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Izuku peeled off his shirt, draped it over a shoulder, and dumped half his water bottle onto his head. The cool water dripped down his bare neck and back and chest, and he sighed in relief. One for All had a tendency to make him overheat no matter the season, and he was panting and hot despite the chill of the 6AM February air. He let his body slump forward, hands touching toes, forehead kissing knees, and forced his legs to relax. The stretch in his hamstrings felt good after his morning 5k. He rolled up slowly, interlocking his fingers and reaching for the sky, letting his back muscles crack and made direct eye contact with Kaminari through the Heights Alliance window. 

He was staring at Izuku with his mouth hanging open, an ignored book dangling from his hands. Izuku wasn’t really surprised at seeing him in the common room so early on a Saturday morning— Kaminari was painfully extroverted and tried very hard to minimise the amount of time he spent alone in his room— but he was surprised at the odd expression on his face.

(Kaminari had also accidentally short-circuited the lights after a nightmare, and had to restart the generator with his quirk— by which time it was already sunrise, so he had just sighed, grabbed some easy, distracting read and made his way downstairs. But Izuku didn’t know that, and Kaminari didn’t plan on telling him.)

Izuku gave him an awkward little wave through the window and quickly ran through the rest of his post-run stretches. He drank his remaining water and headed inside.

“Morning, sexy,” Kaminari said, as soon as Izuku walked into the common room.

Izuku hoped that Kaminari would chalk up the sudden flush in his cheeks to exercise. “Uh, good morning, Kaminari.” He was just shirtless and sweaty and that’s the kind of joke people make when someone is shirtless and sweaty. Kaminari was a natural flirt. Izuku tried not to let it get to him. 

He disconnected his wired earphones, already coiling them up to shove into his pocket, and… his phone immediately beeped a low-battery warning. Izuku winced. Hopefully Kaminari didn’t think he had somehow managed to do that on purpose.

“Phone’s dead?” Kaminari grinned at him.

Izuku glanced down at his screen. “It’s at 10 percent,” Izuku said. “But you don’t have to charge it for me or anything! I know you hate it when people make you do that.”

“I don’t mind if it’s you,” Kaminari said, his voice sly.

“O-Oh,” Izuku said, both confused and oddly flustered.

“Gimme,” Kaminari said, holding out his hand. He slipped a bookmark into the book he was reading and put it on the table. The bookmark was black with a repeating pattern of yellow lighting bolts and orange starbursts. Hmm. Interesting.

Izuku stared at the outstretched hand, shrugged, and handed his phone over. Kaminari drew out a cord from his pocket, plugged one end into Izuku’s phone and shoved the other end into his mouth. Izuku’s phone lit up and chimed a tone.

“What are you reading?” Izuku asked, nodding to the book on the table. Maybe it was unfair of him, but he hadn’t really thought of Kaminari as much of a reader. 

“YA trash,” Kaminari said, with an unabashed smile, words ever so slightly slurred through the cord in his mouth. “Guilty pleasure.” (And easy on the mind after a PTSD nightmare, he didn’t add.)

Izuku frowned at the cover. “Japanese?” 

“English.”

Right, Kaminari was fluent because he had an American mom. “I don’t, uh, usually see you reading,” Izuku said, hoping it didn’t come out as judgemental as it sounded to his ears.

Luckily, Kaminari took it in stride. “I usually listen to audiobooks. Easier to focus. Plus, your Kacchan makes fun of me every time he sees a book in my hand. And then makes even more fun when he sees it’s not some dry, boring classic.”

Izuku winced. “Yeah… that sounds like Kacchan.” 

Kaminari grabbed the bookmark out of his book and waved it at Izuku. It took him a second to realise that Kacchan had probably gifted it to Kaminari. (Izuku didn’t notice, however, that the bookmark was handmade— Katsuki had accidentally ripped up Kaminari’s old one. Kaminari had tried desperately not to let it show that he was somewhat sentimentally attached to it, but when Kaminari woke up the next morning, his dog-eared page had been carefully unfolded and this new, lovingly made bookmark slid in its place.) “He doesn’t mean it,” Kaminari said.

Izuku knew that, but his heart warmed at the realisation that Kacchan’s close friends saw through his prickly exterior as well. “He never did.”

Kaminari ran a careful finger down the bookmark before putting it back in its place. When he looked up, Izuku couldn’t help fidget at the odd intensity in his gaze. “I don’t know about that…”

“He always cared,” Izuku insisted. “He just didn’t know how to show it.”

“Oh, he showed it,” Kaminari said with a laugh. “He doesn’t know how to say it. And spends an unnecessary amount of effort making sure people don’t notice.”

“That’s… true,” Izuku admitted. “But you notice,” he said with a smile.

“I’m not as dumb as people think I am,” Kaminari said.

“You’re not dumb,” Izuku said immediately. “You have ADHD in an education system that failed you. Also, you’re one of the most socially aware people I know.”

Kaminari’s eyes widened in surprise. “It was just a joke,” Kaminari said, voice a little small. “Also, Kaachaan’s study groups help.”

“I’m glad,” Izuku said, smiling at the way Kaminari drew out Kacchan’s name, and going with the obvious change in topic. “Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh, just blurt that out loud.”

“No problem, man.” Kaminari said. And then after a second, “You know, I’m surprised he lets us get away with a nickname like that.”

“Yeah, me too, honestly,” Izuku admitted. “He never took offense to it. Even when he hated me.”

“You don’t care? It’s your name for him, after all.”

Izuku let his smile turn sly as he threw Kaminari’s words back at him. “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

Kaminari's mouth fell open in surprise, and then he laughed out loud and it was so carefree and lovely that Izuku couldn’t help but smile along. “He’s kind of complicated, isn’t he?”

“And yet also weirdly simple.”

Kaminari hummed in agreement. They both fell silent, contemplating the mess of a human being that is Katsuki Bakugou. And then Izuku’s eyes fixated back to the phone in Kaminari’s hand, somewhat fascinated. Kaminari’s quirk was so cool. And Izuku had always thought the day to day application of it was fascinating. Part of Izuku wondered if maybe Kaminari preferred audiobooks simply because he had an affinity for electronics. He wondered if there was a way to test that. Maybe Izuku could—

“Sooo, you got any plans for Valentine's Day?” Kaminari asked, breaking him out of his reverie. Izuku tried not to flush when he realised he had just been zoning out and staring at Kaminari’s hands.

Then the words registered. Valentine's Day. Oh. Izuku had completely forgotten. “No,” Izuku said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve never been big on it.”

“Why not?” Kaminari said. Izuku tried not to stare at Kaminari’s mouth but it was hard when he was swirling the end of the charger with his tongue like that.

Izuku shrugged. “No one’s ever really liked me in that way.”

Kaminari laughed like this was the funniest thing in the world. 

Ouch.

Izuku fidgeted. Sure, he was a little pathetic, but there was no need for Kaminari to rub salt into his wounds like this. 

And then Kaminari seemed to register Izuku’s discomfort and his face fell. “Oh my god, you’re serious.” 

“I—” Izuku stuttered. “I think I should probably head upstairs. Shower and stuff, you know,” Izuku said in a rush, reaching out towards his phone.

“Wait!” Kaminari said. “I might—”

But Izuku’s hand was already on its way and as soon as his fingers made contact with his phone, a sharp shock went up his arm. He let out a yelp that was more surprise than pain.

“—shock you,” Kaminari finished.

“Oh,” Izuku said, cradling his hand. 

Kaminari looked at him a little guiltily. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“No!” Izuku immediately assured. “Just felt… weird.” 

“Like static?” Kaminari asked with a small smile. 

“Like static.” Izuku agreed.

“But more intense?” 

“But more intense.” 

Kaminari laughed. “Yeah, that’s what Kiri says too.” 

Izuku tilted his head. “You can’t feel it?” 

“It feels different to me,” Kaminari said. “Less like a shock and more like… a pleasant buzz.” And then Kaminari gave him a grin that made Izuku’s heart speed up for some reason. “It feels kinda good sometimes.”

“Oh,” Izuku said. He bit his lip as the number of questions he had about Kaminari’s quirk doubled. 

“Do you want me to show you?” Kaminari asked, almost as if reading his mind.

“Yes!” Izuku said. “I mean, uh, if that’s okay with you.”

“You’re not scared I might hurt you?” Kaminari asked, amused.

“It’s fine if you do,” Izuku said. Because it was. He had a high pain tolerance. He doubted Kaminari could break that threshold when he wasn't even trying on a random Saturday morning.

Kaminari blinked at him in surprise. “I was just joking, man. I’m not actually going to hurt you.” 

“I know!” Izuku said immediately. “I’m just saying it’s okay if you do!”

Kaminari stared at him a little sadly (brain running through Izuku’s broken bones, his quirk mishaps, his role in the war) and then shook off the expression, face falling into what Izuku had started calling the “Kaminari smirk.” 

“Okay!” Kaminari said.

“Okay?”

“Sure, give me your hand,” Kaminari said, taking his hand in his. “Might be… hmm… a little intense though. If you’re not used to it, I mean.”

Izuku just shrugged. He hadn’t been lying when he had said he didn’t mind if Kaminari hurt him. “Okay.” 

For a second he felt nothing, just the feeling of Kaminari cupping Izuku’s hand in both of his. Which in itself was quite pleasant. And then he felt a building… pressure throughout his body. Izuku was surprised. He had expected sensation in just his hand, but this was a thrum under his very skin— a pleasant buzzing, like Kaminari had said. It felt like the jittery sensation of a caffeine high, like the endorphin rush after a good long run, like the come down of an—and Izuku blushed as his brain finished that thought— like the come down of an orgasm. 

When Kaminari let go, Izuku realised his face felt flushed and his breathing was uneven. 

Kaminari grinned, excited and child-like. “Good right?”

“Yeah,” Izuku breathed. He was pretty sure he was bright red. “It felt like… a lot.” 

Kaminari gave him a knowing look. “I warned you.”

“Yeah, you did," Izuku said, still a little breathless. “Is it always that intense for you?” Izuku couldn’t help but think that that must be… distracting.

“No, no, I definitely cranked it up a bit to show you.” And then Kaminari stared at him and tilted his heading consideringly. “You seem, uh, particularly sensitive to it, though.”

Izuku blinked at him. “Do I?” He asked in genuine curiosity.

“More than anyone else who I’ve done that to,” Kaminari shrugged. And then he shot him a devilish smile. “It’s cute.”

Izuku didn’t think it was possible to blush even harder, but somehow his body managed. 

And then, a little out of the blue, Kaminari asked, “Why do you think no one’s ever felt like that about you?”

Izuku let out an awkward giggle as he realised that Kaminari was referring to what he had said earlier. He had a tendency to jump around conversation topics, and Izuku had gotten pretty good at rolling with the punches. “I don’t know. Not the prettiest, I guess. Plus I’m kinda annoying and awkward. I ramble, get anxious.” He waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Sounds pretty unattractive, you know. I’m kind of a bundle of issues.” Oh god, he was rambling right now. But he also didn’t quite know how to stop. “I’ve sort of always known I would be hard to love, growing up quirkless and all. Not that I think quirkless people are unlovable or anything! Just, uh, me, specifically…” Izuku trailed off. Fucking hell. He wanted the earth to swallow him whole. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut. Kaminari hadn’t asked for a goddamn trauma dump.

Kaminari’s eyes widened in surprise. Then horror. “Oh my god,” he said, almost to himself. “You’re serious,” Kaminari repeated, staring at Izuku a little helplessly. 

And something about the look in Kaminari’s eyes was sending alarm bells through his head. Like the other shoe was about to drop. Like Kaminari was going to nod and say that Izuku was impossible to love and that he would spend Valentine's Day alone forever. And even though Izuku had said it himself, he wasn’t sure he could handle Kaminari of all people— shameless flirt Kaminari, excited and excitable Kaminari— agreeing with him. 

“Oh, would you look at that! My phone is charged!” Izuku said, grabbing his phone out of Kaminari’s hand and unplugging it. This time, he was ready for the static shock and only sucked in a quick breath at the sensation before he was jamming his phone into his pocket. “Bye, Kaminari,” he squeaked and all but ran to his dorm room. 

“Wait!” Kaminari called behind him, but Izuku was already halfway up the stairs.

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Kaminari watched Midoriya leave in a state of mild shock. How could one of their smartest, strongest, hottest, kindest, most perceptive classmates be such an idiot.  

As soon as he was out of sight, Kaminari created a group chat with everyone in 2-A minus Midoriya, titled it “Operation V-Day,” and immediately started shooting out messages.

PhoneCharger: midoriya doesn’t know that half the class has a crush on him

PhoneCharger: he just said he’s never spent valentines day with someone bc no one has ever felt that way about him before

PhoneCharger: he said he’s unlovable

PhoneCharger: also, cmon guys

[PhoneCharger has changed their name to LightingMcQueen]

TrippinOnAcid: HE WHAT??

ImHard: UNLOVABLE???

LightningMcQueen: izuku midoriya!!! said he was unlovable!!

[TrippinOnAcid has changed LightningMcQueen’s name to pikachu]

pikachu: … okay i’ll let that one slide

pikachu: we need to do something about this asap. my heart literally broke 

uwuraka: he said that? :’(

pikachu: yeah :’’((

Ribbit: :( how did that even come up?

pikachu: i was charging his phone and we were just kinda sitting there waiting. so i asked him if he had any valentines day plans

pikachu: and he said he’d never celebrated it + no one had liked him that way + he did that awkward giggle thing he does before he says something devastatingly heartbreaking and said he was awkward and annoying and anxious and unlovable and a bundle of issues AND ALSO “not the prettiest” 

ImHard: :(( !!

amp_me_up: You were charging his phone?

[amp_me_up has changed pikachu’s name to PhoneCharger]

PhoneCharger: c’mon man

[amp_me_up has changed PhoneCharger’s name to MidoriyasPhoneCharger]

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: …

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: fine

FactorySettings: That actually makes me very sad.

FactorySettings: How does he not know how much he means to us?

IidaTenya: We have to change this

[MidoriyasPhoneCharger has changed IidaTenya’s name to gottagofast]

gottagofast: I don’t think I get that reference

uwuraka: @boomboombitch was deku always like that?

boomboombitch: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS GROUP CHAT

boomboombitch: DON’T @ ME EVER AGAIN

uwuraka: bakugou, this is important! @boomboombitch

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: bakugou! @boomboombitch

TrippinOnAcid: Bakugou!! @boomboombitch

ImHard: Bakubro!!! @boomboombitch

amp_me_up: @boomboombitch

KonbiniSpiderman: cmon man @boomboombitch

boomboombitch: ugh

boomboombitch: nerd never had friends in middle school

boomboombitch: also got bullied a lot

boomboombitch: probably thinks he’s not worthy or some stupid shit

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: …

uwuraka: …

TrippinOnAcid: …

KonbiniSpiderman: …

amp_me_up: …

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: dude you suck

boomboombitch: WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN

ImHard: hey! he’s trying to be better!

boomboombitch: I’m not proud of it okay? Jeez. Go die.

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: !!! rare bakugou apology spotted!!!

boomboombitch: DIE

TrippinOnAcid: life’s all about growth, we reward progress in this household

ImHard: Mina that’s so manly

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: okay

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: so

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: heartbreaking admissions aside,

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: new class 2-A mission: show izuku midoriya how much he’s loved.

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: who’s in?

uwuraka: me!

TrippinOnAcid: me!!!

Ribbit: me

PrinceCharming: me

PrinceCharming: wait 

PrinceCharming: what

[PrinceCharming has changed their name to fuckendevor]

fuckendevor: wait!

[fuckendevor has changed their name to midoriyasheatpack]

gottagofast: I am also in

sleepdeprivation: sure

[boomboombitch has changed their name to Kacchan]

ImHard: that means bakubro’s in

[ImHard has changed their name to ImHardForMidoriya]

ImHardForMidoriya: so am I

amp_me_up: hell ya

Invisibitch: Yess!!!

KonbiniSpiderman: me

FactorySettings: Me too.

MidoriyasPhoneCharger: okay, let’s do this

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku took a long shower to get his thoughts in order. Now that Kaminari had reminded him it was Valentine’s Day, his mood had soured considerably. Sure, he was prone to self-pity. But these days, it seemed to be relegated to the grade on his latest test or how badly he fucked up his body in their last training session or even the fact that someone had eaten his last pack of marshmallows.

The fact that he was unlovable? Yeah, that one he hadn’t thought about for a while. That one definitely hurt more than the others to dwell on.

A part of him wondered if anyone would ever flirt with him like Kaminari, but mean it. What would it feel like if someone did like him like that as Kaminari had said. 

Whatever. Izuku sighed and resigned himself to self-pity for the day. No one had to know. 

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

When Izuku made his way downstairs, the common room was much more populated. Jirou, Mina, and Tokoyami had occupied one of the couches, papers and notebooks spread out as they did homework. Izuku gathered Kirishima, Sero and Kacchan were playing some kind of multiplayer puzzle game with the way they were all throwing frustrated orders at each other. Kaminari had his head in Kirshima’s lap, book in hand, ignoring the commotion happening literally right above him. (Katsuki took in a freshly showered Izuku— hair damp, cheeks still rosy red from the heat— and his videogame character promptly ran off a platform. Sero groaned because they had been so close to finishing the level while Kirishima shot him a smirk and it took everything in Katsuki to not throw his controller at his face. His anger management therapist better be proud.)

Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki were also studying, but on the dining table. Izuku decided to join them, thinking that he didn’t want to get in the way of an angry Kacchan if the game went south. (Izuku didn’t know Katsuki was now in therapy. Katsuki wouldn’t tell him for another two months.)

“Hey guys,” Izuku said, plopping down next to Iida and across Todoroki and Uraraka. 

He was met with a chorus of hellos as he put his notebook and worksheets on the table.

“Midoriya, I have a request,” Todoroki said, his voice solemn, his face oddly serious.

“Sure,” Izuku said, unhesitating. 

“You would consider me your friend, yes?” 

“I—” Izuku faltered. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Of course,” he said, trying to put as much earnest emphasis as he could into those words.

“And I consider you a friend too. In fact, one of my closest friends.” 

“I’m, uh, glad,” Izuku stuttered. “I feel the same way.”

“Then I believe our relationship is close enough that we can start referring to each other by our given names.” 

Izuku blinked at him. Ururaka was following the interaction with open glee. Even Iida’s eyes crinkling in the corners. (So it begins, they were both thinking.)

“What?”

“I believe we are now comfortable enough with each other to start using our given names,” Todoroki repeated.

“Oh!” And when the words truly registered, “Yes, I would love that!”

“I’m glad you think so too, Izuku,” Todoroki said. 

“Ri—Right.” 

Everyone on the table was now looking at him expectantly.

“Shoto,” Izuku said, unable to help the huge smile that spread across his face.

And everyone went back to their work. 

Something warm and lovely settled in Izuku’s stomach. 

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku could feel an odd tension in the air. Years of being followed by snickers and taunts, of being pushed into walls and shoved down stairs had resulted in a certain hypervigilance that he had never fully been able to shake off. (Unfortunately, as exhausting as it was, this was very good for Izuku’s hero work.) Which meant that Izuku could sense the fact that something in the air had changed. But this was… different. Pleasant. Almost like the giddy excitement on the last day of school before the start of summer break. 

Whatever. No one in this room would hurt him on purpose. He had an essay to write. 

Izuku had just put away his paper for English and opened his maths textbook when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He took an earbud out of his ear.

“Are you working on the maths homework for Monday?” Mina asked, as if she had just been waiting for Izuku to switch subjects. (She had been.) For some reason entirely incomprehensible to Izuku, he seemed to have been delegated the best tutor in the class despite not being nearly as good in studies as Iida, Yaoyorozu, or even Kacchan. 

“I am, yeah,” Izuku said. 

“Perfect,” Mina said, immediately sliding into the seat next to him and plopping her notebook on the table. “Will you help me with this one, please?” She asked, pointing to a problem “You’ve always been the only one who makes sense to me when it comes to maths.”

“Oh!” Izuku said, a little surprised. “Sure. Uh, which one?”

Mina pointed at a problem and Izuku walked her through it. And then he walked her through another. And another till they had both completed the worksheet together. Izuku blinked down at his finished homework. Something about Mina’s chatter and jokes and giggles in between the problems and the genuine gratitude in her eyes had made doing the work a lot more pleasurable. 

“You’re such a good teacher,” Mina said, cheek resting on hand as she stared at Izuku with a look that he couldn’t quite comprehend. “No wonder you’re the best of our class.” She said it like it was a fact. A foregone conclusion. 

“Best?” Izuku said, incredulously. “No, that would definitely be Iida or Yaoyoruzu, or even Kacchan, I mean—”

“I’m not just talking grades,” Mina interrupted. “You’re so patient. And intelligent. And strong. And work so hard,” Mina continued a little dreamily. And then she took his face in both hands, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Mwah! Thank you Izuku, you’re the best.” 

“Oh!” Izuku’s hand came up to his cheek of its own volition. “You’re… welcome,” he tried to say, but Mina was already walking away back into the common room. He stared after her with wide eyes, cheeks flaming.

When Izuku turned back, confusion evident on his face, Uraraka flashed him a wink and Shoto just shrugged. Iida didn’t seem to have even noticed anything.

He plugged his earbud back in. It took a full five minutes of staring blankly at the page in front of him before the words started making sense again. 

(Mina idly wondered if the kiss had been too much— people often said she had a talent for breaching personal space bubbles— but then Kirishima nudged her and waggled his eyebrows, looking at something over her shoulder. Mina followed his sight line to see that Izuku still had a small, pleased smile on his face.)

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Apparently, today was an unlucky day for electronics because halfway through revising for their upcoming Quirk History exam, Izuku’s earphones stopped working. Not the usual one-ear-goes-first, nope. Both at once. Completely dead. And, of course, instead of pausing, his phone started blaring his music out loud. 

“Sorry!” Izuku squeaked, hurriedly turning down the volume as everyone’s head turned to look at him.

“Didn’t peg you for liking that emo shit,” Kacchan smirked at him— as per usual, ready with a taunt at Izuku’s slightest mistake. “Gonna blow out your ear drums, listening to music that loud, nerd.” (Kirishima smirked at him again at the immediate reaction to Izuku’s mishap. Katsuki, once again, succeeded at not punching him in the face.)

“You’re talking to me about hearing loss, Kacchan?” Izuku shot back. 

Kacchan gaped at him. Jirou snickered. Kaminari looked back and forth between them like watching a tennis match.

“Listen here, you little shit—” Kacchan started, getting up off the sofa.

Jirou pushed him back down, getting up herself to make her way over to Izuku. “I like that band,” she interrupted easily. 

“Oi! I’m—” Kacchan started again.

“Me too,” Kaminari said, following Jirou over to him. 

And all of a sudden, he was bracketed by Jirou on one side and Kaminari on the other, both glaring at Kacchan as if daring him to try something. 

Kacchan just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” Izuku grumbled after Kacchan had turned back to the T.V. screen. “Kacchan wouldn’t actually… do anything.”

“Anymore,” Jirou said under her breath.

“We know,” Kaminari said at the same time. “But I just can’t help but be drawn to you,” Kaminari added, dramatically. “Or to electric failure.” 

“This counts as electric failure?” Izuku asked, holding up his earphones and choosing to ignore the first part of Kaminari’s statement lest his heart explode. 

“Sure, why not,” Kaminari said. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to come over and talk to you.” 

“I do actually like that band,” Jirou said, giving Kaminari a flat look.

“I, uh, know,” Izuku said, sheepishly. “I saw your phone screen the other day and saw the band name and album cover, and you have really really good music taste, so I also gave them a listen.” Izuku winced at his own words. “Sorry that sounds kind of creepy.”

“No, it’s cool,” Jirou said. “I could make you a playlist if you want.”

Izuku and Kaminari both looked at her in shock. And then at each other.

“HUH?!” Kacchan barked from the sofa. “You’ll make Izuku a playlist before you’ll make me—mmph !”

Kirishima jammed a hand over Kacchan’s mouth.“Let Jirou work her magic, bro,” Izuku heard him whisper, followed by a cry of pain as— Izuku assumed— Kacchan bit  him.

Honestly, the reaction was warranted. Getting a playlist made for you by Jirou was a huge deal in their class. Her playlists may as well be a psychoanalysis with how accurately they reflected the person’s music taste. It was as big a sign of respect as she could show you. Kacchan had been egging her on for a whole year since their music tastes overlapped quite a bit, but Jirou had just shoved him off every time with an eye roll. 

Izuku couldn’t help the childish excitement in his voice when he asked, “Would you, really?”

Jirou seemed a little caught off guard by the eagerness of his reaction. “Yeah, sure,” she said. And then her face softened a little. “I think you’re pretty cool, Midoriya.”

“Oh,” Izuku said. And, to his absolute horror, found himself welling up.

Jirou’s eyes widened. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Izuku said through sniffles. 

“There, there,” Kaminari said comfortingly, patting his hand. “Jirou,” he said, unwinding Izuku’s earphones—Izuku hadn’t even noticed him fiddling with them—and plugging them back into his phone.

“On it.” Jirou said, and Kaminari handed her Izuku’s phone.

Jirou typed something in while Kaminari gently put one earphone in Izuku’s ear and the other in his own, their heads naturally pulling together by virtue of the wire’s length. (Izuku assumed Kaminari’s quirk had somehow allowed him to bypass Izuku’s passcode. He didn’t know that Kaminari had fully opened his mouth to ask him his pin before taking an educated guess and punching in Katsuki’s birthday.)

“Listen,” Jirou whispered as one of her earphone jacks came to wrap around the base of Izuku’s phone so she could hear as well. 

And music flowed into Izuku’s right ear. Within the first few chords, Izuku knew he would love the song. And something about listening to a song Jirou had hand-picked for him through earphones that Kaminari had just fixed for him with the two of them was making Izuku feel very raw and very vulnerable. The song was slow, melodic, and syrupy and it definitely wasn’t helping with the odd intimacy of the moment.

For the next three minutes and 21 seconds, it was just the three of them in their own little bubble. 

And then the song ended and Izuku opened his eyes to Kaminari and Jirou both watching him with expressions of such overwhelming fondness, that he had to look away. 

Kaminari took his finger off the earbud in Izuku’s ear and both Izuku and Jirou jolted at a sudden spark in the air. Izuku hadn’t even realised that Kaminari had been holding the earbud to his ear the whole time. 

Jirou glared at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kaminari said, entirely unapologetic. “It was just a temporary fix. Had to keep touching them to keep them functional.”

Izuku shrugged. “Guess that just means I have to come to the both of you every time I want to listen to music,” he said cheekily.

And Jirou let out a laugh— one of her rare, genuine ones— that was as lovely as the song they’d listened to. Izuku turned to Kaminari to see if he felt equally as starstruck at the sound, but he found Kaminari looking at him instead. Kaminari’s lips split into an easy smile at the eye contact. 

“You want another taste of earlier today, babe?” Kaminari said, his hand coming to rest on top of Izuku’s.

Izuku blushed at the endearment. And then blushed even brighter at Kaminari’s proposal. “Oh, you mean the, uh, the…” Izuku floundered. 

“Is that a yes?” Kaminari squeezed his hand a little harder. 

“Yes!” Izuku said. “Uh, I mean, sure.” Izuku added, trying to go for cavalier. Jirou snorted next to him, proving that he’d failed.

Kaminari looked delighted. “Here,” he said. One hand interlocked with his fingers, the other came up to his face. Kaminari moved slowly, giving Izuku plenty of time to pull away. Izuku didn’t.

When his hand made contact with his cheek, Izuku’s eyes fluttered shut. It felt nice to be touched so gently. It felt nice to be touched at all. He all but melted into Kaminari’s palm.

And then he was buzzing. 

It was like last time, but better. This time, Izuku knew what was coming and he could fully lean into the sensation, letting his brain just turn off for a second, revelling in the odd jitter in his brain, in the endorphin rush of it all. He could feel the blood rising to his cheeks, could feel his lips part in a gasp.

A few seconds later, it faded and Izuku let out a sigh of utter relief. 

When he opened his eyes, both Kaminari and Jirou were looking at him with what looked like awe, their eyes wide and utterly transfixed on him. 

Izuku looked up at them through his lashes. He wondered if he looked as blissed out as he felt. 

“You’re magic, Kaminari,” Izuku whispered, adoringly. 

Izuku blinked. Was that a slight blush on Kaminari’s face? (It was.) “Uh, yeah,” he said. “Anytime.”

“Any time?” Izuku giggled, head a little too empty to not blurt out his thoughts.

“Anytime,” Kaminari said, immediately and far too earnestly. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” He still felt a little hazy and flushed.

“Anything you want,” Kaminari said far too breathlessly. (Jirou elbowed him in his side and he realised he was coming on waaaay too strong.)

And as if a spell had been broken, both Kaminari and Jirou started talking at once, now, for some reason, struggling to meet Izuku’s eyes.

“Well if you ever need your phone charged, or just a little electric relaxation, ha ha, you know, just let me know, and I’ll, that’s to say…"

“Anyway, I’ll get back to you with that playlist, Midoriya…” 

And then they were walking away, leaving Izuku a little off-kilter with the whole experience. He caught whispered snippets of “So pretty” “I told you so” “blushing” and “ relaxed” and “and I’ve never been more bi ” which made his brow furrow.

Whatever. Izuku felt too hazy and pleased to let anything bother him right now. He turned back to his work and was delighted to find he could focus much better.

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku didn’t usually spar on weekends, choosing instead to focus on cardio, but Yaoyorozu had shyly asked him if he would help her with close combat because she was scared she relied too much on her quirk, so here he was, thirty minutes later, pinned down as they both panted in exertion.

Out of curiosity, Izuku had asked her why she hadn’t gone to Uraraka or Kirishima— both clearly the best close-range combatants in the class— and she had just smiled and inclined her head to the already occupied dojo.

Already occupied by Uraraka and Kirishima sparring together. 

Ah. That would explain it.

So Izuku and Yaoyorozu took residence on the other side and started practicing. Izuku beat her four times out of five, but she never backed down. She took feedback with grim determination, and with every defeat, seemed to focus harder, get faster, till she had him in their current position: a hand pinned his throat to the ground and a knee dug into his thigh, fully immobilizing him. In an instant, Yaoyorozu could press down on his windpipe for an easy knock-out or kill. 

“Yield,” Izuku gasped out. That had been a clean win. Swift, efficient. Izuku had been on the back foot the whole time. 

Izuku heard Kacchan snort, and rolled his eyes even as he was slightly pleased. Sure, Kacchan was being condescending, but it was also a sign that he had kept his attention the whole duration of the fight. 

What Izuku definitely wasn’t expecting was the death glare that Yaoyorozu shot Kacchan at the sound. Izuku watched in awe as Kacchan looked away with a huff and went back to his bicep curls. 

Yaorozo let him up, and they just sat and caught their breath for a second, both wincing slightly at the sight of Uraraka breaking through every one of Kirishima’s defences on the other side of the dojo. 

“You’re very kind,” Yaoyorozu said after a few seconds.

“Oh! Thank you,” Izuku said, a little taken aback. That was the first time someone had called him kind after they’d beat each other up for thirty minutes straight.

“I admire your strength,” Yaoyorozu continued. “You see the good in everyone. It’s a very important characteristic to have in a hero.”

“I really don’t think I’m that special,” Izuku said with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“Of course, you are. Even if you didn’t have One for All, even if you weren’t All Might’s successor,” Yaoyorozu continued. “You’d still be special.”

Izuku looked down. “You don’t have to say all that,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “I was more than happy to help you spar.”

“I’m being genuine,” Yaoyorozu said, almost sounding a little offended.

Izuku’s head shot up. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply— that is— well,” Izuku floundered. “Thank you,” he ended in a small voice.

Luckily, Yaoyorozu seemed satisfied with that answer, and they settled closer side by side, watching as Kirishima finally got the upper-hand.

Yaoyorozu fidgeted next to him, as if trying to find either the right words or the courage to say something. Izuku was very familiar with this brand of anxiety, so he kept quiet. He really hoped it wasn’t something along the lines of haha, got you, everything I said was a lie.

“I also wanted to thank you for always being…” Yaoyorozu hesitated “... respectful. Even while fighting.”

Izuku froze. That wasn’t quite what he had expected. He had an idea of what that might mean and it made him feel a bit sick. 

“Who wasn’t?”

Yaoyorozu looked at him. “What?”

“Who wasn’t respectful,” Izuku heard the steel even in his own voice. 

Yaoyorozu smiled at him a little pityingly. “Too many people.” And then her voice turned sharper. “Don’t worry, I made sure they all took some well deserved trips to Recovery Girl.” 

“Good,” he said, definitively. “I’m glad.” 

Izuku hesitated. He didn’t want Yaoyorozu to think that he thought she was weak… but then he remembered the time that Mina had texted him the codeword and he had never been more grateful for having her location.

“I have this app,” Izuku blurted, before he could second guess himself. “If you text me a specific word, it shares your location with me. I have it linked with a few of the girls in our class and some of the class B girls too, if you want to add me. It’s nothing creepy, I promise! I won’t have your location unless you text me the codeword. It’s just for… emergencies, I guess. In case you feel alone or unsafe but don’t want to call the authorities.” And then Izuku shrugged. “Or if you just need me, specifically. For whatever reason.”

Yaoyorozu just stared at him in awe for a few seconds. (“And you call yourself unlovable,” she murmured under her breath.)

Izuku’s brow furrowed, unable to hear what she said. “What?”

Yaoyarozu’s eyes widened and she started frantically looking around the gym, before her eyes landed on something. “How about Kacchan?” Yaoyorozu said, in a rush.

Izuku felt even more confused. “What?” 

“For the codeword,” she clarified, already pulling out her phone. “I can’t see myself ever calling Bakugou ‘Kacchan’— it feels like something I would only text you if I was in great distress.”

“That’s… true,” Izuku said, pulling out his phone as well and toggling to the app. “Sure, Kacchan works.” 

There was another silence. Uraraka and Kirishima were also sitting now, panting and going over their fight. (And eavesdropping on Izuku and Yaomomo’s conversation.)

“You’re also very strong. And not just physically. You’re the rock that keeps the whole class together, we all feel like we can depend on you,” Izuku said. “I never thought I’d be here in UA halls, let alone surrounded by such incredible people.” Izuku smiled at Yaoyorozu and his voice came out a little choked when he said, “Thank you for letting me fight alongside you.” 

(“So manly,” Kirishima whispered to Uraraka, wiping away a fake tear. Uraraka punched him in the side.)

Oddly, Yaoyorozu had a pained expression on her face. And then it felt like some dam broke and all of a sudden she was cupping both his cheeks and looking him dead in the eye. “Midoriya Izuku, you have a way of commanding love unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” she said suddenly, like it was very important he understood this right away. “You are special to me. You are special to all of us. It’s not just one sided. We admire you too. You know that right? ”

All of a sudden, Izuku felt even more off-balance than he had during their last fight. “I—”

“Right?” Yaoyorozu repeated a little more desperately.

Izuku felt his whole face flare up red. He felt a little bit like he was going to cry for some reason. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“She’s trying to thank you for sparring with her,” said a voice behind him.

“Kacchan?”

“She’s trying to thank you for sparring with her,” Kacchan repeated, glaring daggers at Yaoyorozu. Izuku wondered if Kacchan had heard them repeating his name and wandered over. (Izuku wouldn’t realise for a few more years that Katsuki had a very hard time taking his eyes off of Izuku at all, ever.)

Yaoyorozu looked back and forth between the two of them. “I— yes. That’s what I was trying to do. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, okay,” Izuku said, breaths coming a little easier. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m going to fill up my water. Come with me, Ponytail,” Kacchan gritted through his teeth.

“But—”

“Follow me or else.”

Yaoyorozu followed. Izuku stared after them, blinking in confusion. After a few seconds, he heard:

“What the actual fuck made you think the direct approach was the way to go with the nerd??”

“I didn’t think—”

“No the fuck you didn’t. Nearly gave him a panic attack!”

They were getting further away.

“But… couldn’t help it… earnest words… smile… eyes .” 

“I know ,” Kacchan said in an equally frustrated voice.

And then the conversation became too quiet for Izuku to hear.

Izuku thought about Kaminari’s touches, Yaoyorozu’s compliments, the oddly charged energy in the air. Class 2-A wasn’t nearly as subtle as they thought they were, and Izuku had spent his whole life being told he was creepily perceptive, anyway. He just wasn’t quite sure what they were trying to do. Izuku sighed, dusted off his shorts and headed for the showers.

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku was used to locker room shenanigans, but this was new. 

“Midoriya, bro, has anyone ever told you that you have godly thighs?” Kirishima said.

“I— What?” Izuku sputtered.

“Legendary. Absolutely stunning. I wouldn’t mind getting crushed by them,” Kirishima continued.

At that moment, Kacchan decided to walk out of the shower, a towel loosely slung around his hips. Izuku looked at him in a silent plea for help.

Kacchan just shrugged and said “Shitty Hair isn’t wrong,” which was the equivalent of him shouting Izuku’s praises from the rooftops. 

“And then I see him bench pressing, like, five times his body weight, and I’m like woah. Manly,” Kirishima said. “You’re hot as fuck, bro.”

Kacchan gave Izuku a considering look. His eyes felt like a brand on Izuku’s skin as he trailed them slowly up Izuku’s body. “Nerd’s also got arms,” he said. Which. What did that mean?

“He sure does,” Kirishima sighed, dreamily. “I genuinely don’t know how you manage to be cute, hot, and sexy at the same time. Oh, and let’s not forget his.” Kirishima said this like it was a completely natural way to end a sentence. Kacchan and Kirishima looked at each other with grim looks and both gave a curt nod, which Izuku roughly translated as Indeed or Agreed. When he followed Kirishima’s gaze into the mirror, it was firmly planted on his ass. Ah. 

This was all getting too much. Sure, Izuku’s body had to be physically ready for One-for-All and he had to be strong for hero work. But he had never really considered that that could ever be applied aesthetically. A part of him still thought of himself as the scrawny nerd who couldn’t stand up for himself. And to have two basically naked, extremely attractive men— two men whose bodies he had admired more than once— compliment parts of his physique that he hadn’t even really thought about was making him feel incredibly flustered and also oddly emotional. Izuku didn’t much like looking at mirrors.

“Sorry,” Kirishima said a little sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! I…” Izuku trailed off. I don’t mind. I never considered that someone would want to look at me in that way. No one’s ever said something like that to me. Tell me I’m pretty again. Please call me cute and hot and sexy. “It’s okay,” Izuku said instead. 

And that’s when Kacchan decided to lean right into Izuku’s face and pinch one cheek. Hard. 

“Ow! Kacchan what the—”

“First best physical feature is green eyes,” Kacchan said, far too pleased with himself.

And Izuku thought he was going to pass the fuck out because he knew the exact event Kacchan was referencing. 

(Eleven years old. A summer between terms. Forced on a beach trip together along with their parents. Izuku had been delighted because Kacchan was always a lot nicer when other people weren’t around.

“Fucking hell, Deku, you have freckles everywhere.” Kacchan said, watching Izuku smear sunscreen over his shoulders.

“They get worse in the summer,” Izuku pouted. “Because of the sun.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Kacchan seemed to take umbrage with the word “worse.” He pinched Izuku’s cheek. “Shut up. Freckles are the second best physical feature someone can have,” Kacchan said definitively. Like he was laying down a law or something.

Izuku shoved his hand away. “Ow!” He rubbed at his cheek and glared at Kacchan. Izuku had no idea if that was a compliment or not— is it good to have the second best physical feature on your body? It also didn’t help that Kacchan had pinched his cheek like he wanted to rub those freckles off his skin. And then he paused. “What’s the first best?” 

Kacchan stared at him far too intensely. And then shoved him into the water.

“Hey!” Izuku cried, furiously wiping salt water out of his eyes. Ugh, Kacchan was so annoying. Izuku never knew what he’d done wrong. 

“That’s a secret,” Kacchan said. And promptly walked away, leaving Izuku sputtering and confused.)

Izuku snapped back into himself when he heard Kacchan slam his locker door shut. Both he and Kirishima had put on clothes while Izuku had been lost in his own mind.

“Later, Freckles,” Kacchan said, dealing him more psychic damage in two words than Izuku thought was humanly possible.  

“See you, Midoriya, the sexiest of bros,” Kirishima called out. 

“Hey!” Kacchan said, affronted. He scuffed Kirishima’s head and Kirishima just laughed.

And then Izuku was alone in the locker room with half a leg in his pants, a sore right cheek, and the oddest sense that he was going to start bawling if one more person complimented him today. 

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku slumped back at the dining table with a wince. Uraraka and Shoto were entirely fixated on Uraraka’s laptop, having given up on doing homework, and Iida was nowhere to be found. (He had finished his work in a timely fashion and gone upstairs to read the shoujo manga he hid under his bed. Uraraka had lent him the first volume, Katsuki the second. The latest, he'd bought entirely of his own volition.) Luckily, being wholly unattended meant Izuku could be miserable for the next few minutes without anyone bothering him. He groaned and rolled his shoulders back. His arms hurt. They always hurt after a particularly intense sparring session or workout, but this was worse than usual. He sighed, dug a pen out of his pencil case and then tried not to scream in frustration when it clattered to the floor because his hand was shaking too hard. 

Whatever. He’ll just switch hands. He was basically ambidextrous these days anyway. Aizawa would have to deal with slightly shittier handwriting. (Aizawa had dealt with worse. Recovery Girl’s chicken scratch, for one.) He bent down to pick up the pen and tried not to grit his teeth to dust.

“Izuku,” Shoto said above him.

Izuku’s head jerked, still not used to hearing his first name in Shoto’s voice. But instead of hitting hard wood, his head made contact with something soft. Oh. Shoto had covered the edge of the table with his hand. Izuku tried to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach at the gesture.

“Yes?” Izuku asked, silently triumphant at being able to grip the pen with his non-dominant hand. 

“Do you like being touched?” Shoto asked, placidly.

“I— what?” 

“Do you like being touched?” Shoto repeated.

Izuku turned towards Uraraka who looked very content to just sit back and watch this interaction play out. Izuku resigned himself to the fact that no context was forthcoming from her. 

“Why do you ask?” Izuku asked.

Shoto shrugged. “You were tense, and then Kaminari touched you earlier and you were less tense. I wanted to ask you earlier but then you had your sparring session with Momo.”

(Momo, both Ochako and Izuku thought. Interesting .)

Izuku let out a slow breath. He’d gotten better at not being flustered by Shoto’s bluntness, but sometimes it still caught him off guard. He knew Shoto didn’t mean anything by it.

“Touch is hard for me,” he said simply. “Sometimes with all the training and fighting and injuries, I forget my body isn't all pain. That it can make me feel good too.”

“Oh,” Shoto said, as if he too was having that realisation at Izuku’s words.

“I know,” Izuku said, grinning. “Wild concept.”

“Would you like me to make your body feel good, as well?” Shoto asked, entirely matter-of-fact. Uraraka made a sound like she was choking on her own spit. 

Izuku shot her a glare even as his own cheeks flared. He turned back to Shoto. “That’s—” Izuku sighed. As kindly as he could, he said, “I don’t know if you realise, but those words have, uh, a slightly sexual connotation, Todo— Shoto.”

“You’re not giving him enough credit,” Uraraka muttered under her breath.

Izuku glared at Uraraka again, and just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, Shoto interrupted him.

“Do they? I simply wanted to touch you and make you feel good,” Shoto said, once again, entirely deadpan.

Izuku gave up. He wasn’t sure he could help his friend win the battle of Shoto Todoroki vs. sexual innuendo. “What did you have in mind?”

“I could give you a massage.”

Now here’s the thing. Izuku could have very easily given Shoto a polite smile and said no, but his arms ached and a massage sounded like heaven right now. And Izuku wasn’t dumb enough to believe this was coincidence— he gathered Shoto must have noticed the shake in his hands or the clench in his jaw or his wince when he sat down or any of the other little signs of weakness that Izuku felt more and more comfortable showing to his classmates these days. (It also wasn't coincidence because Shoto had been trying to make it happen the whole day.) And distantly, Izuku’s body was still buzzing with the memory of Kaminari’s electricity and he could still feel his lingering touch on his cheek. So Izuku shot Shoto a smile, and just said, “Sure.”

And then Izuku watched in surprise as Shoto shot Uraraka a triumphant smirk and she responded with a look of grudging respect.

Oh. 

Izuku wondered if he was more mad at Shoto for using his social ineptitude against him, or more mad at himself for being so easily lured in by Shoto's pretenses. 

Something was happening here. Something that was either going to make Izuku very sad or very happy. Something that was going to break Izuku’s heart either way. And god dammit, Izuku wished that he could just close his eyes and blindly trust-fall into whatever this day was turning out to be. But, he’d never been very good at believing the whole ignorance is bliss bullshit. 

But then Shoto gave him a smile— teeth and all— and Izuku decided to trust for a little longer.

Five minutes later, Izuku was a puddle of goo. Shoto’s fingers travelled down the side of his neck, over the top of his shoulders, all down his arms, over his trapezius, down his back. At one point he activated his quirk, warming his hands ever so slightly and Izuku couldn’t help the moan that slipped out his lips. Shoto’s fingers stilled at the noise. (Shoto had also been mesmerised by the feel of Izuku against his hands, his taut muscles relaxing, his soft, freckled skin. The sound knocked him out of his reverie hard . He hadn't even realised he was getting so worked up that his quirk activated.)

“It feels good,” Izuku said in a rush, desperately not wanting Shoto to stop. “The warmth.”

Izuku sighed in relief as Shoto’s hands started moving again. 

“It’s my quirk too,” Shoto said a minute later, almost as if he was talking to himself. “You taught me that. It’s nice to know it can be more than just destructive.”

Izuku leaned even further into Shoto’s warm palms.

A few more minutes passed. Maybe an hour. Maybe a year. Izuku had lost complete track of time.

“That felt really good,” Izuku said eventually, scared that Shoto would never stop if he didn’t say something. Shoto gently lifted his hands off Izuku’s shoulders. Izuku couldn’t help the easy smile that split his face. He felt boneless and pliant and pleased. He was really enjoying this new development of his classmates finding excuses to touch him.

“I also find touch hard,” Shoto said, almost a little confused. His voice was so soft that Izuku genuinely wondered if he was meant to hear that. 

“I know,” Izuku decided to reply anyway. He tilted his head up so he could meet Shoto’s eyes upside down. “But we can learn together. You can touch me anytime you want,” he said with a dopey smile.

Izuku was deeply grateful that Shoto wasn’t touching him anymore because all of a sudden, his left hand burst into flame. 

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku chewed the back of his pen. Was this what people did on Valentine's Day? Just acted more… flirty the whole time? He’d never really had friends before UA, and certainly no one who would be interested in spending Valentine's Day with him— even platonically, let alone romantically— so maybe this was… normal. Their first year had been such a trainwreck of violence and trauma— maybe that’s why Valentine's Day had just passed them by. Yeah, this was probably how people with friends spent Valentine's together.

Unfortunately, Izuku had never been particularly good at lying to himself.

So he hardened his heart, grit his teeth and made his way to the kitchen where he’d last seen a flash of purple hair.

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

Izuku was about to cross the threshold when he tripped over something. He caught something white in his periphery, even as he used black whip to steady himself.

Shinsou tsked, leaning against a kitchen counter. “I was hoping to catch you in my arms,” he said under his breath, adjusting his capture weapon.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?? Izuku thought.  

“Hmm?” he said instead. 

“Nothing,” Shinsou said, pushing past him to the exit 

“Wait!” Izuku said, grabbing onto Shinsou’s arm.

Shinsou raised an eyebrow at him, and Izuku hastily let go of his arm. 

“I have a question,” Izuku said, not quite sure how to phrase it.

“I’m listening,” Shinsou replied.

“So, you have a mental quirk,” Izuku started.

“Sure do,” Shinsou replied.

“Can you, uh,” Izuku rubbed the back of his head. “Can you tell if someone is under the effects of a mental quirk?”

Shinsou looked confused. “Yes.”

Izuku let out a sigh of relief. “Can you check if I’m under the effects of something?”

For a second, Shinsou looked incredibly sad. But then his face melted back into its usual indifference and Izuku wondered if he’d imagined it. “Of course,” Shinsou said. “What’s your favourite colour?”

Izuku knew why he was asking, and fuck it. If everyone else was going to be acting weird, then Izuku was allowed to have fun too. 

“Right now?” He let his lips lift in an easy smile. “Purple.”

He saw Shinsou’s eyes widen and then Izuku’s mind went blank. It felt like he was deep underwater, his thoughts coming from far away, his body feeling floaty. It was oddly calming. He felt… safe . Like he was held in warm, comforting arms. 

And just as soon as the feeling had come, it disappeared. Izuku blinked as the world snapped back into colour. He almost missed the warmth.

“No quirk, Izuku,” Shinsou said, his voice a little strained.

“Oh,” Izuku said. And then his eyes widened. Izuku. That was the first time Shinsou had called him by his given name. That was also the first time he’d let himself willingly be controlled by Shinsou and it had been an oddly intimate experience. 

Damn. A lot of people were using their quirks on Izuku today. (Katsuki had told them to, because Izuku would secretly go all “nerd fanboy” over it.) And deciding to use his given name (Shoto reported that he’d had great success.) He felt giddy with it. 

“You— uh,” Izuku swallowed, trying to collect his thoughts. He shook his head lightly as if it would somehow help. “What about you?”

“Am I under the effects of a quirk?” Shinsou asked.

Izuku nodded. 

“No,” Shinsou said. 

Izuku opened his mouth to ask another question when Shinsou interrupted him.

“Izuku?” Shinsou asked, stepping closer to him till his back hit the counter. His heartbeat picked up. At this distance, their height difference was… distracting. 

“Mmm?” 

“You’re not under a quirk. And neither am I.” Shinsou put both hands on the counter, caging him in with his arms. “And neither is anyone else in 2-A.” 

Izuku just stared up at him, wide-eyed and not quite fully able to put his thoughts into words. Shinsou smelled like sandalwood and coffee— the good, rich kind— and it was making Izuku’s head spin.

“Okay?” Shinsou asked 

“Okay,” Izuku said, his voice coming out oddly strangled. 

Shinsou sighed. “You’re not stupid, Izuku,” he said. “Those idiots may think they’re being subtle, but you’re far too perceptive for your own good.” 

Izuku’s eyes widened as Shinsou voiced almost exactly what he’d been thinking earlier in the dojo. (Shinsou wouldn’t realise this till next year’s sports festival, but he was able to pick up certain loud or repeating thoughts if the person willingly let themselves be controlled by him. Shinsou echoing Izuku’s realisation wasn’t nearly as coincidental as either of them thought it was.)

And then Shinsou leaned in even closer till his lips were inches away from Izuku’s ear. “So let us love you,” he whispered.

Izuku couldn’t help the shudder that racked his whole body. When Shinsou leaned back, Izuku felt like he could breathe again.

“Okay?” Shinsou asked, again.

“Mhm,” Izuku managed. 

“Alright, I’ll see you around, Izuku,” Shinsou said, stepping away.

“Wait,” Izuku cried out. Shinsou stumbled and his hands landed on either side of Izuku again. Izuku pulled him even closer. He swallowed. “Why are you doing all this?” 

Shinsou just grinned. “Because it’s Valentine’s day.”

“No, I mean, why me. ”

A pause. 

“Because you’re not unlovable,” Shinsou answered.

Oh. “Kaminari said something.” Izuku’s face dropped. “To the whole class. Do you guys have a group chat I’m not part of?” Izuku said. “Is this… a prank?” Izuku asked, genuinely confused. It wasn’t a very good prank. Even if everyone was pretending to like him, he was having a great time. A good prank was what Kacchan and the Aldera kids used to put him through.

“What? No. No!” Shinsou said, in a rare burst of emotion. “Is it so hard to believe that we love you? And don’t want you to be alone on Valentine’s Day?”

“But what about your guys’ Valentine’s Day?” Izuku asked somewhat desperately. But even he knew he was grasping at straws.

“Spending Valentine’s Day with Izuku Midoriya is not the chore you think it is,” Shinsou said. “We want to do this.” His eyes were directly on Izuku’s lips. 

Izuku wondered if he was about to get kissed. He kind of hoped he was.

“Understand?” Shinsou asked.

“Mhm,” Izuku nodded. He had no idea why he was nodding. 

Shinsou pulled away and Izuku let out a breath. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved. “See you around,” Shinsou said, taking another step back.

“Yeah, uh, see you around,” Izuku managed to say.

Shinsou looked at him expectantly, not moving any further. 

Izuku stared back. 

Shisou raised an eyebrow. 

Oh. 

“Hitoshi,” Izuku whispered. And then he cleared his throat. “See you around, Hitoshi,” he said a little clearer. 

Shinsou gave him a satisfied smile. “Good.” Then he turned around, fired off a two finger salute and walked out the kitchen. “Happy Valentine's Day,” he called over his shoulder, leaving a hint of sandalwood trailing behind him. 

Izuku fanned his face in a desperate attempt to make the flush in his cheeks disappear faster. He reached for the refrigerator handle, caught a glimpse of his face in the reflective door, and realised he had been hopelessly unsuccessful.

 ════════ ・♡・ ════════

After a full twenty minutes, Izuku felt sufficiently ready to face everyone again. Hitoshi’s words kept playing on loop in his head, and he no longer thought he was the butt of an awful cosmic joke anymore. So that was progress.

Shoto had been replaced by Asui and Hagakure on the dining table. The three of them seemed to be in the middle of what looked suspiciously like a chocolate tasting. 

“Midoriya!” Hagakure cried out. “Yaomomo gave everyone chocolates for Valentine's day!”

“Expensive chocolates,” Uraraka said, almost to herself. 

“Come try them with us,” Hagakure said. 

“Oh,” Izuku said, sliding back into his seat. “I mean—”

“Here, this one is yours,” Hagakure said. 

Izuku took the floating chocolate bar out of the air. “Thanks.”

The chocolate was wrapped in brown paper, the company’s logo embossed in gold. Wow. These are fancy. Izuku opened his bar extremely carefully. It felt wrong to just dig into something this luxurious. Uraraka seemed to share a similar hesitance as him, although Asui and Hagakure seemed to already have taken a bite out of their own— as well as each other’s— chocolate bars. Izuku gently broke off a square of his chocolate and placed it on his tongue.

He had to actively stifle a moan.

It was velvety smooth and rich and delicious. Izuku was delighted to find that it was dark chocolate. The wrapper was so unassuming and minimalist, Izuku hadn’t even realised it. 

“It’s quirked!” Hagakure announced, excitedly. “It’s still chocolate, obviously, but it adapts slightly to every person’s individual taste-buds.”

Izuku didn’t reply, content to just revel in the melting chocolate cube on his tongue. It had the faintest aftertaste of coffee. Uraraka seemed to be in a similar position to him, as she was just sitting there with closed eyes, an expression of bliss on her face. 

“It’s really good,” Izuku said, swallowing.

“Every chocolate bar is still different, though,” Asui said. “Mine has flakes of sea-salt.”

“And mine is orange flavoured,” Hagakure piped up.

“Mine is just… good,” Uraraka said, somewhat embarrassed. 

“Mine is dark chocolate,” Izuku said. “Maybe with, like, a coffee undertone.” Undertone? That definitely wasn’t the right word. Aftertaste? Notes of coffee?

“Would you like to try mine, Midoriya-chan?” Asui asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“If you don’t mind,” Izuku said, with a sheepish smile.

“Say ahh,” Asui said, breaking a piece and holding it up to Izuku’s mouth. 

Izuku giggled a little at the childish gesture, but dutifully opened his mouth. And then the chocolate flavour hit and he couldn’t think of anything else. It was the best milk chocolate he had ever had in his life. He could taste the sea-salt and it cut through the sweetness perfectly. 

“Mmmm,” Izuku sighed happily. “That’s really good.”

“Here,” Hagakure said, and a small square of chocolate was suddenly floating in front of his face. Izuku tried to grab it and it swerved. “Nuh uh,” Hagakure said.

Izuku flushed as he realised what she wanted. He opened his mouth, and sure enough, Hagakure planted the chocolate on his tongue. Wow. Izuku had never realised how well citrus and chocolate mixed till that moment.

“Also, really good!” Izuku said, swallowing.

“Try mine?” Uraraka asked.

This time, Izuku just instinctively opened his mouth for her. Before the mortification could hit, though, Uraraka fed him the chocolate and Izuku just revelled in the taste of her chocolate. It was his favourite apart from his own.

Oh god. He was being fed delicious chocolate by three gorgeous girls. What was his life. 

(On the other hand, all three girls were silently cooing at how adorable Izuku looked.)

“Good?” Uraraka asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, incredibly flustered by the whole situation.

Uraraka tried to hide a smile. “I meant the chocolate.”

“Oh!” Izuku said. “Yeah, also really good.”

“Can I try yours?” Uraraka asked.

“Uh, sure,” Izuku said, hurriedly breaking off a piece 

And he should have expected it, but it still caught him off guard, when he felt a pair of lips wrap around his fingers.

“Mmm!” Uraraka said. “That’s really good!”

“I thought so too— oh!”

Izuku startled as Uraraka brought his fingers back up to her mouth and licked the remnants of the chocolate off his fingertips.

“Why waste, you know?” Uraraka said with a far too innocent smile.

“Right,” Izuku said, desperately trying to ignore the thudding of his heart.

He was able to stomach thirty more seconds of conversation before he said, “Well! I should probably start on that five-pager that’s due tomorrow! See you around, guys.” And hastily made his escape.

(Uraraka was incredibly, sadistically pleased about this. She had a feeling she knew exactly why Izuku had rushed upstairs, and it wasn't to start on the English essay he had already finished earlier today.)

Let us love you, Hitoshi had said. And Izuku would. Right after he locked himself in his dorm for a bit.

・♡・ 

(Izuku got off. His mind flitted through rosy cheeks and tingling fingertips, quirk-warm palms and mismatched eyes, thrumming electricity under his veins, strong hands pinning him down, a slow song, spiky red hair, pink curls, white capture weapons, a brash, loud voice, starbursts behind his eyes, and— and— and—

Izuku wasn’t proud of it. But he also wasn’t surprised.)

・♡・ 

When Izuku came back downstairs, it was with far too many boxes of Pocky, a much clearer head, and an air of determination. It was Saturday night, which meant it was either games night or movie night— a tradition that had continued since their first year— and sharing chocolates with the girls had given him an idea. This Valentine’s Day shit was easy. Two could play at this game.

Sure enough, most people were sprawled in the common room. Izuku made an immediate beeline for Mina who was scrolling through her phone on the couch.

“I brought down my Pocky to share for Valentine’s day!” He said to her, placing the snacks on the table. 

“You what?” Mina asked.

Izuku hoped his look of confusion looked genuine. “Someone told me it’s a Valentine’s day snack. Is it not?” Hook.

Mina blinked at him. “Pocky? Valentines?”

“I don’t know, it was just something someone said,” Izuku said with a shrug.

And then Mina’s eyes widened in glee. “Oh yeah, absolutely, that’s definitely a thing. Mido, do you know the Pocky game?”

“The Pocky game? What’s that?” Line.

“Oh my god, we have to play.” Sinker. 

Let us love you, Hitoshi had said. 

Sorry Hitoshi, I promise I’m trying. I’m not very good at accepting. But I’m pretty damn good at giving. 

It didn’t take long for Mina to wrangle half the class into a circle on the floor.

(“We’re playing a kissing game,” Mina sing-songed. A few people looked excited. “You might get to kiss Mido,” she added in a whisper. Half the class followed immediately.)

“Okay, so!” She said, “One person spins a bottle and whoever it lands on has to play the Pocky game with them. Each person puts one end of the Pocky in their mouth. Win condition? Keep biting the Pocky till you get to the middle. If you chicken out, you lose. If you accidentally break the stick, you lose. If you make it to the middle before your opponent, you win. If you both make it to the middle at the same time, you both win.”

“And if you lose?” Kirishima asked.

Mina’s smile turned vicious. “If you lose, the winner can make you do any one thing they want.”

“Wouldn’t the most efficient strategy, for both parties, be meeting in the middle?” Shoto said, holding up a Pocky stick and examining it. “I imagine if you try to reach the middle the fastest, you’re more likely to break the stick and lose.”

“Exactly,” Mina said, which just made Shoto tilt his head in confusion. “Who wants to go first?”

“Deku should go first since it’s his damn Pocky,” Kacchan drawled, smirking. (Mina tried not to roll her eyes at Bakugou’s predictability. Kirishima met her gaze and she knew he was thinking the same thing.)

“Good idea!” Mina said, placing an empty glass coke bottle on the floor. “Go on.”

Izuku glared at Kacchan. Although… if he spun the bottle just right… 

Izuku watched in sick satisfaction as Kacchan's smile faded from his face. The bottle was pointing right at him. 

“Oooh!” Kaminari called out. “Deku-Kacchan showdown!!”

“Shut up, Pikachu,” Kacchan said. He pointed an accusing finger at Izuku. “You did that on fucking purpose, didn’t you nerd?”

“Conceited much?” Kaminari goaded. “No one wants to kiss you that bad Kacchan.” 

“WHAT WAS THAT—”

“You scared, Kacchan?” Izuku cut in before Kacchan decided to actually blast Kaminari’s face off.

“The fuck?” Kacchan turned back to him. “No.”

Mina pointed to the many flavours— chocolate, matcha, strawberry, cookies and cream, and god knows what else— and said, “Pick your poison.”

“Matcha,” Izuku said.

“Strawberry,” Kacchan said at the same time. 

They both blinked at each other. Matcha had always been Kacchan’s favourite Pocky flavour, and Izuku actively remembered him complaining— on many occasions— that strawberry was way too sweet so why would he… oh. They had both called out the other’s favourite flavour. (And had both immediately thought: Why do I remember that? Followed by: Why does he remember that? Followed by: Ugh, we’re so lame.)

“Matcha is fine,” Izuku said.

“Tch,” Kacchan said, not meeting his eyes. “Whatever.”

God, Kacchan was so easy. Izuku had the sudden epiphany that games of chicken like Pocky were probably invented for the exact breed of people that Kacchan was. 

Izuku put the biscuit end of the Pocky in between his teeth; Kacchan moved forward and wrapped his lips around the other end. In this proximity, Izuku could see every shade of crimson and orange in Kacchan’s eyes and it felt like he was surrounded by the smell of caramel. Izuku just let his eyes fall shut, enjoying the taste of the sweet treat in his mouth, the warmth exuding from Kacchan’s body, the scent that wrapped him up like a blanket. He continued biting and almost pulled away when Kacchan’s breath ghosted over his lips before he remembered the game. And then that competitive spirit that always seemed to spike around Kacchan rose up in him. He took that one last triumphant bite, felt their lips touch, and was just about to move away when Kacchan pulled him back in. Pulled him back in and firmly slanted his lips across Izuku’s in what was unmistakably a kiss. 

Izuku squeaked in surprise, eyes flying open, but Kacchan tangled a hand in Izuku’s hair and kept him steady. Kacchan gently pulled at the roots and Izuku’s eyes fluttered back shut. All of a sudden, he had no motivation to pull away as Kacchan all but devoured his mouth. 

And then Kacchan was sitting back. “I win,” he said. His lips were glossy. Izuku wanted to lick them clean.

“We both reached the middle at the same time,” Izuku protested, hoping his voice didn’t come out as weak as it felt. His head was still rushing with blood. He swallowed the taste of Kacchan and matcha Pocky. 

“Maybe, but I think Bakugou still won,” Kirishima said, a huge grin plastered on his face. 

That’s when Izuku looked around to see an array of shock, exasperation, and teasing glances being shot their way. Kacchan assessed him and then he glanced at Mina who shot him a conspiratorial look. Izuku gulped at the dangerous look that crossed over Kacchan’s face. “You have to play five more rounds of Pocky but blindfolded. And you have to guess who you’re playing against.”

“What?” Izuku exclaimed. “But we both won.” 

But no one else seemed to register his outrage. Mina was immediately looking around the room for a blindfold and the rest of the class seemed to be exchanging glances as if already deciding who the five were going to be.

“No such thing as two winners,” Kacchan shrugged.

Before he knew it Uraraka was pulling him into the center of the circle.

Izuku stared wildly around the class till his eyes landed on the figure he was looking for. Help he mouthed to Hitoshi. He was only half joking.

But Hitoshi just gave him a smirk and shrugged. Let us love you, he mouthed back. 

Oh god. Suddenly, Izuku was finding it hard to breathe and his eyes prickled and his hands were getting sweaty and he was desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat, and then he saw the black fabric in Mina’s eyes and all but sighed in relief. That was good, even if the fabric got wet, it wouldn’t show— and, ever since the war, Izuku had gotten very good at crying quietly. He thought he saw Shinsou’s smirk fall ever so slightly, but then Mina gently tugged the rectangular cloth over his eyes and behind his head and the world went dark. 

“Too tight?” Mina asked, knotting the fabric— one of Kirishima’s bandanas, Izuku now realised— behind his head.

But Izuku could still see the slightest bit of carpet in the bottom of his eyes, and for some reason that felt simultaneously too much and not enough so he just said, “Tighter.”

Mina complied and Izuku gasped. And then she gently tucked a stray curl along with the blindfold behind his ear and his breath hitched for an entirely different reason. “Ready, baby?” Mina whispered into his ear. 

Izuku just nodded, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

People were murmuring and whispering, probably deciding the five, but all Izuku could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. Someone sat on his right— who? Oh, Kacchan, of course— And then there was a finger against his lip and Izuku jerked backwards.

“What—” Izuku was cut off as someone placed a Pocky stick in between his lips. Oh right. The game. Wait. He knew those hands, or more specifically, those fingertips. Only one person had such specific calluses on their fingertips because of their quirk. Izuku raised a hand to take the Pocky out of his mouth and say “Uraraka” even before the game began (much too pleased with himself) but then the same calloused fingertips gripped his hand and gently brought it back down in his lap. 

A thumb dug into the back of his hand. Calloused. Intentional. Firm. I know you know who I am, that touch seemed to say. Let us love you, that touch seemed to say.

And all of a sudden Izuku realised he was playing an entirely different game than what he had been led to believe. The Pocky was no longer slack in between his teeth as someone else took the other end in their mouth. And began inching closer. Izuku sank into the burst of chocolate on his tongue, into the subtle scent of Uraraka’s piney shampoo in front of him.  Izuku was surprised. He didn’t know why he had expected something sweet, but she smelled like rain and forests and fresh things. When they met in the middle, her lips were overwhelmingly gentle against his. 

He didn’t pull away. 

Neither did she.

Uraraka pressed closer, moving her lips across his. Izuku kissed back. When she did pull back, Izuku almost shivered as the cold air hit his saliva-slick lips. 

He swallowed the Pocky still in his mouth and said, “Uraraka.” His voice came out far too quiet. 

“Yes,” Uraraka said, even quieter. Just for him. She squeezed his hand again— he hadn’t even realised she had still been holding it— and then the air shifted and Izuku knew she had moved away from him. 

He could hear conversation and music from further in the room and was distantly grateful that it wasn’t the entire class focussed on him anymore. Clearly, some people had wandered off during the deciding process. The music from Jirou’s playlist was also slightly louder. But that could just as easily have been the increased sensitivity of his hearing, Izuku realised. 

(It wasn’t. Jirou was playing music that she knew Izuku would like, that would calm him down. She could hear his heartbeat jackrabbiting in his chest.)

Izuku heard scuffling as someone settled in front of him and someone else… behind him? And when he leaned back, he was surrounded by Uraraka’s piney scent and her chest was pressed against his back close enough to make him flush. 

Someone gently turned his head to face the front. Another hand— the same person? Uraraka? He didn’t know. Oh god, he didn’t know — gently slid his lips open and settled a cookies-and-cream Pocky stick in between them. Someone else bit into the other side. When they met in the middle, the person smacked a kiss on his lips. Then one cheek. Then the other. 

Izuku giggled. “Mina,” he said, easily placing the enthusiasm. And recalling the cheek kiss from earlier.

He could all but hear the frown in her voice when she said, “You’re too good at this.”

And before he had a chance to respond, another Pocky was being shoved, none too gently, in between his lips. A pair of hands came to rest on his crossed knees tapping mindlessly against the skin. Izuku inched forward. So did the other person. Izuku hummed happily at the taste of the strawberry Pocky.

Izuku had his suspicions, but they were realised when Kaminari’s lips pressed against his and his quirk misfired, sending a slight electrical jolt through his legs.

Kaminari immediately pulled back. “Sorry—”

“Wait,” Izuku cried out. And then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know who you are yet, I need more hints.” 

A few people giggled at the blatant lie, but Izuku held out his hands palm-up. And then quieter, just for the person in front of him: “You said anytime.”

Kaminari took his hands and Izuku knew he had understood because there was an immediate thrumming under his skin. His body buzzed, his mind felt empty. For a second it felt like he could just… let go. It felt especially intense while robbed of his sight. In fact… almost too intense. Izuku realised with a hint of panic that Kaminari was letting far more of his quirk flow into Izuku than he had earlier. 

“Ka—” he tried to say, but then there were lips crashing against his, swallowing the rest of the sound. Izuku fidgeted and tried to get away but Kaminari’s hands just tightened against his. Uraraka’s arms came around to hug his stomach.

(Izuku didn’t know that Kaminari was staring at Uraraka with a lazy smirk because he knew she could feel his electricity too. He turned up the intensity and watched in wonder as Uraraka’s eyes got hazy.)

So Izuku let himself be kissed senseless. Mina was running her hands through his hair, and he could still feel Uraraka pressed against his back; all the while, the thrumming under his skin got more and more intense, and Kaminari still wasn’t stopping. Kaminari bit down on Izuku’s bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Fucking hell. Who knew Kaminari of all people had a sadistic streak? 

When Kaminari finally, finally, pulled away, Izuku was able to gasp out, “Kaminari.” He felt like headrush personified. He felt like putty in Kaminari’s fingers.

A few people whistled. “You really did a number on him,” he heard Sero snicker. And that’s when Izuku was rudely jumpstarted back into the real world. Right, he was surrounded by people. His whole class. And they all saw him… like this. His blindfold was wet against his eyes.

“Who’s next,” Izuku tried to joke. Only it came out as a sob. Everyone in Izuku’s immediate vicinity went quiet. 

Ah fuck. Now Izuku was crying for real. 

Someone cradled his face, thumbs gently rubbing over his cheeks. He smelled coffee and a heady, woodsy cologne and oh, thank fuck—

Izuku suddenly felt safe and warm and anxious and desperate all at the same time, and he knew Shinsou couldn’t read minds but he may as well be able to, because Izuku was screaming in his head: Tell me what to do, please tell me what to do , but all Izuku was able to say was,

“Purple,”

And his mind still went blissfully blank. 

Underwater. Safe. Far away. Safe. Safe. Shinsou keeps him under for less than five seconds, but that's all Izuku needs.

Izuku still whined when Shinsou let go of his quirk, but then someone was shushing him and he noticed Mina was still running her hands through his hair, and Uraraka had her arms wrapped around his stomach, hugging him close to her chest. And Kaminari was rubbing soothing circles into the palms of his hand where his quirk had been the strongest. 

“I’m sorry,” Kaminari said from his left. “That was too much.”

“No!” Izuku immediately countered. “I—” oh god this was embarrassing, was he really going to say this, oh god oh god, “I liked it. It was hot.”

Kaminari’s hands stilled against his palms. And then he giggled and said, “I’m glad.” But he still sounded uncertain.

“It was good,” Izuku insisted, squeezing his hands in assurance. “Promise.”

Kaminari’s knuckles gently brushed over a cheekbone. Izuku pressed into his touch. “Okay, okay, I believe you," Kaminari said.

(Mina, Uraraka, and Kaminari were all staring at each other wide-eyed, coming to the exact same conclusion: Izuku was not only an incredible kisser, but a downright masochist. Even Katsuki looked a little awestruck.)

Izuku settled back more firmly against Uraraka as someone else’s hand grabbed his chin and maneuvered him to face the front again. Izuku was almost giddy with the anticipation of kissing Hitoshi. 

There was a thumb opening his mouth and the pad of a finger flat on his tongue. He tasted bitterness and salt and licked further to get more of the taste into his mouth after all the sweetness. Someone gasped. And then another Pocky was being placed on his tongue. Chocolate. His lips instinctively closed around it and he bit down. Chewed. Bit down. Chewed. Moved forward. Like it was muscle memory, like his body knew what to do at this point. Izuku wondered if Hitoshi did use his quirk after all and then quickly decided he didn’t care either way. 

As soon as he met Hitoshi’s lips in the center of the Pocky, Hitoshi pulled away.

“No!” Izuku cried out, again. 

Someone snickered, but he didn’t care, just didn’t care. He smelled caramel and pine and strawberries around him, the ozone before a thunderstorm—now sandalwood and rich coffee, and his hands were blindly reaching forward. They landed heavy on— a face? His other hand came up, yes, a face. And then he dragged Hitoshi back towards his lips. The kiss felt like security, like a weighted blanket, like something heavy and stable and sure. All concrete to Kaminari’s electricity.

He didn’t realise that his hands were shaking and his breaths were coming out in pants till Hitoshi whispered against his lips, “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Izuku whispered back before he could think about it too hard. 

More shuffling. Hitoshi took Kaminari’s place on his left. Kacchan remained a steady presence on his right; Uraraka a steady presence at his back. Mina must be sitting on the sofa above and behind them, because he could still feel her hands in his hair. Kaminari must have joined her on the sofa because her hands faltered for a second. Izuku let out a slow, calm breath as he finally felt like he had enough information to gather his bearings.

More shuffling. Someone’s hand landed on Izuku’s right shoulder, and it took him less than a second to recognise Kacchan. He thought of their past, of burn marks on that very shoulder, of the smell of singed clothes, of crumpled and wet paper, and leaned right back into Kacchan’s touch, knowing he had nothing to be afraid of anymore. And then all of his hard-won composure flew right out the window as Kacchan slid his hand down his shoulder, grabbed his hand, interlocked their fingers, and squeezed. Tightly. Possessively. 

“Kach-mmph!” Izuku wasn’t even able to get Kacchan’s name out before someone slipped a Pocky between his lips. Strawberry. His favourite. If Izuku hadn’t been blindfolded, he would have rolled his eyes. There was only one person who could elicit such a reaction from Kacchan. That would pay close enough attention to remember Kacchan's flavour choice from earlier.

Izuku was entirely unsurprised when two hands with slightly differing temperatures landed carefully on his knees. If he hadn’t been certain before, the gentle hesitance with which Shoto kissed him when they met in the middle definitely cemented his guess. His head felt floaty and light when Shoto stopped.

He hummed in contemplation, swallowing the sweet strawberry Pocky. “Wait, can you kiss me again? I’m not sure.” 

“Oooh,” Mina sing-songed. “Is someone giving you trouble?”

Izuku winced as Kacchan’s hold on his hand tightened. But Kacchan couldn’t call Izuku out on his bluff without revealing the fact that he had been paying intimately close attention. 

“Maybe I just want another kiss.”

(Katsuki glared daggers at Shoto like this whole situation was somehow his fault. Shoto was too busy staring at Izuku’s kiss-swollen lips.)

A few people laughed. For the first time this whole game, Izuku wished he didn’t have his blindfold on, because he just knew that Shoto would be blushing up a storm. The fact that Kacchan was holding onto Izuku’s hand in what was undeniably a jealous rage was an added bonus. It was nice to be wanted back by him. Even if it was just for today. 

Shoto kissed him, just as light and lovely and airy as last time. 

Izuku pulled back smiling. “Shoto,” Izuku said, his voice a little dreamy. Izuku did wince this time when Kacchan squeezed hard. A part of him wondered if it was the use of Shoto’s first name or the tone of his voice. With a sadistic sort of glee, he realised he didn’t much care as long as it got Kacchan acting like this. 

“Izuku?” Hitoshi asked.

“Hmm?” Izuku intoned, hand already coming up to his blindfold. Hitoshi held his hand in place.

Hitoshi asked a question that all but killed him in its kindness. 

“Do you want to stop?”

So Izuku said the most damning thing he had said the whole night.

“No.”

He felt Kacchan shuffle forward and then his head was being turned and Kacchan was kissing him hard and deep, all pretense of the game forgotten. People around him cheered and “ooohed” and groaned but Kacchan just ran his tongue over the seam of his lips and Izuku dutifully opened his mouth because who was he to deny Kacchan anything. His head spun with the whiplash of Shoto’s sugar sweet kiss to the explosion that was Katsuki Bakugou. Kacchan kissed like he did everything else: arrogant and flashy and frustratingly perfect. 

“You’re crying again,” Kacchan said when he ended the messy kiss by biting Izuku’s bottom lip and pulling it between his teeth before letting it snap back into place.

Izuku sniffled and let out a choked sound that was as much laugh as it was sob. “I know.” For some reason this was the final straw. Kacchan kissing him. Willingly. Unafraid. Not because of a game, but because he wanted to. Passionate and possessive and in front of the whole class. 

Izuku tried to lift his hand to take off his blindfold— because he needed to see now, he would go crazy if they kept him blind for another second longer— but Kacchan was holding one in a death grip, and Hitoshi was still loosely holding the other. It would have been simple enough to pull away from both, either, any of them, but he didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want either of them to let go. 

So, somewhat desperately, he just said, “Help,” having no idea what he was asking for. 

What he wasn’t expecting was another gentle kiss. It took him a second to recognise the sharp teeth as Kirishima. He panted and sniffled into the silence after the kiss before realising they were waiting for him to say something. “Kirishima,” he choked out. 

Another pair of lips. Firm but gentle. Long hair tickled his face. “Yaoyorozu.”

Another kiss. Oddly stiff, but the hands that cradled his face were overwhelmingly gentle. “Iida.”

Another kiss. Lips that tasted like cherry lipgloss. She giggled through the kiss, before squishing his cheeks together and pecking his lips a few times. “Hagakure.”

Another kiss. Sugar sweet. Literally. “Sato.”

A shy peck on each cheek. “Jirou.”

Hitoshi and Kacchan kept hold of his hands, through it all. One lax, caring, loving, the other bruisingly possessive.  

Another kiss. Hesitant and sweet. Izuku smiled. “Shoto.”

Another kiss. All tongue. Messy and wet and lovely. “Tsuyu.”

Another kiss. Less hesitant, still sweet. “Shoto.”

Another kiss. “Shoto.”

Another kiss. Unhurried. Confident. “Sero.”

Another kiss. And a spark against his shoulder that made him jump. “Kaminari.”

Another kiss. “Shoto.”

Another kiss. “Shoto.”

Another kiss. Bruising. “Kacchan! ” 

Another kiss. “Uraraka.” He barely managed to get her name out, he was crying so hard by now.

Another kiss. And, oh, this is who he was waiting for. “Off. Mina, please.”

Mina was overwhelmingly gentle as she untied the blindfold and let it fall. He tried to wipe his tears, but Hitoshi and Kacchan were still holding his hands down, and Uraraka was keeping him still against her, so he just cried harder. The light felt blinding after so long in the dark. He could see dancing lights and his vision was all splotchy through his tears anyway.

“Oh baby,” Mina said. “You’re a mess.”

“And whose fault is that?” Izuku laugh-sobbed. 

“Hmmm,” Mina just rubbed her thumbs over Izuku’s cheeks. She wasn’t wiping the tears away, he realised. She was just rubbing them into his cheeks, letting fresh ones fall over her thumbs as they trailed over his cheekbones. “You’re such a pretty crier though.”

A few people hummed in agreement. Izuku was still struggling to make out individual expressions through his tears, but more eyes were on him than he had anticipated. 

“Stop, ” Izuku said in a strained voice. 

“But you are,” Mina said. “Gorgeous.”

Izuku turned to his left. “Hitoshi,” he whispered. He didn’t know what else to say. Hitoshi finally let go of his hand and pulled him into a hug. 

“I’ve got you,” he said. 

Izuku sobbed. 

“Cuddle pile!” Uraraka said from behind him.

“NO!” Kacchan cried out, but then he too was being squished towards Izuku and there were hands and legs everywhere and more people were crying and it was all such a perfect, wonderful mess that Izuku sobs finally started trailing off into laughter.

When legs and bodies started untangling, Izuku allowed himself to be selfish. He let go of the fear of ruining the game, let go of the feeling of killing the mood and made peace with the fact that his friends loved him even when they said no. 

So he simply asked, “Can we watch a movie?” And desperately tried to convince his brain that this simple question wasn’t the threat it thought it was. Kacchan squeezed his hand. He still hadn’t let go.

Obviously, easily, everyone said yes. (Uraraka and Katsuki were both independently confident that they would do anything Izuku asked at any time. More and more people in the class were discovering the same about themselves.)

“What do you want to watch?” Hagakure asked.

And Izuku floundered. Some of his latent panic threatened to bubble up again. 

“How about that Ghibli film you recommended to me?” Shoto asked, and shot him a smile that made Izuku feel like he was a small, beautiful thing being cupped in the warmest palms of the world.

Izuku clung to the feeling like a raft in the middle of a storm. “Howl’s Moving Castle?”

“Oh, that’s perfect for Valentines day!” Kaminari cried out.

“I’ll pull it up,” Hitoshi said, already moving towards the T.V.

And then there were pillows and blankets and popcorn and giggles as people passed around the remaining boxes of Pocky. Apparently Kacchan had frozen cookie dough which he handed over to Sato to bake because he still hadn’t let go of Izuku’s hand. Soon enough, the whole dorm smelled like chocolate chip cookies. 

Somehow he ended up on a comforter on the floor while they watched the movie. Uraraka had her head on his shoulder, Kacchan was still holding his hand. Shoto was behind him on the couch, running quirk-warmed hands through his hair and over his shoulders.

Izuku hadn’t been watching the movie for a long time now.

He jumped as he noticed the increasing temperature of Kacchan’s hand. But Kacchan just held firm. 

“Lost you there for a hot minute,” Kacchan said.

“Ow,” Izuku just said.

“You good?” And though his tone sounded cavalier, Izuku knew him well enough to recognise worry when he heard it. In fact, Kacchan looked nervous. 

Izuku nodded. “I’m just…”

And he didn’t know how to finish that sentence. The enormity of the day hadn’t fully caught up to him yet. He wasn’t sure it ever would. Let us love you, Hitoshi had said. Maybe if Izuku could do that for today, then he could also do it for tomorrow. And the day after that.

“…happy I’m here.” Izuku finished. Woefully inadequate, but he knew Kacchan of all people would understand. 

Kacchan hummed in satisfaction and turned back to the screen. His hand loosened just a little bit.