventure together.

“Can’t fucking believe he was serious about us taking notes. The two of you are always dragging me into things.”

“I mean, Eijiro-kun is many things. The most amazing is how true to his word he is; rarely does he say things he doesn't mean. It’s a standard I hope to meet one day.”

The admiring tone sneaks into Izuku’s praise. Nevertheless, it rubs the blonde man walking beside him the wrong way. Izuku never talks about him like that.

“You got the hots for my boyfriend or something!”

Izuku’s face flushes, his jaw working its way open and closed, while his mind reels.

“What? No, no! That’s not, I’m; I mean, he’s someone I admire. That’s all.”

“And what? I’m just chopped liver, huh!”

Katsuki scowls, stuffing his fits into his bomber jacket pockets to hide their trembling. He marches past Izuku.

“That’s absurd.”

Katsuki’s scowl turns into a sneer, his hands coming out of his pockets to rest in fists at his side. He whips around, ready to tear into the nerd behind him for trying to invalidate his feelings but the expression on Izuku’s face shuts him right up. The freckled man’s lips are drawn tight, his jaw clenched so hard Katsuki’s a little worried it’s gonna break and his eyes. Izuku’s eyes are blazing.

“You were my first Kacchan. Before All Might, before Aizawa-sensei, before anyone in Class 1-A, it was you that I admired more than anyone or anything on this planet. In this universe. It still is you. It has always been you, Katsuki.”

His breath catches in the back of his throat. It’s not like Izuku’s never admitted this to the explosive hero before, but he’s never done so with eyes burning with love. And Katsuki does not see the kind of love you’d expect to see between best rivals — no, this time it’s different. It sends the foul mood that had been brewing in Katsuki’s chest fleeing. Something shifts, and the two men find themselves drawing closer to each other. Both lost in the vibrant sea of color of the other’s irises. Inches apart, Izuku’s fingers brush timidly against the tips of Katsuki’s fingers. Asking permission. A tremble travels down Katsuki’s arm, his heartbeat the only noise he can hear as he lets his hand reach for Izuku’s. They haven’t held hands in years.

“Izuku, I need —”

“Katsuki, I want —”

“Excuse me? I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The two Pro Heroes jump apart, Katsuki setting off small explosions that startle the stranger who’s cut in on their moment. Anger seeps from the blonde’s pores, encasing him in a frightful aura.

“Ground Zero, stop.” Izuku reaches out and rests a palm against Katuski’s chest. He ignores how good it feels to sense Katsuki’s heartbeat under his hand.

“Tsch.” Katsuki shakes Izuku’s hand off and crosses his arms. Both men turn to focus on the teen who’s clutching a phone between white knuckles.

“What can we do for you?”

“I was hoping to get a picture?” Her voice is barely audible, Katsuki’s near-meltdown having dampened some of her excitement.

“Of course, of course. We can do that, can’t we?” Izuku turns to Katsuki with a pointed look, and the blonde begrudgingly uncrosses his arms.

“Yay!”

The three of them squish together, trying to fit the bulky men into the same frame, so up close proving to be more of an ordeal than expected. Both try not to look at the other. To ignore the new way being close to each other feels. They smile for the camera, or at least they think they do.

“So, how does it look?”

Katsuki eyes the girl who’s been staring at her phone for what feels longer than necessary.

“It’s um, good?”

“What? Why’d you make it a question! Lemme see it.”

“Ground Zero.”

“No, it’s fine. It came out great. I just needed to make some adjustments.”

“Hmph, well, we should get going, Deku. We’re behind schedule.”

“Ah! Right, we should. Have a great day, Miss!”

The two Pro Heroes are off before she can say thank you. She stands there for a little while longer, eyes glued to the picture on her screen. She’s not sure what it is, but the photo doesn’t sit right. Deku and Ground Zero aren’t even looking at the camera. At the last second, they turned their necks to face each other, and the emotion that’s passing between their gaze. . . 

“Ain't my business.”

The teenager hits delete and puts her phone back in her pocket. So much for meeting your heroes.

You’re pleasantly surprised when you find yourself at Yokohama’s Red Brick Warehouse. Even more so when you notice the rink that sits nestled between the buildings.

“Eiji,” you grab hold of his arm tight, and he looks back at you, eyebrow raised, “did you know?”

“Did I know?” He frowns, confused. You feel your stomach flutter at the coincidence.

“Ice skating is one of my favorite hobbies.” Eijiro’s face becomes wide with shock. The small tilt in his shoulders yelling, ‘get out!’

“No way!”

You smile broadly as the excitement starts to fill your body with jittery energy.

“Eiji, you do know I grew up in a mountain ski town, right? I was on the skating team from elementary school through senior high. We’re practically born with skates and skis.”

He laughs, and the cold air condenses his joy into a visible mist.

“I didn’t want to assume.” You shake your head.

“Come on! Let's go get our skates!”

You pull him along, all the worry you’d been holding in your shoulders evaporating. There’s no better place he could have taken you.

“They’re not too tight?”

You imagine he’s wiggling his toes, the way he’s staring at his skates.

“Nope feels comfy.” You nod.

“Okay, so a few things before we head out onto the ice: fall to the side, your hands first and everything relaxed, keep a bend in your knees and a straight back, and if you want to stop, bring your feet together in a v. Try your best to keep your weight even, or you’ll pitch forward. Got it?”

“It feels like I’m getting my own private lessons.” You laugh.

“That’s because you are, now come on, let’s get on the ice.”

You help him up and waddle your way to the closest rink entrance. You wait for a gap in the crowd before stepping out first. As soon as your blades hit, the ice tension washes itself out of you. The comfort of your surroundings brings you back in time. When life was simple. You stand firm, hands out as you guide Eiji carefully out to join you. He wobbles, his grip tightening around your hands. His eyes pleading, ‘don’t let me go.’

“I’ve got you. Take your time. Find your legs.” He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but his knees are locked.

“Don’t forget your knees, Eiji! You want soft knees.”

“Soft knees, yeah, I can do that.”

“I’m going to let you go, okay? But I’ll be right here.” He shakes his head, his entire being focused on finding his footing. You glide next to him, his right side glued to the rink wall. You watch amused and with growing affection as the redhead slowly finds his way. Eijiro’s glides are still choppy, sometimes he pushes off too hard, and you have to catch him before he goes zooming into someone, but for the most part, he does just fine. You skate side by side. His hand brushes against yours every now and then, sending tiny sparks of warmth shooting up your arm. You’re thankful for the scarf wrapped around your neck — it makes an excellent hiding spot. When you feel his pinky tentatively skim the side of your hand before wrapping around your own, so they’re linked, you skid to a stop. He almost topples over and fellow skaters ‘tsk’ and make known their displeasure at your faux-pas. They skate around you as you stare tongue-tied at your joined fingers. It’s such a small thing. You squeezed his hand earlier that day, and yet this time, it feels infinitely more intimate.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Eijiro follows your gaze; his eyes go wide as he stammers out an apology.

“Ah, oh, sorry. Um,” Eijiro pulls his hand away, face flush, “it was —”

“No, no. It’s fine, really.” He looks at you with disbelief. Your reaction, granted, had said otherwise.

Trust. The five-letter word comes floating back to the front of your mind. Izuku trusts you. Eiji trusts you. Hell, Katsuki even trusts you. So why can’t you trust yourself? You thought your life couldn’t get more cliché, and it looks like the universe took you up on the challenge because as you stare at the man in front of you, everything falls into place. Izuku’s willingness to overlook your hooking up with Katsuki in a public restroom. Katsuki’s confession and his unwavering pursuit of you. And then there’s Eijiro, who’s right here. They’ve been throwing hints at you for who knows how long. Oh shit. This is. . . Your fantasy. . . You can see it now. You take a small breath and reach out with your hand. You cautiously let your fingers brush across the front of Eijiro’s hand before sliding them between his fingers. His hand is warm, and the little bit of clamminess you feel against your palm makes you smile softly. He’s just as nervous. You look up, and he’s got a look on his face that sends your heart diving into your stomach. The urge to kiss his nose scoots you forward until you can make out the scar above his right eye.

“Do you trust me?”

You say the words carefully. They weigh heavy on your tongue because they mean so much more than a simple question. The fragile hope in them leaves you feeling raw and exposed. As if you plucked your heart from your chest: an offering.

“Yes.”

Eijiro’s voice is soft but firm. You can feel the certainty in his answer. He knows what you’ve just offered. You feel the smile that tugs your lips up in the crinkle of your eyes.

“Okay.” 

You take his second hand, looking over your shoulder before beginning to skate backward. Eijiro’s face goes wide with wonder before settling into his characteristic grin. Sparkling eyes and all. You don’t mind the whispers, the confused glances. It all feels irrelevant. What matters is the sound of Eijiro’s laugh, the giggle that feels like sun on your skin. You let go of his hands, turning yourself around and skating towards the middle. When he’s parked against the wall of the rink, you perform some of your favorite moves.

You start at a crossover, gliding backward on the right back outside edge before turning to rotate into your jump. As you leap, twisting left and crossing left leg over right, you make one and a half rotations before coming to land back on your right foot on its outside edge. You follow through by swinging your left leg behind yourself, your arms out for balance and grace. You glide backward, taking stock of the space around you. Drawing your arms back to enter into a camel spin, you let yourself go for four rotations — the thrill flushing your cheeks red. When you come out, you find Eijiro clapping excitedly, his enthusiasm tangible. You bow at the hip and skate over to him.

“(Y/N)! That was, wow, just amazing. You’re amazing.”

You’re thankful that the exertion of skating has already turned your cheeks bright red. Eijiro’s complement having thrown a log onto the already fierce flame of your blush.

“Ha! It only took months of grueling and repetitive practice. I’m sure you could figure it out. Maybe instead of pizza, skating is your retirement plan.”

“I think I’ll leave skating to you, ice princess.” Eijiro gives you a mischievous wink before suddenly taking off.

“Catch me if you can.” You laugh into your scarf, following after him at a slower pace, unwilling to bring this moment to an end too quickly.

“This is a good spot.”

Izuku and Katsuki take a seat at opposite ends of the bench. They’re close enough to hear the commotion of the rink but far enough to not worry about you accidentally discovering them. There’s a new self-consciousness between the pair that neither seems to know how to move through.

“Kacchan —”

“Deku —”

They laugh awkwardly, the silence filling up space between them. Time lapses, and the silence grows more stifling. It’s Katsuki who takes the plunge first. He turns, so he’s facing the green-haired man to his left.

“We didn’t talk much after you left. After everything that happened when . . .”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that.”

“Glad you’re finally taking responsibility. The way you left things was really shitty, but that’s not why I brought it up. After you left, it never felt like the right, um, the right time to make amends, the right way. Which is total bullshit because there’s never a good time,” Katsuki wrings his hands, “Izuku, I’ve never properly apologized to you for our childhood. For the things that I —”

“Kacchan, please. You don’t have to apologize,” Izuku’s tone is frantic; he’s never seen Katsuki so repentant, “it’s all —” 

Katsuki clamps a hand over Izuku’s mouth.

“Don’t fuck-,” Katuski takes a deep inhale, “don’t interrupt me again. Got it?” Izuku nods, and Katsuki removes his hand.

“For the things that I put you through. I’m sorry for bullying you when we were little. For trying to make you feel small and worthless. For telling you to kill yourself. As I’ve gotten older and had time to reflect, I realize I was angry with myself. Angry about how weak you made me feel and how I never felt good enough no matter what I did. What’s worse is that I consciously chose you to be my punching bag because I knew you’d never stop extending out your hand to me. I took advantage of what made you strong. It was cruel."

Katsuki’s voice tapers off, and Izuku sits quietly, observing the man next to him. He can tell his friend has more to say.

“I’ve never admitted this to anyone, but in the beginning, I think. . . Fuck. I think I liked you as more than a friend, and that fucking terrified me. How could I, who had everything going for him, have liked someone like you — quirkless and insignificant in the eyes of our society.” 

Katsuki frowns in thought.

"That’s no excuse. None of this makes what I did to you acceptable. But I feel it's important that I acknowledge all of it if I'm going to apologize sincerely. Izuku, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry, and I promise I'll spend the rest of my life making amends — making sure that I do right by our younger selves.”

Katsuki finally looks up from his lap, where he's been picking at his palm, to find a weird expression on Izuku’s face. It makes the blonde feel awkward. He can feel himself clamming up.

"What!"

"You. . . Liked. . . Me?"

“Now, don’t go getting any fucking ideas, nerd. There is, and I fucking mean it, absolutely no chance, not this side of the universe, that I still like you. How in the hell is that what you take away from this — God and everyone calls me emotionally constipated!”

Izuku mumbles something under his breath, and Katsuki being Katsuki, isn’t about to let it go.

“What did you just say?” He narrows his eyes at Izuku.

“I said,” Izuku scoots closer than is necessary, his hand coming to rest over the one Katsuki has planted on the bench, “whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Katsuki snatches his hand away. The high-speed beating of his heart feels like a betrayal.

“You’re playing with fire.”

A smile splits Izuku’s face.

“It’s a good thing I don’t mind collecting scars.”

Izuku reaches out with his hand cautiously. There’s a slight tremble in his fingers as he inches his hand closer to his goal. Katsuki sits petrified as Izuku’s hand reaches out towards him. When fingertips softly follow their way up to his jaw, his stomach goes into a freefall. Izuku’s palm cradles the side of Katsuki’s face, and he lets out a quiet breath. Gingerly, they find their way closer to each other. Katsuki finally opens his eyes and finds himself lost in a sea of shamrock green.

“I’ve always loved your freckles.”

The confession comes unbidden, and the blush that dusts Izuku’s cheeks makes it okay.

"Yeah?” Izuku’s voice comes out breathy. His hand travels from the side of Katsuki’s face to rest at the nape of his neck where his fingers toy with soft blonde baby hairs.

“Mhm.” Katsuki swallows, licking his lips as he glances down at Izuku’s.

“Katsuki.”

His name is a confession and an invitation, all at once. The two men close their eyes, Izuku’s hand guiding Katsuki’s face closer. They can feel the other’s breath on their lips, their entire beings brimming with this rediscovered affection. So close — a notification chime pulls them from the moment. Their eyes flutter open, and as if the curtain has been drawn, they pull apart hastily. Katsuki clears his throat and checks his phone.

“They’re about to leave the rink. We should get going.”

Katsuki stands and avoids looking at Izuku. He takes off in the direction that Eijiro had directed, not even bothering to wait for the other man.

The Number One hero watches as Katsuki takes off at a brisk pace.

“Fuck.”

You walk out of the rink set up feeling like you’re on cloud nine. You’ve linked arms with Eijiro, having embraced this newfound freedom. You’re not sure what compels you to look over your shoulder, but when your gaze falls behind you, you notice something. Or should you say, someone. You squint and activate your quirk, but Eijiro tugs at your arm, disrupting your concentration. You turn your neck back around so you can look at him.

“All good, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Well, no, doesn’t that look like Izuku?” You nod towards behind you. Eijiro takes a quick look.

“Maybe? But what would he be doing out here? You said he was finishing up paperwork.”

“I know. That’s why I’m so confused.” You stop walking, making a decision to get to the bottom of this. You unlink your arm and turn around.

“Where are you going?”

“To make sure it’s not him, Eiji.”

“(Y/N), seriously,” you keep walking, avoiding Eijiro’s attempt to grab your wrist, “(Y/N)!”

“It’ll be quick, I promise, just give me a second.” You hear him release an exasperated breath. You pick up your pace, your suspicion growing the closer you get.

“Oh, crap Kacchan, she’s spotted us.”

“No shit.”

“What are we going to do? What if she’s already activated her quirk? You know she can give herself eagle vision. That’s, um, that’s twenty —”

Izuku’s panicked rambling is interrupted by the pressure of someone’s lips pressing against his own. He blinks, his arms limp at his sides, as his eyes transmit their view. It’s Katsuki. Katsuki is kissing him. The reality of the situation unlocks a part of Izuku he’s been keeping buried. The hero closes his eyes as he lets himself wade into the feelings bubbling up from the deep recesses of his mind.

“Holy, oh no,” you pull up short as the man you think is your boyfriend turns the peck into something much more passionate, “Nope. No. That is not my business.” You shake your head before you turn on your heel and high tail it back towards Eijiro. He’s still standing where you left him, his attention switching between you and the very bold PDA going on behind you. You snatch his arm and practically drag him away.

“This is exactly what I get for assuming. It’s not like Izuku has a monopoly on green hair in Japan. Fucking hell, did you see them? I mean, yeah, the times have changed, but damn. Never thought I’d see a couple sucking face that hard in public. Dude went for it, like, held not a thing back. If I wasn’t so mortified, I think I would’ve given him a pat on the back.”

“He actually did it. Wow.”

“What?” You frown at Eijiro’s odd comment. He looks at you like he’s just noticed you’re walking right beside him.

“Oh, uh, I mean, like you said, times have changed, and he did it, social expectations be damned.”

“Yeah . . .” You let the comment go, chalking it up to shock. You could literally count on one hand the times you’ve seen a couple make out in public. Granted that you do not include yourself in that number, but regardless the gist still stands.

“Do you want to stop and grab something before I drop you off at the station?” You leap at the chance to put this awkward snafu behind you.

“Yes, please! I am starving.”

Eijiro chuckles, taking your hand and leading the way.

“Good, I know a nice spot nearby.”

Izuku stands motionless, the pressure of Katsuki’s lips on his still unfathomable. The longer he stands, the more real it becomes until finally, Izuku lets his instincts take over. He presses his lips more firmly against Katsuki’s. His fingers ghost their way up the explosive hero's arms, relishing in the muscle underhand until they find themselves tangled in thick blonde hair. A breathy moan fills the air between them. The freckled man pulls the blonde closer until their bodies are flush. Chest to chest, their heartbeats synchronize. He parts his lips, sucking Katsuki's bottom lip between his teeth. When he gives it a nip, Izuku can't help but grin at the needy pant it elicits as he slips his tongue between Katsuki’s parted lips. Blood pounds in his ears as he surrenders to the moment. His skin prickles.

Katsuki growls into the kiss. His frustration at not being able to dominate satiated by cupping the back of Izuku’s neck and locking him in place. His free hand explores the groves and contours of Izuku’s body over the fabric of his clothing; Izuku’s hips buck when Katsuki’s hand strokes the front of his pants. Emboldened by the tightening coil of pleasure in his gut, Katsuki slips his hand under Izuku's shirt. The OFA user trembles under the soft caresses. The blonde feels a rush of heat wash over his whole body at the whimpers and gasps his exploration draws out of Izuku. His hands find their way to Izuku's ass, and he's loathed to admit, but it might be better than his.

Neither is willing to stop. Greedily, both men cling to the other. Izuku wishes he could climb Katsuki. Katsuki wishes he could pin Izuku to a tree. Hands touching, cupping, feeling everything. Lips bruised and tongues swirling. Even as their lungs begin to burn for air, they don’t pull apart like two opposite poles of a magnet finally facing each other. This moment has been a long time coming.

When they can finally no longer ignore their need for air, they pull apart. A thin string of saliva still connects them. Izuku uses the pad of his thumb to wipe it from Katsuki’s bottom lip. Katsuki parts his lips every so slightly so his tongue can dart out and tickle Izuku’s finger. Izuku bites back a moan. Crimson and emerald irises eclipsed by blown pupils. The pair bask in the intensity of their emotions, the sexual tension that envelops them, and the promise of things to come. As their breathing slowly levels off, the veil of their high fades too.

“What the fuck was that, Deku!” Katsuki steps back, his expression unsettled.

“Huh? You-you were the one who kissed me!” Izuku crosses his arms, shaken by the sudden change in atmosphere. 

“Yeah, with my lips closed! I was trying to keep it at a nice cool Studio Ghibli, and you had to go and, and. . . turn into a fucking hentai film!”

“That’s not. . .,” Izuku uncrosses his arms, his hurt turning into anger, “You didn’t seem too concerned when you were groping my ass!”

“I what!” Katsuki turns bright red, his face pinched in irritation, “I did not grope your ass!”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself .”

“Oh, fuck off, Deku. How am I supposed to explain this to Eijiro, huh? What do I say? Sorry, you had to see someone trying to touch my tonsils with their goddamn tongue! And what about (Y/N)? Are you going to tell her you were swapping spit with someone who wasn’t her?”

“Swapping spit, really? What was it you said to me when you were straddling me in your bed? Oh, right: we’re grown-ass men. I don’t think grown-ass men say swapping spit Katsuki.”

The explosive hero bares his teeth in a sneer.

“That is not relevant to this conversation.”

“I beg to differ. As a grown-ass man, of course, I’m going to tell (Y/N). As a matter of fact, I’m going to finally admit that, yeah, I might be more than just attracted to Eijiro. Hell, I've been more than just attracted to you for a long time — not like you ever noticed!”

Izuku watches the color drain from Katsuki’s face. He’s confused for a split second before he realizes what he’s just confessed. He snaps his mouth shut. The feeling of vulnerability leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Izuku makes a beeline for the street, ignoring Katsuki and his perplexed expression.

“Oi! Don’t turn your back on me! Deku! For fucks sake, come back here! We can’t just. . .” Izuku’s out of earshot, and Katsuki kicks at the ground angrily.

“Why’d he have to go and say that. Like things aren’t complicated enough.”

The explosive hero massages his forehead before he closes his eyes, trying to get his emotions in check. His mind conjures up the feeling of Izuku’s fingers on his skin. The heat of their kiss. How it felt right. Katsuki can hear Eijiro’s words from a few days ago, ‘If I’m going to have a foursome, I will be fucking everyone. Won’t you?’ Katsuki opens his eyes and focuses on the small blob that is Izuku in the distance. There are conversations that definitely need to be had.

“Christ. They’re always dragging me into shit.”

The twinge of disappointment you feel as the station comes into sight makes you feel guilty. It’s not like you can’t wait to get home to see Izuku, but your time spent with Eijiro today has been amazing. More than that, it had been simple. Once you step foot past the threshold into your shared apartment, the simplicity of your life is going to be blown to kingdom come. Worse, there’s still a tiny possibility that the little epiphany you had on the ice was just your subconscious trying to rationalize your desire to have sex with Katsuki and Eijiro, in which case you were definitely not letting yourself off the hook. You’d crossed a line already; if you did it again, you couldn't let Izuku stay in the relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

“Penny, for your thoughts?”

“Huh?” You look up, and Eijiro is looking at you with a concerned expression.

“You were looking pretty dejected. Anything I can do to help?”

“Oh. . . It’s nothing, I promise; I just have a lot on my mind. Thanks for checking in, though.”

You give his hand a squeeze, and he squeezes it back.

“I had fun today, ice princess.”

The nickname tugs a smile out of you, and you feel your spirits slowly start to lift.

“It was a blast. Thank you for this wonderful adventure, Eiji. I’d love to do it again.”

Eijiro gives you a certified manly all-tooth smile. None of your troubles feel material when he smiles at you like that. You keep on quietly, glancing at each other from the corners of your eyes. You’re not sure why, but you’re suddenly feeling awfully bashful. Reminiscent of your first date back in junior high. You guess that’s because this was kind of a first date.

When you arrive at the front of the station entrance, Eijiro releases your hand, pulling you into a farewell hug. You fit your head under his neck, ear to his chest, you listen to his heartbeat. You silently thank his heart for being so strong. You pull apart, though his arms are still wrapped around your waist.

“I guess this is goodbye.”

“Just for tonight.”

You lick your lips as a soft hum of electricity begins to fill the small space between your bodies. Eijiro’s attention is glued to your face. His eyes follow your every movement. You feel your pulse start to race when he begins to move his face closer. You close your eyes in anticipation. Eijiro’s lips are soft against your cheek. Wait, your cheek? You open your eyes, but he’s already pulling back. You trace the spot where he’s kissed you, a blush colors your face bright red. You step out of his arms, feeling embarrassed. You’re tongue-tied, so you settle with a hasty farewell wave before turning and hustling into the station. On your ride down the escalator to the platform, you try to organize your thoughts in preparation for the conversation you have to have with Izuku. Your only hope is that things shake out the way they’re supposed to, for better or for worse.

Eijiro waits until you disappear from his view before heading away from the station. He walks in the direction where Katsuki and Izuku have posted up. The three of them will definitely be having a talk before going their separate ways.

Katsuki and Izuku watch the redhead as he walks towards them.

“Did you see that?” 

“. . .” 

Katsuki grits his teeth. Izuku’s been silent since his accidental confession. And it’s not like the blonde hadn’t been trying to get the conversation started. It’s just that Japan’s number one hero is unbelievably obstinate, go figure.

“(Y/N) was obviously expecting a kiss on the lips, and he just gave her a little peck on the cheek. I don’t know why he didn’t just kiss her since that seems to be the fucking theme of the day.”

“It’s called building tension, babe.” Katsuki stiffens at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice.

“We can’t all bust in guns blazing. Or should I say tongues?”

Now both men stiffen, their apprehension visible in the way they work their jaws. Izuku steps forward.

“Eijiro-kun, I should —”

Eijiro yanks the front of Izuku’s shirt, dragging the man, so they’re face to face. Without a second thought, the redhead crashes his lips against the freckled man’s. Eijiro doesn’t wait for permission; he forces Izuku’s mouth open, slipping his tongue in to explore. One hand still gripping the fabric of Izuku’s shirt, the other cradling the back of his neck. Izuku whimpers as arousal pools in between his legs. Deep desperation overtakes the OFA heir, and he yanks Eijiro by the waistband of his pants, their hips colliding.

“Ah. . .” Eijiro breaks the kiss, his chest heaves. He drops the hand at Izuku’s neck to stop one of Izuku’s hands from getting any closer to his crotch.

“What. The. Fuck!” Two strong arms push the duo apart; they stagger, just barely catching their footing. Katsuki practically vibrates with wrath. He turns on his boyfriend.

“The fuck was that Eijiro!”

“That made us even.”

“Oh my God. I’m dating a fucking child. This is — Fuck!” The blonde shouts the last word elongating the vowel for emphasis, his face turned to the sky. He releases a few mini-explosions from his palms for good measure.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes.” Katsuki begrudgingly replies, though he still has a sour look on his face.

“Good, now we can have a grown-up discussion. There’s a nice bar nearby. Let’s go.”

Eijiro heads off as if the last few minutes were nothing out of the norm. Izuku stares at his back and then glances at Katsuki, who’s still standing next to him, silently fuming. After a few moments, the blonde follows after his boyfriend leaving Izuku still shell shocked in place. Katsuki looks over his shoulder,

“Come on, it’ll be best to have this conversation over a beer. Or ten.”

“Okay.” Izuku hurries to catch up to Katsuki, his mind reeling. Not for the first time, Izuku thinks he might be in over his head, but he's come too far to back out now. One way or another, this foursome was happening.