[ Normally he might wonder if he's being too much. It's not that he's unaware that he is, effectively, overwhelmingly himself at even the best of times. He's too loud, talks too much, he's too enthusiastic when it comes down to what most people are used to or like but somehow not here. Here, surrounded by other people who want just as fiercely as he does, who are willing to go just as hard as he will. They're the best people and he is lucky, endlessly lucky, to have them in his life. Todoroki is firmly included in that group, carving out space in Midoriya's heart with fire and ice so easily that Midoriya is surprised by it sometimes.
While his hand trails back and forth Todoroki's mouth is busy, soft lips pressing against him like he's trying to work out all the spots that are going to make Midoriya squirm against him. It's endlessly effective: the scrape of teeth over an ear gets a shivered breath, the kiss against his collarbone followed up by another touch of teeth that makes Midoriya make a low noise in turn, almost a moan of approval. It shifts just as quickly, catching in his throat and turns into a helpless laugh in response. ]
Yes, please. This is good, but you not being injured is even better.
[ This is what everyone else felt when he was injured, wasn't it? That awful mix of concern and exhaustion they had to bury deep so they could keep functioning. Midoriya doesn't have words for it, or for how good it feels to have Todoroki alive to make dumb jokes in his ear, against his skin.
Midoriya rolls over to face him, sliding a leg shamelessly between Todoroki's thighs, an arm around the line of his waist to stroke up and down his back instead, leaving them face to face in the dim morning light. He's beautiful, even like this; maybe it's especially like this? Midoriya doesn't know but he does know that he wants this morning and as many after as Todoroki's willing to give. ]
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While his hand trails back and forth Todoroki's mouth is busy, soft lips pressing against him like he's trying to work out all the spots that are going to make Midoriya squirm against him. It's endlessly effective: the scrape of teeth over an ear gets a shivered breath, the kiss against his collarbone followed up by another touch of teeth that makes Midoriya make a low noise in turn, almost a moan of approval. It shifts just as quickly, catching in his throat and turns into a helpless laugh in response. ]
Yes, please. This is good, but you not being injured is even better.
[ This is what everyone else felt when he was injured, wasn't it? That awful mix of concern and exhaustion they had to bury deep so they could keep functioning. Midoriya doesn't have words for it, or for how good it feels to have Todoroki alive to make dumb jokes in his ear, against his skin.
Midoriya rolls over to face him, sliding a leg shamelessly between Todoroki's thighs, an arm around the line of his waist to stroke up and down his back instead, leaving them face to face in the dim morning light. He's beautiful, even like this; maybe it's especially like this? Midoriya doesn't know but he does know that he wants this morning and as many after as Todoroki's willing to give. ]
Mornings and nights, and anything else.