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Izuku was so lost... and in so much trouble. He sighed and winced internally anticipating the long-shouted - lecture waiting for him at his destination, courtesy of his one, childhood friend, Bakugou Katsuki. Even with just the anticipation of the lecture – right at his face, obviously – and a nagging pressure stirred in his temples.
But he didn’t have time to consider that, he was quite lost, the map on his phone, of no help. It had led him to a dead end, in a frankly charming cul-de-sac with lush, green, well-tended lawns, and large, impressive, three floor Georgian houses. He gave the location appreciative looks then refocused on his objective.
He sighed frustrated and exhaled slowly emptying his lungs, regulating his breathing, an exercise he learned at eight years old from a grumpy martial arts teacher. The memory of the shaggy, slouched, half asleep man brought a smile to his lips, and with the hand not holding his mobile, massaged the stress out of his temples.
Okay, let’s re-assess.
He closed and reopened the virtual map application, retyped the directions to the business meeting and waited for the app to re-map his location. It seemed to stubbornly misplace him one street away from where he actually was, and he looked around for anyone he could ask directions from.
It was apparent that it was too early in the day for a chance encounter with a kind soul he could ask for directions. It was right after the school runs had finished and well before lunchtime. Checking the time on his phone caused his anxiety to spike again, even higher and he found his hand trembling slightly as he squeezed his mobile.
Izuku hated asking Katsuki for help, the grief he’d usually be put though by ‘anger-issues’ - as he mentally dubbed his blond friend - always heightened his anxiety to new levels along with a new dose of resentment. Why were they friends again?
Regardless, the extra time he’d accounted for in finding the new address had passed and he would soon be running late, which was completely unprofessional, and rather than having his delay become an inconvenience to their new client, he chose to bite the lion in his den.
The call to Katsuki connected on the 5th ring and a smirk made its way onto Izuku’s lips at the implications. All anxiety drained from his shoulders and his lips let slip an inaudible, amused chuckle.
“What do you want?” the gruff voice sounded awfully short of breath and now Izuku was full-on grinning.
“Busy, are you?”
“Shut your face nerd! Why are you bothering me?”
“Listen, I can find the address for the meeting - is this it?” he sent Katsuki the address copied directly from the email forwarded to him by Mina and heard the loud groan though the line.
“No bloody wonder you can’t find it, it’s the wrong fucking postcode! Pink hair has wax in her years I swear to fucking god!”
Armed with the correct address he added a cheeky “make sure you and your fiancée are decent by the time I arrive Kachan” and promptly hung up, cutting off the screeching shout the let out.
Messing with a horny Katsuki was always fun, the guy only showed more than two emotions to his girlfriend of four years (now fiancée, he reminded himself) and never failed to confirm his short temper with every amused remark Izuku made.
*
The meeting had gone quite well, he considered. They were to be working on Ochako’s project offering their expertise for her plans to build Katsuki and herself their new home, as a wedding gift to her future husband. Ochako or ‘The Woman in Katsuki’s life’ as he mentally considers is a smart businesswoman who had re-built her parents’ construction company from the ground up, making it truly successful. She seemed bubbly and outgoing, warm, and with a mean streak when her favourite people were in trouble. He admired her spirit and hoped they were going to build a friendship around Katsuki who was beside himself with smug pride. He had always lucked out.
Taking a tentative left on the path from Ochako’s home, his faith in the map severely diminished, he was rewarded with the sight of the promised shops a little further down the alley.
As he looked around inquisitively, he was quickly drawn to a quaint little coffee shop by the distinct smell of Arabica. He followed his nose and entered the venue looking around at the cosy set up. Walking slowly towards the counter he swept his sight across the seating tables, and noticed a nook table with one large, cosy looking chair and a great view of the back garden where bright, potted flowers swayed gently in the breeze.
“Hello, welcome to Erasure” a soft, almost breathy voice made his attention return to the counter and he smiled self-conscious at being caught daydreaming. He ran a had though his fringe, pushing the curls away from his eyes as he ran his sight over the drinks list.
Smiling sheepishly, he asked the young person at the counter for any recommendations and tilted his head intrigued when they cleared their throat and ran a hand through the red side of their fringe pulling at the strands and fully covering the trace of a scar. They had striking dual coloured hair completely separated down the middle, one side red and the other white. The uneven cut of their fringe covered their right side to their chin, the longer parts held behind their shoulder in what could be a plat, loose silky strands looking soft as they covered part of an ear.
They kept their sight lowered as they addressed Izuku’s questions their fingers pressing onto the countertop so strongly they were nearly white.
“The cakes and croissants are freshly made this morning and the coffee has been responsibility sourced.” Their words sounded rehearsed, even a little rushed at the end. Noticing their drooping shoulders Izuku made his decision quickly and relayed it with what he hoped was his most reassuring smile.
It was early in the day still and drawn by the general ambiance of the café he was certain he could work in that very enticing corner. Probably even be more productive here than at the office, what with the ‘Queen of gossip Mina’ waiting like a hawk for his return after meeting Katsuki’s fiancé...
He paid for his purchase, Arabica, black, and a breakfast croissant with cheese and ham, and made his way to the single table pulling his laptop out of his bag. Luckily, he was the only customer so the first hour reading the proposal went by in a blink, the soothing ambient music helping him relax and focus on the document.
While he tweaked a few other documents, adding his commentary to the narrative, a barely audible shuffle pulled his attention from the laptop screen and he nearly startled to see the young person had approached him.
“My apologies sir, the lunch rush is about to hit, and I was wondering if you wanted a refill before it gets busy.” They looked like they wanted to add more to their statement and normally Izuku would offer reassuring words but at that moment he found himself completely unable to form words.
He felt his mouth slack in awe as he took in the appearance of the young person. The first he noticed were their eyes, coloured differently ‘heterochromia’ he mouthed in a daze and a delicate dusting of red tinted their delicate cheeks, a pronounced swallow drew his bewildered sight to their jaw and damn if it wasn’t the most attractive jaw he’d ever seen.
Wait, what?
“Uh...” he said stupidly and tried very hard to scrape together sounds because he couldn’t find two thoughts together that weren’t ‘wow, beautiful’ on repeat. He couldn’t understand how this person’s attractiveness hit him so hard.
It was definitely the different angle they were at, with Izuku seated and the barista looking at him from a standing position, which allowed Izuku a clear view of their face and the beauty he discovered there was almost intimidating.
Noticing the slight shuffle as they moved their weight from one leg to the other, very likely completely weirded out by Izuku’s melted brain, he made a valiant effort to recollect himself and addressed them with a true smile.
“Thank you for your consideration, I will have a refill, please and a club sandwich. Could you also add a bottle of sparkling water?”
They swallowed and inhaled quickly then replied, arms held behind their back as they slightly bowed their head.
“Of course, I will bring everything over when ready.” They moved away from the table and repeated the same gesture of pulling at their left side fringe and Izuku noticed that the tops of their ears were quite red. They looked small and delicate, especially coloured so lovely.
Continuing to look at the barista he saw them use the order machine to punch in the sandwich order and move towards the coffee machine to brew the black coffee.
A sudden bell rang somewhere out of sight and a few minutes later a dark-haired man, with a clean, white apron over his black clothes came out though a side door and deposited a delicious looking sandwich next to the barista at the counter.
As the man moved to return to the kitchen - Izuku now knew the back area was indeed the kitchen - sprang from his place at the table and stopped dead in their way. A gruff look of annoyance gave way to utter astonishment as the man recognised him.
“Hello Shouta-sensei, nice to see you well.” He gave the man his biggest smile and was immediately pulled into a quick, firm hug.
“Midoriya, good to see you, problem child” the gruff tone was tinged with fondness and he found himself chuckling at the old nickname. He opened his mouth to continue but the bell above the door rang and a handful of people walked into the venue.
Shouta pushed him away and towards his seat then delivered Izuku’s order himself and with a sigh made his way back into his kitchen.
As he dug into his delicious sandwich - and really Shouta made the best ones (sorry mum!) he made brief eye contact with stormy grey and sky blue. He offered another smile to the young person working so efficiently with the crowd and, yeah, they were definitely showing red on their ears. Quite adorable, really.
With a start he checked himself at the realisation, he was never one to be so attracted to someone, so quickly and especially to a stranger. And noticing them so closely was very surprising. His brain often picked up on certain details, but he had never felt so intrigued before, had never wished to tell someone they didn’t need to hide, that they were beautiful.
Most importantly they looked young, were probably even a teenager. The thought caused a cold shiver to run down Izuku’s back. That was very dangerous territory and he felt sickened by the thought of becoming attracted to someone barely older than a child.
He covered his mouth with a trembling hand and forced himself to swallow his mouthful of food, suddenly not even remotely hungry anymore. He chased the dry mouthful almost lodged in his throat with the water and decidedly fixed his sight on the potted plants he could see through the window. What was he thinking, attaching his shortcomings onto an innocent, beautiful bystander.
He needed to get back to the office anyway and that was better for everyone, he’ll forget about those eyes soon enough, he told himself and even tried to believe it.
Packing away his laptop and stacking the plate and coffee mug he made his way to the counter waiting in line to settle his bill. As soon as he pulled his wallet though the door from the kitchen area opened, and Shouta was waving him over with a determined look.
“Okay, just let me pay for this” he was already holding out his card when the dark-haired man scoffed.
“Shouto, his bill is covered, is that clear?”
A brief smile touched their – Shouto’s – lips and it was as gentle as a spring flower. Shoving his wallet back into his suit jacket Izuku shook it off and folded it over his arm. He felt his own lips quirking into a smile as he shook his head and pulled his mobile to call Katsuki and let him know he met their old sensei so close to his (Ochako’s) house and was going to take the rest of the afternoon off to catch up.
Ten minutes into a new cup of coffee and the best lemon biscuits he’d ever had (sorry mum!) he was unsurprised to hear his childhood friend’s unmistakable tone of shout-talking getting louder and louder at intervals. Sharing an amused look with Shouta they both made their way to the front of the shop to observe a bewildering sight.
Katsuki and Shoto were locked into an elbow cut, the look in Shoto’s eyes determined as he looked prepared to throw the blond on the floor and moving on instinct Izuku absorbed the flow from Shoto’s technique while containing the explosion from Katsuki with a no-nonsense look.
“Breathing exercises forgotten then Katsuki Bakugou?” a bored tone addressed the blond and said man nearly gave himself whiplash with the speed he readjusted his poise.
“No sensei, sorry for the noise” he replied to the older man while giving Shoto a rage filled look. With a sigh, Izuku stepped away from the two and with an apologetic smile towards the heterochromatic eyes pulled his friend by his arm towards their retreating sensei.
Once they were all settled on barstool chairs, away from the preparation area, the three tried to catch up on the last decade since they hadn’t seen each other. Close to four pm though the orders had picked up considerably and both Katsuki and Izuku made sure to pitch in with the preparation. Luckily there was no shouting of “out of my kitchen nerd” or any fits from the blonde with Shouta there and they were given clear directions in his usual no-nonsense tone.
“Midoriya, can you take the orders to Shoto? I am pretty sure you know which is which, right?”
“No problem sensei, on it.” He grabbed all the plated dishes and moved carefully to the till. A surprised Shoto looked at Izuku’s full hands and made to collect the plates.
“Don’t worry, just let me know what tables these are for, and I will take them.”
Following the precise instructions from Shoto, Izuku gave everyone their order, even stopping for quick exchanges with the customers. He wasn’t able to help them with recommendations, of course (he didn’t actually work there) but he took very accurate mental notes for additions to different orders and relayed them to the two-tone haired young man, concisely.
There were no fewer than ten additional changes and they were all correct. Izuku returned to the kitchen to bring out the rest of the orders and saw his old friend wolf down a club sandwich he hadn’t made himself. Holding back a laugh he quickly returned to Shoto’s side for the next set of instructions.
*
Luckily by six pm even the most addicted coffee lovers had cleared the venue and Shoto was trying his hardest to go though the closing process at his quickest pace. His childhood hero was in the back of the shop with his adoptive father, and he couldn’t believe he now had the chance to meet him, again, after ten years.
Izuku Midoriya had saved him. With his keen observation and empathy, the, then, teenager had suspected the circumstances of his abusive training and immediately notified his sensei, Shoto’s now father, and everything had changed in his life. The world gained colour, life had meaning, and his heart had coloured green.
Rushing to the entrance he locked the door and flipped the 'Closed' sign with determination. His heart beating wildly in his throat he pushed open the door to the kitchen and smiled at the two dark haired men he loved so much, in such different ways.
Ignoring the rabid growl from the blonde man he smiled towards the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen and offered him his hand in greeting.
“My name is Shoto Aizawa and you are my hero.”