#prince todoroki

Izuku stifled a gasp as he was led through ornate double doors into the grand ballroom of the royal palace. Even if this was a masquerade, if his ruse was ever going to work, he couldn’t be gaping at everything he saw like the poor village boy he still was at heart. He needed to blend in, to act like he belonged here among these richly dressed people, like the opulence and elegance and grandeur on display before him was his normal.

“Careful,” Tenya, a royal knight and one of Izuku’s friends from his many adventures as well as his escort that evening, warned in a low voice, speaking out of the side of his mouth so as to disguise the fact that he was speaking at all. “Don’t let anything give away the fact that you’re not one of these people. I don’t need to remind you of how dire the consequences will be if you’re caught.” 

“You don’t,” Izuku replied. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Tenya warned, and moved off to attend to his own matters, leaving Izuku to himself to enjoy the party.

And what a party it was. This cold midwinter day marked the birth of King Enji of Endeavor’s youngest son, Shoto, sixteen years prior. The king had spared no expense for this masquerade, intending to celebrate this momentous occasion in a manner befitting the boy he called “his greatest masterpiece”, as well as present a reminder of the wealth and power of both himself and his kingdom to any foreign dignitaries who may have been attending the event in the hopes of securing a marriage alliance with Endeavor now that Shoto, the king’s heir, was of age. 

Izuku had simpler, much less political reasons for wanting to sneak into this party. He wanted simply to see the prince, just once. A lowly commoner such as himself was not even considered worthy to breathe the same air as the heir to Endeavor’s throne, whatever fame and glory he might have won himself in his adventures, and this might be the only chance he’d ever get to see for himself if the rumors he’d heard were true. He’d heard that the prince had one eye the color of the sea and one the color of a stormy sky, that half of his hair was as red as flame and the other half white as snow, that he was a powerful magic user like his mother and father, that he was tall and striking and his gaze as sharp and piercing as an arrowhead. Most of all, he’d heard that the prince was beautiful, but cold and distant, like a sculpture of ice, or perhaps the moon.

Izuku knew he was risking a lot coming here, but his curiosity was insatiable and impossible to ignore. Rumors weren’t enough for him. He needed to see. He needed to know.

As the night wore on, Izuku gorged himself on rich food and engaged in idle chatter while keeping mostly to the edges of the crowd, where he was much less likely to be spotted and immediately outed as someone who did not belong. Every few moments he would pause and scan the faces around him, desperate for even one tiny glimpse of Prince Shoto. But apparently he was so much of a recluse to not even attend his own birthday party, as there was no sign of him. Izuku tried not to let himself feel toodisappointed, and he threw himself wholeheartedly into the dancing once it began in earnest. Catching sight of the prince had been a long shot anyway, and he was determined to have fun despite things not going to plan.

“May I have this next dance?” a soft, cold voice asked some uncounted moments later. It had come from behind him, and Izuku whirled around, startled.

“My apologies,” Prince Shoto said smoothly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Izuku felt his mouth go dry, and all he could do was stare. Prince Shoto was just as beautiful as the rumors said, one half of his hair fire red and the other half snow white, one eye brilliant blue and the other stormy grey, an aura of power coming off of him in waves. The only thing that might have ruined the image was the scar around his left eye, partially hidden by his hair, but as far as Izuku was concerned it didn’t mar his beauty at all, only enhanced it.

Prince Shoto raised his eyebrows- one red and one white, like his hair- questioningly, and only then did Izuku realize that he hadn’t yet answered his request. Yet when he tried to speak, he found that his voice had suddenly failed him, and so he could only nod and allow the prince to lead him to a spot in the center of the crowd of other couples waltzing.

“Might I have your name?” Prince Shoto asked after a while.

“Ah, that’s a secret,” Izuku replied teasingly. In the back of his mind, he was astonished at himself. He couldn’t believe he was bantering with the prince, of all people. 

“I’d like to know the name of the person who I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of for the entirity of this party,” Prince Shoto insisted. “For all that you try to pretend otherwise, I can tell that you don’t belong here, and that intrigues me. I’ve been trying to get you alone all night.”

“Very well,” Izuku replied, stunned by the prince’s earnestness. “You may call me Deku.”

“I can’t imagine a person wanting to be called by a name that means ‘worthless’,” Prince Shoto remarked, effortlessly twirling Izuku when the moment came in the dance.

“Deku is the name of a hero,” Izuku insisted when he was reeled back into the prince’s side. This was the truth, as he had fought hard to make it so.

“My apologies,” Prince Shoto said, inclining his head. “I’ve heard tell of the great hero Deku. I didn’t realize I was in such illustrious company.” Izuku didn’t know how, but he could detect a trace of amusement coloring the prince’s voice.

“Not nearly so illustrious as yours, Your Highness,” he said.

“Shoto,” Prince Shoto replied. “Call me Shoto.” 

“Shoto,” Izuku echoed, breathless. Shoto pulled him close, and suddenly they were nearly nose to nose, breath fanning across each other’s faces on each exhale. Izuku longed to close the gap, however scandalous and improper it might have been, but before he could the orchestra ceased playing, signaling the end of the dance. Izuku felt his heart sink as Shoto pulled back, hand still clasped in his. 

“Until next time, Deku,” he murmured, lifting Izuku’s hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckles that he swore he could feel through his glove. Then he dropped Izuku’s hand and disappeared into the crowd. And if he and Izuku spent the rest of the party in the palace gardens, locked in a passionate embrace, well, that was no one’s business but their own.

A/N: A continuation of Day 21′s fic

Until next time, Deku. The words, spoken in a voice soft as velvet, echoed in Izuku’s head as he made his way to one of the chairs set out around the edges of the ballroom. He couldn’t get those few minutes spent with the prince out of his head, dancing with him, bantering with him, being told to call him by his given name. It was more than a commoner like himself could have ever even hoped to dream of, and after it Izuku found that he’d lost the desire to join in on any more of the dances. So now here he sat, on the outside looking in, wishing the “next time” Shoto had mentioned could be now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a hand, long fingered, slender, and beringed, appeared in his field of vision, and Shoto’s cold velvet voice said, “Come.” His tone was that of a person used to having their orders obeyed- firm and brooking no argument and leaving no room for any response other than deference- though Izuku couldn’t have refused him if he’d tried. He took the offered hand and let Shoto pull him to his feet.

Without saying a word, Shoto led him out of the ballroom, ignoring the whispers that went up in their wake at the sight of the prince leaving the ballroom hand in hand with some unknown person, and out into the hall. Izuku became increasingly more bewildered as he was led through winding halls, past grand but empty rooms and elaborately carved doors that gave no hint of what lay beyond them and palace servants in drab clothing who nodded differentially to Shoto as they passed, but something in him told him not to break the silence between himself and Shoto with his questions. Finally, they emerged out into open air- the palace gardens. The Queen’s gardens, to be exact, though they were said to be under the care of the princess both now and ever since the Queen had fallen mysteriously ill. They were just as magnificent as Izuku had heard it said they were, but taking the time to truly appreciate the beauty of the Queen’s gardens was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

“Shoto,” he said, turning to him as they came to a halt. “What-” His words were stolen from his mouth along with the air from his lungs when Shoto surged forward suddenly and kissed him, hard, driving him backwards until his back collided with the garden wall. The jolt of the impact drove them apart, gasping, but Shoto was quick to dive back in and capture Izuku’s lips with his own once more. 

This time, Izuku let himself get lost in the moment, let himself be swept away by the sensation of Shoto’s lips on his and the feeling of his hands, one warm and one cold, on his waist and his scent of campfire and frost until he was dizzy with it all. For a moment, it didn’t matter that he was a commoner and Shoto was a prince and the heir to the throne. All that mattered was the here and now.

Then, suddenly, Tenya’s warnings about the consequences if he were to be caught came crashing down into the forefront of his awareness like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown over his head.

“Shoto,” he said breathlessly, managing to pull away. Shoto’s only response was to take advantage of the change in angles by making a trail of burning hot and cold kisses down the column of Izuku’s throat, robbing him of his breath again just as he managed to get it back.

“Shoto,wait,” he said with as much force as he could muster, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, given the circumstances, placing his hands against Shoto’s shoulders and shoving him back.

“What is it?” he asked, heterochromatic eyes searching green ones, chest still heaving with rapid breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“What if someone sees us?” Izuku asked, fear making his voice waver. “What if we’re caught?”

“We won’t be,” Shoto reassured him. “Nobody comes out here except my sister, and she’ll have turned in for the night hours ago.” He leaned in as if to kiss Izuku again, but he wasn’t reassured. Somehow, the prospect of being caught by Princess Fuyumi, of all people, only served to ramp up Izuku’s fear even more. Word of this would almost certainly get back to the king if they were to be caught by her.

“If we’re found out, at best your father will throw me in a dungeon for making a mockery of him and the crown,” he said, putting up a hand to block Shoto from kissing him again, if only so he could have a moment to collect his thoughts enough to make him understand the danger they were in. “At worst, he’ll have me executed for treason.”

“A late night dalliance in my mother’s gardens could hardly be construed as treason,” Shoto argued, intertwining his fingers with Izuku’s and forcing his hand down to his side. He tried not to be hurt by the implication that this was nothing more to Shoto than a mere dalliance, a bit of adrenaline inducing fun that would be forgotten at sunrise. He knew that Shoto was merely arguing a point, that he felt the strength of the connection between them as surely as he did. 

“He could insist that I was angling for the throne,” he insisted. “Or trying to destroy your marriage prospects and therefore your chances of securing a political alliance that would strengthen the kingdom by seducing you.” Even as he said it out loud, he knew that it sounded ridiculous, but he feared those might be exactly the leaps of logic that King Enji might be capable of. He was not known for being a reasonable man.

“Deku, listen to me,” Shoto said solemnly, stepping close to Izuku to cage him against the wall once more, reaching up to cup his face between his hands and gently tilting his head up to gaze deep into his eyes. “Nothing is going to happen, I promise. No matter what, I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, least of all my father.” He spoke with such conviction that it was impossible not to believe him. And this time, when he leaned in to press his lips against Izuku’s in a soft, chaste kiss, he placed his life in his hands and let him, and lost himself in the moment once more.

Still have no idea what that thing on Todoroki’s left side is so I improvised