#tododeku

I FINALLY DID IT

It’s late, but i don’t care tbh

They’re still my best boys ヾ(=`ω´=)ノ”

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long silence! Early Jan I got shipped to my sister’s house to help babysit and then interstate travel got banned and hasn’t been lifted even now so hi, I’m still stuck. But more importantly, I have a big request

Remember the Shouto plushie challenge I did in 2019?

I’m doing this challenge again in reverse on twitter so I really need your help again to give Todoroki a comfortable Izuku plushie bed

Jove on Twitter

Every likes, retweets, quote retweets and replies will count as
a plushie each so you can give multiple plushies to Todoroki.
I really want to give him a sea of green and freckles deeper than the previous one. I’m begging you!

Winter’s chill nipped at Shoto as he headed home for the night. Just because he wasn’t bothered by the cold didn’t mean he wasn’t awareof it. Nor did it mean that he wasn’t aware of the ways it might affect other people, especially those close to him. Namely, in this case, his husband. The joints in his arms and hands were permanently damaged from how many times he had broken every bone in them using a quirk that, at the time, had been too powerful for his body to handle, and Shoto knew from long experience that the cold made them stiff and painful. He allowed himself a moment to feel bitter that someone he cared so much for was suffering from what many people would consider an old person’s ailment before he was thirty, but there was nothing to be done for it now but try to help ease Izuku’s pain however he could.

To that end, he made sure to turn up the thermostat in their shared apartment as soon as he arrived home. That done, he went into the kitchen and switched on  the kettle, preparing a mug of soothing chamomile tea, which he knew Izuku liked to drink to wind down at the end of a long day, as the kettle’s heating element got to work. Lastly, he plugged in the heated blanket that Izuku kept folded on top of the couch so that it would be ready and warm for him when he came home. Then he settled in to wait, holding the freshly brewed mug of tea between his hands, occasionally applying bursts of heat to it from his left hand to keep it at the perfect temperature.

A few hours later, Shoto heard the scrape of a key in the lock on the front door, and then it swung inward and Izuku stepped through it. He moved gingerly, wincing and grimacing as various aches and pains made themselves known, flexing his right hand down by his side, held slightly behind his body as if to hide how much it was bothering him. With anyone else, it might have worked, but Shoto knew him too well, and his focus immediately honed in on the gesture.

“Here,” he said, getting up from the couch to intercept Izuku at the door. “Sit.” He sat him down on the couch and tucked the heated blanket up around his shoulders. Thrusting the mug of tea into his hands, he added, “Drink this while I go and run you a hot bath.” Izuku accepted the mug wordlessly, wrapping his hands around it and letting out a sigh when the heat from it seeped into his aching joints. He didn’t speak, but his eyes said, Thank you.

You’re welcome, Shoto’s answering smile replied, and then he went to run the bath he had promised. He ran the water hot enough to steam, and added epsom salts to ease the ache from Izuku’s sore and tired muscles. By the time the bath was ready and Shoto went to fetch Izuku, he had finished his tea and was dozing under his blanket.

“C’mon,” Shoto said, pulling him gently to his feet, letting the blanket fall in a heap on the couch. “Your bath is ready.” Izuku nodded and let Shoto lead him down the hall to the bathroom. Once there, he undressed and got into the bath, letting out a contented sigh as he sank slowly down into the hot water.

“Make sure you stay in there until the water’s cold,” Shoto told him. “I’m sure you’ll need lots of time to soak all your aches out.” Izuku nodded and rested his head against the wall behind the tub, his eyes drifting closed. Shoto turned and made to leave the bathroom, intending to let his husband enjoy his bath in private.

“Oh, and Izuku?” he asked as a thought occured to him, pausing in the doorway and turning back toward him.

“Yeah?” Izuku asked.
“I understand why you feel like you have to hide when you’re hurting from the people around you, but you know you don’t have to hide with me, right?” Shoto asked. “I understand, and I’m here for you, okay?” Izuku nodded, and Shoto, satisfied for the moment, finally left him to his bath. 

Once Endeavor’s work study group had reached the warm, ableit temporary, sanctuary of  the train, Izuku hunched in his seat to try to conserve body heat, blowing on and rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to warm them up. The late December air was bitingly cold, and Izuku was regretting bringing only a scarf in terms of cold weather gear to wear with his school uniform.

“Are you okay?” Shoto asked quietly from where he sat beside Izuku, nudging him gently with his shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” Izuku replied, clasping his hand together in his lap. “I’m just cold. We don’t all have temperature regulation like you do.” Shoto laughed quietly at that, causing Kacchan, sitting on the other side of him, to grumble something about how the two of them were ‘disgusting’. Izuku decided that it was best not to provoke him with a response or to point out that he was often just as bad with Kirishima. 

Conversation among the three of them died out as they continued on their way to the agreed upon place that they’d be meeting Endeavor to start their work study. When the train finally came to a stop, Izuku was the first to rise from his seat, straightening up and preparing himself to once more brave winter’s chill completely unprepared. 

“Here,” Shoto said just as they were about to disembark. “Take my jacket.” In one quick, fluid motion, he pulled his arms from the sleeves of the jacket in question and draped it across Izuku’s shoulders as they stepped off the train and into the cold winter air, leaving him in just his uniform shirt and tie. 

“Are- are you sure?” Izuku asked tentatively, reaching up with one hand to hold it closed and keep it from slipping off his shoulders to fall in a heap on the ground.

“I’m sure,” Shoto confirmed with a nod. “You clearly need it more than I do. It’s like you said- cold isn’t as much of an issue for me as it is for everyone else.”

“Although,” he went on, reaching out to take Izuku’s free hand in his left, applying just the right amount of heat to chase to cold and stiffness from his joints, “you should really try to remember to wear gloves when it’s this cold. I know what the cold does to your hands.”

“Yeah, I know,” Izuku said with a sheepish smile, pulling his hand from Shoto’s grip to set the briefcase that held his costume down on the ground and pull his arms through the sleeves of Shoto’s jacket. A contented sigh slipped out of him as it settled in place around him and the residual body heat still clinging to it warmed him right up. “It’s just… I was in such a hurry to leave this morning, and I was so excited about the start of our work study that remembering to grab gloves completely slipped my mind.”

“Plus,” he added, clenching the hand Shoto had been holding into a fist to try and preserve some of the lingering warmth from his touch and shoving it into his jacket pocket, grabbing his briefcase with the other. “I wasn’t expecting it to be this cold.”

“It’s the middle of the winter, Izuku,” Shoto said, voice quiet to keep from being overheard as they approached where Endeavor was waiting for them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Izuku replied. “I’ll remember my gloves next time, I promise.”

“You won’t,” Shoto said with a teasing smile. “But that’s okay. You’ll always have me to warm up your hands for you.”

When Shoto answered his door, some time after retreating to his room following dinner, his social battery having been on its last dregs of power, he wasn’t surprised to find Midoriya waiting in the hallway outside it. They often studied together in the late evening, about this time, since he was the only one of his classmates that Shoto could spend time around after a long day of social interaction that didn’t leave him feeling drained. He was surprised, however, to see that instead of carrying his usual notebooks and class materials, Midoriya instead held in his hands a basket full of yarn and… were those knitting needles?

“What’s all this?” Shoto asked, stepping aside to allow Midoriya entrance to his room and closing the door behind him. 

“Knitting,” Midoriya explained, setting the basket he was carrying down on Shoto’s desk. “It’s getting close to winter, and you know how my joints don’t do well with the cold.”

“They become stiff and painful,” Shoto recalled. “Especially your hands. I remember.”

“Right,” Midoriya agreed. “Anyway, I thought having something to do with my hands might help keep them limber so that the usual negative effects of the cold might be minimized.” 

“You always have me to warm them up for you,” Shoto couldn’t help but point out.

“I mean, yeah, but you can’t be around me all the time,” Midoriya said. 

Watch me, Shoto thought but didn’t say. 

“You’ve got your own stuff going on,” Midoriya continued, “and I don’t want to be a bother, or for it to seem like I’m just using you for your quirk. I don’t want to treat you the way he does, even accidentally.”

“I can assure you, my father is the last person I’m thinking of if I’m using my quirk to help one of my friends,” Shoto remarked. “But that’s beside the point. You still haven’t really explained what the yarn and knitting needles have to do with any of this.”

“Oh!” Midoriya exclaimed, clapping himself on the forehead, his anxiety about his accidental insensitvity seemingly lost in his embarassment in the here and now. “You’re right. I haven’t.” A pause, then he said, “Ururaka is teaching me to knit.”

“Ururaka,” Shoto echoed. “Is teaching you to knit.” For some reason, he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around that concept.

“Yeah, apparently her mom taught her when she was little, and she’s always wanted to have a chance to teach it to somebody else,” Midoriya replied. “And it turns out that it’s a really useful skill. You can do all sorts of things with it once you have the basics down. I think I want to try crochet next. I mean, I’m sure the skills transfer. How different can they be, really? It shouldn’t be too hard to find good tutorials online…” He trailed off into muttering.

“Midoriya,” Shoto interjected gently, feeling a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry, sorry!” Midoriya yelped, flinching like he expected to be yelled at. “I didn’t realize I was doing it again.”

“It’s fine,” Shoto reassured him. “You don’t need to apologize. I was just wondering what any of this has to do with me.” 

“Oh!” Midoriya said, brightening up again in an instant, and Shoto wondered for the umpteenth time how he always had so much energy. “Um… it’s supposed to be really relaxing, so I thought maybe it could help you? You know, like if your anxiety is really bad and for whatever reason I can’t be there to help you through it? Plus I didn’t figure you’d ever been allowed to have hobbies before-”

“You would be correct in that assumption,” Shoto put in. 

“So I thought maybe this would be a good one to start with,” Midoriya went on. “I thought maybe we could learn together. I could teach you what I’ve already learned from Ururaka, and the next time we meet up for a lesson you could tag along. I’m sure she won’t mind.” Shoto found himself oddly warmed at the gesture, at the thought that Midoriya had set out to learn a new skill for his own benefit but was eager to share it now that he’d realized how it might be able to help Shoto tooo.

“Sounds good,” he said. “Where do we start?”

Movie night for Class 1-A always proved to be a lively affair. They always spent at least an hour before the actual start of the event chatting with one another about everything and nothing at all, preparing a smorgasboard of snacks, including an array of desserts made by Sato, gathering pillow and blankets to make a nest on the common room floor in front of the TV so that even those who didn’t manage to snag a spot on one of the couches would still have comfortable to sit, and arranging the couches so that they all faced directly toward the TV. Then, once the movie started and the lights were low, everyone would cuddle up with their classmates with heads on shoulders, legs thrown across laps, arms entwined, and so on. With darkness came the removal of the boundaries that usually prevented them from initiating physical contact with one another, and they got in each other’s space in whatever ways they were comfortable with.

Izuku saw it as an opportunity. While he and Shoto weren’t actively trying to keep their new relationship a secret, they didn’t exactly telegraph to everyone around them either. Shoto had expressed fear of the consequences that might come down on Izuku if word of it somehow made it to Endeavor, so they’d agreed to not tell anyone about it until they felt that the time was right. But with everyone cuddling up with each other during the movie, no one would think twice about it if they saw Izuku doing the same with Shoto. And because they’d chosen a horror movie this time, which Izuku was well known by now to not handle well, no one would bat an eye if they saw him clinging to Shoto like his life and safety depended on maintaining contact between them. It was the perfect set of circumstances.

That night, as the lights went down and the opening credits of the movie began to roll, Izuku made his move. As soon as he was sure that no one was paying any particular attention to where he sat on the nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, hip to hip with Shoto, he drew his knees up to his chest and pressed himself up against Shoto’s side- his left side, the warmer one- and rested his head against his shoulder.

“Scared already?” Shoto murmured, his tone teasing. “The movie just started.”

“Sssh, just let me have this,” Izuku whispered back. “This the only way I can cuddle up with you when there’s other people around without anyone thinking twice about it. Or, you know, putting two and two together.” Out of the corner of his eye, in the dim light from the TV, he saw Shoto’s gaze roam around the room, taking in their classmates cuddled up with each other in various combinations and hummed in understanding. 

“But the movie is supposed to be really scary…” he said, trailing off.

“Don’t worry,” Shoto replied. “I’ll protect you.” One of their classmates- in the half light, Izuku couldn’t see who it was- shushed him when his response was a little too loud, and they fell silent as the movie began in earnest. 

True to his past experiences with similiar such movies, Izuku found himself flinching and grabbing at Shoto with every scare. And true to his word to protect him, Shoto didn’t hesitate to gently turn Izuku’s head away from the screen and toward his own body every time one of the scares got him, letting him use him to shield his eyes from the sight of the danger, however artificial it may have been. And each time Izuku risked looking back at the screen to see if it was safe, only to be scared again, Shoto was quick to wrap his arm around him and hold him tightly. And if he took advantage of the darkness to stroke his fingers through Izuku’s hair and press light, comforting kisses to the top of his head, Izuku promised himself that no one else would ever have to know.

For a moment, as he and Midoriya walked side by side back to the dorms after classes were done for the day, Shoto thought he heard a distant rumble of thunder. 

“Did you hear that?” he asked, drawing to a halt.

“Yeah,” Midoriya replied. “Sounded like thunder.” His eyebrow drew together in the beginnings of a frown for a moment, but then he brightened up again another mere moment later.

“But it sounded like it was a long way off,” he said. “And look, there’s not a cloud in the sky.” Shoto glanced up at the clear blue dome of the heavens above their heads and saw that he was right. The sky was empty of even the smallest, most non threatening puffy white clouds. 

“Someone’sgetting rained on,” Midoriya went on. “But not us. Now come on, let’s get going. I want to get a start on the homework from today as soon as possible.” Shoto greatly admired Midoriya’s dedication to his schoolwork, even if it did sometimes make him worry that he was going to work himself to death. He smiled to himself and followed after his friend as they continued on their way back to the dorms.

They were about halfway there when there was a loud clap of thunder from directly above them and suddenly they were caught in the storm that they’d thought was a long ways off. Midoriya threw his head back and laughed, a bright, joyous sound that seemed at odds with the situation. Then he stood with his head held tipped back and his eyes closed, letting himself feel the rain pelting down on him. Shoto followed his lead, tilting  his head back and closing his eyes to take in the feeling of the rain storm. The sting of the raindrops striking his skin was slight but distinct, and the chill of the rain was a pleasant relief from the heat of the late spring afternoon.

After a few moments, he felt Midoriya’s hand in his, and he flicked his eyes open quickly. Midoriya gave their joined hands a tug, and Shoto let himself be pulled along. Instead of turning and running for the dorms like he expected him too, Midoriya ran off the path and onto the lawn that flanked it.

“Midoriya,” Shoto chanced asking. “What are we doing?”

“Dancing!” Midoriya replied enthusiatically. “Haven’t you ever wanted to dance in the rain?” Shoto couldn’t say that he had, but if Midoriya was leading, there were very few instances where he wasn’t willing to follow.

“Dancing” turned out to simply racing and leaping in exuberant circles as the rain pelted down on them and thunder crashed overhead. Soon they were both dizzy from exhileration as well as the constant, repetitive circular movement, found to his surprise that he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want this moment to end.

But it did. All too soon, the storm blew itself out and the sky cleared, and their moment of childlike abandon was over. Midoriya let go of Shoto’s hand and they continued on their way back to the dorm, side by side once again. Thanks to his quirk, Shoto didn’t have to worry about any lingering chill from the cold rain, but  Midoriya was not so fortunate. As they went along, Shoto saw him shiver and then immediately stiffen, trying to keep himself from doing  it again. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want him to know that he was cold, but he didn’t give himself time to think about it. Without giving himself the chance to worry about whether he might be crossing a line, Shoto slung his arm across Midoriya’s shoulders and pulled him against his left side, raising the temperature to bathe him in comfortable warmth. He continued walking after that, steering Midoriya along with him, and he pretended not to notice the way the contact made his heart race or when Midoriya sighed contendly and leaned further into his side. And when they were finally safe inside the dorms, he pretended that the touch starvation from a childhood deprived of any touch but that intended to hurt him was the reason why he was reluctant to let go of Midoriya and have the contact between them end.

Izuku caught his breath, feeling his gut twist with fear and horrified awe as he watched Touya rise into the air, propelled upwards by concentrated blasts of blue flame, the same technique he’d seen used by both Endeavor with his flames and Kacchan with his explosions

“He can fly?!” he cried aloud, to no one in particular, at least as far as he could tell. He could sense the presence of other people around him, but he couldn’t see them. The only person he couldsee was Shoto, across the battlefield from him, struggling to his feet while bleeding from a dozen nasty looking wounds.

Up above their heads, so far that he looked like nothing but a tiny black speck, Izuku saw Touya cease moving and hold himself still, hovering in mid air. He swore he could feel his cold blue gaze on him, and he realized that he must have been scanning the battlefield below him, searching for… something. Suddenly, he dived, and Izuku realized what- or rather who- he was after a split second too late.

“Shoto!” he screamed, calling up One For All to launch himself across the battlefield toward him, desperate to reach him before Touya did, knowing what he would do to him if he got his hands on him. He was half a second too late, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of Shoto’s costume before Touya snatched him away.

“No!” Izuku cried, and gave chase, using Float to pursue Touya as he returned to the air with Shoto in tow. He still didn’t have a lot of experience using Nana Shimura’s quirk, but he didn’t care. He had to catch Touya before he reached the apex of his flight with Shoto. He knew with sickening certainty what he would do once that point was reached, and he was even more certain that he couldn’t allow it to happen. He couldn’t lose Shoto. Not like this.

“Give him back!” he yelled, putting on a burst of speed to get within shouting distance of Touya, doing his best to supress the sudden flashbacks he had to the last time he’d been in a situation like this. Touya suddenly jerked upright and came to a halt, hovering in place, his fingers curled menacingly around Shoto’s neck.

“ ‘Give him back’?” he asked mockingly, parroting Izuku’s words back at him. “Alright then. Catch.” With a strength that was surprising, considering his thin, seemingly close to emaciated frame, he gripped Shoto by the collar and hurled him into the space between himself and Izuku, whereupon gravity immediately took over to pull him toward the ground far below them. Izuku moved quickly to intercept him, but his relative inexperience with Float proved to be his downfall- he didn’t know how to brace himself against impacts in midair, and when Shoto slammed into him, the jolt of the collision drove them apart, and though Izuku reached desperately for Shoto as he began to fall again, his hand closed on empty air. Then, in one final act of malice, Touya hurled a fireball at Shoto as he fell. He screamed in agony as he ignited with fire not his own, and his plummeted to the ground, burning like a phoenix as he fell. But unlike a phoenix, he would not rise again.

“Shoto!” Izuku cried, sitting bolt upright in bed. Beside him, there came the quiet rustle of sheets, and then Shoto’s arms were around him, drawing him gently back down onto the bed.

“Ssssh,” he whispered in Izuku’s ear, his warm breath tickling his neck. “It’s alright. I’m here.” A broken sob clawed its way out of Izuku’s chest, and he rolled over to cling tightly to Shoto, his overactive amygdala refusing to let him accept that the nightmare was over until he could hold the man he loved in his arms and feel him breathe and know that he was okay.

“It’s alright,” Shoto whispered, rubbing soothing circles on Izuku’s back as he cried. “It’s alright. I’m here. I’m okay.” Izuku choked back another sob at that, this one of relief. Shoto continued to rub his back and murmur reassurances, the creature comforts he was in desperate need of in that moment, until at last he was able to regain his composure. 

“Nightmare?” Shoto asked softly once he’d calmed. 

“Yeah,” Izkuk whispered hoarsely.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shoto asked, running his fingers through Izuku’s hair.

“No,” he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around Shoto and leaning further into the protective circle of his embrace. “I just want you to hold me.”

“Fancy seeing you here,” Shoto said teasingly, striding up to the agreed upon meeting point for the joint mission between the Endeavor Agency and Team Idaten, where Izuku was waiting for him. The green of his costume blended with that of his hair and eyes, complimenting and enhancing it. For the hundreth or perhaps even the thousandth time over the course of their relationship, Shoto was reminded of how head over heels he was for Izuku, even after years of friendship, then romance, and now marriage.

That sense of deep affection driving him forward, Shoto curled his fingers around Izuku’s and pressed a kiss against the back of his hand.

“Hello gorgeous,” he murmured, looking up at Izuku through his lashes.

“Sho, we’re at work,” Izuku hissed, pulling his hand out of Shoto’s grip. His cheeks flushed, making his freckles stand out sharply against pink tinged skin.

“If I can’t flirt with my husband while we’re at work, when can I flirt with him?” Shoto teased.

“Not when we’re in public!” Izuku replied. “It makes me all flustered, and it’s embarassing! I have an image to uphold, you know. People expect All Might’s successor to be composed at all times.”

“Well, maybe I like seeing you flustered,” Shoto murmured, closing the gap between himself and Izuku. “Maybe I think it’s cute.”

“Shoto!” Izuku protested, stamping his foot like a child. There was humor glinting in his emerald eyes that suggested he was in on the game Shoto was playing. Soon, he burst into giggles, and Shoto couldn’t help but to press a kiss to his laughing mouth. Izuku didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, and even though they had seen each other that morning before leaving for their respective agencies, they clung to each other as if they had been apart from one another for days or months rather than mere hours.

“God, I love you,” Shoto said when they broke apart. 

“I love you too, Sho,” Izuku replied. “As I’m sure this”- he wiggled the fingers of the hand on which he wore his wedding band, hidden for the moment beneath his long white glove- “reminds you and the rest of the world of every single day.”

“Maybe not the rest of the world so much,” Shoto said softly, glancing down at his own bare hands and his silver colored wedding band gleaming in the afternoon sun, “but me? Absolutely.” He darted in to give his husband a kiss on the cheek before pulling back once more. 

“How long has it been since we’ve gotten to work together?” he asked.

“Too long,” Izuku answered, eyes growing misty at the reminder. “Not since you officially took over management and operations of the Endeavor Agency from your father.’

“And I’ve told you-” Shoto began.

“There’s a place for me there now that Endeavor is finally retired,” Izuku interjected, finishing a conversation that they’d had so many times that they each knew their lines by heart. “I know. But I like the work I’m doing with Team Idaten.”

“Thank whatever forces out there in the universe that allowed us to be able to do that work together this time around,” Shoto said.

“Better enjoy the opportunity while we have it,” Izuku replied, a gleam in his eye, and leaned in for another kiss.

Behind them came the roar of Iida’ engines, startling them apart. When they turned toward the sound, they saw him standing watching their antics with his arms crossed and a disapproving frown on his face. Shoto groaned internally and prepared himself for a lecture on respectful conduct and public displays of affection. Some habits, it seemed, Iida would never grow out of.

The silence persisted for a moment, until Izuku broke it by clearing his throat awkwardly, trying to dispel the tense, uncomfortable air that suddenly hung over them all.

“If you two are quite finished,” Iida said, fixing them both with a reproving glare, “I believe we have work to do.” Both Midoriyas nodded and followed after him as he began their joint patrol and debrief, both thinking it wise not to mention that he was often just as disgustingly flirtatious with Ururaka when they worked together, if not more so.

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.