Never a Crowd

by PitViperOfDoom

Summary:

They fit together, hands and hearts like puzzle pieces.

Chapter 1: Day 1: Beginnings

No matter the outcome, Tenya tells himself again and again, nothing bad can come of this. Nothing bad can come of being honest with two of one’s closest friends.

Never mind that a confession alone would be nerve-wracking enough with only a single person as the addressee, and that this could easily blow up in his face. Never mind that Tenya’s heart is already pounding as he makes his way down the stairs from the third floor.

Tenya prides himself on having a general idea of where his classmates are at all times. It has proven useful in the past when trying to corral and organize them—for outings, for training, for group study sessions and class-wide bonding activities and the like. Of course, his intentions are significantly narrower and somewhat more self-serving than usual, but it’s still useful.

He knows, for example, that seven of his classmates are home for the weekend. Of those that are still here, Tokoyami and Ojiro are studying with Shouji in the latter’s room, Ashido is hosting a nail-painting party in her room with Yaoyorozu, Aoyama, Satou, and Tsuyu, and Bakugou and Kirishima are away from the dorms at the moment and not due to come back for some time.

That leaves Midoriya and Todoroki, who have been studying in the common room for the past hour, with no one likely to interrupt for the time being.

Therefore, he isn’t likely to get another chance as perfect as this.

He has time and opportunity; all he needs now is pure nerve.

He’s being silly about this. Worst case scenario, they turn him down, and nothing changes. And that would be perfectly all right with Tenya; he’s hardly unhappy with things the way they are, with having two of the truest friends one could ever ask for. He can’t possibly be unhappy being a friend to clever, compassionate Midoriya and quiet, determined Todoroki.

Heaven help him, he wouldn’t be hopelessly in love with the pair of them if he were.

And that’s the sticking point, isn’t it? If he were in love with only Midoriya or only Todoroki, then this would be so simple. But with both, there are so many possible outcomes. Maybe they return his feelings, maybe they don’t. Maybe only one of them feels the same. Maybe they feel that way about him, but not about each other. Maybe this is just too strange, and even if they did return his feelings, they aren’t willing to share.

Tenya is extra-quiet as he steps out of the stairwell and makes his way out to the common area, and that’s why he hears them speaking before he sees them or they see him.

“Are you sure about this?” That’s Todoroki’s voice, low and quiet, and Tenya is no Jirou Kyouka but he hears it just the same. He pauses, not wanting to interrupt a private conversation.

“Of course I am!” Midoriya replies. There’s something in his tone that Tenya can’t quite put a name to. “I mean… unless… are you sure?”

“I’m sure of how I feel,” Todoroki tells him. “It’s just… this could go wrong. You know that, right?”

“I don’t think it’s as risky as you think. And if it is, well, that just makes it more worthwhile to try.”

Todoroki is quiet for a moment. Tenya almost steps out to greet them, before he speaks again. “But there are a lot of risks to this. To both of us.”

“I know.”

“You know my father would never approve.”

Tenya hears Midoriya tsk in irritation. “Endeavor can eat my entire—”

“Midoriya.”

(Tenya’s jaw drops.)

“Izuku,” Midoriya answers, and Tenya goes still. “I-I mean… if we’re going to do this… call me Izuku?”

“Izuku…?” Todoroki repeats the name, sounding it out as if he’s learning a new word for the first time. When he replies, his voice is hushed. “I’ve… always wanted you to call me Shouto. It’s nice to have an excuse to ask.”

It’s burning curiosity and pure foolishness that makes Tenya creep out of hiding, just far enough to see into the common room. Todoroki and Midoriya are sitting together on the couch, and they’re close—closer than Tenya has ever seen them, close enough that Midoriya is practically crawling into Todoroki’s lap. The angle is wrong for Tenya to see Midoriya’s face, but he sees Todoroki’s just fine, from the blush that lights it up to the look in his eyes. Tenya has seen Todoroki do many extraordinary things in the past, but he has never seen him look vulnerable before.

For a split second he’s mortified, struck frozen with the knowledge that he’s walked in on something very private.

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Midoriya says. “It’s not like we have to do this alone. That’s sort of the point of… well.” Todoroki opens his mouth to speak, but Midoriya presses on. “And no matter what, we’re all friends first, right?” His head tilts to the side. “I-I just happen to love you, too.”

And before Tenya can come to his senses and duck back, he sees Todoroki card his fingers through Midoriya’s hair and pull him into a kiss.

Tenya finds it in himself to leave then, turning and slipping away as noiselessly as he can manage. His face burns with embarrassment, and the feelings in his chest are pulled several different ways.

He’s happy for his friends. He truly is. Wasn’t one of his worries that they wouldn’t love one another the way he did?

But he ought to have expected this. Especially since it’s taken him so long to gather up his courage.

Oh, well.

That’s what happens when you put things off, isn’t it? You find yourself missing all your best chances.

He reaches the door to his room, and to his surprise, the elevator gives a soft chime. Tenya glances back, perplexed. The only person on his floor who hasn’t gone home is Ojiro, and surely he’s not finished studying with Tokoyami and Shouji yet, is he? Perhaps he forgot something in his room?

But the door opens, and to his surprise it’s not Ojiro who steps out, but Midoriya, with Todoroki only a pace behind. At the sight of Tenya, Midoriya actually jumps.

“O-oh! Iida! H-hi, I thought—I mean, we thought… y-you’re outside your room.”

Beside him, Todoroki quirks an almost-smile, and Tenya tries to squash the feelings that arise at the sight of it. Todoroki leans closer to Midoriya’s ear, muttering, “So much for bracing ourselves,” whatever that means.

“W-why yes, I was just—returning from the restroom, that’s all,” Tenya fibs. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yes,” Midoriya squeaks.

“You,” Todoroki adds.

Midoriya’s face goes a little pink. “T-to talk to you!”

Tenya turns away from his door to face them fully as they approach, masking his faint discomfort with a smile and what he hopes is welcoming body language. “Why of course! No need to be so nervous, Midoriya, you can always talk to me if you need to. What is it?”

“W-well, um, you should know that, m-me and Todoroki… we’re, uh.” Midoriya shoots a wide-eyed glance at Todoroki, who offers a placid, vaguely encouraging look in return before turning to Iida himself.

“We’re together now,” he says, and the blunt confirmation sinks like nails into Tenya’s heart.

He smiles again. “C-congratulations, both of you!” He wonders why they feel the need to tell him that. Oh God—have they noticed his affections? Are they saying this as a way to let him down gently, or stake a claim on one another? He thought he was being careful, but if he’s made them uncomfortable in any way—

“R-right!” Midoriya squeaks out. “A-and, um, actually we were thinking of talking to you about this later, maybe after the weekend was over, b-b-because it’s still a little new, this, uh, thing, that we have… and I thought it’d maybe be a good idea to get a feel for it first but then Todo—ah, Shouto said why wait, and the dorms are quiet and your floor’s probably empty so it’s private and this is a pretty good opportunity and sometimes this kind of thing is like ripping off a band-aid—n-n-not that it’s a bad thing! Or anything! It’s just, maybe a little strange, and I wasn’t sure if—”

Todoroki cuts off the chatter with a light touch to the small of Midoriya’s back. Midoriya flushes red again, and Tenya pretends his heart doesn’t sink a little with envy at the gentle intimacy of the gesture.

In fact, he’s so preoccupied in that moment that he almost doesn’t hear what Todoroki says next.

“We were wondering if you wanted to.”

Tenya blinks. His sinking heart shudders to a halt. “Wanted to… what?”

Todoroki meets his eyes briefly, and Tenya recognizes that look. It’s rare for Todoroki to show a soft underbelly, but he has the same look of vulnerability as he did minutes ago—only it’s not pointed at Midoriya this time.

It’s pointed at Tenya.

“To… to date… us,” Todoroki replies, and his hand slips into Midoriya’s.

“We like you,” Midoriya blurts out before Tenya can reply. “W-we both do, and I know it’s not—it’s not exactly, um, conventional, but it’s just… we talked about it, and w-we’re not sure if you feel the same way but…”

“We do,” Todoroki adds. “Feel the same way, I mean. About you. So we just thought, why force ourselves to choose?”

Tenya wishes he could capture this feeling and bottle it. He feels as if he’s under the influence of Uraraka’s quirk—lighter than a feather, lighter than the air itself. He opens his mouth and closes it, several times, and probably looks like an awful fool in the process. “I—you two—you mean you truly…?” He pauses a moment to gather himself back together. “You mean that?”

Midoriya’s smile trembles a bit, and he shrugs. “Just doesn’t feel complete without you, Iida.”

And Tenya—

Tenya laughs.

It’s equal parts joy, embarrassment, and relief. “Well. Now I feel like a bit of a fool,” he says, and his feet are firmly on the ground but his heart is roughly level with the stratosphere. “It seems you’re both quite a bit braver than I am.” He folds his hands, because if he lets himself gesture freely while feeling like this, then he might just clout one of them by accident. “If… if it’s not an intrusion, then… I would be honored.” No, that feels too stilted, too formal. “I mean… yes. I do feel the same way, and I would love nothing better.”

Midoriya beams, and Todoroki—

Oh, yes. Tenya could get used to seeing him smile like that.

His feet carry him forward without a command from his brain, a thrill of audacity driving him into Todoroki’s space.

“If I may—” he begins, and Todoroki kisses him before he can get another word out. They’re pressed together, all three of them closer than they’ve ever been before, and Tenya needs only turn his head to find Midoriya’s lips, as well.

Chapter 2: Day 2: Past/Future

Izuku was not used to this sort of thing.

Dating. For obvious reasons, he had next to no experience in that arena. If anyone had told middle-school Midoriya Izuku that he would end up dating not one, but two of the most amazing, kind, wonderful (good-looking) boys in his class—at the same time, no less—he would have laughed. Maybe he would have stopped laughing before anyone started edging away and tactfully suggesting calming teas.

But here he was, against all odds, wandering the shopping mall with Iida’s arm thrown warmly around his shoulders and Todoroki on his other side, close enough for Izuku to feel the cold wafting off of him. Iida’s other arm was free to gesticulate with neither of them in range, and they were content to let him dominate the conversation.

(Just a week ago, he’d knocked his own glasses clean off his nose in a fit of righteous energy. That was the first time Izuku ever saw Todoroki choke on his own spit laughing.)

It had been over a year since he’d gotten One For All. In a few days, their second year would start. He should be used to this by now—feeling surrounded and full and warm all the time, the exact opposite of loneliness. And yet, from time to time, it still felt new and wild and…

“Are you hungry, Midoriya?” Iida asked, drawing him out of his reverie. “It’s about lunchtime. How late did you eat breakfast?”

“Pretty early, I guess,” Izuku answered promptly. “I got up for a run this morning.” His stomach growled. “…Does that answer your question?”

Todoroki let out a quiet huff of almost-laughter and leaned closer. He wasn’t nearly as free with casual public affection as Izuku and Iida were—it was hard to be, with the worry that word might find its way back to his father somehow. (Endeavor knew nothing of their current arrangement, and the less he knew, the better.)

“To the food court, then!” Iida crowed, and led the way to the escalators. “Not exactly the healthiest of options, I’m afraid, but it is close by and convenient.”

“We’ve been good lately,” Izuku pointed out. “It’s not like one afternoon treating ourselves is going to ruin our health.” He dug Iida lightly in the ribs. “We can live a little, can’t we?”

“I suppose so,” Iida conceded. “Everything in moderation, and all that.”

“I’m gonna eat my weight in fast food,” Todoroki said flatly, and almost grinned when Iida launched into an enthusiastic tirade on proper portion control.

They split up at the food court. It was somewhat crowded, but Izuku was reasonably certain that they could find an open table later. He stood in line, lips moving as he weighed the options on the menu display. Every now and then he would glance back across the bustling food court, and spot Todoroki’s bright hair or Iida’s distinctive figure in the crowd.

He had just gotten his food, and was turning back to find them again, when he found himself being hailed.

“Holy shit. Is that—?

“Look who it is!”

“Oh my God, it’s Deku.”

Izuku didn’t recognize the voices. They were vaguely familiar, in a way that sent prickles up his spine like a reflex, but he couldn’t put names or faces to them before he turned around.

The moment he saw them, his heart sank. Oh. Them. There were two boys and two girls. Once upon a time, one of those boys had been one of Bakugou’s hangers-on—and only that, because Bakugou hadn’t had actual friends since before elementary school. The other boy hadn’t had much to do with Bakugou, but seeing his face brought Izuku a vivid memory of his old All-Might bookbag drowning in a dirty toilet, and the girls were only barely recognizable without their hands covering their mouths to stifle derisive laughter.

He gave his thoughts a mental shake, embarrassed with himself. No need for bitterness. His life was different now. All of that was behind him.

“Hello,” he said, and realized he couldn’t remember any of their names.

“Long time no see, Deku,” Bakugou’s former not-friend answered with a smile that was a little too wide to be friendly. The way he said Deku was different from the way Uraraka said it, or the way supervising pro heroes said it during internships. In his mouth it was still an insult, not a friendly nickname or an acknowledgment of his status as a future pro himself.

Izuku let it wash over him, pasted on a smile, and nodded. He wondered if Todoroki and Iida had gotten their food yet.

“So what’re you up to now?” one of the girls piped up. “Like what’s going on with you?”

In the space of two seconds, Izuku’s brain offered up a rapid-fire replay of the entire previous year. His eye twitched. “Not much. School starts next week, so we’re taking a break before training starts up again.”

“Training?” the other boy echoed. “What school are you going to?”

Izuku blinked at him. “Um, I got accepted to UA,” he said slowly. His test results had been the talk of Orudera Middle School after they got out, hadn’t they?

His former classmates stared back, all with varying degrees of doubt and confusion on their faces. One of the boys snorted a laugh. “No, yeah whatever, I mean where are you going now?”

“U… A…?” A strange tightness took hold of him across his shoulders.

“Bullshit,” the other boy blurted out. “I figured you’d drop out two weeks in.”

“I had money on you lasting a whole term,” one of the girls laughed. “But c’mon, Midoriya, where are you really going now?”

“I’m—I’m still at UA.” Why was he stammering? It had been a year. He should be past this; this was the past, and he had a future as a pro hero ahead of him.

He’d faced off against villains and gangsters, he’d run into danger countless times, and he’d witnessed the fall of All For One. How was it that the sight of four nameless faces from middle school were suddenly throwing him for a loop?

“I call bullshit,” Bakugou’s not-friend scoffed. “UA’s, like, the best school for heroes, right? Even if Deku got in, there’s no way they’d let kids at the back of the pack stick around for long.”

Izuku bridled. The shame vanished, replaced with anger. “Who’s in the back of the pack?” he shot back. “I have the fourth highest grades in my class.”

The other boy scoffed. “Yeah, with the nerd stuff, sure, but like, heroes actually have to fight.” He snorts on a laugh. “Can you guys imagine Endeavor getting stuffed in a locker?” The others chuckled along with him, and Izuku tensed at the mention of his boyfriend’s father.

Izuku glanced down at himself, noting the comfortably loose jacket and jeans he was wearing. He wasn’t exactly dressed to show off his physique.

He really wanted to leave.

“I mean, Endeavor’s son goes to UA, doesn’t he?” one of the girls said. “And Ingenium’s brother, too.” She wrinkled her nose at Deku, grinning dubiously at him. “I’d think a school like UA would focus more on them than somebody…” Like you, she didn’t say. “…from a school like Orudera, right?”

Izuku had heard enough. “Well, you’ll have to take that up with them, I guess,” he said with a shrug, and turned to walk away.

“Hey, c’mon, Deku,” Bakugou’s not-friend stepped after him, grabbing his arm none too gently above the elbow. “We’re just catching up, right? Where’re you go…ing…?”

Izuku was looking back, staring him dead in the eye. Without blinking, or moving an inch more than necessary, he flexed the muscle that his former classmate was holding.

Beneath his deceptively loose sleeve, his bicep bulged, and the other boy promptly lost his grip. The cocky grin vanished as if Izuku had slapped it off his face, and for a moment he simply gaped at him, lips parting in shock.

“Midoriya!” Izuku almost burst into absurdly relieved tears at the sound of Iida’s voice. His boyfriend swept over, arm settling easily around his back. “Sorry to lose track of you—Todoroki and I found a free table, and we had to clean it off a bit to make it usable.” He turned to Izuku’s former classmates, and his smile turned oddly cold. “Forgive the intrusion.”

“No, that’s… okay…” One of the girls looked faintly shell-shocked at Iida’s sudden appearance.

The boy who hadn’t been introduced to Izuku’s new physique recovered himself quickly enough. “It’s cool, man,” he said with a grin. “We were just catching up with our buddy Deku—we were all pretty good buddies in middle school, right Deku?”

Izuku tensed at the lie, and Iida was close enough to feel it. “Not really,” he said flatly.

“No need to be rude,” his former bully retorted. “You’re not too good for us just because you tricked your way into a fancy school, Deku.”

“I beg to differ.” Todoroki slipped in easily on Izuku’s other side. If Iida was distinctive, then Todoroki was downright unmistakable, and Izuku saw a couple of jaws drop. Forgoing his usual reticence in public, Todoroki pressed close enough to lean on Izuku’s shoulder, close enough for Izuku to feel the reassuring heat of his left side. Ignoring the others with as much dismissive rudeness as possible, he turned to Izuku and Iida. “Can we go now? My food’s getting cold.”

“I was just leaving,” Izuku answered quickly. He gave a curt nod to his former classmates and shifted away before he could say something he’d regret. His boyfriends moved with him, flanking him in almost perfect sync. “Really?” he went on, not caring too much whether his old bullies could hear him. “Your food’s getting cold? Did you get something besides soba this time?”

“It’s getting warm, then, I don’t know.” Todoroki shrugged. His voice dropped in volume. “You looked like you wanted an excuse to leave, that’s all.”

“I sort of did,” Izuku admitted. “…Thanks.”

“No trouble at all,” Iida replied. He paused, clearing his throat. “Midoriya, were they… er. You didn’t get along very well with them. Did you?”

Izuku’s throat closed. Iida’s attempt at tact was endearing, and he really was grateful for it, but it didn’t stop the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach. “Hard to get along with someone who makes you feel like garbage.”

Iida’s arm tightened around him ever so slightly, and Izuku almost regretted the words, before Todoroki reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. Izuku could feel the pad of his thumb running along the outlines of scars.

“You’re worth a hundred of them,” Todoroki said shortly.

“I disagree,” Iida said dryly. “A hundred of any of them would make poor company.” To Midoriya’s surprise, IIda leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “You, Midoriya, are a delight.”

Izuku laughed softly, and the last dregs of unpleasantness finally drained away.

Chapter 3: Day 3: Hurt/Comfort

“Todoroki.”

“I told you, it’s all right if you just call me Shouto.”

“Shouto.” Firm hands grip him by the shoulders. “I am aware that—that there are things between you and Midori—and Izuku, things you’ve shared with him that I am not privy to.”

He draws a sharp breath. “Ii—Tenya—”

“I’m not hurt by it, or jealous. And you don’t owe me anything, Shouto. If you aren’t comfortable with sharing things with me, then I understand. Just know that… that I notice things, and if you ever want to talk… I’m here.”

Silence stretches between them, as he weighs his options and lets the warmth of proximity sink in. He blinks, and realizes that his left hand has risen to his face as if of its own accord, cupping the scar the way he once did in a quiet hallway, standing opposite Izuku back when they were still strangers.

The decision is not a difficult one.

“You… you know what quirk marriages are, right?”

---

Shouto was cold.

Barely an hour before, the sky had opened up, and without a roof, umbrella, or hood over his head, he was drenched. Water seeped into every thread of his clothes, and the cold slipped in even further. The fire in his left side wouldn’t come.

It shouldn’t have been a problem. Todoroki Shouto, of all people, should not have been worried about the cold.

But he was out in the rain and dark, with no roof or umbrella or halfway-decent raincoat between him and the elements, with his left arm tucked gingerly against his side and his right holding his phone to his ear, and he could warm himself with his fire but his fire wouldn’t come.

“Tenya.” His voice cracked on the way out, but instead of hanging up instantly the way part of him wanted to, he held his phone to his ear and prayed that his boyfriend wouldn’t call him on it.

“Hello, Shouto!” Tenya’s voice ringing in his ear was a comfort. “Are you well?”

“He found out.”

The line went deathly quiet. For a few moments, all Shouto could hear was the soft patter of rain all around, as it soaked into cracks in the sidewalk.

“What’s that noise, Shouto?” Tenya asked at last. “I hear something in the background. Are you—is that—?”

“Can I come over?” Shouto asked.

“Of—of course. Where are you? I can come and pick you up, and—”

“I’m outside.” Water ran down his face—just rain, just rain and nothing else. “Can I come in?”

There was no answer; Tenya had already hung up. Moments later, the front door opened, and Shouto trudged up the walkway under the weight of rainwater and more.

Tenya pulled him inside and shut the door. Shouto expected a gentle scolding, a comforting wash of words as his boyfriend chided him for being out in the rain for so long. But aside from a quiet request that Shouto remove his shoes, Tenya was silent. But as he steered Shouto with firm but gentle hands toward his room, Shouto submitted to the treatment and let Tenya direct him.

“Tenya?” Iida Tensei met them right as they were stepping into the hall, leaning forward in his wheelchair with a look of concern on his face. His eyes went from Tenya to Shouto. “Everything all right?”

“I believe Shouto may need to avail us of our shower,” Tenya replied, his voice tight. “I’m sorry for the lack of warning, but—”

“It’s cool, it’s cool.” Tenya’s older brother shot Shouto a quick grin. “If you two need anything, just holler for me or Mom, okay?”

“Of course,” Tenya said with a nod. His arm was around Shouto, heedless of how soaked he was.

“We expecting Midoriya, too?” Tensei called after them, as Tenya practically dragged Shouto down the hall.
“Perhaps later!” Tenya replied, and that was the last Shouto heard from Tensei for the rest of the evening.

“T-Tenya.” His teeth were chattering by the time they reached Tenya’s room. When was the last time that had happened?

“You’re freezing.” Tenya was already undoing the zipper on Shouto’s jacket. “Have you been using your quirk? You need to warm up.”

“I can’t—”

“I understand that you must be troubled, to say the very least, but you mustn’t hold yourself back like this, especially when it’s detrimental to your health, Shouto.”

“Tenya—”

“And I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, this evening alone, but for you to put yourself at risk this way without taking precautions—”

“It won’t come,” Shouto managed to spit out the words when Tenya paused for breath. His boyfriend began peeling his sodden jacket from his shoulders, and Shouto broke off with a hiss of pain.

Tenya went still.

The look on his boyfriend’s face was very close to frightening. “It isn’t serious,” Shouto whispered. Tenya had released him, letting him work the sleeve from his left arm at his own pace. His shirt was just as soaked underneath, and his arms glistened with rainwater. Shouto didn’t resist as Tenya’s hand closed around his wrist and turned it gently, exposing his bare forearm and the reddened, inflamed skin that the jacket had hidden.

The burn was in the shape of a hand.

“It isn’t serious,” Shouto repeated, without looking him in the eye. “It doesn’t even—it’s just first degree, it just needs some ointment and—”

“You need a hot shower,” Tenya told him, still holding his wrist. His voice was quiet. “Will this be all right, if you…?”

“I can protect it,” Shouto assured him. “I can ice it while I—my right side still works. But I…” His right hand was trembling; Tenya’s grasp was the only thing keeping his left still. “I tried. I really did, it wasn’t like before, I didn’t just—it wouldn’t come.”

Tenya’s hand moved from his wrist to his face, cupping his chin, brushing his sodden hair away from his forehead, making him look up until he was meeting Tenya’s eyes. His throat seized at what he saw in them.

Shouto needed little urging to jump into Iida’s shower. He turned the heat up to nearly scalding temperatures, encasing his arm in ice to keep from worsening the burn, and finally the shivers left him and his teeth stopped clacking together in his mouth. When he stepped out, he found a clean towel and a fresh set of clothes waiting for him. As soon as he was decent again, Tenya returned with burn ointment and bandages.

Minutes flew by in a blur, and when time finally returned to normal, Shouto was lying on Tenya’s bed, surrounded by Tenya’s arms, with Tenya’s thumb rubbing little semicircles along the shell of his ear. He was trembling again, but not with cold this time, for all that his left side still wouldn’t respond to his commands.

“We should probably call Izuku,” he said, his voice muffled against Tenya’s shoulder.

“Already did,” Tenya replied. “He’s on his way.”

Shouto’s breath hitched. “He doesn’t have to—”

“You can let him know when he gets here, Shouto. See how far you get.” There was light humor in the words, but not in the tone of Tenya’s voice.

Shouto waited for him to ask the inevitable questions—what happened? What did he say? Why did he burn you?

But Tenya stayed silent, and did no more than hold him and gently run his thumb along the shell of his ear, again and again, until the shaking eased.

“He found out,” Shouto said, a second time. “I don’t know how. He didn’t say.”

Tenya said nothing.

“I left. He tried to stop me. I didn’t think. I just ended up here.” He swallowed thickly. “I don’t think I’m welcome back. I don’t want to go back even if I am.”

Tenya hummed softly. When it became clear that Shouto wasn’t going to say any more, he finally spoke. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The thickness in his throat turned choking. Shouto pressed closer, into Tenya’s inviting warmth, hungry for closeness. The light caresses to his ear continued, keeping him grounded in the here and now, in the softness of the bed and the room and Tenya himself, instead of—

Instead of what he’d left behind.

“Later,” he answered. “I don’t want to think about it for a while.”

His boyfriend hummed again, pressed close enough for Shouto to feel the sound rumble in his chest. He pulled back, but before Shouto could protest or chase the warmth, he felt Tenya press a kiss to his hair—then his forehead, then his cheek, lips trailing down his face until they reached his mouth. Tenya kissed him gently, unhurried and patient, and Shouto did his best to drown the pain and ugliness in warmth.

That was how Izuku found them later. He darted into the room with an armload of DVDs and snacks, comfortably dry but for his damp jeans, and the tips of his bangs where his hood hadn’t covered.

“Your brother let me in,” he announced, as Tenya left off pressing kisses along Shouto’s jaw. The bed bounced as he sat down on it and leaned down to kiss both of them. “I brought Disney movies and junk food.”

“Fantastic,” Tenya said.

“Thought it’d be a good idea.” Izuku’s hand found it’s way to Shouto’s hair, and the latter’s eyes fluttered shut as his boyfriend began to run his fingers through the still-damp strands. “I let my mom know before I headed out, so we might as well make a night of it.”

The Iidas had a perfectly good television with a large screen in the living room, but Shouto had little desire to leave Tenya’s bedroom. Besides, a laptop worked perfectly well, and the bed was twice as soft as the couch would have been. He found himself squashed between his boyfriends, with his head against Tenya’s shoulder and Izuku making himself comfortable in Shouto’s lap. If it bothered Tenya that they were eating in his room, he was apparently too engrossed in the plot of Mulan to say anything about it.

There would be a conversation about this, of course—eventually. There would have to be.

But for now, there were feel-good movies and chocolate bars. There was Tenya, steadying him with an arm around his waist. There was Izuku, making him miss snatches of the movies for the sake of kissing him and being kissed.

Slowly, the barbed-wire tightness around his heart fell away, and the fire in his left side began to answer his call again.

Chapter 4: Day 4: Proximity/Distance

It doesn’t take long for Izuku to set up the laptop. Tenya still takes the time to finish neatening up the kitchen before he goes to join him. They’ve set up a wonderfully cozy space in the living room, and Tenya has been looking forward to this all day; the last thing he wants is leftover chores hanging over his head.

He has two mugs of fresh tea and a spotless kitchen by the time he walks out to the living room. It’s in a similar tidy state, the sole exception being a haphazard but comfortable nest of pillows, cushions, and blankets, arranged with artful disorder on the couch. His boyfriend is making himself comfortable with his laptop set up on the table, careful not to jar the bandages on his leg, or his splinted wrist.

“I’m just about to make the call,” Izuku says, scooting over to make room. The largest blanket in the apartment is currently settled around his shoulders, and he offers one side to Tenya. Tenya seats himself close enough to cuddle up to him, and trades one mug for one half of the blanket. Izuku takes his tea from Tenya’s hands, waits until both of them have gotten comfortable, and hits the button marked “Video Call.”

The soft chiming tones ring out, and Tenya snakes an arm around Izuku’s waist to pull him closer. With a contented hum, Izuku settles against him, letting his injured arm rest comfortably in his lap.

Finally, the call is answered.

The video takes a moment to flicker into view, and Shouto grins wearily at them from his lodgings on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. He looks a bit worse for wear; those eye bags were not there the last time Tenya saw him, nor was the gauze on his forehead or the bruise that now darkens his jaw. His hair and clothes are a bit of a mess, which is understandable, since he likely just got out of bed.

But he’s alive and smiling and still in one piece, and that’s the important part. The knot in Tenya’s heart begins to ease. They are still new, still fresh out of graduation, still finding their way in the world that lies beyond high school. When the opportunity to gain experience overseas had arisen for Shouto, Tenya and Izuku had been nothing but encouraging, but…

Staring at Shouto through a screen, holding Izuku’s warm weight against his side, Tenya feels the distance sharply enough to hurt.

Izuku is the first to break the silence between them. “You look like crap.”

Shouto’s smile turns lopsided. “Feel like crap. What happened to your arm, Izuku?”

“Ah-ah, no.” Izuku shakes his head firmly, grinning impishly. “Don’t distract me. How’s the Stronghold agency treating you?”

“Can’t complain.” Shouto shrugs. “I’ve been here three days and almost no one’s mentioned my father at all. Honestly, it’s refreshing.”

“Thank goodness for small mercies,” Tenya muses. He’s a little taken aback to hear that. The Americans have their own ranked heroes, but Endeavior is still a world-renowned pro; that no one has commented on the presence of his son is a surprise, to say the very least. A pleasant one, to be sure, but a surprise all the same.

“I think my supervisor realized it was a sensitive subject,” Shouto says with a shrug. “So far he was the only one to say anything, and that was only when he’d just met me.”

Izuku leans forward eagerly. “Your supervisor—you’re talking about the hero who leads the Stronghold agency, right? The one who fought Royal Pain when he was only fourteen? What’s he like?”

“Welcoming. Friendly.” Shouto pauses to think for a moment. “What’s the exact opposite of intimidating? He’s that. A formidable hero, though. Apparently his school years were nearly as eventful as ours. We’ve been trading stories.”

“I heard he has a dual quirk, like you,” Izuku actually pulls out of Tenya’s arms to lean toward the camera, one hand on the laptop as if he can reach through and touch Shouto.

Shouto nods. “Strength enhancement from his father, flight from his mother. Though that was a happy accident, in his case.”

The conversation devolves a bit, with Izuku alternating between gushing and gently grilling Shouto for more details about his American hosts. Shouto answers every one of his questions with an air of patient fondness, and Tenya can almost—almost—pretend.

The lull comes eventually, with Izuku’s questions dying down. He’s playing with his wrist splint, thumbing the edge of it while Shouto shifts in his seat. Even with the camera’s limited view, Tenya can see him wincing with pain.

“You’re injured.” It’s painfully obvious, but aside from Izuku’s flippant greeting, no one has mentioned it yet.

Shouto shrugs. “It’s nothing serious. Villains don’t let up just because it’s my first day in a new country. Besides, you two don’t look much better.”

Tenya nods, conceding the point. Besides Izuku’s injuries, his own arm is bandaged where a blade tore through his bicep, and his left eye his swollen nearly shut—black eyes aren’t as easy to deal with when his boyfriend with a half-ice quirk is on the opposite end of the earth.

But he doesn’t mention that. All he says, in the end, is “We miss you.”

“Less than two months,” Shouto says, his voice rough and quiet. “And then I’ll be back.”

“We can’t wait,” Izuku says. He lifts his hand again, and brushes his fingertips against the image of Shouto’s face.

Tenya copies the gesture, and Shouto follows suit. It’s as if they’re all sitting across from each other, separated by only a few feet and an invisible, impenetrable wall. So close, yet impossibly far away.

“I worry about you two.” Shouto speaks so softly that the microphone on his laptop almost doesn’t pick it up.

Izuku laughs. “That’s our line, isn’t it?”

Shouto raises his eyes, looks at each of them in turn. He smiles again, and the look has a rare sort of tenderness to it. “Take care of each other until I get back?”

“Be safe,” Tenya replies.

“We love you,” Izuku adds.

“I love you too.”

Their bed isn’t quite as warm with one third of them gone. Their apartment—their home—isn’t quite as full. All they can do is wait, talk when they can, and pray that two months pass quickly.

Notes:

Low-key tempted to write a full fic about Shouto teaming up with Will Stronghold and Warren Peace to fight bad guys.

Chapter 5: Day 5: Victory/Defeat

“We’re coming!”

“Ingenium, they’re over here!”

“Don’t worry about us, just focus on the civilians—Deku, watch your head!”

“They’re safe! We’re coming to get you!”

“Shouto, look out!”

“Deku!”

“Izuku!”

---

He drags his way back into wakefulness, fingers curling against sterile sheets. His nails rake the fabric, and he forces his eyelids open to keep from slipping back into unconsciousness, into dreams of terror and blood and fresh pain.

The fluorescent lights overhead are gentle but still blinding, and Izuku’s eyes water as he keeps them open. He breathes in, deeply, and the pain he feels is a distant thing, muffled and muted like sound underwater. He can’t even pinpoint where it is, much less how serious. Between the exhaustion, the near-numbness, and the fog in his brain, he may as well be suspended in concrete.

He’s in a hospital, some part of him realizes, though even if that realization were beyond his reach, he’s too tired to panic.

There must not be anything wrong with his head, because memories waste no time coming back. There were villains—a raid on a base—an unexpected hostage situation—he and Shouto had gotten separated from the others, holding off a small army while Tenya led the other heroes in a desperate rescue mission.

Two on dozens is poor odds. Shouto was—

Shouto had—Tenya was—

Shouto. Tenya.

Groggily, Izuku turns his head to the side. His vision melts at the sudden movement, and it’s a moment before it settles again, and he recognizes the hunched, blurry shape at his bedside as a human being.

He waits, breath shallow, until his eyes remember their job and focus. The shape sharpens into broad shoulders and a muscular frame, into cobalt-blue hair in an unusual disarray, and glasses that are dangerously close to falling from their owner’s face.

Tenya’s here. Tenya’s fine. Tenya’s asleep, in an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair pulled as close to the hospital bed as possible. There are bags beneath his eyes, but he looks all right, for the most part. Izuku can’t even see any bandages on him.

That leaves Shouto. Shouto, who was the closest to Izuku when everything went wrong. Right in the thick of it, where the danger was greatest. And now… now Tenya’s here, but Shouto isn’t.

Neither of Tenya’s hands are within reach, but Izuku still stretches his hand out, torn between letting him sleep and waking him up to ask him where Shouto is.

Is Shouto injured too? If he is, then why is Tenya here and not with him? Is he all right? Is he safe? If he is, then where is he now?

Izuku can reach as far as the edge of the bed, and no farther. His fingertips nearly brush Tenya’s knee—nearly, but not quite. He opens his mouth, ready to call to him, but… no. He looks so tired. Let him sleep.

And then the door opens with the faintest creak, and Shouto steps inside as if answering Izuku’s thoughts.

Relief is sudden and cruelly sharp. Izuku draws in a breath, sharp and loud in the silence—and thank goodness it’s loud, because when he tries to speak, his voice won’t come. Even as his vision blurs again, this time with tears instead of weariness, his voice escapes him. But Shouto hears him. His head whips around to look at Izuku, and he closes the distance between them in two steps.

There are hands on his face, cradling, caressing, wiping away tears at they fall, smooth and clean and smelling sharply of sanitizer. Izuku revels in the touch, not quite awake enough to return it, as Shouto buries his face in his hair and breathes.

“Shouto.” It’s only a whisper—his voice is still catching up with the rest of him. Shouto’s hands tremble against his face.

By the time Izuku gathers enough strength in his arms to find Shouto’s waist, Tenya is stirring in the chair. “Izuku?”

“I’m all right.” Finally, his voice scrapes out of his throat. He knows he sounds awful, but he has to say something. He doesn’t like the way Shouto shakes when he holds him. “I’m—I’m all right. Shouto—”

“Give him some space, Shouto,” Tenya says gently. “Don’t crowd him.”

It takes long enough for Shouto to comply that Izuku gets worried. “Are you okay?” His nerveless fingers still curl in the hem of Shouto’s shirt.

“Don’t.” Shouto’s voice cracks. In spite of Tenya’s words, he’s still so close. “You don’t get to—you can’t throw yourself between me and a hail of shrapnel, and turn around and ask me if I’m all right.”

“Oh.” His heart sinks, sour with guilt. Here he is, nursing his own worries, but how must Shouto feel after something like that?” No wonder he’s so reluctant to let go. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember doing that.”

“Let me guess,” Shouto says harshly. “Your body moved on its own.”

Izuku heaves a sigh. His hands drop back to his sides. “Something like that.”

“We aren’t students anymore,” Tenya tells him softly. His broad hand is in Izuku’s hair, finger-combing it gently. “That excuse can’t carry us anymore.”

“Sorry.” His throat feels painfully tight. “I’m all right. I promise.” He gropes about on the covers, until Tenya leaves his hair alone and takes it.

Shouto’s hands are still on his face, one cold, one hot. It’s making him drowsy. “You look exhausted.”

“Did we win?” Izuku asks, clumsily dodging the observation.

“Everyone’s safe,” Tenya replies. Izuku can hear him smile as well as see it. “The villains are in custody. We won, Izuku.”

“Oh.” It shouldn’t be possible to sink any deeper into the mattress beneath him, but Izuku manages it somehow. “Oh, that’s good. I’m glad.”

“You’re exhausted,” Shouto repeats. “You should sleep more, after all the healing you’ve been through.”

Izuku would be reluctant, but it’s hard to fear nightmares when he’s surrounded like this, by warmth and love and gentle touches. “One condition.” His words slur. His eyelids droop as he looks to both of them in turn. “Be here when I wake up?”

Tenya chuckles softly. “Of course, Izuku.”

Shouto doesn’t reply, but leans down again to brush Izuku’s hair out of his face and press a kiss to his forehead. Izuku is asleep before he feels Shouto’s lips leave him.

Chapter 6: Day 6: Work/Play

Izuku is over the moon, and Shouto, for his part, can’t blame him.

It has been a difficult few weeks. Months. It has… it has been a difficult indeterminate period of time. Work hasn’t let up for a second. Some days it’s all they can do just to get a full night’s sleep before duty calls them back in. The hours are long and the work is difficult and perilous, and most night are either spent staying up at the office or unconscious in bed, having fallen asleep the moment their heads hit the pillows.

They’re not in any place to complain, of course. They chose this life, and none of them will ever regret that decision. But that doesn’t mean they don’t feel the strain at times like this.

(“You know what I just realized?” Izuku says to him in the dead of night. “I don’t think the three of us have been in the same room for the past two months. Not once.”)

But eventually, work lets up. Being a pro hero is a job like any other; more to the point, it’s a government job. Even for pro heroes, there are labor laws and policies like vacation time and mandatory leave. And so, thanks to some serious finagling, the three manage to scrape together a free weekend together. Izuku almost cries over the phone with Shouto when it’s confirmed.

“I’m so glad!” Tenya crows, when they finally snatch a moment together in the same physical space. In less than a week, they’ll have their much-needed break. “We really must catch up with housework. It’s been months since we all got together to neaten up, and I know the kitchen especially needs a good cleaning. This weekend will be an excellent opportunity to finally get to those chores we’ve been putting off—”

Izuku reaches up to take Tenya’s face between his hands. From his vantage point to the side of them, Shouto can see the intensity in their boyfriend’s green eyes.

“Tenya,” he says. “I love you very much. But if you actually have us spend two vacation days cleaning house, I’m going to scream. Not right now. Maybe later. Sometime when you’re least expecting it.”

“But—”

“I need romance, Tenya.”

“But—but—” Tenya is fighting a losing battle with Izuku’s eyes. Shouto would know better than to try. “But the kitchen.”

They come to a compromise; on Saturday they’re going on a proper date, and they can clean the kitchen and living room when they get back. It’s not the deep-cleaning that Tenya was probably hoping for, but it’s well within reason.

Over the rest of the week, they snatch what little time together they can. The three of them manage to go out for breakfast together Tuesday morning. Shouto shares a patrol with Tenya on Thursday that almost feels like a prelude to Saturday. On Friday, Tenya falls asleep early on the living room couch, but Shouto pulls Izuku into the bedroom and leaves him sleepy and contented enough to get a good night’s rest for the next day.

And then it’s Saturday, and the three of them throw on their most comfortable everyday clothes and spend the day at the beach. They walk together on the soft sand, feeling the breeze on their faces as they simply revel in one another’s company. It really has been too long, Shouto muses. It’s nice to be able to slip his hand into Izuku’s, to feel Tenya’s strong arm around his waist, to simply exist in the same physical space, without work and responsibility and the weight of the world hanging over their heads. Izuku rests his head on Shouto’s shoulder as they walk, and Shouto finds himself laughing for the first time in weeks.

It is, without any hint of exaggeration, the nicest day Shouto has seen in a while.

It’s half over, and they’ve just finished eating lunch together in full view of the ocean, when a gang of overgrown delinquents decides that Deku, Shouto, and Ingenium’s weekend off is the perfect time to go on a seaside rampage.

Within minutes, the wharf and pier are in utter chaos. For a moment, the three of them can only stare blankly as the ruckus slowly grows into a miniature riot.

“Well,” Tenya sighs. “Technically we’re always on call.” He turns to the other two, eyes grim. “We don’t have our gear with us, so be careful.”

Shouto glances at Izuku, who’s still gaping with mingled horror and outrage. “You know,” he says mildly. “This probably wouldn’t have happened if we’d stayed home and cleaned the kitchen.”

Izuku looks ready to cry or punch something. In the end he chooses the latter, and knocks out a few of the ringleader’s teeth in the process.

---

They don’t get back to the apartment until evening. Villain cleanup takes longer than anticipated, and of course they have to file reports afterward. When they get home, Shouto sneaks a glance at Izuku and finds him looking tired and disgruntled.

“Well!” Tenya brings his hands together sharply. “The night is still young. We can save the kitchen for tomorrow, but I have been wanting to do a bit of dusting in the living room.”

Shouto stares at him for a moment. He knows logically that Tenya cleans and neatens to unwind when he’s weary or stressed. It’s just that it’s a form of self care that neither he nor Izuku share. “We… can do a little bit?” he says, noting the glint in Izuku’s eyes. “We could try for another date tomorrow, as well. Since this one was, um… interrupted.”

Tenya catches Izuku’s eye and sobers. “Ah… right. I’m sorry, Izuku. I know you were especially looking forward to today.”

“It’s not your fault.” Izuku manages a smile. “It’s not like we could have ignored it. And… I guess we might as well get started. The apartment’s been a little neglected lately.”

“It’ll be faster with all of us splitting the work,” Shouto points out.

Luckily, none of them are much for filling the apartment with things; Izuku’s collection of All-Might memorabilia is strategically and frugally spread out, Tenya organizes his things on his own, and Shouto doesn’t have a lot of things in general. Within the hour, the living room is clean and Tenya is already moving on to wiping down the kitchen counter.

It’s… almost fun, really. It’s certainly more relaxing than Shouto had feared. Tenya is fastidious but patient, and Izuku is casually affectionate—leaning over Shouto to reach a spot he’d missed, in such a way that his chest is briefly flush against Shouto’s back, and maneuvering Tenya out of the way with his hands on Tenya’s waist.

If his hands slip a little lower than necessary, well. Shouto can read signs like that.

“Shouto,” Tenya says absently as he checks the counters for any dirt he’s missed. “Could you get more rags from the hall closet? The cabinets could use a polish.”

“Sure,” he says, and catches a quick kiss from Izuku as he leaves the room.

Due to a momentary lapse in judgment on his part, Shouto ends up taking a bit too long to fetch fresh dust rags. He knows he takes too long because he comes back to find Tenya pinned beneath Izuku on the couch, shirt unbuttoned, with Izuku’s open mouth against the side of his neck and Izuku’s hands… elsewhere.

Shouto clears his throat politely.

Tenya’s at the wrong angle to look at him, and clearly too preoccupied with his current situation in any case, but Izuku glances up. He manages to blink at Shouto with bland innocence on his face, even as he does something with his hand that makes Tenya shudder and gasp beneath him.

“We thought we’d take a break,” Izuku says, as if Shouto doesn’t know this was completely his idea. Tenya isn’t usually one to give up on chores without a fight, but Shouto is well aware of how difficult it is to argue effectively with Izuku’s hand down the front of his pants.

But it’s only fair, considering that their last opportunity for fun was interrupted by work. Sometimes one has to take cosmic balancing into one’s own hands.

…As well as a few other things.

“I-Izuku,” Tenya chokes out, before Izuku turns back to him and gives his mouth his full attention.

Shouto rolls his eyes, tosses the rags aside, and shucks his own shirt before he joins them.

Chapter 7: Day 7: Whatever You Want

It happens in the dead of night.

Nightmares are a familiar nuisance for all three of them. Theirs is a life of danger, injuries, near-misses, and near death experiences—every day, whether they’re on the clock or not. It’s inevitable that these things would slip into their dreams. Tonight, it is Izuku who struggles against them. Past incidents, injuries, worries for the future, memories as far back as the dark alleyway in Hosu, all converge in his subconscious, fresh and raw in his mind.

This one is a particularly bad one, slamming Izuku back into consciousness with an abruptness that leaves him gasping and amnesiac. The particulars of the nightmare slip free of his grasp, vanishing from his memory like smoke, but the heart-pounding terror remains. It’s left directionless, without nightmares or memories to absorb it, but Izuku still moves on instinct, groping in the dark until another hand finds his and grips it with reassuring strength.

“Izuku?” He’s woken up Tenya; he can hear the groggy slur in his boyfriend’s voice. Izuku can’t answer, can’t do anything but squeeze Tenya’s hand and gasp for breath as tears spill freely down his face.

And then there are lips on his shoulder, and another arm snaking around his waist as Shouto shifts closer under the blankets. The lips move from his shoulder to his neck, along his hairline until Shouto reaches the sensitive spot behind his ear.

Both of them move close, pressing in from both sides until Izuku is surrounded by them, breathing them in until the gasping turns to slow, shuddering breaths.

“Sorry,” he says, when he can speak again. “Sorry. Sorry about that.”

“No need.” Tenya’s voice is muffled, with his mouth pressed against Izuku’s hair like that. There are hands on him, on his face, on his neck, on his waist, slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to rest warm against his stomach. It’s impossible to tell which hands belong to whom, but it hardly matters; there are four of them, because Tenya and Shouto are with him, and he doesn’t have to wrestle with nightmares alone. Izuku’s breathing evens out, and the fear ebbs.

The panic passes, and flashes of memory return—not the dream in full, just the important parts. The parts that make it a nightmare, that leave him thrashing and crying in the night until his loves can calm him with soft touches and gentle whispers.

“I keep losing you,” he whispers hoarsely. “When I dream, I keep—and it’s my fault. It’s always my fault.” Tears spill over, soaking into his hair faster than Shouto or Iida can kiss them away. “I-it’s always so real. Like—like there’s a world, somewhere, where I’m not fast enough, or I’m not st-strong enough, or—” It’s dark and he’s scared and sleep is so close that he could reach out and touch it if it were solid, and those three things loosen his tongue. “—or I’m quirkless again and… and I’m not enough and I can’t do anything—”

Someone strokes his face—it must be Shouto, for it to be a hand that cool. “It’s all right,” Shouto whispers, breath warm against Izuku’s ear. “It was just a dream.”

“But it could be real,” Izuku rasps. “Not today. But one day. It could be real and if I’m not enough then how… how do I…?”

“It’s we,” Tenya reminds him. “Remember? It’s all right if you can’t always protect us. We can protect ourselves. And you.”

Izuku cries until he has no more tears left. His loves hold him until he’s finished, until he’s still and quiet and breathing slowly again, limp and exhausted in their arms. When he can manage it, he lets himself sink into the feeling. He burrows beneath the blankets, pulls Shouto close and presses into Tenya’s chest until he can shut himself off from the world. They’re pliant around him, accommodating every push and pull and silent request. He finally goes still, and Tenya’s hand finds its way to his hair. Tenya plays with it, running his hand through it, twirling it around his fingers, stroking and caressing until Izuku’s eyelids droop again. Then—

“Izuku?” Shouto’s voice is close to his ear. “What did you mean by that?” His arm is around Izuku’s waist, his chest flush with Izuku’s back.

“Hmm?” Tenya’s ministrations are hypnotic.

“About…” Shouto pauses. “You said something about… being quirkless again? What did you mean by that?”

Perhaps if it were day, if he were wide awake, Izuku would curse his careless mouth. But the world seems different in the middle of the night, and with Tenya in front of him and Shouto behind, he feels shielded and safe. At times like this, some ideas that are unthinkable in empty daylight just don’t seem so frightening anymore.

He shifts between them, until he’s lying on his back once more. The tears on his face have dried.

“I used to be quirkless,” he says to the ceiling. Tenya pauses in stroking his hair, then continues. “I was born quirkless. All my life I wanted to be a hero. I never wanted anything else. And then… then I got my chance.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “I met someone with a quirk they could pass on. A quirk that stockpiles strength with each user. And… he was looking for a successor, when he found me.”

He feels the sharp intake of breath from Shouto, then another just a beat behind from Tenya.

“All-Might,” Tenya whispers.

Izuku nods.

Shouto’s arm tightens around his waist.

“I earned this power,” Izuku continues. “He told me I did, and it’s taken so long—just to convince myself that he meant that, and he was right. And it’s taken so long for me to make it my own, but I’ve done it. But…” His eyes sting and water again. “Sometimes I worry. I second-guess. I-I just… part of me is still fifteen years old and waiting for him to figure out he made the wrong choice.”

He falls silent then. He’s not sure if he’s waiting for a response. He doesn’t even know what kind of response he would want.

And then the bed shifts, and suddenly his view of the ceiling is blocked by Shouto’s face, shadowed and silhouetted in the dark. Before Izuku can speak, Shouto is kissing him. Slow and languid, pressing him down into the pillow, Shouto kisses him until Izuku is gasping again, and then he pulls back and moves aside to give Tenya room.

Tenya doesn’t kiss him, but he does bury his face in Izuku’s hair and breathe deeply as he strokes the side of Izuku’s face with his thumb. It’s so soft, so gently loving that Izuku has to bite back a whimper.

“This… answers a lot of questions I’ve had,” Shouto admits. “And I know it won’t do much, in the long run, to tell you that he wasn’t wrong, and you’ve always been enough. But I’ll say it anyway, even if you can’t always believe it.”

“That’s the nice thing about facts,” Tenya murmurs. “They’re true whether or not you believe them.”

Izuku nods. “I know, but—” Tenya’s thumb moves to his lips, halting further words from him.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he says. “For now, you must try to get some rest, Izuku.” He lies back down again, as close to Izuku as he can manage.

Shouto presses close and tucks his chin into the curve of Izuku’s shoulder. “If you have another nightmare,” he whispers. “We’ll be here when you wake up. Always.”

They hold him, and Izuku reaches back and clings with everything he has, and everything he is.