codominant | @ pacifisting

@ pacifisting

[a few hasty bandaids over a profusely bleeding wound, that's probably all this is — but it stems the tide long enough for things to return to almost-normal by the time Monday rolls around. Todoroki has, as expected, recuperated from his hangover in the cool, dark, silent and blissful solitude in his room and sworn off consumption of clear Russian liquids for the foreseeable future, and seeing Midoriya in the morning is... well]

[they don't talk about it. and he doesn't want to. hopes to never, in fact, if he's allowed to have his way. there are a few times throughout the week he thinks he feels his gaze lingering on him a little too long, asking questions he doesn't have answers to (or doesn't want to), pushing his lunch around pensively as he thinks of a way to broach the topic when they're alone]

[in that, too, he gives him fewer opportunities for a while. Uraraka and Iida, oblivious as they are, make for pretty good buffers]

[...until he can't anymore, until there's blood leaking from his nose and his swollen, broken bottom lip, his back planted into the asphalt of an evacuated street by a giant's fist he wasn't fast enough to dodge, knocking the breath and the consciousness right out of him]

[when he comes to after the fight is over and Musutafu is, once again, safe, the only color he sees is — ]

Mi...dori...

[his voice is rough with pain or maybe screaming, a part of his body warm that usually isn't. is this... weight?]

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[ It's the smile that gets him.

Todoroki smiles, of course. It's not nearly as rare or as fleeting as it used to be and Midoriya's endlessly grateful for that, for Todoroki having more reasons to smile and feeling safe enough to do so. This isn't the I find a dumb joke you made amusing smile, though. It's different, or maybe just the context is. Any time Todoroki's smiled at him, it hasn't been spread out on his sheets, lips kiss-swollen and hair soft, damp.

Midoriya takes a deep, fortifying breath and pretends like he's not coming apart at the seams. It works...adequately. Of course, as soon as he thinks he has a hold on himself Todoroki is rolling them, shifting their weight on the futon and it takes everything in him not to squawk like a lunatic until they settle. His body braces for— something, almost. Too many times practicing how to fall and get back up to not have a part of him reflexively moving, testing to see where he can brace his weight if he's pinned. It's unnecessary, as it turns out. Todoroki isn't rolling over on top of him; they're side to side and there's a leg, a thigh sliding up high and tight between his own and this time Midoriya does make a noise, a low oh of shock.

it's okay, Todoroki asks nonchalantly, like he doesn't look incredible like his thigh isn't dangerously close to where Midoriya's cock is very much starting to take an interest in what's going on here. ]

I— okay. Yes. This is— yes. [ Is what comes out instead of a more responsible we should really get some rest or an equally reasonable, and perhaps more likely sleeping in pants we came in is gross but I super don't want to get up. He'll figure it out. Right now, Midoriya hooks a leg around one of Todoroki's and tangles their feet together, using that to tug himself in closer to the bare line of his chest which he desperately wants to explore, so he slides a hand up between them, starting at his belly, tracing over it and the line of his chest with rough fingers. ] Are you okay?

[feels weird. feels good, is what he decides after a moment of Midoriya's fingers bringing up an alien, shivery feeling that he thinks probably precedes goosebumps or a winter chill half of him went immune to long ago — but not this. his body's reactive, alert, something new burning through him that isn't adrenaline or pain or the rush of a fight... it's just Midoriya]

[what Midoriya's doing to him, and the chest under his fingers vibrates low with a hum, accepting at first, and then appreciating]

Aa. [more than okay. it amazes him, really, how much this boy can make him feel, what he can change and inspire and actually give him room to act upon, the inspiration for ignition he finds himself drawn to, time and time again, with both calm and ferocity]

[he rolls forward, soft and slow, and when their hips lock — ]

[well. there's another smile this time, but it's sharper, edges that reflect the way his eyes darken with something hungrier, pupils dilated to drink in every nervous fidget, every thought that crosses his mind before he acts on it, finding it all so legible like this. could they have had this sooner? why did he push him away? he's too tired and too focused on this to remember]

I wanna touch you. [his voice is husked with that something else now, smoky and kept low like a fire to keep only them warm. no underwear — he didn't give him any, at least — so when his fingers slide beneath the elastic waistband of his pajamas he finds only skin and muscle, pressing down until fingers dig into the meat of a cheek and give his ass a firm squeeze]

[it pulls him even closer, drags him against his body, friction sparking as he basically forces Midoriya to grind his dick against the flat of his thigh — ]

[and Todoroki sighs like he's the one feeling the relief, like he'd been too pent up without it that now he can just melt into his embrace, antagonize all the scrapes and bruises along this scarred body leaving him tender; he swallows hard, and then busies his mouth again... with a kiss to his temple, mouth unoccupied, just in case he decides to speak up and tell him to stop, slow down, take it easy]

[someone should. if he gets his way, he'll be chasing all those noises Midoriya can make all night long.]

[ One for All makes him faster, stronger, more durable than before he had it. Before, Kacchan would knock him to the ground his knee would split like a bruised peach and his mother would worry.

These days, Midoriya takes a hit, rolls and keeps coming up; he doesn't know how to do anything else now that he's capable of it. That same dogged determination extends into everything in his life: his friendships, his school work, his hero work. It is, he's realizing, going to extend to this. It's one thing to know that Todoroki enjoys this as much as he does, but it's something else altogether to have Todoroki's thigh pressed tight between his legs, the way he's looking at Midoriya like he wants to eat him alive. This isn't something he can be the best at, objectively, but this something that he can learn how to be extremely good at, for Todoroki's sake. Practical application, maybe, rather than book knowledge and — he's doing it again.

I wanna touch you, Todoroki says, somehow so certain about what it is he wants, how he wants it, a million things that Midoriya's sure he'd take ages to decide how to even ask for. Todoroki just...says it. Swallowing, Midoriya leans in to brush their noses together contemplating another kiss, laughing faintly. ] You are. So much right now.

[ It's like Todoroki has this uncanny sense about how, exactly, to make Midoriya the most flustered while wringing the least sexy sounds out of him as humanly possible. The hand sliding down gives him a moment of pause; he's absolutely not wearing anything under there and Todoroki's hand just — oh, yeah, okay, he can totally be cool with that, doesn't make a startled mmh. He absolutely doesn't grind heavily onto Todoroki's thigh because he has some measure of self-control here. (He does, it's mind-meltingly great.)

Todoroki's injured. Midoriya's sure that if he looked, he'd find all the tender parts of him, the bruises and scrapes and places where Todoroki wears victory and survival in splotches of blue and red. He just got out of the hospital, it's late, and they're both exhausted, Midoriya should be the responsible one and say let's go to bed and talk about this in the morning or something else, but the problem is he doesn't want to go to bed or leave this til tomorrow. He wants to to coax more of those little sighs out of Todoroki, wants to grind himself against the muscled thigh pressed between his legs, wants to kiss him until they're both out of breath and then do it again. Truthfully, he can't recall the last time he wanted anything, anyone this badly.

This is, he figures, just another thing to give his all. Midoriya squirms until he manages to return the favor: a thigh pressed between Todoroki's own, giving him something to grind against in turn, and a scarred hand touches to the curve of his waist, the small of his back, traces up his spine until he can bury it in Todoroki's hair, using a fistful to gently tug him into another kiss, the firm certainty of it melting into eagerness and demand as Midoriya rolls their hips together, his low noise swallowed by Todoroki's lips. ]

[Midoriya isn't weak. he can't think of a single time in all that he's known him that he might've thought he was — at first too obsessed with his own problems to even notice him, and then broken open by him in a victory that ran deeper than a medal around his neck. he's pried him open with violence when he's needed it, gotten close to him with tenderness when he's needed that — and now it's some mix of the two he's never felt magnetizing them to each other, friction and heat igniting where two already-burning cores meet, just as it had in the arena]

[Midoriya, he realizes, is fully capable of pushing him off and laying him out of he wanted]

[the caution flag in his mind immolates into burning permission, a welcoming, a symbol of war; he gasps into the kiss when the favor's returned, ferocity in those hands, purpose in the attention against his now filled erection, exposed for the needy thing that he is as he rocks into him, craving more]

[he couldn't stop if he tried]

[eyes finally close with it, led by pure instinct over analysis, walls of strategy breaking down to simply feel, blindly and wholly in a way only he can make him do; the hand on his ass dips lower, tugs down pajama pants to the back of his thighs and scathes back up, palming along the line of his body. skin meets skin on their flat bellies as he surges, warm and smooth and dizzying]

[shouldn't be be above this? the son of Endeavor, enslaved to animalistic instinct, losing himself and his purpose to give into something so base, no matter how tired, how wounded, how achingly alone the touch tries to quell? not a single word his father's ever beaten into him can come close to making him reconsider this right now]

God, you feel — [praise that gets lost between their lips as he crashes like a wave upon him again, a low noise in his throat as fabric snags and drags along his groin; it's becoming a messy dance, chaotic without a beat, the push-pull of rutting against a body like this — Midoriya's body, opened up to him in a way he doesn't want to admit he's fantasized about when it's been only him in his room, out from under watchful eyes]

[there's heat on him, bleeding down onto his chest and a shoulder, making the room muggy and the places their skin touch sticky with humidity, and all he can think about is how much he likes it. then a hand sliding between their bodies, muscle concaving to let him pass, and he breaks their kiss wetly as fingers grope experimentally at where Midoriya's trapped in his pants]

[temerity growing, he pulls down the waist and wraps all of his fingers around him the way he would himself, a little clumsy, grip a little too snug; he's not ashamed to say he holds his own breath just to listen for the noise he'll undoubtedly make]

[ None of the research or reading could have hoped to prepare him for how much everything was. It's like everything is turned up to eleven until he's left feeling so much that he's not even sure how to begin to process it. When he's injured, adrenaline will kick in and leave his heart pounding but any feeling gone; this is that same heart thudding violently in his chest sensation except he feels everything all at once.

This isn't going to be enough, not really. Once won't be enough, not when there's no possible way to catalog every inch of him and he so, so desperately wants to. He could spend days learning the slope of Todoroki's shoulders, or the noises he makes if Midoriya presses his mouth here or there.

Once isn't going to be what Todoroki wants, either, though. Before, he might not have been certain about it but now, certainty is a heady sensation, almost as much as the sensation of Todoroki's hand palming the outline of where his dick is pressed against borrowed pajamas. A shocked nnnhhh, slips out from behind clenched teeth; idly grinding against the line of muscle that was Todoroki's thigh was great, but a hand was a thousand, a million times more satisfying.

Licking over his lips, he catches his breath and can't resist the urge to look down between them. He can't see shit, not with the covers hiding most of it, and like clockwork, there's a little mental note made; he wants to see as much as humanly possible next time, which means lights on. ]

I feel what?

[ He can guess at what Todoroki's going to say, but he wants to hear it, anyway, wants to commit every moment of this to memory.

Sex isn't a battle, but Midoriya realizes all too easily that he wants to respond to it like one. A noise had been wrung out of him; he wants to see what it takes to get them out of Todoroki in turn. This isn't something to be the best at, necessarily, but he certainly wasn't going to let Todoroki do all the hard work, either.

The first thing to fix is that he's not touching nearly enough of him at any given moment which means he needs to shift; the resulting shuffle isn't particularly sexy and he's hyper-aware of how warm it is under those covers but Midoriya is nothing if not stubborn. The hand he was laying on is dragged out until he's able to reach Todoroki's cheek, wanting to coax him into another series of kisses. The other hand doesn't bother with pulling pajama pants down; he slips it under elastic and angles his thigh to give himself room to circle his fingers around Todoroki's cock.

There's no lotion, there's nothing but sweat to smooth the way and abruptly Midoriya realizes it's not like his hands are soft. They're scarred, calloused, and rough; his hand goes loose a moment later. Instead of stroking the touch turns exploratory fingertips feeling out the shape of him, stroking over the wet tip and thumbing under the head lightly. He's not ashamed of the scars or roughness, but as he dares to press a kiss to Todoroki's jaw, his tone is lower, wry but not apologetic. ] Sorry. Let me know if it's too rough.

Good. Really good.

[well. his eloquence has taken a hit, the word sharp and sloppy in his mouth before he's robbed (thankfully) of the ability to say any more, each kiss gaining confidence and seeming to ever crescendo into what he can't quite reach yet, chased somewhere beyond the line of Midoriya's teeth]

[too rough, too soft, it really doesn't matter — anything would make him tremble and gasp when it comes from hands that have broken for him before, skin to skin contact running a shudder right up his spine that makes him flex and bend into the shorter boy with a desirous tenacity that leaves him lightheaded and more aching than any fantasy of this that's come before]

[stretching his head back to expose the tantalizing pale of his throat as Midoriya moves down, the light catches his visible swallow, the bead of sweat running down his jugular, the way it pulses hard with the beat as everything flows south, making him strained with a very different kind of tension than the norm]

Mmnno, it's— I like it.

[how rough it is. how rough he is, both of them wearing marks and wear, badges from previous victories — the evidence from how diligent and ambitious Midoriya is evidenced all over his body. when he's of sane mind, when they're back in a bed together, when it's next time, he's going to find every blemish on his skin and worship it with attention so slow and thorough it'll leave him broken down, a mess, his]

[there are wishes in him he's too inexperienced to articulate and too — tired (timid?) to act on, ideass that dip darker with bruises, more of that calloused touch, and his mouth elsewhere, but for now...]

I don't have anything. Maybe if you... [that thought trails off with his selectively bad vocabulary, hazy eyes searching for the words but inevitably falling back to actions again, as always; the hand not full of heat finds one of Midoriya's wrists and guides it up, parting his fingers before unceremoniously pushing two into his mouth. it's... not exactly the most erotic thing ever, more emphasizing pragmatism over appeal, his decidedly small mouth stretched around him and sucking up saliva from a lashing tongue — ]

[but the suggestion of it isn't lost on him either, darkening his features even more in the shadows]

[as he rears back, there's a crystalline line of spit from the tips of his fingers to lips already swollen but now shining wetly, trying not to wear every bit of surprise at himself he feels for abruptly doing something quite that bold]

Maybe that... will help. [kill him]

[ In a way he should expect that Todoroki doesn't necessarily need gentle to enjoy this. The both of them have dealt with so much that a few scrapes and bruises — while not nothing are still not the end of the world. The thing is, Midoriya's broken bones and been bumped, scraped and injured so many times that the last thing he wants is to hurt Todoroki in any way he doesn't want.

Of course, that concern goes straight out the window when he's reassured that no, Todoroki likes it, likes his too rough, too large hand. Midoriya wants to object or at the very least, ask if he's certain, but he trusts Todoroki. They've been through too much together not to trust him when he says he likes or doesn't like something. To do anything less was disrespectful for how far they've fought and come together. ]

Oh. Oh, um, that's good. [ Midoriya says intelligently, abruptly wanting to kiss the words out of his mouth as he says them and instead busies himself with learning the curve of Todoroki's throat, scraping his teeth over the bump of it, barely holding back on the urge to bite and kiss as much as he wants. He can't not when he's not entirely sure how much effort a hickey takes to make and if Todoroki could cover it up if he left one.

The hand on Todoroki's erection is guided up and Midoriya has a half-hysterical moment where he wonders if Todoroki's hair matches, which he's absolutely not going to ask, he's going to wait and see when there are lights. ] I could probably just— with your thigh, it's not the sexiest thing, I guess but I—

[ Those are his fingers in Todoroki's mouth. Did he wash his hands recently? He's pretty sure he did, but his hand was just all over Todoroki's erection. Midoriya has exactly two seconds where he has to reboot, needs a moment to gather himself up and take stock of the situation and then he's tracing wet fingertips over the swell of Todoroki's bottom lip, considering. There's a part of him that wants to— that just wants. Wants to fuck his fingers into Todoroki's mouth, wants to watch him take them in proper lighting, but that's for later. They'll have a later.

Right now, Midoriya takes a fortifying breath and shoves his hand down between their bodies again. It's a tentative set of touches until he figures out how best to grip him and then he's closing his hand, giving Todoroki a tight fist to fuck up into as he moves it, green eyes nearly all pupil as he stares. ] Super helpful. [ Midoriya's voice is a little breathless, a little shaky; he leans in and steals another kiss, dragging his teeth over Todoroki's bottom lip when they part again because he has an increasingly pressing question about logistics. It's probably not terribly sexy, but it's Todoroki's sheets and his pajamas and he doesn't want to get come all over them. ] I'm — do you have tissues, I don't want your pants to be, uh, dirty.

[ It's probably easier to get answered when he's not kissing the person he's asking questions to, but the dim light catches the shine of Todoroki's lips and the shadow of his nose and Midoriya wants so fiercely that he's stealing another series of kisses greedily. It's too much, he doesn't know his own limits. Todoroki's thigh is solid and hot between his own, his hand just the right amount of rough, his erection hot in his palm; everything builds up and spills over abruptly. Midoriya half-mashes his face into Todoroki's shoulder, riding his thigh and fucking into his hand gracelessly with a low, startled groan, spilling between them messily.

Later, he'll feel bad about it, probably a little mortified, really. Right now, he has a shocked moment where he stares, and then abruptly redoubles his efforts on Todoroki, smearing a messy kiss across his chin, tracing up to the shine of his lips. ]

[a smile — smirk? — tugs at his mouth where eyes flash with the thought to tease him, but he... backs off of that ledge, considering he's in no better state: needy, sensitive, hard as hell and practically pulsing want, somehow only intensified by fondness and his own embarrassment]

[there's no one else he'd rather be doing this with. inexperienced fumbles, letting himself be weak and overwhelmed — thoughts blanked and reduced to a slow crawl that's all Midoriya, Midoriya, his newly slicked hand tight around his dick and his body flush against his own and his tongue and lips and legs and cock and — ]

[and come, hot and wet in his hand, against his wrist, smattered across his own belly where the release had forced it, and all Todoroki has in return for him is going still and staring back]

[being kissed, and — ]

[a frown]

I missed it. [it's... more like a pout, really, disappointment in himself for getting distracted by his kiss, his... everything. he doesn't have time to linger in it when the hand on him quickens, making him squirm with heat and friction, his dirty palm slowly releasing Midoriya... only to go to the spill on his stomach and smear it, pressing semen-slick fingers into his skin in some filthy, possessive stamp while his hips rock, drawing a heady growl out of him]

[he doesn't seem bothered by the mess; at least, not right now]

Fuck, I'm so glad we didn't stay in the hospital. [not a sexy last thought to have before a blinding orgasm either, but this is who they are, really]

[tension pulls him along, balls tightening, shuddering hard at the height of it and his breath getting caught in a swollen chest, not quite as avoidant when it comes to pleasure being wrung out of him when he leans down to snap his teeth into the lobe of Midoriya's ear, letting him hear the shivery grunts that pull him back down as he slacks, spent and satisfied]

[he relaxes back down as if he's dipping into the high rather than finishing it, an afterglow washing over so intense it's all-encompassing, mind whiting out and refusing to come back down]

[jesus...]

Mmnn. [he sounds like a sated cat...]

[ Kissing him seems like the best idea at the time; not because he thinks that Todoroki's going to make fun of him or mock him for being the first to come but because it keeps himself from saying anything. He doesn't know what he'd say, lingering in the afterglow, warm and hazy, but it'd probably be ridiculous. ]

Sorry.

[ He doesn't sound super contrite, though, too caught up in making certain that he wrings an orgasm out of Todoroki in turn. The fuss about the mess doesn't matter anymore; he's already spilled between them and will have to get up and fetch something so it's just efficiency at this point to coax Todoroki's orgasm out of him, too so he only has to clean up once. It's the mention of the hospital that startles a laugh and a murmured I know, right? out of him, low and warm. He's too busy committing every inch of this to his memory: the press of teeth against his earlobe, breath hot against the shell, the noises he makes, the way his cock pulses in Midoriya's hand.

Given a few moments, he could probably be convinced into going again if it weren't for the more pressing matter of both of them needing rest and the fact that he's sticky with both sweat and come. Plucking at his pajama pants, Midoriya gently fits them back up over Todoroki's spent cock and then forces himself to push the covers back. ]

Be right back.

[ He doesn't give him a chance to protest, rolling to his feet a little unsteadily with his legs not wanting to cooperate, but a moment later there's the sound of running water and shortly after that he's coming back out with a warm washcloth. He's lost his shirt entirely, but the pants are still on, rolled up around the waist and damp like he'd cleaned the mess up as best as he could so he didn't have to change. He doesn't kneel right away; lit by the dim light from the bathroom and outside, Todoroki's gorgeous. He is, of course, always gorgeous but it's different, now. Before it was an observable fact: Todoroki was attractive and brilliant, and wildly powerful but their friendship was always the most important and Midoriya refused to risk that.

Now, as he kneels and pulls back the covers to start wiping the cloth over his skin, he lets himself look. ]

Want me to get you a change of clothes? Or some water?

[the sigh that follows that announcement is less pleasant, more petulant aa hazy eyes blink a few times, unseeing but for the blur of a retreating silhouette and the sharp, sharp light that floods and pierces. it'd be so easy to fall asleep while he's floating in the glow, suspended and squeezed out of his own body with his stamina ripped from him twice over, and he almost does — but exhausted or injured, he's always been a damn light sleeper, and only a flirtation with unconsciousness won't put him down when he hears his friend (friend?) return]

[fussy. the warm cloth feels nice but he's more sensitive now and bodily twitches when it goes low on him, making him thrum, loosened muscle shifting in the light, washing him out in pales but for crimson and a bright blue eye. if Midoriya lets his curiosity claim him under the pretense of thorough aftercare, he'll find that yes, yes his hair is equally dichotomous here]

[otherwise, he lets it happen. too tired to care, he would've slept in the mess anyway and then regretted it so he'll appreciate Midoriya's efforts later, but right now, there's a more pressing issue — one he announces when he grabs the forearm extended towards him and tugs]

I want sleep. [demanding...]

[but he's aware of that gaze. still hungry, not fully satisfied, something he can recognize because he's sure he's worn it himself, either privately or when no one was looking — how he realizes now that Midoriya must not feel too differently in his wish to roam and claim swaths of skin and breaths and secret exchanges of intimacy...]

[god, he's been an idiot]

We can do it again in the morning. Or more. If you want.

[he's too washed out for the pink of his cheeks to out-burn the light, but there's still a timidity to the offer in its staccato presentation]

[ The least he can do is make sure that when Todoroki gets to sleep, he's comfortable, especially if Midoriya himself is going to be saying there with him; it's just polite not to leave a mess. For all the lingering, appreciative looks stolen, Midoriya's hands are almost clinical in their motions. His hand moves in slow, firm drags of the cloth to get rid of most of the mess and then he neatly folds it up and settles out of the way.

He had to break Todoroki's hold to clean up the mess between them but once it's done there's nothing stopping him from touching to his heart's content. He could lean in and steal a kiss and it wouldn't be much of a theft at all because his feelings were returned. The certainty feels — nice. We can do it again in the morning. Or more. If you want. Like they're not both wiped, but Todoroki offers and Midoriya has a mad moment where he considers, that competitive nature flaring. No.

Besides, Midoriya's thrilled with the casual intimacy, in seeing Todorooki melted into a puddle on the bed and that weird sense of satisfaction that came with knowing he had something to do with it. ]

Pretty sure we're supposed to be taking it easy. [ That they're two of the three students least likely to do that goes unsaid while Midoriya lets his hand explore up Todoroki's arm, over his chest. It means a lot that Todoroki's even the one to suggest this, really. Midoriya doesn't point that out, listening to the steady breathing, tracing the line of Todoroki's profile in the dim lighting. Brave he thinks not for the first time and not for the last. ] I think one or both of us would probably fall asleep if we tired, and I want to be awake to remember everything.

[ He slides a foot over both of Todoroki's, tangling their legs together with a sleepy, pleased smile tilted up at him at the way initiating casual intimacy feels like a victory. ] Goodnight.

Mmn, [is the grunt that sends him off into deep, dreamless sleep, warmth and weight on his side that somehow feels foreign and familiar at the same time. his exhaustion works in his favor for sharing a bed in such close proximity with someone else for the first time; where normally his uncertainty and discomfort might keep him awake, might make him hyper-focus on the wrong parts of this, being completely sapped and sated means shutting that part of his brain off and just getting done honest to goodness rest]

[he doesn't squirm in his sleep, lays still and soft and peaceful, leaning perpetually into the comfort of another body, until a burn of sunlight starts to pierce into his eyelids, the curtains left drawn open]

[waking feels like slowly coming back into his own body, sore and tender but comfortably so — like after a hard fight full of victory or the rest after breaking some personal goal in the gym, full of accomplishments. there's breath fanning is skin that he leans away from to steal a gaze, Midoriya's repose easy and trusting, dark curls askew around his face, freckles burnt in the warm light. Todoroki feels his chest do something strange, heartstrings lacing around the organ and pulling taut as a corset, suffocating in its own right. the arm beneath that weight prickles numbly and he gives it a testing squeeze, all pins and needles, trapped beneath his solidity.]

[it pains him to wake him, but... there are places he wants to kiss on him, and he can't do it — I want to be awake to remember everything — with him asleep like this]

Midoriya. [it's low, meant to lure him back to reality rather than shove him into it harshly, his free hand raising to cup a cheek and run a thumb across his bottom lip]

[a princely gentleman, waking his lover from slumber — ]

Midoriya, come on. I have to pee.

[well. almost.]

[ It's laughably easy to fall asleep, but this is more like a coma. Exhaustion slides over him heavy and overwhelming and Midoriya has a few moments of consciousness and wondering if he's going to be able to fall asleep and then he's out. He does still move around in his sleep, squirming and tossing and turning. At one point he wakes groggily to realize someone else is in his bed (his bed?) but he manages to turn over, mashes his face into their chest and promptly goes right back to sleep.

When he wakes the next time, it's less groggy, no longer weighed down by a thousand things. He feels a hand cupping his cheek and is distantly aware of someone talking to him. One eye cracks open and he puts two and two together, smiling sleepily at Todoroki looking down at him. There's no moment of oh god, did we do that or concern. It comes back to him, and Midoriya stretches out like a lazy, pleased cat, lounging in Todoroki's bed until the other part comes back to him. He's not super tall but he is heavy and Todoroki's arm —

Ah.

He rolls over just a little bit and fumbles at trying to make room for him to get up and go, pressing a kiss against his bicep as he rolls away to free it. ]

You gotta come back, though. [ Midoriya rolls onto his stomach, face mashed into the pillow, hair a bird's nest as he levels a finger at Todoroki like he has any sort of authority here. ] Okay?

[ He wants to snuggle properly when they're both awake and can fully appreciate it, but he also wants this, a slow, lazy morning where he can bring Todoroki under the warmth of the covers and drowse for a while. ]

Edited (html bad) 2018-11-25 06:26 (UTC)

[... that smile, too, does something stifling inside of him, heart giving a desperate throb. nothing shows on his face but the sag of exhaustion and the bruises fading faster than a body would naturally allow, but his gaze does stay transfixed on it for a moment too long, mouth threatening to twist up by the time Midoriya's done his roll and tried to harpoon him down with his kiss]

Aa... so it's a bad time to tell you my home planet asked me to return soon? [a bad jibe, his rare moments of humor always lacking, but there's an attempt at shading the opinions of his classmates that he knows now, so drastically, differ from Midoriya's — or maybe always had]

[with the threat of loss behind them, what is there to do but embrace what remains?]

[he doesn't have the decency to make short work of it. there's business taken care of, but also a long look at the tub in warm collection, and an even longer one at his bifurcated appearance in the mirror, trying to find evidence on the outside of the change he feels on the inside and comes up empty. he even bothers to scrub his face to try and look harder — nothing]

[it's just like him, that force of nature in the next room over, to inspire (sometimes painful but always relieving) his change]

[when he returns to lift a corner of the blanket up and tuck himself against him again, the hands he wraps around him are clammy and cool from being under the faucet, his chest pressed to Midoriya's back, line of their bodies slotting together. it's so easy. his face presses at his shoulder, mouth tucked against his skin, embrace drawing him tight and flush — ]

Mine. [mumbled, a declaration made with deceptive passivity, vague at best but weighted all the same]

[ It's only being groggy and slow to wake that keeps most of his anxiety down. If he's too tired to overthink then he's less likely to freak out about this, and everything that comes with it. It's like he senses it, because a moment later Todoroki's making a dumb joke and Midoriya's so charmed and fond and warm that it burns out any hint of anxiety. ]

Tell them I said you have to stay a while longer.

[ Todoroki leaves, and Midoriya is left to himself for a few moments, shamelessly rolling into the spot he leaves behind. He's more awake after the laughter was startled out of him and now under the warmth of the blankets, he runs over every last moment of last night. There's no regret, not even a hint. He's nothing but happy. This is progress. This is something he can at least figure out how to navigate better than the awful silences and awkwardness. He still doesn't have any idea of how to do relationships, but that, too, they can figure out.

There aren't that many heroes with relationships that he's aware of, but it would make sense that they're kept out of the spotlight as much as possible. In the worst cases, it'd paint a target on someone's back. Would us dating do that to Todoroki? Then again, they both get into so much trouble that at this point their enemies are probably pretty shared. That probably shouldn't be comforting, but weirdly, it is.

Todoroki climbs in behind him, cool hands making his stomach twitch in, startling another laugh from him. Mine, Todoroki rumbles and Midoriya shivers, pressing back into him shamelessly with a little hum in return. ] Yours, huh?

[ One of his hands scoots down, finding Todoroki's and settling over it, still toasty from being under the covers. ] Good morning. I didn't move around too much last night, did I?

[a grunt in reply to the greeting, what's only a breath against his skin and a rumble, malaise drifting back over him with laughable ease; his personality is sedentary at times but nothing like this, how weightlessly he lets the sandman weight his eyelids and send him drifting off into soft desert dunes — and so the lengthy pause that follows the question could be because he fell asleep again]

...Dunno. [but, really, he was just trying to figure out his answer, one that comes in a low rumble, naturally deep voice gritting up] I never woke up 'til now.

[an accomplishment, maybe; a signal flag of just how worn to the bone he'd been, more likely. at the thought, his arms coil a little tighter, shifting opening his fingers beneath that rough and scarred palm so that they intertwine here, too]

Let's not go anywhere for a while.

[school, their peers, exams, field tests, any of it — it's too hard for Todoroki to turn off that pragmatic nature that puts goals first and everything else in compartmentalized little boxes to deal with later, if "later" ever even comes, and there's a desperation the way he feels the need to ride this wave of emotional initiative for as long as he can. what this means for them, what to plan for, how to cope with it — for one morning, he needs to not think about it]

[not think about how it fits into the life that's been mapped out in front of him, and how every act of rebellion only seems to pave it more — and the fear that whatever this is might be what finally trips him, regardless of how intentional it is, regardless of whether or not he wants it]

[ He could listen to Todoroki talk about anything if he sounded like that all the time. His normal voice is good too of course, but this, the low, sleep-warm voice is delicious. ]

Oh. That's good.

[ On multiple parts. Mostly he's just relieved that Todoroki doesn't seem to recall him doing anything in his sleep like kicking him, or nearly shoving him off of the bed. Maybe exhaustion hit him harder than he thought and he just didn't move all night? Maybe it was just contentment, the comfort of having him so close enough that he subconsciously stayed put. That's a nice thought, really, even if he doesn't articulate it. ]

's still early, nowhere to go.

[ Right? He's pretty sure they don't have anything pressing right now, but his phone will correct him if he's wrong. Right now is for this space between asleep and awake where Todoroki's warm hand curls in with his and Midoriya shamelessly tangles himself against the other that he can't tell where he ends and Todoroki begins. This is perfect. His shoulders round a little bit, curling so he can fit himself easier into the curve of Todoroki's body, snuggling in with a shameless little mm, as they fit together under the cocoon of the blanket. For a while, he drifts, listening to Todoroki's breathing, timing his own to the rise and fall of his chest unintentionally, content to linger half-awake, half-asleep.

But he's still Midoriya. He can't fall asleep properly because this is new and changes everything and his mind is working over all of the different possible scenarios. It's subdued, sure, but he can't bring himself to fall back asleep so he contents himself with stroking his fingers up and down Todoroki's arm, the motion self-soothing in a way while he runs over the entirety of the night and tries to figure out what it means for the future. ]

Edited 2018-11-30 03:14 (UTC)

[a pleasant sigh punctuates Midoriya's rhythmic petting, excess energy he thinks could annoy others, freneticism in him that Todoroki's long accepted, even sort of likes on its own; the need to constantly do is what carries him foward, and Todoroki admires it too much to really be envious]

[for a while, he just laps it up. it keeps him suspended above real sleep but that's what he wants anyway, a pattern that constantly takes him back up, collecting his thoughts in the same swirling pattern; Todoroki lulls down, presses his face up and into him, an unblemished cheek sliding across a freckled one — all blindness and sensation, his lips pressing across his skin, hair tickling, a calm electric storm underneath. he's back against an ear when his lips curve around it, teeth raking soft cartilage experimentally, something that could be playful if he were anyone else, if this wasn't just mapping uncharted territory]

[the thrum of his pulse beguiles him, nose sliding down the flex of his neck before he trades his mouth there too, open-mouthed kisses grabbing the taste of his skin until he's at his collarbone; hardness for hardness there, his teeth scrape softly, testing the limit of affection]

Can we start every morning like this? And not just the ones where I almost die.

[not that he did, but it's good (?) he can be so flippant about it already, right?]

[ 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. ]

Mornings and nights, and anything else.

[reactive. strongly so, even like this, and he should've expected it, planned for him to move and wriggle in his grasp, to not be content with just receiving affection like that but insisting on giving it too. sometimes Todoroki thinks Midoriya is so full of goodness that it insists on overflowing, and it's a comforting thought — that there's someone like that in the world, and he gets to hold him]

[he rolls, and it's better. Todoroki wasn't exactly lamenting the way his hips were being magnetically pulled towards the curve of his ass, but sharing a pillow with him and looking on as his pupils dilate and darken green eyes is better. a knee hooks around him to slot closer, bring him against the hard lines of his body, back arching with the upward travel of his hands]

[and he looks at him with a touch of enchantment that could be doubt on a bad day, eyes lidding as they travel the perimeter and landmarks of the expression before him]

...You really like me, huh.

[it isn't a question as much as it is a confirmation to himself, and he doesn't need an answer, evident when he pushes forward and tilts his head and draws him into a lingering, sweet kiss: Midoriya's bottom lip between his own and sucked, teeth — he seemed to like them — lightly biting it into a swell, and his hand pouring over the barrel of his shoulder, fingertips dipping into and over scars he's earned and lived through]

[fewer in his chest and even less on his core but he drinks all of that in too as a hand finds a hip and he pulls, demanding him flush against his body, against where he's starting to tent his pajama pants, more insistent than a lazy morning calls for]

[he knows he likes him, but now he wants to feel it]

[ It feels unfair that the breadth and depth of his feelings could be boiled down to something as simple as I like you when Todoroki is worth more than that simple saying. I like you doesn't even scratch the surface of how he feels about Todoroki, about how fiercely he wants to protect him, to see him grow into the hero that Midoriya knows he can be. Whether or not their relationship will continue past a few months, a few years doesn't matter: what does matter is right now. ]

Yeah, Todoroki, I really, really like you.

[ Midoriya will confirm it as many times as he can, as many times as he needs. Before he can say anything else he's drawn into another kiss, slow and sweet with a touch of teeth, melting underneath hands and lips. He goes pliant a moment, content to be kissed and pulled where Todoroki wants him but it's Midoriya and that complacency lasts only a few syrupy slow moments and then he's kissing back. He only has one free hand like this, but he puts it to good use, stroking it back through Todoroki's bangs, pushing them out of his face for a moment before they spill back down, skimming lower until he can cup the nape of his neck and hold him through another series of kisses, sliding his tongue between Todoroki's lips, his groan swallowed up between them.

When their hips press tight, his body has reacted just as much; Midoriya adjusts the angle just a touch and grinds against him with another low, stuttered groan shocked out of him, pulling away to breathe and laugh helplessly, tone teasing. ]

You really like me, too, huh?

[like hands carding through silk as the edges of his scar are exposed and hidden again, frustrated and tired wrinkles of his face smoothing as mismatched eyelashes flutter low and close to enjoy his kiss and his reactions, to shiver in his grasp as he emboldens, untamed body a riot in his arms as he sighs open and lets warm, wet heat flood him; he could do this for hours, and would, if other needs didn't demand his attention — if Midoriya's need wasn't so hard and obvious between his own thighs, pressed into the crevices of his own erection and not enough skin]

[it's a disappointment when he's forcibly separated, eyes opening again and slow with those words sinking in, relinquishing rational thought to lethargic hunger. when they do — ]

...Hmph. [a pale cheek darkens, a flush of boyish embarrassment given overcompensation when he rolls, seizing up those scarred and callused hands and pinning them above the thick curls of his head, flex and stretch of long muscle pinioning him over Midoriya's body, an act of retaliation; it does nothing to defend him against the accusation where he straddles the hard body beneath him, leaving muscled thighs spread over his lap and pulling a sigh out of his mouth as it finds its partner again, brief and fleeting, before he peppers kisses down along his jawline]

[some punishment]

I'll show you. [laced fingers squeeze, an act maybe meant to encourage its recipient or pacify himself, and like this he begins kissing his way south, taking lovebites from his throat, his collarbones, the ever-broadening depth of his chest where, somehow, a part of him has made a home; he pauses at scars, kisses each one he finds on his journey along his sternum, especially thick clusters of freckles drawing his attention]

[ Midoriya's dedicated a non-insignificant amount of time to learning how quirks work, how they can be used, how they affect each other. He's filled notebooks upon notebooks with scribbles and sketches and wants to do the same with Todoroki. He wants to spend ages studying him, which really isn't very sexy necessarily, but he doesn't attempt to hide that it's what he's doing, either.

The flush of one cheek, the way Todoroki's body moves, the way the light plays against his skin and the lean, long line of him, Midoriya memorizes every bit of it with wide eyes, equal parts appreciative and a little in awe at being allowed to see him like this.

It's instinct to strain against the hands holding him; Midoriya pushes at them but can't move without using his quirk, and that's a thrill he didn't anticipate. He might be stronger than Todoroki physically with the addition of his quirk but like this, he's pinned neatly and knows if Todoroki wanted he could probably freeze his hands to the bed. That also shouldn't be as hot as it is, probably. ]

Yeah? [ It's less commanding or challenging and more breathy encouragement as Midoriya squirms underneath him. Every so often his arms flex like he's fighting the urge to push up against the grip, muscles bunching and then releasing. The press of lips against scars is sweet, the bites a sharp counterpart that leaves him squirming. Near his ribs, Todoroki grazes sensitive skin and laughter bubbles out of him; he hadn't realized he was ticklish there, but he is. Through residual giggles: ] Are you gonna let me touch you back later, or-?

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@ pacifisting

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I RETURN and 1/2

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