Every Other Freckle

by RunawayDeviant

Summary:

"Midoriya, I like you. As in, I like you in a romantic way. I mean, I like you as a friend, too! Not just as a romantic interest, because you're a really sweet person, which isn't to say that you're not good looking, because-"
His pillow, despite being faceless, manages to look so underwhelmed that he stops short.
"I just want to kiss him," he groans, shoving his head into the pillow to stop it looking at him.

 

Todoroki likes a boy, and over the course of an evening manages to confess and land himself an offer to join a threesome. Cue the laugh track.

Notes:

Welcome to an adventure in "Runaway tried to write soft TodoDeku and something went wonky".

Title and chapter titles from Every Other Freckle by alt-J.

(Un-beta'd, mistakes are all my own!)

Chapter 1: I Want To Share Your Mouthful

Shouto takes a deep breath, collects his words, and speaks.

"Midoriya, I like you. As in, I like you in a romantic way. I mean, I like you as a friend, too! Not just as a romantic interest, because you're a really sweet person, which isn't to say that you're not good looking, because-"

His pillow, despite being faceless, manages to look so underwhelmed that he stops short.

"I just want to kiss him," he groans, shoving his head into the pillow to stop it looking at him.

Curled up on his futon, head surrounded by his duck feather pillow, Shouto doesn’t think he’s ever felt so pathetic. Bad training day? Could have been worse. Failing the provisional licensing exam? Didn’t count, he just had to do remedial work. Got beat up by a villain during patrol? Sleep it off. Feeling feelings for his dear friend and being unable to articulate them? Not even to a pillow? Set up the gallows, he’s ready to be dead now.

His cosy pyjamas are soft, the room is dim, and the sound of a winter evening filters in through the window. Bakugou is yelling something - from all the way in the kitchen, it sounds like – but from this far away, it’s less grating. Background noise. The sort of yelling that means someone stole some of his cooking and he’s annoyed, not the sort that used to keep Shouto up as a young child.

He rouses himself and leaves his room and his judgemental bedding in order to go investigate.

Someone has, indeed, stolen a little savoury muffin. Bakugou is on a health kick and has been meal prepping for two weeks, much to the despair of his pack of friends, who benefit most regularly from his good cooking – and apparently Kaminari has nabbed a snack.

“Just fucking ask, fuckwit!” Bakugou all but screams, “I coulda made more goddamn food if you asked! Now I’m one short! The fuck am I gonna eat instead, huh?”

Shouto, having sidled around the counter during his ranting, pulls another muffin off the cooling rack and shoves it in his mouth. Bakugou and Kaminari stare, stunned and fearful, respectively.

Bakugou reacts first; “I'LL KILL YOU!”

Shouto shrugs, and chews.

Bakugou mellows almost immediately at the lack of response. It’s amazing the difference nearly two years and the destruction of a villainous league makes to one’s temper. “The fuck happened to you?”

Shouto swallows the last of the muffin. “I’m in love and I’m in pain.”

“Yeah, that'll happen,” Bakugou says sagely.

“How would you know?” Kaminari asks.

“I have an approximate knowledge of many things,” Bakugou replies flatly, “Who’re you in love with, and why is it painful?”

“Midoriya.”

“WHAT.”

“And I can’t do... feelings.”

“Oh, well if you want help from someone who also can’t articulate his feelings, feel free to keep talking to Bakugou,” Kaminari grins, dodging a clawed hand to come around the counter to him, “If you’d like to talk to someone who isn’t emotionally constipated for advice, you should go see Kiri. He knows what’s up.”

“ICY-HOT-"

“Is he in his room?”

“IF YOU GO NEAR THAT SHITCUNT-"

“Yup! C'mon, I’ll walk you up.”

“I'LL DESTROY YOU!!!”

“Thanks for the muffin, Bakugou,” Shouto says.

“DIE.”

---

 

In Kirishima's room, seated on the bed, he is gently quizzed on how deep his feelings for Midoriya are, and how long he has felt thusly.

By the time Bakugou troops in from packing his food away, they have reached a consensus. Shouto is terminal.

“Baku-bro,” Kirishima says as he shuts the door and comes to drop cross-legged on the floor, “Todoroki has it bad, man.”

“Well he better fucking watch it, or I’m gonna explode his goddamn face off,” Bakugou snarls, glaring at Shouto with all his might.

“N’aww, you and Midoriya really do get along now, huh?” Kirishima grins.

“What colour do you want your hearse to be, asshole?”

“Red, duh!”

“Typical.”

“This calls for the Council of Five, I think,” Kaminari says from his perch upon the desk, “I already called the cavalry.”

Shouto blinks as a knock sounds at the door.

“Living in the same building is great, huh?” Kaminari grins.

“Its open!” Kirishima calls that it’s unlocked, and Sero and Ashido file in. They are filled in on the situation, and agree: Shouto is doomed, but he should embrace his demise.

“You should ask him out,” Ashido says with finality, “We'll come with.”

“Wait-"

“THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING?”

“C'mon, Todoroki, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could lose my best friend?”

This brings the group up short, except for Bakugou, who rolls his eyes.

“Deku isn’t gonna stop talking to you over this kinda shit. He’s too nice.”

The blessing of their leader apparently given – “I DIDN'T SAY HE SHOULD FUCKING CONFESS, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU IDIOTS?” - they rise again and escort Shouto down to Midoriya's door.

“We'll go over there,” Kirishima says, pointing down the hall while restraining Bakugou with the other hand, quirk engaged to keep the blond from biting the hand clamped over his mouth. “Do your best!”

Then, being a horrible person, he knocks on the door and bounds down the hall – Bakugou in tow - thus removing Shouto's chance to flee.

He’s still in his pyjamas. Dear god, he's not even wearing socks-

The door opens.

“Todoroki-kun!” Midoriya grins, “What's up?”

Shouto opens his mouth, then closes it again.

“Todoroki-kun?” he asks again, looking worried, “Are you okay?”

His green eyes are huge and expressive, freckles dusting his cheeks and scattered more sparsely around the rest of his face. His too-large All Might sweater shows off more of his collarbone than Shouto thinks is decent. His hair is floppy and looks soft.

Shouto just wants to kiss him.

“I like you,” Shouto blurts, finally, having stared for far too long, “You’re one of the most genuinely good and nice people I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful. I- would you-”

He huffs.

“Would you like to go out for lunch, sometime?”

His gaze has strayed to Midoriya’s feet, and he manages to bring it back up to take in his face.

Which is apologetic, and sad, and Shouto starts rapidly planning ways to get onto UA’s roof to give wingless flight a shot.

“I’m sorry, Todoroki,” he says, gently, like Shouto might shatter is he speaks too loud. “I’m seeing someone.”

“What!?” yells Kaminari, destroying the illusion of privacy.

Midoriya sticks his head out into the hall to stare at them as Sero yells, “Who?”

He rolls his eyes and pulls back into his room. “I really am sorry,” he says again, nibbling at his bottom lip for a moment, before asking, “How do you feel about polyamory?”

“WHAT!?” several voices yell from down the hall.

Shouto blinks.

“Um. As in- as in a relationship with you, knowing that you’re in a relationship with someone else and that they’re okay with it? Or as in a three-way-relationship?”

“It’s called a throuple,” Bakugou calls.

Midoriya sticks his head out again. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it’s dumb. Come on, fuck-knuckles, your job here is done,” he says ushering his squad toward the stairwell, skipping the lifts in favour of leaving the scene faster.

Once the door is firmly shut on Ashido's protests, Shouto turns back to Midoriya, who steps back to invite him into his room.

“Thanks,” he says, going to sit on the desk chair as Midoriya hops onto his bed.

“What I was suggesting was the triad, by the way,” Midoriya says as he settles in, “My boyfriend and I once made a promise that if you ever asked either of us to, uh, you know. We said that we'd be allowed to say yes without consequences. But that was before we were serious.”

“But would he be okay with me joining in now?” Shouto wonders, still reeling and trying very hard to stay cool in the face of the unexpected.

Midoriya shrugs, “We'll have to ask him.”

There's a knock at the door.

“It’s me, idiots,” says Bakugou.

“Come in, Kacchan,” Midoriya calls.

Bakugou stomps in, slamming the door behind him, and comes to loom over Midoriya with great menace. “The fuck are you signing me up for?”

“It was just a suggestion!”

Shouto blinks; “You’re dating Bakugou?”

“Got a problem, Shortcake?” Bakugou growls, though without the usual level of simmering rage.

“This is the boyfriend that agreed to let you... “you know” with me without consequences,” Shouto says to Midoriya, stunned, “Who also said he’d “you know” with me.”

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” Bakugou snorts.

“Sit, Kacchan,” Midoriya mutters, tugging on the hem of Bakugou's shirt to bring him down to the bed by his side, “But yeah. If you want to go out with me, we're sort of a package deal. I think we'd get too jealous, in our own ways, if either of us dated someone else alone.”

Shouto purses his lips. “I... I would have to think about it.”

“That’s fine,” Midoriya says, gentle and kind as ever, “Kacchan and I will have to talk about what it means for us if you decide you want to. We should all take our time in deciding what we want to do.”

“Okay,” Shouto says, swallowing and rising from the chair, “Thank you, Midoriya, Bakugou. I think I'll head back to my room.”

Midoriya let’s him out with a quiet “goodnight" and closes the door on him with Bakugou still inside.

Shouto takes a deep, steadying breath, and turns to the lifts.

Chapter 2: Turn You Inside Out And Lick You Like A Crisp Packet

Notes:

Warning: Light smut. Nothing too graphic in this one. :3

“I’m starting to feel like your dirty little secret, Izuku,” Katsuki says lowly, hips shifting restlessly against the sheets beneath him as he comes down, “Secret rendezvousing and coded texts and crap; it’s some Mr and Mrs Smith bullshit.”

“You’d make a great Angelina Jolie stand-in,” Izuku murmurs, the lingering afterglow keeping him confident enough not to stutter over his declaration.

“All those old bags that drool over Brad Pitt have clearly never seen you naked.”

Aaand, there he is – stuttering, flushed, mortified Izuku returns with a vengeance.

When he’s calmed down from that particular coronary, he curls himself back into Katsuki's side, cheek pressed up against his left pectoral.

“Who in our class would be Leonardo DiCaprio, do you think?”

“Tailguy?”

“Really? I don't see it.”

“Hn. We have a lot of hot people in our class.”

“We have a hot class. And they’re good people too.”

“I’d fuck most of them,” he shrugs, and then his face twists, “Except Mineta. Him I would launch out a goddamn window.”

“I’d help.”

“We strike at dawn.”

Izuku laughs and nuzzles into his neck. “I hope you'll tell me. If- if you do decide to sleep with someone else. I hope you'll tell me beforehand.”

“I’m a good secret fuckbuddy,” Katsuki scoffs, “’Course I’d fucking tell you. I’d expect you to do the same, nerd.”

Izuku hums, happy with this answer.

Katsuki ponders over his classmates, and asks, “If someone came up to you tomorrow and asked to fuck, who would you say yes to, no questions?”

“Oh,” Izuku murmurs, pondering, “... Todoroki, first, and Kirishima in second.”

“Oh good, now I know who to kill.”

“Kacchan!”

“I’d fuck Half n Half too,” Katsuki concedes, rather than apologising, “He has the personality of soggy, out-of-date bread, but I’ve seen him in swim trunks. A+, would bone.”

“Todoroki is husband material, you just don't know him. And Kirishima would be a lot of fun, I think.”

“Kiri would be the sort of shithead to laugh through sex, from foreplay to afterglow. I’d have to fucking strangle him.”

“Maybe he’d be into that?”

“Oh fuck no.”

Izuku laughs, warm breath fanning across Katsuki's skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Hey,” he mutters, “Think Todoroki's dick is half-hot, half-cold?”

Izuku chokes.

“How- how would you even go about asking him that?”

“Wouldn’t. But if he offered, I’d ride him into the fucking sunset - that'd definitely answer the question. Don’t worry, I'd tell you first. You could watch.”

Izuku is hovering above him almost before he can blink. “You’re joking, but the image of me bouncing you up and down on Todoroki-kun's dick is very nice.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki breathes, back arching as Izuku's hands mould to his hips, “I forget how quick you recover.”

“You’re a major turn on,” Izuku murmurs.

“And you’re a surprisingly good top, shitnerd. Wonders never cease.”

“You gonna use those lips for something more productive than back-talk?”

“Give them something to do, we'll fucking see.”

The Saturday sun is setting behind the curtains, bathing them in warm light. Izuku give his lips something to do, and Katsuki shuts up.

---

 

Somewhere between fighting in Ground Beta and finally taking down the League of Villains, Katsuki screams himself hoarse at Izuku – for being reckless, and stupid, and self-sacrificing, and-

Izuku slams him into a kiss against a wall, all teeth and tongue, and zero finesse. A week later they’re rutting in a back alley in Tokyo after a battle with a villain, and two days later, Izuku bends him over his dorm desk and has him for the first time right there over their biology homework.

When they’re not stressing over their imminent deaths, they keep finding new and creative ways to get laid whilst living in a dorm - as a coping mechanism for the stress. When the League kicks the bucket, they celebrate with more sex. They don't stop celebrating for two months. By that point it’s become a regular thing – not scheduled or anything, it just happens when they make a certain type of eye contact, or when one or the other texts any number of random emojis. Or when Izuku pushes Katsuki up against the wall of the shower stall after training one Thursday afternoon and fucks him right there using conditioner for lube, basically in public, with Sero two stalls down.

They don’t admit to feeling mushy crap until they’ve been sneaking around for a few months. The mushy feeling crap had been creeping up on them at odd times – kisses where before there had been growls, and words where before there had been only the sounds of sex – but it takes time for them to admit it. Or, rather, it takes time for Izuku to admit it - and then to drag the matching admission out of Katsuki like pulling a bogged truck out of thick mud.

They still don’t tell anyone. How do you even come out to anyone about something like this? “Yeah, we’ve been fucking for months and now we're dating, all g?", is not conventional romance. The threat of gossip hangs over them, and between shy Izuku and explosive Katsuki, neither of them are the sort to tolerate rumours well. He supposes they'll figure it out in their own time – but god help them if they secretly date their way into a secret marriage or something. That is some rom-com bullshit that Katsuki will not be standing for.

When Todoroki, looking fluffy and a little adorable, announces he's head over heels for Izuku in the fucking kitchen, of all places, Katsuki comes as close to a heart attack as he has since watching Izuku fall off a building unconscious (pretty high on his list of Worst Memories Ever). Kaminari whisks him away for a Kiri Therapy Session – admittedly a decent therapist, Kirishima – and Katsuki keeps packing up his food. When he's done, he texts Izuku. He's Not Happy, but it’s mostly because he's a little jealous.

Bakugonnagetcha: Todoroki likes you. What do?

Midoriyabetcha: !!!???!!?!

Bakugonnagetcha: WORDS SHITTY DEKU

Midoriyabetcha: TWO CUTE BOYS LIKE ME

Midoriyabetcha: IAM HAVUNG PANIC ATTACK

Bakugonnagetcha: ONLY ONE OF THEM IS YOUR BOYFRIEND

Izuku calls immediately. “If Todoroki-kun comes to my room and asks me out, does our old agreement still stand?”

“Sure, that's fine,” Katsuki says mildly, stalking to the lift as he switches to a snarl, “Things are different now, fuckwit.”

“I'll tell him no, then,” Izuku says, unruffled, “I won’t make you uncomfortable that way.”

Katsuki huffs. “I'd want to say yes.”

“Same. We both have eyes. You’re my boyfriend, though.”

Katsuki, with great magnanimity, decides to be kind and not kill Todoroki for his transgression.

---

 

Todoroki ends up being talked into asking Izuku out by four out of five members of the BakuSquad. Katsuki feels inexplicably betrayed, despite that none of his friends know about his relationship.

They don’t even let Todoroki think about this decision, much less protest it – they march him down from Kirishima's room to Izuku's, and Kirishima goes as far as knocking for him before dragging Katsuki out of immediate visual range of the door.

He, in turn, drags them away after Izuku turns Todoroki down, and leaves them at the ground floor with a glare and a warning not to come back up. Kirishima has the grace to apologise, and Katsuki scoffs. “I’m not the one who just confessed to a guy who turned me down.”

“He didn’t, though,” Sero says, “He suggested a threesome!”

“A phrase I never thought I’d hear,” Kaminari said wonderingly, “Midoriya is having a threesome.”

“He totally suggested a throuple,” says Ashido, “Which is much more wholesome and Midoriya-like than a threesome.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and leaves them to it, already guessing that by morning the whole class will know about “Midoriya's Wholesome Threesome".

He knocks on Izuku's door, and announces, “It’s me, idiots.”

“Come in, Kacchan,” Izuku calls.

Katsuki strolls in, throwing the door closed behind him, and comes to stand beside Izuku's cross-legged form on the bed with a grimace. “The fuck are you signing me up for?”

“It was just a suggestion!”

Todoroki pipes up suddenly; “You’re dating Bakugou?”

“Got a problem, Shortcake?” Katsuki says lowly, well aware that he’s the sticking point here.

“This is the boyfriend that agreed to let you... “you know” with me without consequences,” Todoroki says to Midoriya, looking a bit poleaxed, “Who also said he’d “you know” with me.”

“Have you looked in a mirror recently?” Katsuki snorts, eyes picking out the body hidden beneath the fluffy pyjamas.

“Sit, Kacchan,” Izuku mutters, tugging on the hem of his shirt to bring him down to sit beside him, “But yeah. If you want to go out with me, we're sort of a package deal. I think we'd get too jealous, in our own ways, if either of us dated someone else alone.”

Katsuki is about ready to explode a lamp, and there has been no agreement to date anyone. He’d thought, back then, that he wouldn’t have a problem, but it turns out his possessive streak runs deeper than anticipated.

Todoroki’s lips press into a thin line. “I... I would have to think about it.”

“That’s fine,” Izuku says soothingly, “Kacchan and I will have to talk about what it means for us if you decide you want to. We should all take our time in deciding what we want to do.”

“Okay,” Todoroki murmurs, standing from the chair, “Thank you, Midoriya, Bakugou. I think I'll head back to my room.”

Izuku lets him out with a quiet “goodnight", and then turns back to Katsuki.

“He was so cute, did you see the little rabbits on the hem?” he hisses, coming over to straddle Katsuki on the bed.

Katsuki had definitely noticed the rabbits. As Izuku curls around him in a hug, he says, “I'm sorry if he says no because of me.”

Izuku aborts the hug immediately, and leans back to frown down at him, “You have such weird flippy-floppy self-esteem,” he sighs, “Who wouldn’t want you? You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m crazy and regularly burn my own belongings because of temper tantrums,” Katsuki says.

Izuku shakes his head, “You're powerful, and when there are other people around, you’re so careful that you get yourself hurt before using your quirk recklessly.”

“Same to you.”

“That was because I couldn’t control it,” Izuku says, “You’re amazing. Even if Todoroki only agrees to us because of me, he'll realise that you’re twice as amazing as me eventually.”

“Sometimes,” Katsuki says, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, staring at his collarbone instead, “I realise how badly I must have hurt you to make you think that. And I will never be able to apologise enough for that.”

“We're straying dangerously close to “mushy feeling crap" territory,” he chuckles, taking a hand from Katsuki's shoulder to tilt his chin up, “And I know my own worth. I just think you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. And I love you, which only makes me think you’re even better.”

“You still sell yourself short,” Katsuki says.

“I think there’s always room for improvement.”

“You’re perfect.”

“I’m not the number one hero, yet.”

And then Izuku kisses him, to stop then from getting into another argument about which of them will be number one someday. He really does sell himself short.

---

 

Todoroki waits until Tuesday evening to go back to Izuku with his response.

He’s in casual clothes, not his pyjamas this time. Katsuki's a little sad; he liked the rabbits.

“Midoriya, Bakugou,” he says, somehow managing to invoke great gravitas despite how Katsuki can hear how tightly he's gripping his hands behind his back, “Would the both of you like to come out on a date with me, sometime?”

“We'd love to,” Izuku says, and Todoroki's head pops up, looking surprised. His gaze slides to Katsuki, who smirks right back.

“I’m all for it, Shortcake.”

“Kacchan, you can’t call him that if we're dating,” Izuku whines.

“I still call you Deku, don’t I?”

“You call me Izuku when it matters.”

“Shortcake is as close to Shouto as I’m getting without a dick in me.”

“KACCHAN!”

Todoroki turns so red that his scar looks pale by comparison, and Katsuki feels a little bad. Todoroki isn't the type to banter about sex like he is (and like Izuku has grown to be).

“Sorry, Shortcake. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” he says, clearly not okay, “I’ll get used to it.”

“I’ll tone it down.”

“And thus, we have had our first successful negotiation session,” Izuku grins brightly, “Baby steps. Where do we wanna go on our first date?”

That turns out to be a negotiation in and of itself.

They settle on a mall in Tokyo on Saturday, and leave the planning at that, rather than trying to decide on what to do once they're there. They'll figure it out, one way or another.

Chapter 3: Gonna Paw At You Like A Cat Paws At My Woollen Jumper

Notes:

Time for a date, kids!

This chapter contains:
- memories
- Katsuki being irrational in a range of different ways
- an arcade and improbable winnings
- fluff
- smooches

Enjoy!

Monday morning goes fairly high on Izuku's list of Worst Mornings Ever.

Kacchan's friends had made it their mission overnight to inform everybody under the sun that Izuku has a secret boyfriend, and that they’ve been together for months.

They leave out the part about Todoroki and the “threesome", which is nice, but they say something at all, which is less nice.

Uraraka looks so sad that he hadn't told her about his boyfriend that he nearly spills everything. Without Kacchan's permission, though, he can’t; and he tells her as much.

“Why would you date someone who wants to hide, though?” she asks, “I’d want to tell the whole world!”

“We're both pretty private people,” he says awkwardly, “We decided that we'd announce it when we were comfortable. This whole thing with Ashido and everyone outing us was part of why – we didn’t want everyone to make a fuss.”

Uraraka takes it upon herself to go tear into Ashido after that, and at lunch Izuku ends up frantically apologising to Kacchan's friends as they try to sincerely apologise to him in turn.

Tuesday passes as normal, until Todoroki appears at his door once more. This time, it’s to formally invite both he and Kacchan on a date.

It’s weird, to be courted like this. He had kissed Kacchan the first time because he couldn’t help himself – he hadn’t expected anything but more yelling as a result, and potentially an end to their still newly mended friendship. Instead, Kacchan had kissed him back, and had kept on kissing him back. They had hobbled along as friends with benefits for months before Izuku had managed to admit his own feelings aloud.

“I love you,” Izuku says, sitting on a swing at a playground near their childhood homes. They’re both home for the weekend, ostensibly spending time with their families and trying to recall that there is an entire world outside of the dorms of their school. “I know it’s not the done thing to say it, but it’s true. I keep expecting to get mad at you one day and be done with this, but that hasn’t happened. And I don't think it will. I just want to hold onto you - forever, if I can. I don’t want to let you go again.”

Kacchan stares, stunned, from his own swing. Izuku pulls himself up and goes and kneels in the dirt between his knees, and wraps his arms around his waist, his head on his chest.

“I love you, Katsuki.”

He feels more than hears the sharpness of the next breath he takes. He hears the swallow, and feels the arms go around his shoulders, and the nails dig into his scapula.

“You’re such a fucking sap. I put up with your crap for a reason, asshole.”

It’s as close as he gets to saying “I love you, too” for a while. He says sorry for things – for things he does and things he's done – and he says “don’t get hurt” and “don’t lose”, but “I love you” waits until Izuku has been thrown off of a skyscraper after a blow to the head during a battle.

“I love you,” he says when he visits Izuku in the hospital, “So look after yourself, or else what’s the point?”

It’s altogether the most Kacchan phrase ever spoken – if you die, I’ll be mad at you, laced with affection.

Shouto is a very different kettle of fish indeed.

They make it to Saturday with no one the wiser, stealing little moments around training and classes to talk quietly and suss each other out. It’s the most anyone has ever seen Shouto and Katsuki in close proximity, and it doesn’t go unnoticed, but it’s written off as character growth for the both of them. Bakugou, explosive and angry, and Todoroki, reserved and proud, finally making friends outside of their safe spaces.

Shouto is the same as ever, only now there are shy glances and compliments thrown in at intervals. Kacchan starts to exclusively call him Shortcake, which is probably the closest thing to a pet name he has for him. Shouto attempts to compliment him exactly once and nearly ends up with a broken leg, and Izuku warns him off that entire course of action.

“Kacchan can’t take compliments a lot of the time,” he explains, walking with Shouto to the dorms after classes are over, “He goes nuclear. When we were little, all he ever got was praise, but now he can’t handle it. All his talk is just bluster – his self esteem is super hot and cold. And he thinks highly of you, in particular – you’re strong and you’re only getting stronger, and he admires that. He hates it when people that he thinks well of compliment him. He nearly punched All Might in the jaw one time.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?” Shouto wonders quietly.

“I think he hates himself, sometimes,” Izuku says, face falling as he remembers, “As he grows, he realises all the hurt he caused just by accepting the word of others as gospel and running with it.”

“To you in particular,” Shouto says.

Izuku nods, “I always forgave him. He was always my friend, in my head and in my heart. Always Kacchan. He didn’t understand that until he stopped trying to push me away, and I think he hates that he can’t get that time back. I don’t want him to hate himself for his mistakes, but it’s hard when I’m the only person to tell him that it’s all forgiven, you know? It’s just my word against all his demons.”

Shouto is silent, and then says, “I don’t know how you could ever forgive so much hurt.”

“He's always been good, underneath. All it took was good friends, like Kirishima, to grind off some of the muck.”

Shouto shakes his head. “If I were you, I could never forgive him.”

“If I were you,” Izuku says quietly, “I would have gone to the police or the press a long time ago.”

Shouto huffs, a tiny laugh; “One day I might.”

---

 

Izuku wakes up and goes running every morning without fail (unless he's been hospitalised and, even then, he's been known to sneak out to train). Saturday is no different; he wakes up, gets dressed, and throws himself out into the cold without so much as a yawn.

Kacchan wakes up later and refuses to train in the morning unless it’s part of a class. For someone so determined to be the best, he’s very stubborn about his exercise habits.

Shouto does not open his eyes before nine o'clock on days they’re not at school, and will ice anyone who so much as knocks on his door that early in the morning.

So, Izuku runs alone. When he gets back, he'll grab Shouto and make a break for it. Kacchan has agreed to meet them at the station, and Izuku thinks it's rude to make Shouto walk alone to their first date, so he's escorting him.

Admittedly, it’s much easier to sneak out of their dorm when only he and Kacchan are covertly dating, but Shouto is very worth it, in a myriad of different ways - and Izuku hadn’t been lying when he’d called him husband material.

Kacchan grumbles these things to himself the whole week, like a mantra, to convince himself to go through with the date. He’s torn between jealousy and self-doubt, and Izuku has spent a fair portion of their alone time since agreeing to go out comforting Kacchan’s prickly nerves.

Izuku returns from his run sweaty and smiling, and sprints to his room for a quick shower. Shouto knocks while he's vigorously towelling his hair into something more resembling a bird's nest than a wet mop, and Izuku grins and lets him in.

“Hi, just gotta get my coat and stuff on!” he chirps as Shouto hovers just inside the door.

“Bakugou is meeting us there, right?” he asks.

“He’s meeting us at the station on this side, yeah,” Izuku nods, pulling on a sweater, and then sliding on a short coat atop that. “Fair warning; he hates the cold. A lot.”

“I could tell from the way he approaches walking from the dorms to the school building.”

“Like he’s going to war in the Russian Alps in midwinter? Yeah, he’s like that.”

The walk to the station is uneventful. Uraraka eyes them suspiciously, and Izuku grins brightly as he ushers Shouto out the door.

There will be Rumours by day’s end, but at this point it’s inevitable. He just wants at least one day to the three of them before they end up being the latest gossip piece on 1-A’s group chat.

Kacchan is a fort of wool and cotton waiting for them at the station, and they wait for the train with somewhat stilted chatter between them.

“I don’t do fucking small talk,” Kacchan eventually snaps when Izuku prods him with the weather forecast, “You know that, shitnerd.”

“I do, but Shouto doesn’t,” he says calmly, “I can’t tell him everything about you, you have to talk too.”

“I didn’t have to tell you this shit.”

“We’ve known each other all our lives, Kacchan,” he grins, “I know most things about you. Shouto knows you have beautiful eyes and a temper.”

“Midoriya,” Shouto groans.

“I can’t be your go-between. He keeps trying to talk to you, so you should respond to him.”

Kacchan grunts and flattens Izuku's hair with his hand to make eye contact with Shouto over him. Izuku can’t help giggling as he grinds out, “I don’t do small talk.”

“Twenty questions?” Shouto suggests.

“What do you want to know?”

“How insulated is your winter costume? You really hate the cold, but you heat up during exercise, so is it really warm and you overheat during training, or is it normal material and you freeze at rest?”

“That’s at least two questions.”

“So I have eighteen left,” he says, a teeny smile quirking one side of his lips.

Izuku feels the hand in his hair twitch, and grins again. Kacchan is a sucker for cute things, much as it pains him, and Shouto's rare smiles are adorable.

The game of twenty questions lasts them the short wait for the train and the twenty minutes into Tokyo – Kacchan swears maybe a little more than usual, but he answers honestly at least. Shouto apparently has plenty to ask, and Izuku sits quietly and only interjects when Kacchan looks like he might start clamming up defensively.

Izuku drags them to his favourite merch store first – people rarely want to indulge his obsession after a long day in a mall, so he prefers to get it done first. From there, new collectible in hand, it’s off to the arcade.

“I’ve never been to an arcade before,” Shouto admits, much to both Izuku and Kacchan's horror.

“We'll educate you,” Kacchan promises, “No prospective boyfriend of mine is gonna have anything less than a top ten score on at least one of those machines.”

Shouto pinks up adorably – how Izuku had ever thought this boy was scary leaves him reeling for a moment – and he shoulder bumps him with a grin; “He's offering to educate you about his hobbies. In case you were wondering, this is how the wild Bakugou demonstrates his approval of a suitor.”

“The wild Bakugou's gonna kick your ass if you keep talking about him like that,” Kacchan growls.

“The wild Midoriya will put you through a wall.”

“You’ll break a leg, don’t fucking lie.”

“Yeah, it’ll be one of your legs.”

“You’re both insane. Is it too late to back out of this date?” Shouto asks, though he's smiling again.

“Yes,” they answer together.

Shouto really doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing once they’re inside, dazzled by the lights and loud noises of the space, so Izuku and Kacchan lead him around the arcade poking him into trying basically everything. Izuku retains his DDR high score, Kacchan slays the shooter section, and it turns out that Shouto has magic hands, because he wins several plushies and a Nintendo Switch in the claw machines.

“Cool, we can swap friend codes,” Kacchan says, “And I can kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

“I’ve never played that either.”

“We're going home right the fuck now to fix that,” Kacchan mutters, and Izuku laughs and grabs his sleeve to drag him in the opposite direction of the centre doors.

“We have to go to the game store to actually buy Shoucchan a couple of games.”

“Shoucchan?” Shouto asks, and Izuku blushes, because oops.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“Oh my god, you’re giving me cavities,” Kacchan growls, marching away towards the game store.

“He likes it,” Izuku quietly mutters to Shouto as they follow after, “He likes cute things, he just doesn’t like admitting it. He wouldn’t shut up about your bunny pyjamas.”

Shouto groans, “Momo made those for me as a joke. They’re comfortable, so I wear them.”

“Keep wearing them. Get more made. They’re seriously great.”

“She made them when I told her I liked you,” he admits.

“Oh,” Izuku murmurs, feeling a blush steal across his cheeks.

“The hell are you two whispering about?” Kacchan snaps, turning on his heel to yell more effectively at them, “Hurry the fuck up! I wanna go home and set this thing up!”

They pick up their pace. Izuku taps the back of Shouto's hand, and smiles when he looks over. “Can I hold your hand?”

They’re both very pink once their hands are linked. Kacchan eyes their joined hands with a pout when they catch up, and Izuku grabs his hand too.

“Anyone could be here,” he mutters, though he doesn’t shake him off.

“The whole class knows I’m dating someone,” Izuku shrugs.

“I hate gossip.”

“We'll survive whatever they dish up.”

None of them let go until they’re staring at game cases.

There’s a short argument about which ones are best, which is effectively ended by Shouto buying every Switch game available.

“It’s my father's money,” he shrugs.

Izuku laughs awkwardly, “Yeah, I feel that way when I get money from my dad too.”

“Is this the daddy issue portion of the date?” Kacchan grumbles, “If so, I’m gonna go get lunch.”

“We'll just follow,” Shouto says, though he doesn’t take his concerned gaze off of Izuku, “I’m hungry anyway.”

“Lunch time!” Izuku grins, grabbing up one of Shouto's bags and leading the way to the door, “This is my indulgence day; I’m gonna get so much ice-cream for dessert.”

They make their way to the food court, now weighed down with bags of merch, prizes, and games. Izuku hopes the train home isn’t too full, or else they’ll be annoying a lot of people.

They eat their respective meals, and Izuku convinces Kacchan that they should walk around more before heading back to UA. It gives them the chance to talk to each other, to browse and make fun of things in windows and learn more about each other that way. Kacchan buys Izuku (yet another) All Might themed pen, Izuku makes eyes at a hero-themed bed spread (which he feels he shows great self-control by not buying), and Shouto reveals that he has a small hoard of gachapon capsule toys (which is adorable, and makes Kacchan twitch). He adds a salmon nigiri and a tiny white fox to this collection, and offers Kacchan an apple hat for his cat, which is accepted with a somewhat evil grin.

"Poor Hiro-chan won't know what hit him," Izuku laughs as Katsuki pockets the capsule.

"You named your cat Hiro?" Shouto asks, smiling, “Is it because it sounds like “hero”?

Kacchan stares at that little quirk of lips in lieu of replying, and then abruptly says, "Stop being so damn cute. It's fucking distracting."

The smile becomes a smirk; "Maybe that's my plan."

Kacchan snorts. "Oh, fuck off, you're as pure as the driven snow."

"That's what you thought about me, too," Izuku points out demurely.

"You're a goddamn lunatic, and no one would have expected that," Kacchan says.

"Anyone with eyes and ears knows he's crazy," Shouto says, "There's a pool on whether or not he's as masochistic in private as he is in public, though I don't know how they'd ever find out to settle the bet."

"There's a pool?" Izuku asks, horrified.

"How do you even know this?" Kacchan mutters, "Why didn't I know this?"

"Probably because no one wants to risk your temper," Shouto says, "You went from violently destroying things when Midoriya was mentioned to violently defending him in the course of a month, but the violence stayed constant. And I know because Jirou told Momo, and Momo tells me everything I never want to know about classroom gossip."

"That's right," Izuku realises, "You two knew each other before UA, right?"

"Distantly," Shouto shrugs, "We're much closer now than we were before starting at UA. We're both from distinguished hero families - Iida too - so we were all aware that we'd probably go to school together."

"Rich kids club," Kacchan mutters.

"You're one to talk," Izuku huffs, "Your parents live in the suburbs because they like it, not because they have to." At Shouto's inquiring look, Izuku elaborates; "Auntie Mitsuki is a model, and Uncle Masaru works on sets in the fashion industry. They're both really successful, and plenty well-off."

"And what about your parents, Midoriya?"

"You can call me my name, you know?"

"… Okay."

Izuku smiles. "My mum is a nurse - she used to take night shifts so she can be home during the day, but now that I live in the dorms, she actually works normal human hours. My dad is a businessman. I don’t really know what he does, just that he works overseas. He left a long time ago, so the only way we know he's even alive is because we get money from him."

"Oh," Shouto says quietly.

"His dad's a dick," Kacchan snorts, "Auntie could do way better."

"Did I ever tell you that All Might once asked me if my mum was single?" Izuku asks, grinning.

"HE WHAT?"

"I KNOW!"

"You could've really been his son," Shouto says wonderingly.

"DID YOU TELL HIM YES?"

"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY!"

"YOU FUCKING MORON!"

After Kacchan is finished berating him for missing out on the opportunity to have All Might as his dad, he huffs and starts once more for the exit. This time, Izuku can tell there won’t be any stopping him, and he shrugs and follows.

“Together or separately?” he asks, Shouto’s sleeve between his fingers to tow him along.

“Together,” Kacchan says resolutely as they step out into winter sunlight. He takes a breath of cold air, and then turns to stare down Shouto. “I wasn’t sure about this. Izuku is mine, and when we were just fucking around, I joked that I’d be okay with sharing him with you. I didn’t think that would carry over now that we're dating, but if you’re up for it, I’d be okay with really doing this with you.”

Shouto meets his gaze unflinchingly, and nods at the roundabout offer; “I- have had a crush on Midoriya- on Izuku for a while. I learned a lot about you today, and over the past week – about both of you. I think I could like you too, Bakugou.”

“Judging by that conversation in the kitchen, it’s more than a crush,” Kacchan snorts, continuing before Izuku can berate him, “Same to you, though.”

“Romance is dead,” Izuku sighs.

“This is romantic as fuck, shitnerd,” Kacchan rolls his eyes, “Me and Shortcake both agreeing to try each other out so we can both have you, and you can have the both of us? That’s a declaration of love like nobody else is ever gonna give you.”

Izuku stares up at him, blown away. Shouto clears his throat but doesn’t say anything to negate it. Izuku has no words for this, so he pulls Kacchan down for a kiss – in the middle of a public, open air space for the first time – and doesn't let him go until his lips are red enough that anyone who looks will know what he’s been up to.

Then he turns to Shouto, who is looking everywhere but at them. “Can I kiss you, Shouto?” he asks, “Nothing crazy, just a normal kiss. You deserve one, for letting us drag you around today.”

“I had a good time,” Shouto says automatically, then, “Yes. You can.”

It’s just a press of lips, dry and cold from the air around them, but it sets butterflies off in Izuku's stomach. He’s kissing someone new, Kacchan right behind him, and it’s surprisingly exciting. He had thought that it would be the same, that all the times he'd been kiss-drunk on Kacchan’s lips would have made him immune to this feeling, but it hasn’t. He pulls away with a smile, and takes both of their hands as he leads the way back to the station.

Chapter 4: I'm Gonna Kiss You Like The Sun Browns You

Notes:

Warning: Smut.

This is the chapter that warrants the Explicit rating, folks. From the second cut until the end, if you're not into that noise.

Shouto's lips tingle the whole way back to campus.

He has spent probably too much time lately wondering what it would be like to kiss Midoriya, but he has never stopped to wonder what it would be like if Midoriya kissed him.

If Izuku kissed him first.

He hadn’t stopped to consider that maybe Izuku already had experience in the matter. He had envisioned blushing and stuttering, and a lot more nerves on both ends. But this is an arena that Izuku is clearly confident in, and he can more than pick up Shouto's apparent slack.

His masterful handling of Bakugou demonstrates that beautifully.

And now Shouto wants Izuku to kiss him like that.

He’s jealous, a little. Bakugou's kiss had been open-mouthed and well-practised. “Hot” is an accurate descriptor.

Shouto wonders if kissing Bakugou feels different.

He’s stuck on this train of thought until they walk through the front doors of the dorm, to find around half their class sprawled on the common room couches and across the floor.

“Intervention!” Uraraka shouts, jumping up and pointing squarely at Izuku, who squeaks.

Bakugou rolls his eyes and shoulders past him, “I’m getting my Switch, assholes. Prepare yourselves.”

Kirishima stares after him, open-mouthed.

“Deku, I can’t believe you thought you had to hide your relationship with Todoroki-kun from us!” Uraraka says, earnest and sad-looking. The BakuSquad remain resolutely silent as several people agree, though Kaminari is only being kept quiet by the strip of tape across his mouth, and his shoulders are visibly shaking with laughter.

“Uh, well, you know,” Izuku says, laughing awkwardly and rubbing the back of his head, “We're really private people, I told you already. And without permission, I’m not going to talk about it. It’s not just me in this, you know?”

Uraraka just looks sadder; “Todoroki-kun, did you really not feel like you could trust us?”

Todoroki follows Izuku's lead, and makes his excuses vague; “My apologies, Uraraka. I’m not very good at dealing with gossip, so I kept things to myself for longer than I should have.”

Kaminari has fallen sideways into Kirishima, who is still glancing periodically up the hall, clearly having put one and two together to make three.

Bakugou reappears while the rest of their class offers congratulations and declarations of support, and throws a set of spare controllers at Izuku. “Gimme the Switch, Shortcake, it’s time to educate you.”

“You bought a Switch?” Satou asks.

“I won it in a claw machine,” Shouto corrects.

“He’s really good at them! That whole bag is claw machine plushies!” Izuku grins, and Shouto offers the bag to his classmates to pick through.

No one asks why Bakugou had walked in with them. Shouto isn’t sure why this is, but figures it’s the result of his temper. How ludicrous is it, after all, to think that Bakugou is the one in the secret relationship with “shitty Deku”.

It turns out, once the console is set up, that the other sort of game Shouto is good at it racing. Bakugou destroys a blue controller and shrieks bloody murder when he comes second for the third time in a row.

The next day, their whole class watches Shouto and Izuku like hawks, waiting for any sign of affection or something – anything – to exclaim over.

Shouto thinks his boyfriends are very clever, to have avoided this mess of gossip and rumour for so long. Being stared at by seventeen ravenous wolves isn’t exactly romantic.

Bakugou agrees, and it’s plain to see it from the way he smirks over at their table during lunch that he’s quite enjoying not being the centre of the class’ attention.

Shouto leans over and presses a quick kiss to Izuku's temple, just because he can, and Bakugou's smirk becomes narrowed eyes and pursed lips. Izuku goes red, Uraraka squeals, and Shouto smirks.

---

 

Shouto gets to kiss Izuku a lot.

They’re chaste, and normally too quick for Shouto’s liking, but they happen frequently. They’re kisses practically on tap, but he treasures every single one fiercely.

Even though Katsuki has given him permission to call him by his name (in private, at least), he doesn’t get to kiss him yet, which he dislikes even more than the brevity of his Izuku kisses.

But the blond doesn’t shy from touches, giving or taking. He leans into Shouto when they stand together, at the back of the class, and once or twice he brushes a hand over the small of his back to guide him in a direction. When Shouto runs a hand over his forearm his face softens, and when the class has a movie night and Shouto discreetly holds his hand, he grips back without hesitation.

They go out the next weekend, and the weekend after, despite the colder and colder weather and Katsuki's hatred of any outdoor activity when it's below twenty degrees Celsius outside.

Izuku drags them to the new All Might biopic, and they all jam into a love seat. He sits in the middle and murmurs through the whole thing, but he’s so charmingly enthusiastic that Shouto can’t bring himself to complain. He learns more from Izuku and Katsuki's quiet discussions over key points of the film than he does from the movie itself.

He also learns that, for all his apparent punk-rock persona, Katsuki is as big a hero nerd as Izuku. He just doesn't advertise it.

“I’m not a fucking nerd,” he denies vehemently as they leave the theatre.

He absolutely is, and Shouto wants to kiss him anyway.

He expects that Katsuki will make the first move on that front, though, and says nothing. Every time the urge arises, he quiets it and tells himself to be patient. And he kisses Izuku to tide himself over.

They all go on dates, and visit each other in their rooms, and do their homework together, and Katsuki makes enough leftover food for them to share.

Shouto had thought that dating was supposed to be whirlwind romance or dramatic mayhem, but he adores the easy domesticity that the three of them settle into.

Even if, a month after they start going out, the class still thinks it’s only he and Izuku.

Katsuki still smirks, outside of the spotlight and happy to stay there.

Shouto sincerely wants a camera to be present when the truth comes out.

---

 

Shouto knocks on Katsuki's door twice, as is his habit. “It’s me,” he says, just in case.

It's Izuku who answers, flushed and red-lipped. Shouto’s breath stutters in his throat as he smiles bashfully up at him; “Sorry, we were just fooling around. We can stop.”

Shouto is fairly certain the noise that Katsuki makes from the bed is a whine, though it’s hard to tell from beneath the hands covering his face.

“You don’t... have to stop,” Shouto says, stepping in and letting Izuku close the door behind them. The only light in the room is from a single small lamp on the desk. It’s not particularly bright, but even from the door Shouto can see that Katsuki is a bit of a mess. His t-shirt is halfway up his torso, and his sweatpants are visibly tented. Beneath his hands, his face is flushed, the red dipping all the way down his neck and under his collar.

It’s quite the sight. Shouto makes every effort to imprint it on his memory.

“Shouto,” Izuku says, coming to his side. Shouto tears his eyes away from Katsuki's prone form, and Izuku continues, “Can I kiss you?”

Shouto inhales, and unconsciously licks his lips. “... Yes,” he says after a second.

Izuku reaches up and gently takes the sides of his face in his hands, guiding him down as he reaches up. He’s grown since they first met, but so has Shouto – he’s still notably taller than Izuku. His lips are dry, but the near-immediate press of tongue is not. Shouto lets him in, and his arms come up to grip at Izuku's shoulders as they kiss. Shouto's entire world narrows down to the new sensation of wet tongues and wet lips sliding over each other, sensually rhythmic and smooth. One of Izuku's hands drifts down to rest against his chest, kneading almost like a cat against his pectoral. Shouto resists the urge to hum.

Izuku pulls away first, and asks, “Okay?”

Shouto nods, and glances over at Katsuki, who is watching avidly, hands no longer covering his face and fingers gripping convulsively at his own sides.

“Come here?” he says. The words are phrased like an order, but it’s definitely a request.

Izuku tilts his head, the same question in his eyes, and Shouto nods. Izuku gently takes his hand and leads him to the bed. The default dorm beds are king singles, which is a blessing in that it’s far larger than a single, but it’s still small for three. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

Shouto arranges himself to sit on his calves beside Katsuki's prone form, Izuku beside him by Katsuki's knees. The blond eyes the both of them, a little unsure but not backing down.

Shouto wants to kiss him and, after a month of dancing around it, it’s in this moment that he’s finally confident enough to ask.

“Yes,” Katsuki hisses, tilting his head to accommodate Shouto's angle as he leans forward on his knees to take his chin in hand.

Compared to Izuku's take-charge approach to kissing, Katsuki is pliant and agreeable under him. It’s surprising enough that he pulls away to look at the wine red eyes, darkened with want but still visibly Katsuki.

“Sorry,” Izuku says, running a gentle hand up his back, “I’ve been working on him for a while. If you want a bitey, painful Katsuki, you need to start from scratch.”

Katsuki's face sharpens, “If no one touches me soon, the teeth will be making a reappearance. And not in a nice way.”

“Hm,” Izuku says with utterly false thoughtfulness, “Should we give him what he wants?” He shuffles around and throws a knee over Katsuki's hips but doesn’t lower himself to make contact where it's clear that Katsuki wants it – merely kneels above him. When Shouto looks back down, Katsuki's eyes have glazed again, watching for Shouto's reply.

He wants this to continue, wants to kiss Katsuki as he writhes under Izuku, but he realises, with a rush of heat, that he is in charge of this encounter. Izuku is deferring to him to ensure his comfort with proceedings, and Katsuki is awaiting his permission to continue. He is both respected and in charge, in different ways, and it makes him shiver.

“What if I say no?” he asks, voice at a lower register than expected.

Katsuki's lips part, eyes faintly pleading. He wants, clearly – desperately – for Shouto to say yes, but he hasn’t been brought to begging yet. And Shouto wants, suddenly, to see that. To see Bakugou Katsuki begging and pleading for them to touch, to take.

“Then we won't touch him,” Izuku says, and Shouto is certain that Izuku sees right through him.

He swallows thickly, and says, “I want to kiss you. While you-“

“While I grind down on his cock?” Izuku says, as much clarification as dirty talk.

“Yes,” Shouto breathes.

“Come here, Shouto.”

He goes.

Izuku drops smoothly onto Katsuki's lap and starts rolling his hips as soon as their lips meet. They’re near silent, but they’re practised at this – they live in a dorm, and he knows Izuku grew up in an apartment building. They’ve always had neighbours close by, unlike Shouto in his lonely compound.

Izuku pats at his sides lightly, and Shouto nods. Strong hands are pressed to his waist, and Shouto's own hands end up in Izuku’s hair. Katsuki doesn't make a sound, and when Shouto pulls away for a moment to check on him, he finds that he is watching avidly, eyes half-lidded, enjoying the show as Izuku writhes atop him.

When Izuku pulls lightly at the hem of Shouto's shirt, he does the brave thing and leans away to pull the whole thing off.

Izuku laughs, looking delighted. “I was just going to touch your skin; you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Shouto says, moving closer again.

“Shouto,” Katsuki rumbles, and when he has their attention says, “Can I touch?”

His hand hovers lower than Izuku's has yet strayed.

“I wanna,” Katsuki says, halfway to the pleading that Shouto had envisioned, “You can say no.”

“I say yes,” he replies, and notes that Katsuki looks to Izuku for a nod before gripping Shouto through his trousers. The full body shudder he experiences is like a miniature earthquake, and he bucks unconsciously into the feeling of someone else’s hand on his dick, of pressure he has no control over moving over him.

“How are you feeling, Shouto?” Izuku asks, rising up off of Katsuki to come kneel behind him, giving Shouto some much-needed support in staying upright, “We were thinking of you, you know? I was going to make him suck me off imagining it was your cock. Would you be up to letting him do it for real? To you?”

Shouto shudders again. He can feel Izuku's hard-on against his backside, which only makes him shiver harder. “Please.”

Izuku hums, low and almost dangerous, and the sound goes straight to Shouto’s groin. “You’re both being so good for me,” he praises, “Katsuki, do you want to unwrap Shouto? You waited so well.”

Katsuki looks now to Shouto for confirmation, and gets enthusiastic nodding in response. There’s a smirk – normal Katsuki making a momentary appearance – but it’s quickly gone again, and he’s twisting onto his hands and knees to unzip Shouto’s jeans and pull his dick out of his underwear.

The first moment of being slid into wet heat coincides with Izuku's palms sliding over his ribs and up to his chest, and he very nearly gives it up then.

“Oh god,” he chokes, shoving the hand that hasn’t gone back to clutch at Izuku's hair in between his teeth. Katsuki's right hand is on the base of his dick, stroking a slow counterpoint to the movements of his lips and tongue, and his left hand feels like it’s burning a handprint into Shouto's hip. He hopes faintly that it’s just his imagination, and not a real brand.

Izuku presses wet kisses into his neck as his hands roam, scratching at skin and teasing nipples, and Shouto turns his head in the hopes of catching his lips again. Izuku obliges, and it’s like a circuit has completed. His lips tingle in tandem with his gut, and he rides the feeling for as long as he can, before pulling away.

“I-" is all he can manage.

“Yes,” Izuku groans, and his right hand snaps out to grab Katsuki's head and yank it onto Shouto's dick. He chokes, and it sends Shouto crashing over the edge into orgasm.

He’s pretty sure he passes out, because when he comes to, Izuku is moulded to his back, propping him up and running hands over his sides and chest, and Katsuki has risen somewhat and is resting his cheek on Shouto’s sternum, his hands kneading at his hips.

“I think,” he says, “I died. And came back.”

“Good,” Katsuki says. His hips are flexing against air – there’s still been no relief for him.

“Will you be okay if we finish up?” Izuku asks in his ear.

“Yeah,” Shouto says, “Don’t need to stop on account of me.”

Izuku presses a kiss to his jaw, and gently lowers him to the pillow. Katsuki is arranged more roughly, manhandled into lying next to Shouto, pants dragged down and dick pulled out without so much as a “by your leave”. And then Izuku takes both of them in hand and starts rapidly stroking with practised ease.

His hands are so big. Shouto stares at the spectacle of foreskin and cockheads, and then makes himself look away before he can laugh – orgasms apparently make him giggly. Instead, he shuffles over and tilts Katsuki's face away from his avid lock on Izuku's (admittedly very attractive) face to kiss him.

Katsuki whines into his mouth, hips stuttering and then picking up pace. Apparently Shouto isn’t the only one who likes to kiss while getting his dick handled. The two of them come over Katsuki's shirt, one after the other, and Izuku wipes what ends up on his hands onto the shirt with the rest. Shouto thinks it’s terribly messy, until Katsuki manages to pull himself enough out of his haze to remove the shirt. Not a drop of cum has ended up on his skin, so when he throws the shirt away into his hamper and starts pulling the rest of his clothes off, it’s only sweat making him a little tacky.

“Do you want go stay?” Izuku asks, removing his own shirt without shame, “I was going to sleep here tonight.”

“Will we fit?” Shouto wonders quietly.

“If we spoon, definitely.”

“I’ll stay, then. I want to stay with you both.”

“We want you to stay,” Katsuki says, having already burrowed under the covers, just his hair and eyes poking out, “Get naked and get in here.”

“So demanding,” Izuku huffs, “I can get some pyjamas, if you like?”

Shouto shakes his head and stands gingerly to kick his jeans the rest of the way off; “I’m not modest.”

“You have nothing to be modest about,” Katsuki says, eyes roving over him as he peels off his socks.

Katsuki is middle spoon, as he loves the heat. Izuku is big spoon despite being the shortest, nearest to the wall, and Shouto is little spoon, at the outside edge of the bed.

“Theory confirmed, Izuku,” Katsuki mutters as he drifts off.

“Next time you can go riding,” Izuku slurs sleepily.

Shouto smiles into the pillow at their nonsensical babbling, and sleeps.

Chapter 5: I Want Every Other Freckle

Katsuki comes half-awake when Izuku stirs and snuffles at his hairline, his breathing kicking into its conscious rhythm.

He hears the quiet hum of satisfaction as his arm reaches over Katsuki's waist to find Shouto still at his front. He feels the gentle kiss at his nape, and grumbles when Deku starts shimmying out of the sheets.

He gets a kiss on the temple for his troubles. “Going running, princess. See you at breakfast.”

Katsuki grumbles again, but can’t complain too much; at least now he still has Shouto to curl up against when Izuku abandons him in favour of early morning cardio. After a little bit of pawing, he manoeuvres the still-sleeping boy to lie on his back, and sighs as he gets to press himself to his hot side. There are benefits to temperature quirks, beyond the obvious tactical uses.

He watches as Izuku pulls on his workout gear from the drawer of spare clothes he keeps in Katsuki's wardrobe (a match to his own drawer in Izuku's room), and comes over to kiss both of them again.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, smiling, and then slips out the door.

Katsuki nuzzles into Shouto’s side and goes back to sleep.

---

 

He wakes up again an unknown amount of time later, to Shouto carding fingers through his hair.

He grunts, and Shouto murmurs, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he replies, “Deku's on a run like a fucking psycho.”

“It’s-" he feels the chest under him flex as Shouto cranes his neck to look for a clock, “- not even seven o'clock.”

“He’s a fucking psycho.”

“I’m not disagreeing. I’m horrified.”

Katsuki huffs his approval and then has an idea, and grins and licks up the side of Shouto’s pectoral. The steady breathing of before stutters away, and Katsuki is pleased, until Shouto shuffles out from beneath him.

He’s half a second from apologising - which he hates doing – when he realises Shouto isn’t going anywhere. He’s just turning on his side to look at him face to face, gloriously nude beneath the covers that drape over them.

“I want to kiss you,” Shouto informs him.

“Don’t need my permission, Shortcake.”

He shakes his head; “All the time. I want to kiss you like I kiss Izuku, anytime I please. I don’t want it to be me and Izuku and secretly you too, I want all of us together in the open.”

Katsuki frowns. Shouto rarely speaks so much at once unless it’s regarding coursework, and he looks genuinely upset – and that’s not something that Katsuki wants to be the cause of. “Was it really stressing you out that much? Shit, Shortcake, you shoulda said. ‘Course I don’t mind telling everyone – they had to find out eventually. I was just having fun watching them all fall over themselves trying to figure out how long you two’ve been secretly dating.”

“Okay. I’m glad,” Shouto says, “I’m a private person too, but I’m not fond of lying to everyone.”

“No more lying,” Katsuki agrees, and reaches up to bring him down to his lips, “Come ‘n get your kisses.”

Shouto does so, with great gusto, and shows once more that it’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for. Always.

Between Shouto and Izuku, Katsuki is very, very doomed.

---

 

One intensely satisfying orgasm later, Shouto sighs against his hair, and says he should probably get back to his room to get ready to face the day.

“You should bring some of your clothes to leave here,” Katsuki says, “Deku and I do that. Easier than having to walk of shame it around the building.”

Shouto blushes lightly at the offer, so pleased that he even pops one of his tiny, adorable smiles; “I’ll do that. You should both leave things in my room, too.”

“I’ll bring some shit up later today,” Katsuki promises, and even ten minutes after Shouto is gone he feels like he’s floating on a cloud.

He rapidly descends back to Earth when he shuffles into the kitchen a little later. Deku will be back shortly, and Katsuki is hungry, so he's making them – and anyone else around, he grudgingly admits to himself – some breakfast.

His friends, Deku's friends, and Tokoyami are already assembled, all huddled around one corner of the counter grilling a frantic-looking Kiri about who-knows-what. The conversation grinds to a halt as Katsuki arrives, and he has zero regrets in ending their gossiping. He hates that shit.

“Who wants food?” he mutters, making for the fridge, “Gonna do some omelettes if you want.”

“Yes!” Kiri squeaks, “Omelettes sound great! Why don’t we all just have some tasty food and forget I ever said anything! Especially you, Uraraka-san, since you weren’t supposed to hear anything I may or may not have said anyway!”

Katsuki squints at him around the fridge door. “Are you having a fucking seizure? Should I call Recovery Girl?”

“Bakugou,” Uraraka says, cheeks an angry scarlet and overall looking like a pissed off chipmunk, “This morning, Kirishima-"

“Kirishima knows nothing!” Kiri yelps loudly, “Kirishima saw nothing and said nothing, and will never speak again after today!”

“The fuck did you do?” Katsuki asks, reluctantly amused at how manic his friend is looking.

“Kirishima saw Todoroki-kun leaving your room this morning!” Uraraka yells, right as Jirou and Yaoyorozu turn up from the girls' side, blinking at the commotion, “He had no reason to be there that early besides something suspicious. I don’t want to believe the worst of any of my friends, but I know that you can be cruel-"

“Hey!” Kaminari snaps, sparking up in indignation, “You can’t talk to him like that!”

“Yeah, you don’t know the first thing about Bakugou!” Ashido says, jumping down from her spot on the bench to square up with Uraraka.

Dear god, they’re getting into a brawl in the kitchen over him, of all people.

“Why was Todoroki-kun in your room?” Uraraka ploughs on, ire dripping from her every word. “What possible reason could he have had to be there that early?”

Katsuki has several options for a response. He can be honest, as he had agreed to be with Shouto. He can deflect, as they have been doing. He ultimately decides to be an unhelpful little shit, because he isn’t coming clean with neither of his boyfriends present to back him up.

“How do you know he was leaving my goddamn room?” he asks Kiri, “Did you have a fucking chat with him in the hall?”

Uraraka swivels to glare at Kiri, who grimaces; “No! He was at the lifts going up, and I figured he probably wasn’t lost or visiting Shouji, so-"

“You said “he looked all ruffled and cute, I think he spent the night with Baku-bro”,” Uraraka accuses, pointing a finger at the redhead, “You can’t deny that. Tokoyami and I walked in at the same time, and we both heard you!”

Tokoyami nods slowly; “I cannot deny that that is what I heard.”

“So, what, you think Todoroki is cheating on Midoriya with Bakugou?” Jirou pipes up, incredulous, “Wouldn’t Midoriya be more likely to cheat on Todoroki with Bakugou? I mean, there’s a lot going on between those two-"

“Midoriya would never cheat on anyone,” Iida declares, gesturing decisively, “I do not wish to believe that any of my classmates or friends would be capable of such deceit; there must be a reasonable explanation!”

Shouto glides up beside Yaoyorozu then, and there’s something in his expression that makes Katsuki feel like there’s about to be shenanigans – something about it reminds him of that night when he’d stolen his muffin and declared his feelings not five feet from his present spot.

“I thought there was going to be breakfast,” he says, blinking slowly, looking very much like he’d just woken up, “Izuku texted me to let me know he'd be back soon, and you normally feed him if you’re making food.”

“And you wanted a free meal, huh,” Katsuki snorts, “Fucking rich kid can’t make his own eggs. The Spanish Omelette Inquisition is happening, that’s why there’s no food. Kiri is on trial for crimes against the throuple.”

“Throuple?” Yaoyorozu asks.

“I hate that word,” Izuku says, making most of the room jump. Stealthy asshole made it through the front door and over to the gathered class without a single soul noticing his arrival. He’s sweaty and grinning, hyped up on endorphins and ready for whatever life throws at him. Today, life is throwing them a dramatic coming out party, and he is wholly unfazed. “Where’s breakfast, Kacchan?”

“You’re both as bad as each other,” Katsuki tuts, finally grabbing what he needs out of the fridge and heading for the counter.

“So there's really a throuple!?” Ashido asks, anger forgotten as she bounces on her toes and looks around the three of them, grinning.

“Izuku,” Uraraka says, still looking fierce, “Do you know of any reason why Todoroki-kun would have been in Bakugou's room early this morning?”

“Ah, a couple. Why?”

This brings Uraraka up short, and Katsuki barks out a laugh, unable to help himself.

“A fucking couple? Seriously? You’re such a little shit.”

“So- you know why he was there?” Uraraka says, finally standing down.

“Yeah,” Izuku admits sheepishly, “If whoever saw him leaving had been watching a little earlier, he would’ve seen me heading out on my run. We stayed in Kacchan’s room last night.”

“Oh,” Iida says, as if he suddenly understands, “You were studying and stayed the night! How admirable.”

Katsuki has to bite his fist to keep from laughing aloud, his shoulders shaking as Izuku goes red in the face of Iida's befuddlement.

“We were studying some shit, four-eyes, don’t you worry,” he agrees when he’s mostly recovered, wiping away a tear, “Shortcake was helping us brush up on our biology.”

“See, Ochako?” Iida smiles, “We never should have doubted our friends!”

Uraraka is staring at Bakugou like he's grown a second head, and then abruptly she turns to face Izuku, who's adopted a kicked-puppy face in preparation for any potential repercussions.

Katsuki turns, still grinning a little helplessly, and finally gets to chopping spring onions.

“Were you hiding this- because of me?” she asks, sounding heartbroken, “Because you knew that I knew that Bakugou was awful to you?”

“No, no, no!” Izuku races to comfort her, “It’s like I kept telling you: we're really private people. Kacchan and I really hate rumours and stuff, and so does Shouto, so we were trying to keep stuff quiet because we didn’t want... Well, this,” he grimaces, gesturing at the room currently housing the majority of their class, who have assembled to watch the unfolding drama. Most of the stragglers have arrived, and Aoyama even appears to be recording the proceedings on his phone.

“Even from your best friends?” Uraraka asks, betrayed.

“Well, yeah,” he murmurs, “Kacchan's friends gossip about everything-"

“Fair,” Sero shrugs.

“- and if he couldn’t tell them, then I wasn’t allowed to tell you guys. And we just kept going with those rules.”

“We, uh, only figured out after Intervention Day, if it makes you feel better,” Kirishima says, “Since we knew Todoroki's first date with Midoriya was that day, and you came home with bags from the same arcade.”

“And you kept your shit together for all of a month,” Katsuki snorts, “Useless fucks.”

“So- you’re dating... all of each other?” Uraraka asks, “All three of you?”

“We are,” Shouto confirms.

The room explodes into shock and congratulations and general jubilation, and Katsuki pulls out a wok. “Who the fuck wants breakfast? This is my last call.”

“I thought you said you were studying!” Iida cries, horrified, and Katsuki grins over his shoulder, past the throng, at his boyfriends, who have been swamped by well-wishers and are both starting to go red as the questions flow around them.

Everyone remains too shit-scared to try such a thing with him, besides his friends, who offer quiet congratulations and then offer to help with breakfast prep.

Shouto gets his wish to kiss Katsuki whenever he wants to ten minutes later, and everyone coos at them.

Katsuki accepts it – getting to have PDAs is more than enough to make up for their lost privacy.

Notes:

Just the epilogue after this, and that'll be a wrap!

Chapter 6: Epilogue

Notes:

This chapter is just an explosion of TodoBaku and is infinitely better than the original epilogue for it.

Shouto awakens to hands gently pulling him into optimal space heater position. It’s a familiar way to wake up, when he spends the night with his boyfriends.

He grumbles a little, and Katsuki grumbles a little back. Somewhere off to the side Izuku giggles quietly, and there’s the sound of rustling fabric as he dresses.

“Wh’s time?” he grunts, not bothering to open his eyes. Katsuki groans against his neck, a wordless plea to shut up and go back to sleep.

“Six thirty,” Izuku whispers, coming over to kiss both of them goodbye, “Go back to sleep, guys.”

“Fuck off, then,” Katsuki mumbles.

“Love you, too,” Izuku assures him, and then heads out, the door quietly clicking shut behind him.

Shouto lets himself drift, Katsuki’s even breathing lulling him back to sleep.

---

 

When he wakes again, the sun is actually up. Katsuki is firmly plastered to his side, soaking up the heat his warmer side generates, and is audibly displeased when Shouto starts nudging him.

“Fuck off,” he groans pitifully, “It’s Sunday, let me sleep.”

“I will,” Shouto assures him, “I’m hungry, you have to let me go.”

“Never,” Katsuki says stubbornly.

Shouto's heart warms at the little declaration, and he huffs a laugh against Katsuki's hair. “I’m getting breakfast, Katsuki. I’ll bring you a hot water bottle.”

When he makes it into the kitchen, Katsuki is by his side, hunched and ready to snarl at anyone who crosses his path.

No one does, even as Katsuki pushes Shouto into a stool and starts collecting ingredients. Shouto's idea of breakfast is something small that takes thirty seconds, like cereal or some fruit. Katsuki is happy with nothing less than a third of their daily caloric intake for their morning meal, and will make sure that they get it, if he cooks. Which he often does.

It’s the little things that show how much Katsuki cares, Shouto has found.

He watches quietly as the blond assembles rice and eggs and sauce, and grabs some chicken out of the freezer to throw into the microwave – omurice, excellent. The rice is set on the stove to boil, the eggs are scrambled and put aside, and Katsuki abruptly stops mid-turn when he sees Shouto looking at him.

“What're you staring at?” he huffs, as if the answer isn’t obvious.

“I have a problem,” Shouto says.

“With me, or in general?” Katsuki snorts.

“With you.”

“Oh, really?” Katsuki asks, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed, task forgotten, “You wanna tell me, or you just gonna keep staring?”

Shouto stands and comes around the island to get right in Katsuki's space. It catches him off guard, and he blinks up at Shouto in surprise as he crowds him up against the counter.

“Shortcake?”

“I’m in love,” Shouto says quietly, “No over-dramatic dying this time, though.”

Katsuki scoffs, colour rising in his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at Shouto’s face, “This is pretty dramatic, asshole.”

Shouto shrugs; “I’m a drama queen, sue me.”

Then he quickly bends to grab Katsuki around the waist to pick him up and deposit him on the counter, making him a little taller than Shouto. Katsuki's eyes widen at the move, and he hisses, “Shouto!” as if anyone cares about their shenanigans anymore.

Shouto kisses him, which is probably the most effective way possible to shut up the Wild Bakugou.

Katsuki sighs almost silently, sliding forward on the counter and spreading his knees so Shouto can press right up against him. Shouto’s hands rest at his waist, and Katsuki’s arms loop loosely around his shoulders, and the whole thing is gloriously lazy and domestic. Shouto loves these moments so much it’s beyond his ability to articulate it – so he just makes sure they happen as often as possible.

“Really, guys? On the counter?” interrupts Sero, ruining Shouto's perfect morning in two seconds flat, “Where we make the food?”

Shouto very pointedly does not let Katsuki move away to retort, and flips off Sero and whoever else is behind him.

“... Oh my god, he’s been corrupted,” says Jirou, sounding horrified. Katsuki's lips pull up into a smirk against his, and he presses one last lingering closed-mouthed kiss to Shouto’s lips before pulling back.

“Nah, Todoroki always radiated “fuck you” energy,” Kaminari disagrees as Shouto turns to face their classmates, “We just aren't used to having it directed at us, anymore.”

Katsuki grabs him and pulls him backwards against him, wrapping his arms around his chest and resting his chin on Shouto's left shoulder, like the heat leech he is.

“Sero, you talk like you assholes ever actually cook anything,” he says, still smirking, “Me and Satou are the only fuckers who even know how to use an oven in this place.”

“Okay, rude,” Kaminari says, “Also untrue. I make a great potato bake.”

“Prove it.”

“Fuck you, maybe I will!”

“Wait, question,” Jirou says, interrupting the brewing cook off, “Is “fuck you” energy different than “fuck me” energy?”

“Fuck me energy is reserved for Midoriya and Bakugou,” Sero says, leering slightly.

“Wait, wait, no,” Ashido says, right as Momo rounds the corner. Shouto is starting to suspect that she somehow knows when the gossip is happening and can track it to its source using some sort of witchcraft, or maybe a secondary quirk. “Todoroki totally has “I’m going to fuck you” energy, not “fuck me” energy.”

“Do you top or bottom, Todoroki?” Jirou asks, a teasing grin.

Unfortunately for her, Shouto is a bit of an asshole, and isn’t afraid of them. “Why limit yourself to one or the other?”

“Oh, wow,” Ashido mutters as Jirou goes bright pink at the implication.

“You asked,” he points out.

“You’re not supposed to answer,” Jirou whines.

“Bleach!” Kaminari screams, “Where do we keep the bleach!?”

“So, is Midoriya the bottom?” Ashido asks, completely uncaring of her friends’ agony, “Asking for a friend.”

“You’re asking for the pool.”

“I totally am. I have five thousand yen riding on this.”

“You’re an idiot,” Katsuki says blandly, “You’re all fucking stupid.”

“We care very much about you and your relationship,” Sero corrects. “Kiri will confirm.”

“Kirishima isn’t in the pool at all,” Momo announces, “He pulled out after he realised Bakugou was part of the wager.”

Katsuki's fingers spasm against Shouto’s chest, and he leans back into him imperceptibly. Katsuki can’t deal with compliments or shows of affection, he’s learned. It takes an ambush to get one past him, which would be endearing if it wasn’t equally annoying. Shouto likes heaping praise on his boyfriends.

“Yaomomo, you’re killing our chances of settling this stupid bet before graduation!” Kaminari whines.

“It’s none of your damn business anyway, fuckwits,” Katsuki scoffs, pulling away from Shouto and pushing against his back to make him move, “Get a hobby. Rice is boiling.”

Shouto moves, and Katsuki goes to tend to his cooking. Momo and Katsuki's friends are deeply embroiled in a discussion about pros and cons of gambling on other people’s lives (Momo is winning because she is, of course, correct). Shouto leans his hip against the island and half-listens to their failing argument, watching Katsuki move through the motions of making probably his favourite breakfast food with skill born of long practise.

Izuku comes back in midway through the discussion, hears that they’re talking about the stupid bet again, and rolls his eyes and leaves, presumably to shower and change.

The debate only ends when Kirishima, already brimming with energy despite the early hour, bounds down the hallway into the kitchen, and makes a sad face.

“Enough for me?” he asks, puppy eyes engaged.

Katsuki rolls his eyes; “Crack some eggs, there’s enough rice for maybe five.”

“Alright!” Kirishima says, doing as he’s told and mixing up more eggs under Katsuki's direction.

“Wait, five?” Kaminari asks, “Who's the fifth one for?”

“Battle Royale for the last serving of omurice!” Mina declares.

“I'll drop out of the bet!” Sero announces.

“Kiri didn’t need bribes to do that shit,” Katsuki snorts, “Which is why I like him better than the rest of you.”

“HEY!!!”

Izuku sidles up and inserts himself under Shouto’s arm, watching the proceedings with amusement. “Everyone's pretty lively this morning, huh?”

“Everyone’s insane,” Shouto corrects.

“Okay, fair,” Izuku agrees as Katsuki starts brandishing his chopsticks at Kaminari in a fairly violent manner.

They watch Katsuki fend off his hoard of ravenous minions for a brief moment, before Izuku quietly asks, “Did you tell him?”

“Yeah,” Shouto says, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“YAOMOMO IS GETTING THE LAST SERVING, AND THE REST OF YOU ARE GETTING EXPLODED!”

“NOOOOOOOOO!”

“Kacchan, maybe you shouldn’t-”

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, SHITTY DEKU!”

“Aww, they love each other,” Ashido coos.

Izuku hides his face in Shouto’s chest, Katsuki swears and turns back to the stove, and Shouto smiles.

It’s still cold outside, but he’s never felt so warm.

Notes:

And so we come to a close!

I hope you all enjoyed this fic, I certainly enjoyed writing it and hearing your kind words about it. :)

Go find me over on Tumblr at runawaydeviant if you wanna chat or maybe throw a plot bunny my way!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Each And Every Freckle