Chapter Text
"Of course, fear does not automatically lead to courage. Injury does not necessarily lead to insight. Hardship will not automatically make us better. Pain can break us or make us wiser. Suffering can destroy us or make us stronger. Fear can cripple us, or it can make us more courageous. It is resilience that makes the difference."
Artwork/Commission by Teya
Izuku stands in the doorway of his bedroom, his eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses and tears silently cascading down his cheeks.
His hands grip the doorframe until his knuckles are white and he's trembling. His bottom lip quivers and he clenches his eyes shut to stop himself from crying. He refuses to let himself appear anything but indifferent even if he's suspected for months now.
"Shit," he hears a voice curse while the other giggles seductively. "Wasn't expecting you home so early. I thought you had classes or work."
The greenette's eyes widen as his next words come out in a choked whisper.
"Is this... some kind of joke? What the hell, Touya?"
His hand grips the front of his shirt to stop himself from trembling, the soft cotton of his t-shirt bunching beneath his fingertips. The man, Touya Todoroki, sits up in the shared bed with a long sigh. Next to him, a young man with chestnut hair and eyes that held the color of pure shit reaches for his boyfriend, pawing at him while whispering, "Does he cry like that all the time?"
Touya shoots the man a sharp look before folding his hands and letting the comforter pool at his shapely hips.
"Look... I can give you a buncha nonsense like oh this won't happen again, but I ain't going to lie right to your face."
"Isn't that exactly what you've been doing?" Izuku screeches, throwing his hands in the air. "We've been together for four years, Touya, four years. How long has this..." He hiccups before he can stop himself. He sounds so weak. "been going on?"
Touya meets his eyes with a sympathetic gaze.
"Do you want the truth?"
"Does that even matter anymore, coming from you?"
Touya rolls his eyes and quips, "Ouch. There you go, being dramatic again. Listen, I warned you when we got together that things wouldn't be easy when it came to me. Hell, my brother warned you. You chose this."
Izuku wraps his arms around himself, closing his eyes to try and contain whatever dignity he has left. He wasn't going to beg. He wasn't going to get on his hands and knees and cry for Touya to promise him it'll never happen again.
"Answer me one thing, at the very least..." He inhales sharply before whispering, "Did you at any point love me?"
Touya appears surprised and answers, "Of course I did. I took you in after your piece of shit parents kicked you to the curb, right? I gave you a place to call your own, I made sure you were always taken care of, and you were always too cute for your own good. I had a hard time staying away from you. I supported you when you went to school and pursued your passions. I was there for you."
"So what changed?" Izuku spits out, his mind needing to know.
"Come on," Touya groans, his naked form standing from the bed with the man next to him peering up with that shit-eating grin on his face. Izuku feels his blood boiling. "Don't make me say it, please. I don't wanna hurt your feelings, sweetheart."
Izuku's nostrils flare.
"I think we're past that."
"Fine!" Touya throws his hands in the air, exasperated. "You're dull, Izuku. I tried my damndest to get you to crawl out of your shell, and you just stayed there. You're ordinary at best. Our lives were on a constant loop, and I'm sorry, toots, but I just can't deal with that. Life's too short to be living under a fucking rock. You're adorable, don't get me wrong, but even sex became a damn chore with you."
Izuku feels a lump in his throat, his eyes brimming with tears.
"Dull..." he repeats, tasting the word sourly on his tongue.
Wrapping a discarded towel around his waist, Touya approaches Izuku and stands before him. The greenette takes in his features, all sharp and defined and positively to die for. Touya Todoroki is the type of man who lives life dangerously. The company he keeps is questionable at best, and Izuku puts up with all of that for the sake of just being loved.
He feels sick gazing into those pale, cerulean eyes. Bile rises in his throat when Touya reaches and brushes his thumb against his cheek. The room smells of sex, alcohol, and bodily fluids that Izuku doesn't want to think of at that moment.
"I'm just being honest. I didn't want it to end like this, so I planned that dinner for next week."
Izuku rears back from Touya's touch as if it burned.
"You were already planning to leave me over dinner? What, so I could be humiliated in public? Why not just wait until," he hiccups again. Fuck. "u-until we were already broken up?"
"I've got needs, kid. Don't make me explain it. Don't wanna make you cry more."
Izuku can't listen anymore. Touya's tone is so casual; nonchalant. He inhales a quivering breath and storms past Touya and completely ignores the slender homewrecker who is casually reclining in their bed, observing the greenette with curious eyes. He grabs a duffle from their joint closet and begins tossing articles of clothing and other personal belongings inside of it.
"You're overreacting," Touya deadpans, shaking his head and scoffing.
"I did everything for you," Izuku hisses, anger bubbling in his gut. "I gave up friends for you. I w-worked my ass off to keep this house up and running while y-you'd disappear for days on end. I..." Swallowing heavily, Izuku continues, "I gave up so much of myself for you."
"And that's a you problem," Touya responds while shrugging. "I'm not kicking you out. I'm not that heartless. Sheesh, you'd think I fucking shot your dog. You won't make it on your own out there without me. God knows your parents aren't going to help."
During arguments, Touya loved dangling those words over Izuku's head. It makes his insides churn each time. He's been drilling that Izuku isn't capable on his own since the one-year mark of their relationship. So many red flags, not enough backbone to stand up for himself, because what was the point?
"No, you broke my heart. I was committed to you, Touya." As an afterthought, the greenette adds, "And I'd sooner sleep on a bench. You've always underestimated me. Always."
He clenches his eyes shut to stop the tears flowing freely, but to no avail. He sniffles and throws the bag over his shoulder, not bothering to spare another glance at either Touya, who had promised him the world and more. He once talked about the day they'd get married. Izuku should've known better than to think a force like Touya could possibly ever settle down, let alone commit.
Who is Izuku kidding? Shouto was right. Touya wouldn't understand commitment if it smacked him across the face. For many years, the twenty-one-year-old has witnessed the signs but never reacted to them. Instead, he stayed at Touya's side because he was all he knew. Especially when Izuku first came out to his parents, and how poorly they reacted.
Izuku furiously wipes his tears and exits the house through the back door, slamming it behind him. He glances at the small, modest home one last time. A home on the outskirts of Musutafu, a bustling city filled with wonder and exhilaration. A home he had put his money into. Yet, his name was nowhere on the lease. Thinking back, Izuku realizes just how much he fucked up on that.
It's raining out. Of course, it is. The droplets obscure his vision as they paint his glasses with water, and he sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeve as he treks down the driveway to his debilitated, beaten-down sedan, which is probably older than he is. It's got some rust on the sides and a large dent on the back driver door of its fading, tan paint.
While he and Touya both held respectable jobs and lived in a decent home, it doesn't mean anything ever came easy for the greenette. He barely has anything he can call his.
After slipping into his car, he slams the door, causing the vehicle to groan. Izuku slams his forehead against the steering wheel and wants to completely dissolve into nothingness. Instead, he reaches into his soggy pants pocket and pulls out his smartphone, grimacing at the thought of reaching out to his parents. Still, he exhales a heavy and disheartening sigh and dials a number by memory.
As it rings, his pulse quickens.
When the line picks up, it nearly skyrockets.
"Hello?"
Swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth, Izuku quietly murmurs, "Hi, Mom."
A heavy moment of silence follows his words before anyone speaks.
"Izuku," Inko Midoriya breathes on the other end. "Why are you calling?"
Not, how are you, or oh, honey, it's so good to hear from you.
Frowning deeply, Izuku replies, "Can't I just call to say hi? Or check in?"
"Izuku..." His mother's voice drips with uneasiness.
Right. Of course. He is a fool to think anything has changed. It's been years since he's reached out to his parents. He tried several times after he had left and moved in with Touya, or if memory serves him right, he was thrown out, not according to his father and certainly his mother.
"Right," he drawls, his voice void of emotion. "I'm sorry I called. It won't happen again."
He's about to disconnect the call before his mother says, "Wait!"
Izuku pressed his phone to his ear again and did just that—waited. All he heard was uneven breathing and a shaky sigh, and it was all Izuku could handle at the moment.
"Are you alright? Are you safe?"
Izuku tries to smile through his voice as he responds, "Yeah, Mom. I'm fine. Never better, actually."
"You're still in school? For... what was it?"
I've only talked about it since I was a kid.
"Fine arts," Izuku supplies dully. "I'm a year away from my bachelor's degree."
"Ah..." Inko sighs, unsure of what else to say. "Well... that's good, honey. Good for you."
Izuku wants to vomit; his mother couldn't sound more insincere if she tried.
Panic surges through him when he hears a much deeper, less kind voice echo near his ear.
"Who's on the phone?" Hisashi Midoriya asks, and from the sound of it, he's somewhere far away from the phone. His mother sputters and quickly shuffles the phone around until it creates an unpleasant noise in Izuku's ears. He pulls the phone away and makes a face.
"Nobody, sweetheart. Wrong number."
Click.
Izuku can't help it. Through his tears and overwhelming heartache, he laughs.
He slaps his hand against the steering wheel of his car and laughs.
He continues with his hysterics until his absurd laughter turns into wrenching sobs.
The memory burns like acid in Izuku's mind, the day replaying in his mind over and over without fail. He doesn't want to say he had it hard growing up. His parents were always sweet and kind to him and supported him with all of his aspirations in life.
They showed him love and understanding, and there was never a time he went without. He excelled in school throughout the years, even though he was viciously targeted for his small size and his quiet disposition.
Still, he didn't let it get to him. Izuku always wore a smile despite the shortcomings in his life. Things started to get better as he aged; meeting two friends and beginning to spread his wings just a bit as the days went on. He focused on himself and those he cared about while having his sights set on becoming a well-known and respectable artist.
His father tried pushing him into the medical field to follow in his footsteps, but the younger Midoriya was set on his only passion in life. His mother eventually talked to his father and they accepted that this was the path Izuku wanted to travel down, even if Hisashi held a bit of resentment about it.
Things were going swimmingly in his life.
Until he turned seventeen.
Izuku hadn't bothered with dating growing up simply for fact nobody was ever interested in him. He was what others referred to as plain looking, simple. He wasn't exactly much to glance at; he was quite ordinary in most people's eyes. Nor did he have much to go on, either.
His classmates had found their respective partners during their school years and he silently wondered when he'd meet his match. Yet, he focused heavily on his studies instead. Still... it always felt like something was missing.
So in time, Izuku did begin to explore.
When he began questioning his sexuality, he didn't understand it.
So he did what he was known for; he researched.
Pornography wasn't the most convenient way of trying to confirm your own sexuality, but he tried it anyway. He'd wait until his parents were asleep, lay beneath the covers of his bed, and silently watch with curious fingers reaching for the hem of his boxer shorts.
When he felt no connection spark in his mind watching a man and woman tumble in the sheets, he discreetly ventured and decided to confirm what he had been hoping he was wrong about for so long.
As soon as he watched two men kiss, he immediately felt a tendril of arousal flood through him.
Fuck.
With time, Izuku began to explore this with curiosity. There was a student in the same grade as him who caught his eye and it was what helped Izuku confirm he was, indeed, gay. One kiss and Izuku knew...
And in time, Izuku felt love bloom in his chest over a pair of pale eyes and a head of dark hair. A charming, disarming smile that made his heart constrict and his lungs hitch when he'd try to breathe.
It happened one day when he went to his friend, Shouto's, house to study one evening. Those eyes trailed over his small frame and those lips parted in a positively stunning smile that made Izuku's knees weak.
Touya Todoroki.
Shouto Todoroki was one he considered to be his best friend, and Izuku confided in him about nearly everything. When sparks began to fly between the greenette and the eldest brother, Shouto grabbed Izuku's arm and shook him.
"Don't," he pleaded. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into. First off, you're underage... not that he gives a shit. Secondly, he won't just break your heart--he'll break you. Please, trust me on this. He isn't stable."
Izuku bit his bottom lip, nodding and offering a smile. "Okay," he agreed. "I'm... I'm sorry. He seems sweet, though."
"He isn't," Shouto rushed out. "He might be at first, but he's gone through others like you, Izuku. Just... steer away from him is all I'm asking."
Yet, Izuku didn't heed Shouto's warning. In fact, he flat-out ignored it. In retrospect, Izuku should have listened. He was a sound, logical being who was always ten steps ahead. But, when it came to Touya, Izuku found it hard to resist his charm or the fact that the older man treated him like an actual desirable human being and not some plain, simple boy with a simple life.
So, Izuku fell in love. He got swept up in the waves of passion that he had never experienced before in his life. Kisses along every freckle on his body and whispered sweet words and nothings into his ear, and safety in Izuku's sexuality that he had never had.
His world came crashing down one evening when Touya dropped him off at the house. When he kissed him goodnight, Hisashi witnessed it with widened eyes.
As soon as Izuku stepped through the door, a subtle smile on his face, he felt a pain bloom along his jaw, and his body slammed into the foyer wall. His mother, Inko, came running out and wailed. She wrapped her arms around Izuku and, with widened eyes, stared into her husband's seething gaze.
"What is the matter with you?!" she shouted, his eyes welling. Izuku's eyes merely remained wide, and confusion whirled in their depths.
"What were you doing kissing a man? Have you completely lost your mind? It's... It's revolting and wrong!"
Izuku's lips finally trembled, his mouth trying to form words. "I... Dad, I..."
"I always wondered," his father spat out, standing with his fists clenched. "It all makes sense now. You've never brought a girl home. You were too busy sneaking around like a damn faggot and I was too blind even to see it!"
Shaking his head, Hisashi ground out, "Not my only son. You have a choice: either you stop seeing him or find somewhere else to go. We get you the help you need to--"
"I... I don't need help!" Izuku suddenly shouted. He stood up, and his fists clenched at his sides. "What's so wrong about this? The world has changed, Dad! It's not like it's something I can control! I'm still the same person--I'm still your son."
Silence hung heavy, and Inko cried out when Hisashi struck Izuku again, this time, right in his gut. Izuku stumbled back, gagging while trying to catch his breath. Tears finally began collecting and streaking down his bruised cheeks, and he silently cried.
"Stop this!" Inko screeched, her eyes torn between her husband and son. "Please!"
"What's it going to be, Izuku? Make your choice or I'll make it for you."
Izuku's lips formed a deep, thin line, and he peered at his mother, seeing the heartache all over her face.
"I'm so sorry, Mom," he whispered. He reached into his pocket and produced his cell phone, dialing a single number while saying, "Touya, please come back and get me. Please."
Hisashi looked as though he was ready to charge like a bull in a china shop, but Izuku made a wild dash up to his room and slammed the door. He locked it while his father continued to throw his body into it... Izuku hurriedly collected as many personal belongings as possible, his vision blurred with tears and his throat raw from sobbing. He stuffed everything he could into a duffle from under his bed and unlatched the window.
He first tossed the bag onto the roof, then slid out himself just as his father broke the door off the hinges. Izuku glanced back one last time before he quickly turned away and slid down the roof as he did when he was younger, falling onto the ground below. As he unsteadily rose to his feet, Touya's beaten-down sedan pulled up, and the older man came rushing out to Izuku, his eyes wild with concern.
"What the fuck happened to you? You're bleeding! Hey, talk to me--"
"No time," Izuku rasped. He shoved Touya back to his car. "Please, just get me out of here. Please."
Screaming and banging could be heard inside, along with a few choice words that made Izuku shiver. Touya glanced between Izuku and the house and understanding began to dawn on handsome features. Touya snarled, moving Izuku aside and attempting to make his way to the house, but the greenette jumped in front of him.
"It's not worth it!" Izuku pleaded. "Please, I'm begging you, don't make it worse."
Touya seemed conflicted, rage bubbling and his teeth grinding together. He finally sighed and wrapped his arms around Izuku. "Alright, sweetheart, come on. Let's get you the fuck out of here."
Izuku felt relief wash over him as Touya guided him into his car. The two of them drove off just as Hisashi had run out onto the lawn after them.
Izuku drives until he's parked in front of a familiar apartment building. He swallows whatever pride he has left and taps on his phone again, sending a quick text before stuffing his phone into his back pocket.
He slips out of his car, grabs the duffel with half his life in it, and his beaten-up sneakers splash against the concrete in front of the pristine apartment complex.
He takes an elevator to the fifth floor and steps off, his petite form shivering from the unusual chill lingering in the spring air.
He hears footsteps approaching him from down the hall and doesn't even bother looking up, his mind muddled and clouded over from the events of that day. He feels hands on his shoulder and is greeted by the scent of discreet cologne.
"Hey, look at me," a calm voice commands.
Izuku's lips tremble, and his gaze wavers as he meets dual-toned eyes.
"I-I... Shouto, I can't even," Izuku struggles, his face etched with pain. "I don't even know where to start. If you're going to s-start your I told you so's then I don't think I can handle anymore--"
"You know I wouldn't do that," Shouto cuts in easily. He steadies Izuku and leads him out of the rain. "Let's get you inside, alright? It's getting pretty chilly out here."
Izuku nods absently, letting his best friend steer him into his spacious apartment.
Izuku's body stops trembling after he showers at Shouto's place and shuffles through his duffle bag, throwing on whatever pajamas he grabbed. He ends up settling on a t-shirt far too large for him and a pair of basketball shorts, despite the rain bringing a cold front through.
He's sitting on the couch now with Shouto pushing a mug of steaming tea across the coffee table and sitting across the sectional, opposite of Izuku.
Shouto's apartment is always crisp and clean, almost as if nobody resided there. The young artist has to wonder how often he's home.
Izuku reaches with shaking hands and grasps the mug, lifting it and sipping it soundlessly. He exhales shortly while asking, "Where's Hitoshi?"
"Working late tonight, so it's just us."
"Ah..." Izuku takes another long sip and burns the end of his tongue. Shouto and Hitoshi had gotten together fresh out of high school. Izuku finds their chemistry unique in its own way, but Shouto seems happy, and Hitoshi treats him well. Shouto and Hitoshi are rather quiet about their relationship, but they're content.
Shouto Tokoroki is one of the very few people who can relate to him; both of them were thrown out of their homes at such a young age because of their sexuality. Shouto didn't have much guidance once his older brother left their household and both of his other siblings stood in the background when Shouto's father tried to beat the gay out of him. It was a past that they both shared, and seems to strengthen their bond.
They are both in some of the same classes, although fine arts is a minor for Shouto while it's Izuku's major. The other man is majoring in business.
"Talk to me, Izuku."
Izuku sets his mug down, and his face pinches.
"What can I even say? You already can piece it together."
"He's such a fucking prick," Shouto hisses in disdain. "That's why I wanted you to stay away from him. I wasn't trying to be the pissy little brother because he was dating my friend; I was worried he'd hurt you. And he has. He has no regard for anyone but himself and I'm honestly surprised he didn't pull this shit sooner."
"He probably did, and I just didn't see it," Izuku murmurs quietly. "Or at least, I didn't want to."
Shouto frowns deeply.
"He was just... so casual about it all. I never saw a problem with us. Our sex life was perfectly healthy. We went out whenever it was possible, given my job and our class schedules. Well..." Izuku bites his lip. "My last job, at any rate."
Shouto's brows rose. "You lost your job?"
"They laid me off," Izuku corrects, gulping down more tea. "Said business was getting too slow, and some of their other stores were closing down, so they needed to do some layoffs."
"You've been there for four years though."
"To which they responded exactly, you make the most. To keep their payroll in check, they cut me loose."
"Shit," Shouto says, running a hand down his face. "Shit, Izuku. I'm so sorry."
Izuku throws himself onto the couch, lying on his back while putting his hands over his face. He wants to cry again—ugly crying while looking at himself in the mirror. Instead, he exhales slowly.
"I don't understand why my life keeps blowing up in my face like this. I did everything for Touya. Yeah, he got me away from my parents, and I'm grateful. But, Shouto, I did so much. I kept that house in order, I paid all of the bills, I bought all of the stupid toys and outfits to appease him, I cooked, I studied, I worked, I put up with him running off for days, dealt with his shady friends--I mean, what more could I have done?"
"You could have handed him your own beating heart in your hands, and it wouldn't have been enough," Shouto counters, a grim expression on his face.
"He said I was too dull, too ordinary."
Shouto snorts.
"You're anything but that and you know it."
Izuku laughs, but it sounds empty.
"I don't know, Shouto. I don't have men lined up for me. Dating never came easily. I was attacked from all sides just for being who I am," Izuku folds his arms over his chest. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I've got no place to live, no job, I'll probably get kicked out of school since I'm already so behind on my tuition."
Izuku turns and meets Shouto's eyes, adding, "Do you know I haven't painted or drawn anything in months besides in class? Do you realize that is so unlike me? It's like... everything that fuels my passions in life is being snuffed out. Murphy's Law, or whatever."
"Don't say that," Shouto jumps in sternly. He stands up and sits near Izuku. The greenette sits up and scratches the back of his head, his eyes drifting elsewhere.
"Listen, this isn't your fault. My fucking brother put you in this situation. For right now, you stay with me. I've got an extra room that's just being used as a spare. We can be roommates, I know Hitoshi won't care. He likes you. It'd be a win-win situation. Plus, it'll give you some wiggle room while you try to find a job."
Izuku's eyes water, and he bows his head, pressing a hand to his mouth.
"I don't want to put you out like that. I'm sure Hitoshi and you like having your own space. I don't want to be the broke, struggling third wheel."
"You won't be. You're my best friend, and I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."
Without hesitation, Izuku responds, "Of course I would."
"Then there's no problem. If you want your own place down the line, I completely understand. Until then, just stay here, alright? We're comfortable around each other, and you're probably the only person besides Hitoshi I'd live with."
Izuku can't express in words how grateful he is. Instead, he leans and wraps his arms around Shouto's shoulders. Shouto stiffens for a short moment before relaxing and returning the embrace. He's now used to Izuku's affection and doesn't shy away from it.
"Thank you so much," Izuku whispers. As he pulls away, he points a finger and says, "This is temporary, okay? Until I get established with a new job."
"Fine," Shouto sighs. "What'd you have in mind, anyway?"
"I dunno," Izuku answers honestly. "But I'm starting the hunt tomorrow after class. This city has to have something that'll suit me and meet my financial needs."
"Worry about it tomorrow. Right now, you deserve to relax. Hitoshi won't be home for another few hours." As Shouto says this, he stands up, wanders over to the kitchen cabinets, and produces a bottle of authentic sake. "Are you in?" he asks.
Izuku's shoulders sag, and he doesn't even hesitate as he replies, "Yes."
Words flow around his subconscious, but Izuku's head is pounding far too painfully for him to grasp them. The brightly painted walls and glaring sun shining through the large windows intensified any discomfort. Several abstract photos hang on the baby blue walls, and art supplies are organized throughout the large, welcoming room.
Izuku's head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and he sits back on his stool, a canvas displayed before him. He wishes he were in one of his lectures so he could close his eyes and lean back. He's never one to slack off, but Izuku is fucking hungover beyond belief.
Thanks, Shouto.
"Not my fault you drank half the bottle," Shouto whispers, and Izuku doesn't realize he's mumbling aloud.
"It's probably mine," a deep voice drawls next to them, and Izuku turns and meets a pair of lilac eyes. Hitoshi Shinso leans forward in his stool while continuing, "You were pretty insistent, though."
Izuku just shrugs.
"You know, a few sips of beer, and I guarantee that hangover will be gone."
Izuku blanches and Shouto rolls his eyes.
"Don't encourage him. He's exhausted."
Izuku smiles, despite the pain lingering in his chest.
"Good morning, everyone! I trust your weekend was eventful. " A voice booms out, causing Izuku to wince.
A chorus of good mornings rings through the air, and Izuku hopes that by the time the next class comes around, the aspirin he had taken earlier will have kicked in enough to get him through the rest of his busy day. He had a lot of ground to cover in finding a new job.
Toshinori Yagi stands in front of their entire class with a bright smile. He is a kind man who has had his own shitty dealings in life. A car accident from years prior had left him for dead, but somehow, through comprehensive and reconstructive surgery, he survived.
In the grueling process, however, he lost so much of himself. He was once a burly man with a stride that would have stopped you in your tracks. Now, he was a man with a frail exterior and looked almost skeletal due to the severity of his injuries. Still, he continues to smile.
Izuku wishes he had that type of perseverance. He actually really likes his professor.
"So, this week, we'll be focusing on portraits done in real-time. While I'm sure most of you have done this before, it always helps to have a model to work with, a muse, if you will. This can inspire when it's difficult to conjure up an image alone. I know a few of you have struggled with this."
Not Izuku. He is a wonder when it comes to portraits. He's drawn Touya so many times, and he's probably got six sketchbooks filled with every possible feature his ex could possess.
"Today, I'd like to practice how you respond with a model and how it progresses your skills."
"A model?" Shouto asks aloud, his lips forming a thin line. "I'm terrible with portraits. I'm not half bad with scenic landscapes or objects, but people are... difficult."
"Given this isn't your major, I don't think it'll be a big deal. Besides, I wouldn't mind trying something different. God knows my brain needs different."
Mutual murmurs rose in the room and Mr. Yagi turns to the door and waves his hand, beckoning someone to step through. As the door opens, Izuku hears several students gasp, including some women who blush and hide their giggles behind polished hands.
A young man, possibly his age, walks through the threshold to the middle of the room. He crosses his arms and stands in a black tank top and a pair of tight, black jeans with studded combat boots. Izuku swallows heavily, and at the same time, feels a strange tingle running up his spine and into his fingertips.
The man has spiked, ash-blonde hair and sharp and defined features such as his jaw, cheekbones, and lips. His body is built like someone has taken a picture of his face and slapped it onto a model: broad shoulders, a chiseled chest, strong arms that flex as he crosses them, and even beneath his tank top, Izuku can make out the outline of his abs. Tattoos adorn his upper arms, and Izuku can see others poke out beneath his clothing.
What truly captivates Izuku is the narrowing set of ruby eyes. They're the most memorable color of crimson he's ever seen.
Have mercy.
"This is Katsuki Bakugou. He's volunteered his services today to assist each of you so you can reach your fullest potential."
"More like dragged," the ash-blonde, Katsuki, mutters with a scowl. A collective wave of awe can be heard, and Katsuki just rolls his eyes. "Yeah, hey, what's up?"
Mr. Yagi sighs and waves his hand with a flick of his wrist.
"We'll focus primarily on Katsuki's face first, and then move on to his body. I'm sure you've all done this before, but I'd imagine it's been quite a number of years. You'll get rusty if it's not your preferred art style."
"Shit," Shouto swears, and Hitoshi just sighs and shakes his head. Muttering something along the lines of, "Unbelievable."
"Wait, you know him?" Izuku whispers, clearly confused.
"You can say that," Hitoshi murmurs back, but doesn't elaborate further. Hitoshi's mysterious persona is starting to grate on his nerves, but he drops it.
Izuku doesn't realize he's blushing, and for a moment, he's unaware that a pair of red orbs are honing in on him. The greenette clumsily adjusts his stretched canvas, and he can't quite place why he feels so uneasy and on edge.
It's confirmed when he hears someone bark, "You like what you see?"
Emerald orbs slowly rise, and both Shouto and Hitoshi's lips form a thin line. As Izuku meets Katsuki's gaze, he lets out a short gasp.
"Ah, um, I m-mean--" Izuku stutters, and dammit, he's drowning. He adjusts his glasses while trying to save himself. "I'm just... getting a profile on you b-before I begin outlining the sketch."
"Uh-huh," Katsuki says lazily, grinning. His smile is something sinful, like Izuku should respectfully turn away. Instead, the ash-blonde winks at him and takes his place at the center of the room. Izuku has done this before, especially with nude models, but he isn't prepared when Katsuki begins stripping out of his clothes, and there isn't a damn ounce of shame on his face. Cocky.
Despite his embarrassment, Izuku feels a strange tendril of creative energy flowing through him almost instantly when their eyes connect. He can't remember the last time he felt such a surge of adrenaline flow through him with the insistent need to create.
Using that as fuel to rid his mind of the clutter that's burrowed its way inside of him, he picks up an HB and graphite pencil, and his digits begin to work their magic. Around him, he can hear Mr. Yagi instruct the class to begin and be mindful of the set time. Izuku starts before the countdown and bites his lower lip as his clouded subconscious is suddenly so clear.
When his and Katsuki's eyes meet again, that artistic spark ignites once more and his pale fingers lead him down the path of pleasantly losing himself in the tracing lines, the abstract color, and a stunning pair of scarlet eyes.