Google: how do I get my neighbor to stop changing in front of open windows
Google: how much are blinds for 12’’-144’ windows
Google: how to send neighbor curtains without being rude???
Google: ways avoid looking out your own windows
Midoriya was going to have to delete his search history.
Honestly, it wasn’t his fault, well, it was kind of his fault.
He knew no one had been living in this particular apartment for around a year, he knew his complex was poorly lit- a lightning bug next to a galactic star. He knew maybe he should close his own windows even though he didn’t have AC and someone had set the city on high broil since May.
On the other hand, this guy definitely had AC and could afford curtains for his giant plexiglass streak-free windows that were basically walls. And creep’s own cameras, didn’t he know people own cameras?
The housing complex ‘Deluxe Luxury Apartments West St’ sat next to a 25 story building just called ‘West Suites,’ a building that had a habit of blocking out the sun and making people feel self-conscious about their wallets.
Midoriya lived on the top floor of DLA West apartments and had several neighbors of varying degrees of advancing age and family size. He could hear the Takata's one-year-old expressing herself at that very moment in the way one-year-olds do.
On top of that, it was happening again.
Not the baby crying, Midoriya could handle kids and noise and the deal he made with himself to live in this city away from home. He feels his face heat up.
Was it polite to yell at someone ‘go in the other room!’? It was probably not polite.
His neighbor came home around seven every day, walked in the door like he was slightly lost and unsure of where he was. Sometimes he proceeded to talk on the phone briefly or make a beeline for the shower.
Most the time he went to his maroon colored bedroom and took his shirt off. Midoriya should stop looking, he asked google how to stop looking and start solving rubik's cubes while his neighbor changed.
The suite was basically one long window with the ostentation to show you almost every inch of minimalist blue blood aesthetic. The inhabitant seemed a little set adrift among the low couches and shiny silver kitchen appliances, but that didn’t stop him from taking his shirt off right in front of the giant glass windows.
Midoriya’s color rose, the boy unbuttoned his shirt, leisurely, controlled, with his long fingers working mechanically down. Leaning his forehead up against the glass wall the boy's chest rose and fell slowly, his eyes closed. Midoriya could just make out his tight expression and the lines of his abdomen.
He darts his eyes away and tries to order a rubik's cube from offline, shipping was 2.99 and he closes the page. His neighbor had one long scar across his shoulder blade and a little bright one across his ribs, not to mention the burn covering his eye.
Midoriya can’t help but search him, poised against the bright lights and something striking about his tense posture. He had vivid red and white hair split down the middle, a lean and tall body, taller than Midoriya at least. He wondered whatever happened to him to have those long webbed marks across his chest and red splotch across his left eye.
The marks and the red and the closed eyes, Midoriya numbly traces his own ribs, touching the spot where the scar would be, softly, lightly, in a trance. The fancy boy visibly heaved a sighed and Midoriya watches him turn.
Maybe he was in the mafia and that’s where he got his suite and his scars. Maybe he lost someone and lived alone with their entire fortune, maybe he was a good guy with bad luck.
His neighbor reaches down and starts kicking off his pants, Midoriya rolls out of his chair and onto the floor.
“Well alright!” He cheers to himself and puts his back to the window, “alright.”
Midoriya stands up to go ask Ms.Takata if she needed help putting Koemi to sleep, it had been a little over fifteen minutes of crying. Midoriya doesn’t spare a glance over his shoulder and lets the lone boy in his apartment fade from his thoughts.
Google: how do you warn your neighbor about showing up on ‘hot young males strips.voyeurism.com’
Midoriya definitely deleted his search history after ‘hot young Ukrainian men in your area’ ads started popping up on his browser.
Some nights Midoriya was too tired to come home and spot his stoic neighbor hanging out in his briefs. Sometimes he woke up from a blurry shapeless dream and saw him doing that anyway, sometimes he was on top of the covers with his eyes closed.
Sometimes Midoriya wondered why he looked so lonely.
He groaned into his smoothie the next morning, nursing a strange headache and a wobbling in his gut, “I’m thinking of moving down a level.”
Uraraka adjusts the visor on her head, “why?” She sipped on her own thick pink smoothie with four protein boosts in it, “you said that one fit the uh, rent.”
Midoriya looks down at his hands mutely, he shrugs, “it’s not great. No AC, sometimes the power goes out."
Uraraka holds up her drink and leans on her hand, “I hear that.” She sips and her black ‘Juice Bar’ shirt wrinkles. He looks back down at his hand, “but hey,” she grins and kicks him softly, “it’s right by your school and The Nightlife. That’s good, right?”
He puts his head on the wooden table and peers up, “Also, I think my neighbor might be part of the yakuza.”
Uraraka blinks down at him a couple times, “ooh,” she sips and itches her nose, “really?”
“Uraraka,” he scowls, “this is serious.”
“Kinda like a drama piece though, right?” She bats her lashes, “the young social worker battling the forces of underground crime living right next to him.” She sighs, “it’s not Yami is it? He’s like 70 and barely moving. Wait wait wait, please tell me it’s Mr. Yami.”
Midoriya doesn’t even look up, “nah, it’s the one across from me.” Uraraka just looks at him, “he lives in this giant palace by himself with a bunch of scars. I’m... suspicious. ”
He hears a small snicker, Midoriya flashes his eyes up, “kids our age don’t have thousand dollar suites!” Midoriya defends.
Uraraka boops his nose with a small flick of his wrist, his heart speeds up. She gives him a steady look, “yeah, but they have parents. ”
“Oh,” Midoriya blinks, “oh yeah.”
He contemplates the idea of his mom buying him a shining highrise to live in by himself while he broods off in the corner of his glass bedroom. He feels kind of like a misunderstood prince and makes a face as he gulps his cold smoothie.
Midoriya shifts in place and glances back as he feels two people approach.
“Why the long faces?” A crickety voice asks.
Midoriya watches Uraraka shoot up, her entire demeanor shifting.
Tsuyu slid in next to them with Iida on her tail, they both look ready for work, lida in a tailored business suit and Tsuyu in a bright red lifeguard jacket. Uraraka was breathing through her nose.
“Midoriya thinks he might live across from a mobster.” Uraraka says casually, Midoriya narrows his eyes at her.
“Mobster?” Iida reaches out swiftly, clasping Midoriya’s hand in his own earnestly. “You know my brother is on the police force, he can be there tonight.”
“No, no no no,” Midoriya jolts up, “it’s nothing, it’s weird.” A feeling of regret circles his shoulder tops, “he just has a bunch of scars all over and this whole big place to himself. But that could be for a lot of reasons.”
Iida frowns, “should we be worried?”
Midoriya shakes his head, “no really, it should be fine. I just get curious.”
Uraraka gives Tsuyu a new drink to try, one she made for fun during the slow hour. Tsuyu sips and glances at Midoriya with her huge dark eyes, “how do you know he has a bunch of scars? Enough for a yakuza.”
Midoriya’s mouth falls open, and then he closes it, and then he opens it again, “he uh, I uh, he’s a little reckless. With windows. And I see him.” His face heats up, they were all looking at him, “it’s nothing.”
They are still looking at him, he quickly juts his hands out, “but how about All Might today? Did you hear his speech last night?”
That veered the conversation off and lida brought up his internship and Tsuyu asked if Uraraka was coming to her swim class tonight and she just nods. Uraraka’s break ends and she pats him on the back as she leaves, Tsuyu gives him a wide-eyed stare and the rest of her smoothie.
Only lida pauses to put a hand on his shoulder and lean down, “I have an old TV if you need a distraction. Spying,” he put his finger in the air, “can be an addiction.”
Midoriya buries his face in his hands, “thanks.”
He lets his friends leave and thinks maybe this was the type of problem left to oneself.
Google: is spying an addiction?
Midoriya drags his feet getting home from class that night, this one ended at 7 which was good enough for him, but his next job would start up at 10 pm. It had the most tips and least amount of sober people, it paid the bills.
He gets home and curls up in his old recliner with his eyes barely open, close to a quick nap before the next round of activity.
He fumbles with his phone and set an alarm, his eyes barely catch on the windows across from him. Midoriya looks up to see if his neighbor was polishing a sword or hooking up with some other fancy person tonight of all nights. He was not.
Midoriya rubs his eyes, the boy was walking around his apartment with a towel in his hands, scrubbing at his dripping hair. Midoriya takes a sharp intake of breath, his neighbor did usually walk around his apartment after a shower.
He wanders in a circle before going to his fridge. Midoriya watches the dip of his knee as he bends down to pick a carton out. His stocky legs sprouted out of the soft material of a bathrobe and his skin almost wafted steam from the bath. He turns back around.
There was a long strip of skin exposed from the loose robe hanging off his shoulders and giving a mouthful of color against the white material.
Midoriya rubs his eyes again and can barely make out a different texture leading down his navel, a happy trail. Midoriya briefly wonders what color of the rest of it is.
His face heats up with the rest of him, his mind going blank as he presses thoughtlessly up against the arm of the chair. His neighbor ambles back over to his house plant and stands in front of the window.
His face is neutral and the rest of him is painted in little shower droplets, all leading down down his body.
Midoriya shifts in place and tries to reign his thoughts in, this was nothing. Just a shower. His neighbor runs a hand through his hair and the robe falls open a little more across taut skin.
Midoriya’s sleepy brain surges, he ruts up against the arm of his chair again and hopes no unknown entity can see him and chime in with a ‘that’s pretty messed up.’
His pants material is rough against him and he can only barely let himself think about the rest of the robe falling away, the stranger being pushed up against the window. Stripped, panting, with a faceless figure sucking on his neck, breaking that empty face into something gasping. Real.
He did look so lonely.
Midoriya reaches down to push down the bulge in his pants and remembers himself, he didn’t know him, the boy was just standing there. He pushes his boner back and tries to get his senses to calm into some sort of sleep.
He had work. He had classes. He had an almost naked boy across from him.
His dreams are just as bad as his consciousness and Midoriya takes a cold cold shower before heading out.
Google: blindfolds ?
Midoriya tore his eyes away from his large windows every chance he got, he didn’t go near them, he didn’t think about them. Well, maybe he thought about them a little.
He wanted to let the stranger live his life, and then he would live his own.
He washed dishes at the restaurant, he went to psychology and child development class, he slept, he worked at the bar. Repeat.
He saw his friends and watched them fall over each other about something or someone and he tried to download tinder for a while.
He saw his neighbor only in snippets and let himself only momentarily mull over what his name was and where he was from and where he got his body colored in different marks. Midoriya lets it all slide away.
Then he had the night off two weeks later.
He was off, his phone was out in front of him and he was happily well-fed after Mr. Yami spared him a plate of egg rolls for the night. Midoriya silently forgave the old man’s little yappy dog for a moment.
He’s reading up on local political news (All Might was running up against Endeavour again) when he caught the snippet of movement he had become familiar with.
Midoriya’s own apartment was too dim for anyone to get a good look into, but it was clear as day when his neighbor stalked out of his bathroom. Midoriya tucked himself into a ball and tensed, ready to roll away like a spooked hedgehog.
The wet hair look was back, the robe was gone and replaced by a fluffy white towel around his waist and a staggering movement to his gait. Midoriya was prepared to roll into perhaps a closet somewhere and play on his phone in the dark when he noticed a slight change.
His walk was heavy and uneven, he kept rubbing at his temples, Midoriya couldn’t help but see a blooming bruise across his left shoulder. He was almost stumbling to the kitchen as he turns to his stove top. He was off-balance.
The boy puts a pot on with some water to boil and noodles stuck out in random directions. That didn’t seem like a great cooking method, but Midoriya didn’t know enough about cooking to say.
He messed with the nobs on the oven and then turns back around, his knees twist stiffly, Midoriya traces the lines of his figure and has to look away again.
The boy meanders over to his couch and collapses down into the post-modern cushions. He rubs his eyes and then seems to try to flip through a magazine. Midoriya bites his lip, the boy was flipping through the magazine, his hair flopping down across his eyes and head nodding gradually onto his chest.
Midoriya tilts his head to the side, the boy was falling asleep. He gives a small smile, it was kind of cute. He turns back to his phone and tries to catch up on some of his child development reading.
He only glances over again for a moment, then his eyes fly open, the boy was still asleep, the red pot on the stove had a deep black gash in it.
Midoriya glances at his watch and then back at the boy, the pot had been there over thirty minutes, it was burning.
“Hey!” Midoriya bangs on his own window as if that would help, “hey!” He glances back and forth, the angry black stain growing across the surface of the pot, “you’re burning stuff!”
What if that catches on fire?
The noodles were sticking out, the pot was smoking, none of this seemed sanitary. Midoriya stood up and felt his mind tear back and forth.
Get up, he tries to will the boys sleeping figure, get up
His neighbor remains peacefully slumbering with his bruises and his scars and the magazine spread out across his lap. Midoriya fumbles for his phone and presses the buttons, would the police come? For West Suites they would.
Would they come for a ‘I was spying on my neighbor and his pot was getting a little charred.’
Midoriya dances from foot to foot and hopes the boys smoke alarm goes off, the red pot blackens and he sees a curl of smoke go up. No alarm seems to go off.
“Ah!” Midoriya runs out the door and starts running down the stairs, “come on, come on.”
He hears the blood pumping in his ears and imagines more scars being added to his lean muscled body like a bad dream, surely his neighbor didn’t deserve his apartment catching fire.
Midoriya sprints across the busy street and through the spinning glass door of the complex, he’s greeted by sharp fluorescents and a smiling face up at a front desk.
“Can we help you?” A lady in a blue blazer addresses him.
“Uw-a.” He starts over to the elevator and waves behind him, “please tell the boy on floor 17 that his pot is burning.”
The woman with a big red smile and pressed collar gives him a curious look, “excuse me?”
“I’ll be right back.” He hits the elevator button and then impatiently jogs in place.
“What’s the name of the person you are trying to visit?” She asks pleasantly as she reaches for her phone, “I can contact them.”
Midoriya racks his brain, “Um, his name?"
“We’ll need their name.” She says firmly.
“I don’t know?” Her face darkens and started to press some buttons. He dives for the stairs of an emergency exit. “I just have to get up there.”
“Wait one moment, we don’t let-”
“Sorry.” He shuts the heavy stair doors behind him and figures there had to be security in a place like this- and now probably coming for him. He is torn between going back and explaining himself or just running up the stairs to save time.
He starts to run.
Dashing up seventeen floors of stairs is not generally recommended, in fact, some would call it overkill, a little much, bad for the heart, a poor use of leg-muscle. Midoriya always knew he had been training for something like this.
By the time he reaches the thick yellow letters of ‘Floor 17’ he is pouring sweat, his t-shirt soaked through in the summer heat and his lungs hollering at him through a loudspeaker. He hauls the stair doors open and sees the only door in that hallway next to the elevator.
“Excuse me!” He practically falls over to pound on the wood, “excuse me!” He yells, “please get up, your food is on fire!”
He smells the scent of smoke and pounds harder, “hey!”
Midoriya hears a thump from inside and the sound of padding feet, they didn’t approach him but Midoriya could hear commotion inside.
“Dammit,” he hears running water and the sizzle of something probably being shoved under it.
Midoriya exhales deeply, “oh good.”
“I’ll be there in a moment!”
“Uh,” Midoriya looks in both directions, “well.” He tries to sort out the next moment before the next moment comes to him. He didn’t really need to meet like this. “That’s fine!”
He pivots on his feet but watches as the sleek brown door swings open, “oh.”
A young man with an even looking expression stood in the doorway, he seemed to have located his bathrobe and was now standing in front of him. They blink at each other.
Midoriya tries to flatten back his fly-away sweaty hair.
He clears his throat, “did you put the fire out?”
He raised an eyebrow, “do you work downstairs?”
Midoriya rubbed the back his neck, “not exactly.” He puts his hand up as if to wave, “I mean no. But that’s all I came for, I mean, the fire.”
This felt like one of the more awkward moments of his life.
The boy crossed his arms over his chest, he narrows his eyes, “you look familiar.”
Could he see him back? Midoriya gaped a little bit.
“I’m sort of,” he mumbles, “I’m sort of your neighbor.”
“I don’t have neighbors,” the boy says flatly, curiously. “We own the floor above and below this.”
Midoriya just points nondescriptly over to the side. “More like, distant neighbors.”
The boy snaps his fingers, “I’ve seen you at the juice bar. With the juice girl.”
Midoriya perks up, “yeah, my friend works there.”
He hums, “Right. And what are you doing here?”
Midoriya starts to back up, “Nothing! I just saw your food on fire and was like hey, I could stop that.”
He raised both eyebrows and then frowned, “how?”
Midoriya almost turned around and ran right then and there, instead, he sheepishly scuffs his feet, “I can see...a little bit of your apartment.”
“What’s that?” He leaned forward, “I can’t hear you. What’s your name?”
“Midoriya Izuku,” he bows slightly, “I live across the street.”
The boy’s eyes dart back over to his windows, Midoriya hears what he think might be swearing under his breath.
He regains his cool composure and turns around, “I am Todoroki Shouto.” He nods his head back at him, “It seems I was being careless. Thank you for coming to warn me.”
Midoriya stood completely upright, “it’s no problem.” He itched his nose, “I just thought someone should do something.”
“How much of my rooms can you see?” There it was.
“Not all of them.” Midoriya assures, the bathroom was basically hidden.
Todoroki makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “I told my father this was a stupid design.”
Midoriya glances up, “I’m sure…” He trails off, “I’m sure you could get curtains.”
Todoroki shrugs loosely, “thanks for this.” He looks away, “and I’ll think about that.”
They say a few more pleasantries and Midoriya feels like he’s walking in and out of some sort of dream where he ran into a wealthy person complex and warned them about losing things they could probably replace.
Todoroki thanks him again, he thinks about that for a long moment.
His neighbor does not buy curtains, Midoriya wonders if he forgot, Todoroki does not buy curtains.
Google: nearest laundromat?
Midoriya had a hard time processing his own erratic behavior, he buys an extra strong chai juice from the juice bar that morning and starts mulling over the plastic of the little outdoor tables.
Uraraka glances at him from behind the counter until her breaks starts and lida stops by.
Midoriya stares blankly ahead and thinks about burned pots and proper boys in bathrobes.
Uraraka pats him on the back, “hard night at the Nightlife last night?” She tries to ask slowly.
He shakes his head, “I was off…” He picks at his nails and water damaged knuckles, there were a lot of glasses to wash usually.
Iida sits down across from him, “if you need help studying for any of your tests, we’re here.”
Midoriya looks away and nods, “yeah. That could be good.” He doesn’t bring up anything else and lets Uraraka chat about customers and going to swimming practice.
“Aren’t you in the upper classes yet?” Midoriya asks slowly and finishes his chai smoothie (it was not as good as it sounded).
Uraraka looks away, “no. I’m pretty bad to be honest.”
Midoriya raises his eyebrows, “Tsuyu says you’re great.”
“That’s cause she’s a great teacher!” Uraraka pumps her fist in the air.
Midoriya is cut off from discussing Uraraka’s class choice and the person in particular who taught that class. He opened his mouth, and then felt some jostling of some chairs behind him, he only has a moment to look up.
“Excuse me,” Midoriya gulps down his tongue, Todoroki Shouto looks curiously down at him, “Midoriya Izuku, good morning.”
Midoriya sits up straight and shifts side to side, “Oh, hi,” he curls his toes, “how’s your pot?”
Todoroki raises both eyebrows. “I threw it out.” Midoriya looks away, “I just wanted to show you my appreciation for your effort.”
He puts down a card in front of him and Midoriya can only furrow his brow. “I really really don’t need that.” It appeared to be a 50-dollar gift card to amazon, he kind of did need that.
“It’s no problem, please accept my gratitude.” Todoroki looms over him stiffly, “I also saw you. And had a question.”
Midoriya might smile a little bit at the boy's disjointed tone. This was not the smoothness of a gangster he might imagine.
He glances up, “yeah?”
Todoroki points up, “that’s you? That’s your apartment?”
Midoriya feels his insides squiggle, like he was revealing himself and already telling the police everything.
“Oh, it’s this boy.” Uraraka whispers to lida and Midoriya shifts from side to side.
“T-top one, third window.” He explains slowly, “I’m just across the way.”
Todoroki nods astutely, like he learned something important. “That’s what I thought.” He tilted his head, “you haven’t seen anyone in my apartment, have you? Beside me.”
“Just you!” A lot of you.
Todoroki nods again and crosses his arms, “that’s good to hear.”
He leaves with his button-up white shirt tucked into nice gray pants and Midoriya is a little dumbfounded.
“Maybe he is yakuza.” Uraraka mumbles and Iida tells him to keep an eye out for anything happening in there. “Those pants are too nice.”
Midoriya just watches the back of his taut shoulders.
Midoriya doesn’t directly speak to Todoroki for another week. He saw him, he saw him again and let himself watch him strip off the harsh lines of business shirts and lay limply in bed.
Todoroki obviously didn’t seem to care, even when it seemed like he wasn’t just lying there. He hadn’t cared before either to be fair and Midoriya can keep an eye out for him.
Someone might be snooping in his things apparently.
He starts to worry about midterms again, about rent, and food and his mom's many hints to go buy more vegetables and have a proper sleep schedule, to do summer cleaning and do his laundry.
To be fair, Midoriya was running out of underwear, and he had already bought two new packs. He watched his basket fill up and gulped, there were no laundry machines in the building. Midoriya waits as long as he possibly could before his mom’s prompting and the clothes eating his bedroom floor up got the best of him.
He ventured out into the gray streets one Sunday afternoon.
Mom: please send me a picture of your house again when you get the chance! I want to see what rugs I can send you that would go with the floors!
His mom had been going to sales recently, exotic sales and weird sake tasting events, but she was an empty-nester, she could do what she wants.
And Midoriya just needed to do laundry. He sneaks out with two trash bags full of shirts and jeans, trying to avoid his downstairs neighbor Bakugou who might very well yell at him.
He makes it two blocks down, running through the blustery weather to stuff his clothes into the 17th St washing machines and then one dryer.
Midoriya exhales, getting to the building and having just enough change to start the cycle. He sits cross-legged in the corner, cracking open his homework and a cold can of Arizona tea. This actually might be a relaxing moment in steamy tucked away room with the steady chuga-chuga-chuga of the machines around him. Then he looks outside.
Midoriya flinches, the weather was darkening, ‘blustery’ turning into ‘oh no,’ welts of black low hanging clouds spread, a quilt of bubbly storm. Water begins to fall.
He shakes his leg as he anxiously waits for the dryer to finish.
“Come on, come on.” It beeps.
He tries to grab his clothes from the dryer as fast as possible, watching helplessly as one big fat raindrop falls one after the next.
He checks his phone: this was supposed to go on all night.
Midoriya gathers all of his clothes back into his trash bags and begins to hurry.
“UGh,” Midoriya feels the cold rain run down his cheeks, he hugs his clean warm laundry to his chest and pants as he runs down West Street. The puddles soak through his shoes and he has to wipe at his eyes as he runs.
He sees his front steps and a nice dry alcove ahead. Just as he darts over to it Midoriya feels his feet slide on the slick concrete, his hands slip and shoes skid out from under him, he watches in horror as the bag of clothes burst from his hands and he fell forward.
“Shit!” The trash bag tore open and the guts of socks and towels and boxers spread out around him like an arching rainbow.
Midoriya groans for a long moment and lets his head thunk on the ground, “of course.”
He takes a moment before lifting himself, getting to his hands and knees to crawl around and start picking up the spread-eagle assortment of clothes.
“Stupid bag, stupid street, stupid stupid,” he would have to wash them all over again.
“Do you need some help?”
The rain stops falling on his head for a moment and a slight shadow falls over him, Midoriya freezes and gradually tilts his head up.
He holds his breath, Todoroki Shouto was standing over him with a fine gray jacket, a handful of groceries and an umbrella positioned over the two of them.
“No trouble,” Midoriya clutched at his clothes, “my bag just burst open.”
Todoroki nods and then gets down next to him, Midoriya watches in awe as the knees of his dress pants soak through. “Here.” He hands him a bright red All Might sock and then keeps handing him things.
“It’s okay,” he tries to stuff all his things in the one remaining bag as quickly as possible but they keep spilling out, and dirtying the rest of the clean clothes.
“Come over to my place,” Todoroki says evenly, Midoriya jerks his head up, “I have a washer and dryer you can use.”
His mouth falls open, “I couldn’t.”
Todoroki picks up a handful of messy clothes, “it’s the least I can do.”
Midoriya feels like he was in an alternate reality where you really did get to meet your hot neighbors and they didn’t find you creepy.
“Wait,” Todoroki was already walking away with a pile of clothes in his arms before Midoriya can properly protest, “one moment.”
He is forced to follow him across the street with the rest of his clothes and then drip on the fine white tiles of the suite foyer. The front-desk woman gave him a tight look but doesn’t say anything as he follows Todoroki in.
“Good evening young master Todoroki, would you like any room service for the night?” He just shakes his head and Midoriya follows him into the golden spacious elevator.
He glances at Todoroki a couple times as they wait for the ding ding ding of the ascension, “thanks.” He finally says and produces a small smile, “this is really nice of you.”
He doesn’t meet his eye and shrugs ever so slightly, “we’re neighbors.”
Midoriya snorts, “my childhood neighbors would never have done this for us.” The Saito’s did not particularly like the Midoriya’s- they went to bed at 8 every night.
Todoroki turned to him faintly, bright-eyed, “I’ve never had neighbors before.”
Midoriya paused for a moment, tilted his head and then catches his bi-colored eyes. “Well, this isn’t a bad start.” He grins and Todoroki’s eyes go a little wide.
The door dings as it reached the 17th floor.
Midoriya leads the way and Todoroki follows him out, “Oh wow," he breathes, "This place is bigger from the inside.” He comments at the high ceilings.
“It’s nothing,” Todoroki almost sounded bitter, “it’s barely livable really.” He kicks an empty yet stylish umbrella holder.
“I’ll trade you for one AC,” Midoriya says ruefully and Todoroki flashes an almost-smile, they walk to the corner.
He shows him to a small closet where a washing machine was stacked on top of a dryer.
Midoriya ducks his head. “This is all really thoughtful,” he hands his clothes over, “I wish I could save your pot a second time.”
Todoroki chuckles, “no need. I’m going to be more careful in the future.”
Midoriya smiles back at him, they start loading clothes in, “If you’re going to be careful, I’d get curtains.” He says thoughtfully, “stop any cameras or people that aren’t me.”
Todoroki glances at him, “can anyone other than you see in?”
Midoriya raises his eyebrows, “I don’t know.” He hums, “Probably not.”
Todoroki finishes helping put the clothes in and starts to do some voodoo on the insides of the fancy contraption. “Cameras would be dumb. My father would just come in here and go through my things if he wanted to.”
“Huh?” Midoriya realizes they were talking about different things. Such as getting caught on some weird Hot Bois Voyeurism site vs strange paternal break-ins.
Todoroki shakes his head and the machine in front of him starts rumbling, “and to be completely honest, you seem trustworthy enough.”
Midoriya’s face breaks into a smile, “wait, really?”
He offers him a small smile back, “you saved my cooking, remember?”
He scuffs his socks on the wood floor, “see? Should have saved it three times.”
Todoroki chuckles and offers to make him something or order in, “we can get anything on the menu or take out from around here.”
Midoriya’s face heats up and Todoroki convinces him to just accept the meal. There were worse things he could do.
They talk about the street and the vendors selling fake Prada bags a block over and the time Midoriya got cornered at the bus station for his light-up shoes and had to walk home in his bare feet.
“If that happens again,” Todoroki set his jaw, “you should come to me.”
Midoriya snorts, “I was thirteen at the time. I think I’m okay. Plus, Bakugou doesn’t mess with me like that too much anymore.”
“Still,” Todoroki was focused on him, “I’d be happy to.”
Midoriya squirms on the couch and the order-in comes brings fried rice and all the spicy chicken they can eat. Midoriya starts laughing when Todoroki describes trying to order food for the first time.
His sister had to call the fireman in the end.
Midoriya contributes that he wanted to be a fireman when he was younger, “and a detective and an EMT and a racecar driver.”
Todoroki gives him a funny look, “what do you do now?”
He chews his chicken thoughtfully on Todoroki’s flat couch, “I’m a dishwasher at a restaurant and bar sometimes, and go to school at night.” He leans his head back, “for social work.”
“Social Work?” Todoroki was looking him up and down.
“Yeah,” He bounces slightly, “to help people. Really help them.”
Midoriya wasn’t sure what to make of the soft smile he gives him after that, “You seem fit for the job.”
He beams, “What do you do?”
He shrugs, “work downtown. Do some competitions.”
Midoriya raises an eyebrow and takes another bite, “What kind?”
Todoroki points at a matt on the floor, “Taekwondo.”
Midoriya’s mouth makes a small ‘o’, “those are what the bruises are from.”
Todoroki pauses and turns toward him fully, “did I have...bruises when we met?”
Midoriya’s face heats up, “s-sort of? I just noticed them. Sometimes.” He shuts himself up.
Todoroki laughs, a real laugh that reached his eyes, “my father will love to hear how visible we really are in his newest home business venture.” He shakes his head, “I hope it wasn’t too strange.”
Midoriya smiles gently, “I mean, I kinda of thought you were a mobster.”
“Mobster?” Todoroki laughs and Midoriya doesn’t even care it was a silly thing to share.
“Not that I think that now!” Todoroki was wiping at his eyes.
“I have a lot of expectations to live up to now,” Todoroki pushes his food away, “I’ll have to get a tattoo.”
Midoriya pokes him, “of a burnt pot.” They laugh together and it feels natural.
Todoroki shakes his head, “That sounds much better than what I actually do.”
Midoriya focuses on him, eyes straight on his smooth chin, “I’m glad it’s a sport and you’re not hurt.” He doesn’t mention the scars.
Todoroki looks away and grimaces slightly, “The competitions are annoying. I don’t think I’d do them if I could.”
Midoriya frowns slightly at that, “I’m sure you’re good.”
Todoroki gives a faint smile, “I am.” He pushes his food away, “I could show you a thing or two and stop anyone from stealing your shoes again.”
“I was thirteen!”
Todoroki chuckles and they talk about school and friends and Midoriya getting access to his AC if he really wanted it. Todoroki passes over his phone number for reference.
Google: what does a text with an upside down smiley face mean??
Midoriya started texting Todoroki Shouto. It started small, very small, with a picture of a dog outside the busy West St and a ‘??? Someones?’
They chase down the dog together.
Then it snowballed into who can get the worst pictures of each other from across the gap (Todoroki won with a blurry one of him lying face down on the floor).
They exchanged updates on their days and the smoothie concoctions Uraraka was making when she was bored at work and Midoriya introduced him to the local downtown pool. He figured he was giving him a real first-time neighbor.
Time passed faster than he would like, almost like a dream, almost like a teenage summer he had forgotten about. But it was still just a summer.
I’m going to die.
He buries his head in his hands, die of heat stroke. Midoriya was not having a great end of summer. As someone who lived on the top floor he was subject to the utter burn of thermodynamics: it all gathered at his place. And the city was being baked.
He texts Tsuyu.
Me: is the pool open yet? I may die
Froppy: it’s maintenance week :)
Froppy: sit in a puddle somewhere maybe, that’s what I do
He puts down his phone and glances over the gap, he makes sure Todoroki at least has boxers on before he texts him.
Me: you heading out?
Shouto: no? I don’t work today
Midoriya knew that.
Me: How’s your AC? :)
Me: soooo I could bring you watermelon or my new Heroman comic…
Shouto: just come over.
He packs up a small backpack and runs across the way, “air condition, air conditioning,” he begins to sing to himself and waves at Ito the front-desk lady before going up the elevator. Ito only flinches slightly, he just smiles.
Todoroki is waiting for him at the door in a thin white shirt he must have put on. He looked back and forth when Midoriya arrived, “Is it really that hot out there?”
He made a face, “just show me where the nearest vent is.” He shows him the sweat on his forehead, “We can talk then.”
Todoroki shrugs and lets Midoriya place his sticky body up against the cool waves of the floor vent.
Midoriya gives a contented sigh, “you sure do like it cold in here. Not that I’m complaining.”
Todoroki walks over and sits down next to him, “I like the cold.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Midoriya praises and Todoroki almost leans against him as they sit in amiable silence, Midoriya with his textbook and Todoroki with a regular book.
Midoriya spread out on the floor by the middle of the day, pressing his belly to the hardwood and drifting in and out of the words he was reading. The temperature outside reaches 44 degrees Celsius.
Midoriya starts to sweat again and takes off his dark green shirt.
The first paragraph of this chapter comes to him and then leaves on repeat, he had online homework to finish by that night. He texts lida back casually about his brother’s future house loan and almost falls asleep.
A soft thump comes from behind him, Midoriya rubs his eyes back open and feels an approaching presence. Todoroki walks back into the room and raises an eyebrow, Midoriya rolls over.
He stood in his bedroom doorway in his sweats and t-shirt, he nudges him, “Comfortable?”
He hangs his head, “it’s gotten hotter.” Todoroki hums in response and looks him up and down. Midoriya fidgets, “aren’t you hot?”
He shrugs, “I like the cold. But I can handle extremes of either I think.”
Midoriya rolls his eyes, “Mr. Unphased, never bothered."
Todoroki gives a slight smile, he was giving a steady look, “did you want to practice today?”
Todoroki was showing him advanced steps of Taekwondo since Midoriya had the basics of martial arts that Yagi had taught him.
Midoriya spread his limbs out, “Sounds too hot.” Todoroki snorts and nudges him with his foot, Midoriya glances up.
“Practice helps. For bus stop protection.”
He blinks, “When do you practice? I don’t think I’ve seen you do it in here.”
Todoroki furrows his brow together, “I do it at the studio.” He tilts his head, “have you been keeping that many tabs on me?”
“Uh,” Midoriya sits up and fidgets to the side. “It’s hard to not see, some.”
Todoroki knelt down, sitting loosely across from him, “Midoriya,” he says slowly, “how much of my house do you see?”
Midoriya looks away quickly, “we went over this.” He mumbles, “There’s a lot of windows.”
Todoroki looks him up and down again, “would you like it if I practiced in here?”
Midoriya’s eyes go wide, what did that even mean? Todoroki’s eyes were as unreadable as an ocean fog, steady and blank, plastered onto him.
“Do you,” Midoriya gulps, “do you wish you practiced in here?”
Todoroki had a calculating look, “perhaps.”
Midoriya holds his breath and something shakes on the inside, “I’ve only ever seen peeks, I swear, it’s inevitable.”
Todoroki gives a short laugh, “okay, okay, but practice with me. Then save your shoes next time.”
“Ugh,” Midoriya wrinkles his nose, “I’m not going to steal my shoes back. He’ll set my place on fire or something then.”
Todoroki crawls over to him and lazily puts a hand over his chest, “you’re not taking this seriously I see.”
Midoriya sniffs, “I was trained by the one and only All- ah!”
Todoroki flips him over and grabs him in a headlock.
“Come on!” He kicks, “It’s too hot.” He tries to struggle away from his armpit, “how are you not more sweaty?”
Todoroki opens his mouth to respond but Midoriya gets a foot under him and twists over to flip their positions, he wrestles him to the floor. “Not so bad.”
Todoroki expertly hits his solar plexus and Midoriya has to jump backward to regain his balance, he grabs Todoroki’s foot and drags the other boy toward him. It was less martial arts and more floor squabbling.
Midoriya grabs his hands and pins them to his side, “ha!”
Todoroki glances down, “Your pants are falling down.”
He looks down with his breath caught in his throat, Todoroki sweeps his legs out from under him gracefully and sends him crashing back to the floor, he pins his chest down with one hand.
Midoriya squirms, “That’s cheating.”
“They are falling down,” Todoroki says casually.
Todoroki reaches down and grabs the edge of his sagging sweatpants, “there.”
Midoriya goes perfectly still as Todoroki’s hands ghost over his hip bone, brushing over his exposed skin and dipping into his waistband, he drags the material up ever so slowly. His eyes crawl over him and he is far too aware of every part of him there was to be aware of.
They were both breathing heavily, Todoroki’s cheeks are flushed- probably from the brief exertion.
Midoriya still feels the brush of skin against skin. He remembers the nights with Todoroki’s robe sagging down and hands threading through his own hair. The nights he doesn’t mention, the ones where the lights were off and he thought he saw the slowest motions.
Midoriya was thinking too much.
Todoroki is pressing down on his chest and peering down at him, Midoriya commands himself not to arch into it or do anything else.
He almost swallows his own tongue, he sniffs, “It’s nice to have a neighbor who lets me use their place, even if they literally wrestle to the floor during it.”
Todoroki’s head was bowed, he still pressing his weight up against him. “That comes with the apartment.” His eyes flick up, “Along with the view.”
Midoriya’s eyes go wide and his heart pounds in his chest, Todoroki lets him up.
Google: closest lingerie shop?
Google: destroying all internet history ever
Something had changed, something had definitely changed, Midoriya couldn’t call it ‘common knowledge’ but he could call it something mutual. One of them had said something, one of them had their hand linger on the other’s skin a little too long.
One of them fumbled over his words and Midoriya felt the heat rising.
His insides were all twisted up and there was something coming at them like a freight train, he wanted, he wanted with a heaviness that lingered and dripped down his insides like candle wax.
“Todoroki,” he rasped the named, he prayed the name, he knew something had changed.
Todoroki still sent him pictures of the farmer’s markets and All Might memorabilia and blank faces he made at junior board meetings.
They go to the pool one last time for the summer season.
It’s also the night he gets the text.
He gets it after saying goodbye to Tsuyu and lida, after arguing with Bakuguo at the pool and getting dunked for it. After walking home with Todoroki without shoes on.
He feels like a strange silence comes over him, maybe he had started it.
Me: I can’t believe the whole season is over, and that I drank pool water
Shouto: do you always fight with Bakugou like that
Me: nah, I try to stay away from his ‘explosions,’ but this time just sort of happened
Me: Uraraka says he does it cause he likes me, which sounds like BS
Shouto: agreed, that sounds like bullshit
Midoriya raised his eyebrows, Todoroki rarely cursed.
Shouto: he just seems…
Me: I know, like a jerk haha
Me: but it’s cool, my mom says he’ll grow out of it- so there’s hope. Maybe.
Shouto: I would ignore him
Me: I do!!
Me: but who knows, maybe it is just the giant fat crush on me ;) he can’t stay away
Midoriya is joking, of course he’s joking, but his fingers shake slightly and his eyes dart other to the Todoroki complex, the lights were all turned on. Todoroki had sauntered over to window, leaning on it stiffly and frowning a hole in the wall.
Shouto: that’s not what a crush looks like
Me: oh. What’s it look like? :0
His heart pounds in his wrist.
Shouto: not that. Or at least for you
Me: heh, me? Okay
Shouto: I like to think we know each other, as neighbors
Midoriya chuckles and leans on his elbows, pushing his hair back with his free hand.
Shouto: see? I knew you would push your hair back
Midoriya lifts both eyebrows.
Me: you can see me????
Shouto: sometimes. With your lights on.
Midoriya turns around and starts to turn lights on in his small apartment, electricity bill be damned.
Me: there! Now we can send hand signs or make fun of each other’s bed sheets
Shouto: Ugh, I always knew that you could see my bedsheets
Me: they seem pretty boring to be honest, and all you do is sleep
He regrets hitting send, the teasing building up inside of him and pouring out like a sudden lightning strike. He racks his brain to make this less of an insinuation.
Todoroki seems to stare at his phone for a long moment across the way. He starts to type.
Shouto: is there something else you’d like me to be doing.
He writes and then erases five different messages that range from ‘playing video games’ to ‘anything else.’
Shouto: you know
The type bubbles seem to go on for a century.
Shouto: it’s a little unfair. You can see me at all times, and I can only really see you now
Shouto: and you’ve seen all my bruises apparently.
Midoriya shifts in place, he touches his shirt and then he touches his mouth, “would you like something more?” He says it out loud despite Todoroki not being able to hear him.
He can see his eyes on them, steady, small, focused.
Todoroki’s eyes were searing him from across the way, Midoriya’s hands shake, he plays with the end of his shirt and rides it up a little
Me: we could get even.
Midoriya slowly pushes his shirt up, revealing the scar across his stomach inch by inch, a fight he didn’t particularly want to talk about.
Todoroki was still watching, pressed against the glass and letting his phone drop. He felt the gaze drag over him, Midoriya throws his shirt across the room and sits there, chest heaving. Todoroki ever so slightly points toward his pants.
Midoriya shook his head but then started to slide the jeans past his hips compliantly. Todoroki was watching.
Midoriya’s skin started to prickle, what were they doing?
Todoroki was holding his phone up now, Midoriya has the state of mind to reach for his own. Hand trembling, brain put on stop as warmth starts to pool.
Todoroki was looking at him, really looking at him. He can feel his boxers start to tent.
Todoroki’s breath fogs up the window, Midoriya slides his hands down his body as he bites his lip, waiting for a response.
He watches Todoroki reach down and re-adjust himself in his shorts.
Midoriya reaches into his boxer shorts, he slides his hand over his heated length, almost desperate in his own hands, growing from just the feel of Todoroki’s eyes on him. He tosses his head back and gives a shuddering breath.
“Shouto,” he mumbles to himself and starts to pump his cock, “Shouto.”
He gives him a dramatic silhouette as he gets down on his knees, balancing on his lumpy reclining chair and gasping as he touched himself up against the window.
His breath hitches as he strokes quickly, grinding out puffy needy words and feeling his entire body gyrate against his palm. He imagines that he is the stranger in Todoroki’s room, pressing up against the glass and tearing at his slender neck with his teeth.
“Oh,” he lets out an expressive long moan and feels his Adam’s apple bob. He’s getting close.
Midoriya pauses when he hears his phone start to ring, Midoriya slits his eyes open and traces them back over to the other building.
Todoroki had the phone up to his ear, the other was distinctly palming himself, his eyes were fiery and mouth set in a straight line. He gestures toward Midoriya’s boxers and Midoriya sticks his tongue out slightly
He hears his phone buzz, the newest message flaring.
Midoriya takes his hand out of his pants reluctantly and sees the tail end of Todoroki running out of his room, Midoriya’s breath gets stuck in his throat.
“What are we doing…”
He sees a figure sprinting across the street and Midoriya scrambles to waddle to the front door. He hears pounding feet after a couple moments.
Midoriya reaches for the door and watches it burst open after he unlocks the knob, Midoriya’s eyes go wide.
He gulps, “I’m sure we’re barely fair yet.” He gets that off his chest and fumbles with his words like slippery marbles, Todoroki just pushes him against the wall. He practically growls.
Todoroki kicks the door shut behind him and yanks at Midoriya’s boxer shorts until they fall free from his hips. Midoriya gives a shuddering gasp.
“Thank God.” Todoroki stops to wet his lips and study Midoriya’s frame and leaking length bobbing in the light. Their eyes slowly glide up and meet, a long second pauses as the wallpaper digs into his shoulder blades and his body shivers.
They meet him in a furious kiss, pulse speeding in his wrist, vibrating, it’s a chlorine and sugar high, electric in his veins and lighting up every nerve in him. The touch is hard and sweet, with the crash of pent up tension pushing them together.
Todoroki slides his hand down his chest, feeling the indents of muscles and bone, dragging his fingers across the skin until he dips into the hollows of his pelvis. Midoriya is barely breathing, he’s all eyes and syrupy movements.
“Ah,” he chokes.
Todoroki takes him in hand, his skin rough and probing against his cock head, tracing every inch of the sensitive tip before starting to move the shaft. Midoriya’s eyes water and he moans at every movement.
Todoroki grunts wordlessly into his ear, biting the cusp of it and speeding up the frantic pace, Midoriya arches and Todoroki pressing down on his hip with his own hardness.
Midoriya thrusts up helplessly into his grasp. They grind down on each other and Midoriya digs his teeth into Todoroki’s neck until he gasps simple mixed drink words and lights burst behind his eyes.
He launches back into a sharp, heady, neighborly kiss.
Midoriya is sore the next day, sore and sleepy in all the right ways. His covers are a mess and he can smell something musky and thick in the air, eggs sizzle from the other room.
He slowly, gradually, rocks out of bed and onto his feet, he wanders into the kitchen.
He yawns, “sorry my place is like this.” He rubs at his crusted eyes and gestures to a couple piles of games and shoes in the corner.
“I like your All Might cookie jar,” He opens up his eyes to see Todoroki grinning at him in nothing but a long dress shirt. “Besides. It all looks like you.”
Midoriya sways to the counter, “twenty-two and cheap?”
Todoroki rolls his eyes and cracks another egg in the pan, “cute.” Midoriya bites his lip and fiddles with his hands.
“Yours doesn’t look like you.”
Todoroki rolls his eyes, “I would hope not.” He stirs the frying eggs, “or it would ideally be inside you again.”
Midoriya’s mouth falls open, “Oh my God.”
Todoroki grabs his hand and drags him over the counter, Midoriya climbs up and Todoroki catches him in a long good morning kiss.
The eggs end up burning a little much and Todoroki promises to buy him a new pan as well that summer.