Work Text:
Izuku fell in love on a quiet spring day.
They’d gone to the park, his idea because he wanted to see which birds had migrated and which hadn’t, and Shouto said he’d come along because Shouto has always been the kind of person to say yes, but content in a way that Izuku never worries he means no.
There’s always been a special amount of trust between them.
Izuku has never been embarrassed around him or ashamed of himself, and Shouto has always listened to him with both kindness and an attentive ear.
But it wasn’t these tokens of Shouto’s friendship that swayed him. No, these parts of him have always been sacred, something Izuku has always wanted to appreciate without need or feelings, but this…
Shouto napped next to him on the bench, content to wait for Izuku to sketch out every single bird he saw, when a butterfly landed on top of his head, fluttering its cerulean wings without any concern at all.
He was just another flower in the park between the daisies and the tulips, and Izuku sketched him too, taking special care with the sharp angle of his cheek, and the slope of his nose, and his feathery soft hair that was surely finer than silk.
Izuku brushed his fingers through it carefully and fondly, sending their winged guest away, and Shouto blinked back at him, tired but not perturbed.
“What is it,” he mumbled, his voice as soft as his eyes, and Izuku thought then how lucky he was that it was he who got to see him like this.
“You look like a flower,” Izuku said.
“You look like a shrub.”
“Hey!”
Shouto smiled lazily to his own satisfaction, and Izuku fell in love again.
Just as he had a thousand times before.