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When Izuku turns mid-battle to see Shouto completely shrouded in a column of sparkling golden pink light, he feels like his heart might actually jump out of his chest.
“Shouto!” Izuku screams, flashing in a trail of green lightning to get to Shouto’s side between one breath and the next. But even as Izuku crashes into Shouto and sweeps him away from the attack, he can see how the mysterious light is already fading out of existence, like the beam of power has already been snuffed out.
Izuku lands with a resounding crash at the other end of the street, Shouto tucked tightly against his chest. He lets the other heroes on site deal with the villain for now, he has more pressing matters to deal with. He sets Shouto down on the sidewalk, hands shaky with terror, running questing fingers over Shouto’s body, trying to figure out what that horrible golden light could have done to him, to see if he can force any damage to disappear just by the power of his will-
“Izuku -”
Late, late, late . He seems to only ever pick up the pieces after the harm’s been done to the ones he loves, even with all his power, all his gifts, and if that is the case, what is it all for? He can’t stand it if anything’s happened to Shouto, not Shouto -
“Izuku, listen -”
But nothing seems to be wrong with him. Shouto’s chest feels solid beneath Izuku’s frantic touch as always, no blood soaking through the fabric of his hero costume. His skin is as luminous and lovely as ever, no bruises marring the surface, no clamminess to the touch. Even Shouto’s breaths are steady, and his pulse beats are strong at his throat, if a little bit quicker than usual. Then again, they were in the middle of a giant battle mere moments ago, so it isn’t surprising that Shouto’s heartbeat is quicker -
“Izuku, I am fine. Can you hear me? Izuku. Please, listen, I’m alright .”
Izuku finally manages to draw a full breath of air.
Because, yeah. Unbelievably, miraculously, Shouto really does seem completely fine.
“You are sure?” Izuku checks one last time anyway, voice soft and pleading.
“I feel completely fine,” Shouto reassures, taking Izuku’s face between his hands in concern, swiping a thumb over the scatter of freckles on Izuku’s cheek the way he likes to do. “I will tell you if I start to feel unwell, okay? Now let me up so we can finish apprehending that villain.”
Izuku blinks down at Shouto, then scrambles back in haste, blushing slightly at how he’d been straddling Shouto’s thighs and holding him down while checking up on him, right in the middle of the street. Dozens of people are around them, including many civilians watching the fight. Izuku rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to ward off the heat rising there.
“Yeah, okay,” Izuku says, turning back to face the way they came, where the now-unconscious villain is being rolled into a police vehicle in quirk-canceling cuffs. He darts a quick glance at Shouto, one final reassurance, before getting back to hero work. “I still want you to go to our agency’s clinic and get checked out before we head home though.”
“Okay,” Shouto agrees easily, because he always is so very easy and malleable when it comes to Izuku.
Izuku shuffles in place for a second, then bites the bullet and takes Shouto’s right hand in his own, walking back towards the incident site.
*
This thing between Shouto and him is still fairly new.
They fell in from best friends to lovers so smoothly and seamlessly that even they can’t tell when one turned into another. They have only been “official” for a few months now. It is new enough that Izuku still wakes up some days to a burst of surprised happiness unfurling in his gut to see Shouto’s sleeping face nestled beside his own on his bed. New enough that he feels all soft and mushy at the sheer domesticity of it all when he comes home to Shouto’s blue shoes neatly stacked side-by-side with his own chunky red sneakers. That he hangs on to Shouto’s every soft smile and laugh, collecting them like a child gathering seashells at the beach.
And there are other new things.
Discoveries made in the safe secrecy of their home, where he can coax all the walls around Shouto’s heart to crumble, make him ask and want and take, moan and sigh and cry…
“Izuku,” Shouto says, sounding a bit amused at Izuku just standing there, wool-gathering. It is an hour later, and the villain is safely in police custody. They have given their statements to the authorities, have coordinated with first responders to care for injured civilians, and made note of property damage from the attack to give to the insurance teams. There’s nothing left to do here. “Shall we go back to the agency now?”
“Ah, right!” Izuku says, shaking himself out of thoughts he definitely should not be thinking about while on duty after a villain fight . Even if it is about his very hot boyfriend who he loves very much. “Sorry, yes. Yes, Let’s go back.”
*
Izuku hops from one rooftop to the next while Shouto zips across the roads below on a continuous sheet of ice. By the time they get back to the agency, Izuku has already almost forgotten about the pale golden pink light that the villain had attacked Shouto with, a bit over an hour ago.
“Do you want to go out for dinner?” Izuku asks when they are alone in the locker rooms, changing back to civilian clothes. He hops on one foot to pull on his jeans, trying not to ogle Shouto’s ass. Shouto is wearing only his tiny white boxers that leave very little to the imagination. Izuku licks his lips as Shouto bends down in front of him, rummaging around in his gym bag for something.
“Hmm, don’t know,” Shouto replies, straightening up with a bundle of clothes in one hand, absent-mindedly scratching at his stomach. Izuku’s mouth goes a little bit dry as his eyes are inevitably drawn to the sparse hairs of the two-toned happy trail that disappear into Shouto’s boxers, a route map he’s followed with his eyes and lips and tongue many, many, many times. His brain conjures up the last time, a couple days ago, when Shouto let out the most delicious little moans, nearly screaming when Izuku finally took his cock in his mouth...
Heat pools in Izuku’s belly, and he tries to ward it off before he gets hard or something. Because boyfriend or not, this is a public locker room, at their workplace , and hardly the time to be starting something. Izuku shakes his head a little, as if he can physically swat those sinful little thoughts away. Focus .
(Besides, he promises to himself, he will make up for it later tonight when he gets Shouto alone in their bedroom.)
“Mmm, maybe that bibimbap place that Kirishima and Bakugou were speaking about the other day?” Shouto is saying, picking up a soft green t-shirt from Izuku’s earliest Hero Deku merch collection.
“I don’t know if either of us can handle any place Kacchan recommends,” Izuku says, unable to stop himself from tracing with hungry eyes the ripple of muscles beneath Shouto’s soft skin as he moves. “Even Kirishima is hard to trust now after so many years of hanging around Kacchan.”
Shouto huffs out a little laugh under his breath, head ducked to pull a T-shirt over his head. His head pops out a moment later, the red-and-white sides thoroughly mixed up and tousled.
Izuku wants to mess him up more .
Aaand these intrusive horny thoughts aren’t going anywhere today, apparently.
But if that’s the case anyway -
“Hey, um, Shouto,” Izuku says in a low, husky voice. Shouto stiffens, seeming to sense the shift in mood from casual to something more intent . He blinks, turning to face Izuku, a pair of navy blue joggers held loosely in his hand. With his wildly messy hair, and old faded t-shirt, with miles of powerful legs exposed, and wearing those tight little boxer shorts. He looks good enough to eat . “I am thinking,” Izuku moves forward to be closer, closer. Pushing up into Shouto’s space, gaze lingering on Shouto’s mouth. “What if we just go home instead? We can order takeout after , if we feel like it.”
Izuku reaches out one scarred hand, running a crooked and callused thumb against Shouto’s soft, pink, plump little mouth. He presses down, entranced by the inviting fullness of Shouto’s lower lip, so pliant, so willing . Shouto’s gaze instantly darkens, Izuku’s own want reflected back in them.
“Uh,” Shouto’s voice is breathy. He starts to lean in, eyes fixed on Izuku’s mouth. “Yes, um, dinner can wait. Let’s go home.”
Their lips are mere inches apart when Shouto pauses, head tilting to one side, a small frown crinkling the space between his brows. His whole face scrunches in confusion, and he pulls back a bit.
“What’s wrong?” Izuku says, moving back a little too, peering up at Shouto in worry. “Shouto?”
“Something feels… weird ,” Shouto says, looking down at his own body now. His left hand moves to the juncture between his legs. Shouto presses down at his crotch with the heel of his palm, expression baffled. “Something’s not right - I feel like I’m - oh .”
Shouto clutches at his crotch through his underwear, eyes going wide. His head shoots up to stare back at Izuku, his mouth parted in almost comical shock.
“Izuku, my dick is missing?!”
Of all the things Izuku was preparing himself for, he can say for sure that he did not expect that .
Izuku gapes at Shouto, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. “Your - your dick is missing?” he finally manages to splutter out in a croak.
“Yes,” Shouto says, yanking the elastic band of his underwear away from himself to peer down at his crotch. “I really don’t see my dick!”
“I - what -?!”
“And just now, when I was getting turned on - I could feel myself getting wet .”
Izuku feels his soul leave his body, and all the blood in his brain rush straight to his (still very present and very interested) dick.
“ What did you just -?!”
Izuku stops, taking a deep calming breath. The fresh influx of oxygen restores a little bit of life to his brain cells, and his mind helpfully flashes back to earlier in the evening. When the villain’s sparkling pink gold light enshrouded Shouto.
“The villain earlier,” Shouto says like a curse, and Izuku opens his eyes to see Shouto has arrived at the same conclusion.
They stare at each other in stunned horror for a couple of seconds.
“Oh shit .”
*
“And you are sure he will be back to normal in a couple of days?” Izuku asks the doctor for the umpteenth time, biting his nails.
“Yes,” she replies again, wry. “I gave him a shot of quirk metabolizers, so any outside quirks affecting him will work through his system within the next forty eight hours.”
“And things will be back to - ah - normal after?” Shouto asks, a little apprehensive. “I will still be able to - uh - you know,” he makes a vaguely suggestive gesture that Izuku really wishes he hadn’t made in front of their agency’s chief medical personnel.
The doctor seems to be fighting back a laugh. “Not to worry. But in case you notice anything different, or experience any - ah - dysfunction , please do let me know and I’ll check you over again in a couple of days.”
Izuku thanks the doctor profusely, sincerely hoping they’ll never have to come back to this room to discuss Shouto’s dick again.
*
In the end, they pick up a simple dinner of miso soup, seaweed salad, and sushi from the conbini at the end of their street.
Dinner is a quiet affair. Shouto’s focused on the food, his face set in his usual blank expression as he eats. But Izuku knows he can’t be as calm as he appears on the outside, because he is decidedly not meeting Izuku’s eyes the whole time.
Izuku would know. Because he himself is finding it hard not to stare at Shouto the entire time as he eats, his eyes lingering on the jut of Shouto’s clavicle peeking from the neck of his t-shirt, the plumpness of Shouto’s lips, the soft skin behind his ear that always smells the most like him, a heady mix of the musk of his cologne, a hint of sweat, and something smoky and crisp that is all Shouto.
Then, of course, there is the other issue.
Izuku’s brain keeps stalling on what Shouto said earlier like a clogged engine failing to catch. About how Shouto was turned on, earlier, and how it made him wet .
Saliva floods Izuku’s mouth and it has nothing to do with the tuna roll he just picked up.
Fuck .
Izuku sets down his chopsticks, unabashedly staring at the object of all his affections and perverted thoughts. Shouto is still demurely looking down at the table, cheeks full and round as he chews on a sushi roll. He is so cute, so unbelievably cute. Izuku could just eat him up .
His throat feels suddenly parched and Izuku picks up his cup of cold-brewed green tea, draining it in three large gulps. He sets down the cup, back to staring at Shouto, who is now quietly sipping his own cup of tea, chopsticks neatly laid down.
Izuku just - he wants to lick Shouto all over. It’s not an unusual impulse for him to have, really. More than one dinner has ended with him spreading Shouto out and exploring every inch of him with his lips and teeth and tongue. And right now, all Izuku wants is to carry Shouto to their bedroom, and tumble him on top of their soft cotton sheets. To part Shouto’s strong muscled thighs and bury his face between them. He wants lick in, to see and touch and taste this new part of Shouto that he’s never had before.
Izuku shakes his head again, knowing his whole face must be flushed red as a tomato by now.
Ugh, he really is a pervert. His boyfriend’s body has been changed, without his consent , by some gross villain’s quirk, and here Izuku is, salivating at the idea of making use of it to get off. He should go sit in the shower and think upon these sins, he should apologize to Shouto for being a dirty, dirty man, and -
“You’re thinking about it too, right?” Shouto asks, setting down his cup of tea with a little clink .
“Huh?”
“You are also wondering how it’ll feel if you fucked me when I’m like this,” Shouto says matter-of-factly. He pauses briefly then adds, as if it needs any clarification, “In my - my pussy , I mean.”
For the second time that night, all the blood in Izuku’s head rushes straight to his dick.
Honestly, it’s Izuku’s fault.
For forgetting that Shouto has always kept pace with him step for step, no matter what.
“I -” Izuku looks Shouto up and down with hungry eyes, licking his lips. “Yes, I am definitely wondering that.” He meets Shouto’s eyes, letting him freely see how badly he wants him just now. “I am also wondering how it’ll feel to bury my face between your thighs and lick into you.”
The way Shouto’s mouth drops open and his cheeks go rosy-pink with a blush makes Izuku’s dick pulse with want. He discreetly adjusts his hard length in his pants.
“Okay,” Shouto says on an exhale. “ Yes .”
Izuku doesn’t need telling twice.
The noise of the chair legs scraping against the wooden floor is deafening in the silence that has descended between them. Izuku feels like he can hear Shouto’s rapid heartbeat, can see the staccato rhythm of Shouto’s pulse beating beneath the soft delicate skin of his wrists. Electricity seems to be passing between them, charging the very air in the room.
With shaky hands Izuku clears up the meager detritus of their store-bought meal, quickly emptying the dining table. Shouto leans against the table, fingers absently toying with the hem of his shirt as his eyes remain fixed on Izuku.
Izuku throws away the takeout containers, loads the used cups in the dishwasher. He washes his hands and dries them with a paper towel. He takes a deep, measured breath, and slowly lets it out.
And then he turns around and stalks towards Shouto.
“Still okay?” Izuku murmurs against the warmth of Shouto’s neck, crowding him against the dining table, caging him there and keeping him, leaving possessive little nips and kisses all over the long column of his tempting throat.
“Y-yes,” Shouto says, right hand lifting to card through Izuku’s hair, left hair tangling in the front of Izuku’s shirt. “ Very okay.”
“Good,” Izuku says, and lifts Shouto up onto the table like he doesn’t weigh anything. Which, considering Izuku can casually bench press a whole truck now if he wanted, he doesn’t.
“Oh,” Shouto breathes, eyelids fluttering. Izuku leans forward and licks him there, over the delicate butterfly-wing skin of his eyelids. He doesn’t understand how Shouto can taste so sweet, even here. “Ah, Izuku -”
“Let me,” Izuku says, panting a bit as he pulls back and yanks Shouto’s shirt over his head, leaving him a mess. “Just let me -”
“Anything,” Shouto gives in to him before he can even ask, and god, if that isn’t the biggest fucking rush in the world. “Anything, you want - ah, Izuku .”
“Fuck,” Izuku yanks down Shouto’s joggers too, leaving him dressed just in those indecently tiny tight boxers, splayed on their kitchen table like a vision from all of Izuku’s wet dreams. “Shouto, you are so gorgeous.”
Shouto’s eyes roll back in his head, and he leans further back on the table, the arch of his neck, the curve of his spine, all of it so beautiful. Izuku splays his scarred hand on Shouto’s warm stomach, feeling how the muscles flex beneath his touch. He trails his fingers down, down, down , finally snagging on the hem of Shouto’s boxers.
Shouto’s gaze is intent and intense when Izuku looks up at him, and he nods. In one swift movement, Izuku yanks down the boxers and tosses them to the side on the floor.
At a quick glance, Shouto looks no different than usual. The small thatch of red-and-white curls between his legs, which usually partially obscures his soft cock, looks the same as always. Except, this time when Izuku slowly, slowly parts Shouto’s legs, his devouring eyes are greeted by a slit .
“Fuck,” Izuku growls, fingers pressing into Shouto’s thighs, leaving faint finger-shaped bruises. He settles himself comfortably between Shouto’s legs and spreads him open wider , parting his thighs fully, revealing the core of him. One of Shouto’s hands clutches hard onto Izuku’s shoulder but he barely even notices, absolutely captivated by the sight of the pretty pink pussy slowly unfurling for him. The pussy lips glisten, and even as Izuku watches, fascinated, Shouto’s small pink hole contracts and gushes out a fresh trickle of his juices.
“Fuck, Shou, if you could see how wet you are for me already,” Izuku says reverently. “So pretty for me, such a good boy, getting yourself all nice and wet to take my dick.” Izuku runs a finger lightly along the seam of Shouto’s pussy. A shudder runs through Shouto’s body, and he moans, thighs twitching. Izuku holds him steady, drinking in the unbelievably erotic sight of him.
They haven’t even started yet and Izuku feels undone. “Stop me if anything feels bad,” is all Izuku can manage in words before diving right in.
The first taste nearly makes him cum in his pants like he’s still a wet-behind-the-ears teenage virgin.
Somehow, here in this new and intimate part of him, Shouto still tastes like himself. The scent of his natural musk, the taste of his skin, with something else , something spicy and warm and intoxicating as honey mead. Izuku dips his tongue into Shouto’s soft wet open folds, pressing in till his nose is buried against wiry pubic curls.
“Izuku, fuck, fuck ,” Shouto, normally so quiet even while getting fucked, is moaning so loudly that Izuku is actually worried about their neighbors hearing. “ Izuku . You have no idea, you - yes ,” Shouto groans, right hand clenching in Izuku’s hair, pressing him closer, urging him to lick in deeper.
Izuku isn’t complaining. He feels light-headed, drunk , on the scent, the taste, the feel of Shouto’s cunt under his mouth, his hand. He uses his fingers to spread him open more, to lick into him farther, massaging the outer lips of Shouto’s pussy. He finds the little nub of Shouto’s clit, and rolls it experimentally between his thumb and forefinger, pressing down.
Shouto’s fingers tighten to the point of pain in Izuku’s hair. With a bitten-off scream, Shouto bucks his hips against Izuku’s mouth, and he comes .
Izuku sits there, dick hard to the point of pain within the constraint of his jeans, while Shouto comes on his tongue. The walls of Shouto’s pussy contract and flutter against Izuku’s mouth as Shouto comes down from one of the most intense and earth-shaking orgasms of his life.
“That - that was,” Shouto pants, and Izuku reluctantly moves back a bit from licking up Shouto’s come. He sits back to take a look, and his cock actually throbs at the sight that greets him.
Shouto looks debauched. He hasn’t bothered to close his legs, his puffy pink and messy pussy fully on display. He is lying on the table, one arm flung over his forehead, the other clenching and unclenching on his heaving stomach. His face is flushed and sweaty, lips bitten red, messy red-white hair like a spilled halo around his head.
Izuku can’t handle a second more of waiting.
“Shouto,” he says in a husky voice, stumbling to his feet and clumsily starting to pull off his jeans. His cock, rock-hard and flushed and leaking, springs out of his underwear. He needs to be in Shouto right now , or he’s going to lose it. “Shouto, do you think you can handle it if I fucked you now?”
Shouto, still struggling to catch his breath, doesn’t answer so much in words. His hand trails down from his stomach to his mound. He hesitates there, fingers uncertain as he explores this alien part of him. And then he slides his fingers along his wet slit, spreading them open, wordlessly demanding that Izuku fill him up.
“ Izuku ,” is all he says, and Izuku is hastening to fulfill the demand in that word.
He lines up the fat head of his cock against where Shouto is open and pink and sopping wet. Fuck, the way Shouto’s folds grip onto him.
In one smooth thrust, Izuku buries himself in Shouto’s pussy to the hilt.
Shouto moans loud and long in Izuku’s ear as he leans down and braces himself against the table, settling in to pound into Shouto. Shouto feels like actual heaven around him, so wet and hot and tight , his walls clenching around Izuku to the point of pain. This is not Izuku’s first - or even his hundredth - time fucking Shouto, but his pussy feels so different and new around him compared to his ass, his body familiar yet not.
Izuku plants a quick and dirty kiss on Shouto’s gasping mouth, licking in between parted lips, letting Shouto taste himself on his tongue. Izuku pulls out a little, then buries himself in Shouto again with a sharp thrust.
“ Full ,” Shouto gasps, eyes unfocused, mouth drooling just a bit, legs falling open wider to give Izuku easier access. He is the picture of wanton pleasure. Izuku has to squeeze the base of his dick to stop himself from coming immediately.
“Yes, you are taking me so well, Shou,” Izuku grunts, pulling back almost all the way only to sink back into Shouto with a brutal thrust. Shouto lets out a choked out gasp, his moans like music to Izuku’s ears.
Izuku sets a hard pace, trying to angle himself just how Shouto usually likes to get him to come again. He leans down to rest fully on Shouto, letting the weight of his body drive his thrusts, elbows resting on either side of Shouto’s head, muffling his own groans on Shouto’s willing mouth.
The table creaks ominously under them.
Izuku freezes mid-thrust, blinking out of his haze. Shouto whines, pressing his hand to the small of Izuku’s back, trying to get him to move again.
“Wait, Shouto,” Izuku says, panting. “I think our table can’t take both our weight. Let me - let’s just -”
Shouto’s legs are already wrapped around him, so it is nothing for Izuku to support Shouto’s ass with both hands and lift him up. The new angle makes Izuku’s cock sink even deeper into where Shouto’s still fully seated on him.
“ Fuck ,” Shouto moans against Izuku’s neck, hands scrabbling to clutch at his back.
“I could easily fuck you just like this, you know,” Izuku says, thrusting up into Shouto again, reveling in the noises he can tease out of him. “Carrying you is easy, I don’t even need One for All for this.” And it’s true. Izuku’s muscles are so jacked up from years of using One for All that carrying around the 70-something kilograms of Shouto’s densely-muscled form is nothing. Shouto knows this already, but still, it makes his pussy clench around him as he writhes.
Izuku briefly considers making true on those words and just fucking Shouto like this till they both come. But no. He wants to spread Shouto out and drink in every overwhelmed expression on his face as he wrecks his pussy.
Decided, Izuku heads straight for the bedroom, and drops down on the bed, Shouto still seated on his cock.
Izuku looks up at his gorgeous boyfriend and is briefly tempted to just lay back and enjoy the show. Make Shouto fuck himself down on Izuku’s cock to get them off.
But, next time, next time .
This first time, he wants to be the one wringing every ounce of pleasure from Shouto’s body.
Izuku flips them, settling down in the same position as before, elbows braced beside Shouto’s head, their faces inches apart breathing in each other’s breaths. He revels in the dazed emotions that flit across Shouto’s flushed face as pulls out all the way and shoves his cock back in with a powerful thrust.
And just like that, they are back on the knife’s edge.
Izuku gets lost in the unbelievable pleasure of it, falling into a rhythm, Shouto hot and tight around his cock. Izuku bends him in half, Shouto’s legs around his waist urging him to fuck deeper, harder, their gasps and swears muffled against each other’s lips and skin.
There are a few delightful discoveries they make about Shouto having a pussy. For one, Izuku can make Shouto come on his cock and keep going , without the oversensitivity getting to be too much. Shouto’s pussy just takes it, made to be pounded into the mattress, hot and wet and greedy and clenching, taking everything Izuku can give him and demanding more.
When Izuku finally comes, it makes him nearly black out. Shouto’s been having near-continuous orgasms for the last few minutes, back arching, writhing against the sheets as he clenches to the point of pain around Izuku’s cock.
“Izuku, I can’t ,” Shouto moans, nails biting into Izuku’s back, and the sight of him like this, so utterly ruined, the complete mess Izuku has managed to make of him
It finally tips Izuku over the edge too. He feels like he actually comes his brains out. He groans long and deep, his hips stuttering and pressing hard against Shouto’s, cock pulsing deep inside his pussy where no one has ever touched him before. Shouto’s back arches and miraculously, incredibly , he’s coming again, his inner walls squeezing down on Izuku’s cock to the point of overstimulation.
Izuku collapses on top of Shouto, tremors wracking up and down his spine, his cock slowly softening inside Shouto. Shouto grunts under the weight, but is able to take it, because it’s not just Izuku who is strong.
They have always been a match for each other, in every way.
“Okay?” Shouto asks softly, as if he isn’t the one who just came half-a-dozen times while getting fucked into next week. His thighs are still trembling a bit with the aftershocks of his multiple orgasms.
Izuku’s heart swells with affection. With a tremendous effort, he heaves himself back up on his elbows, lifting one hand to gently brush Shouto’s hair away from his eyes.
“Better than okay,” Izuku says, smiling down. “I’m amazing.”
“Hmm.”
“Look at you,” Izuku continues, unable to keep his eyes off what an utter mess he’s made of Shouto. “God, you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Shouto’s eyes are hooded and intense as they flit over Izuku’s chest, down to where his soft cock is still buried in Shouto’s pussy. He clenches around Izuku suddenly, his channel tight and snug. Izuku gasps and collapses on top of him again, shuddering.
“Too much?” Shouto asks innocently, only a little apologetic. He’s such a little shit.
“You just give me five more minutes,” Izuku says, both a threat and a promise. “I’ll be ready to go again then, and I’m going to destroy you.”
Shouto lifts one eyebrow. “Pretty sure I can handle that.”
Izuku’s pretty sure he can too.
Well, they’ll find out soon enough. Izuku can barely wait.