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Sweet & Baker Kisses

Chapter Text

He swore he saw something when he looked back. A ghost of a person, formed from the heat of the breath of the patron coming in right after them. Katsuki paused. Izuku didn’t notice he’d stopped and continued speaking in front of him on his way to the long line of people. Katsuki’s blazing eyes searched through the glass to find anything outside that told him what he saw was real, but nothing showed up.

He let out a breath and caught up to Izuku at the end of the line. One blink and he saw the ghost again, hidden behind his eyelids, but this time the figure was clearer: Midoriya Izuku as a small child, crying and bruised. Scared. Big green eyes that shone with unstoppable tears.

Katsuki’s hand slipped into Izuku’s, and he gazed into those same big green eyes when they looked at him with a silent question. They were harder than before. Still bright and shiny, but with hope and strength. Katsuki smirked, letting air out from his nostrils. “Oi, Deku.”


Katsuki leaned close until their lips touched briefly. His smirk grew wider at the glowing pink blush on Izuku’s speckled cheeks.

“Kacchan,” he muttered, looking as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t—but he smiled, and what it did to Katsuki’s chest he’d never understand.

“If you’re gonna give me that stupid cute look, you’re buying today.” Izuku laughed.

“Okay, Kacchan.”

Chapter Text

A heavy ball of nothing sunk in his gut at the same moment it lifted high off his shoulders, replacing the twisted confusion in his heart with feathery-light air. Shoto felt sick but the disorientation lasted mere seconds before he was back to one-hundred percent. He blinked rapidly, clearing his vision that had blurred for whatever reason, and coming toward him was none other than the person that had caused such a ruckus in his body:

Midoriya Izuku.

He must have realized it in that moment because his eyes widened and Izuku’s eyebrows knitted. “Todoroki, are you alright?”

“Ah—yes, sorry, Midoriya. I spaced out for a second.”

“More like five minutes. I’ve been talking to myself all this time! Are you sure you’re alright?”


Izuku laughed and god, it was music to Shoto’s ears. He set his lips in a thin line and patted the empty spot next to him on the bench. Izuku plopped down. Shoto wasn’t sure what to say next; he settled for folding his arms lest they reach out of their own accord and bring his dear friend into a hug.

He knew Izuku would not mind—he loved receiving hugs more than he loved giving them, but it felt wrong with what Shoto had just realized. He needed to tell him first.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Todoroki,” Izuku said. Considerate as always. He smiled, and then his hand was on Shoto’s shoulder and he couldn’t stop himself.

Shoto placed his hand over Izuku’s and all in one breath, said, “Midoriya, I’ve finally found the thing I’ve been seeking for my entire life, and it’s you.”

Izuku’s grin dropped and his cheeks, already tinted from the cold, darkened another shade. He clapped his free hand over his mouth and did his best to suppress adorable little giggles. “To-Todoroki, that’s so cheesy!”

“But it’s true. My epiphany came about—how long did you say you were you talking to yourself? Five minutes? Five minutes ago.” He paused. “And please, call me Shoto.”

Izuku took in a deep breath. “Okay, Shoto,” he began, trying out the new name. He bit his lip to keep himself from smiling and scooted closer to Shoto, turning his head when Shoto’s hand moved to cup his cheek. He knew how many thoughts were running through Izuku’s mind at that moment, the many questions he must have, the fears and doubts and the bright glimmer of optimism that made Izuku so passionate and unique. Shoto looked from his lips to his eyes, his heart soaring when Izuku nodded.

Shoto had never kissed anyone before, had no desire to, but when their lips met it was clumsily soft and light just like the air in his chest. He could feel the fast-paced beating of his heart match in rhythm with Izuku’s and when they parted, they were both smiling like giddy children.

“Izuku,” he breathed. Izuku laughed, hiding his face in Shoto’s shoulder as their arms wrapped around neck and torso. They forgot about the trip to the mall they were going to take that day, perfectly happy to waste the hours talking and kissing and doing gross couple things that, truthfully, Todoroki Shoto never had any interest in until he found the one missing piece in his life.

He’d never been more grateful for his lovesickness that day.

Chapter Text

Katsuki had Shoto pinned down on his own bed, fist raised and ready to start wailing on him. Shoto’s next words were the only thing that made him hesitate.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

He scoffed and moved off of Shoto’s stomach, sulking on the edge of the bed instead. “Nothin’ happened. I had a normal fucking childhood, but thanks for your concern, Half-n-Half.”

Shoto rolled his eyes and sat up next to him. “All I suggested was that something in your past may have caused you to be this aggressively violent as a person. Midoriya complimented your technique and you took it as an insult, I don’t think that’s fair.”

“Shut the fuck up about Deku,” Katsuki growled. “Why did I even come here? You’re no help—”

That was usually how it went: Katsuki came to Shoto’s dorm uninvited every so often, rambling loudly about nonsense to the only ear available that wouldn’t bitch about him bitching, and it was usually about Izuku. Shoto stayed quiet most days but being Izuku’s friend, he always stood up for him when Katsuki was just plain in the wrong.

“I don’t know, Bakugo. Why did you come here?”

Katsuki sneered, but Shoto was not the least bit off put by the intense glare that had been shot his way over a hundred times since they’d met. “You’re a fucking moron,” he said, but he was moving closer. Shoto reflexively leaned back. “You know that? You’re as fucking useless as Deku.”

And then Katsuki kissed him. Smashed their faces together, really, barely tilting his head so their noses bumped and teeth clanked together. Shoto’s eyes were wide but Katsuki made it a point to keep his closed to avoid embarrassment and guaranteed rejection.

He pulled away, but not for long. Katsuki opened his mouth but Shoto beat him to the punch—“You call that a kiss? Seriously, Bakugo, everything you do is aggressive. Shut up and don’t move.”

Shoto knew Katsuki wouldn’t listen, so he pinched Katsuki’s lips until his grumbling became silence. A slight smirk graced his lips and this time he closed his eyes, tilting his head as he moved in with a much gentler kiss. Katsuki remained immobile from shock rather than obedience; when Shoto began to pull away, Katsuki’s hand brought him back by the neck.

He could tell Katsuki was trying to kiss him properly, but every fiber of being in that boy’s body was rough. He tilted his head that time at least, teasing Shoto’s lips between his own. Their short, experimental kisses became open-mouthed but cautious. It was as vulnerable as Katsuki let himself be in front of Shoto, but Shoto intended to keep that to himself.

When they finally parted ways, they were out of breath and Katsuki refused to meet Shoto’s eyes. He laughed at that—of course explosions-boy would look mad right after a kissing session with his biggest rival.

“I think I get it now,” Shoto said. Katsuki scowled, but Shoto made a note of how he didn’t move away from the arm around his waist.

“Fucking idiot.”

Chapter Text

Izuku held his breath. Eijirou was so close to his face. He could make out the exact pigment of red in his irises, the perfectly identical shapes of his eyebrows, and when Eijirou tilted his head down a bit to examine his forehead, he could see the veins in his neck and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he spoke. His eyes followed the line of Eijirou’s collarbone to his rounded, muscular shoulder…

“Oi, Midoriya, are you even listening to me? This looks pretty bad,” he said. Oh my god, he was so cute when he was concerned. Izuku grinned sheepishly and moved his face away, hoping his friend couldn’t feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I’m fine, Kirishima, really! I was sparring with Kacchan of all people, I expected to come out of it with some form of injury,” he said.

“Still,” Eijirou argued. His thumb brushed over the purple bruise beneath Izuku’s freckles. Izuku held his breath again, eyes wide. “I like the guy, but I always wonder why Bakugo’s so rough with you in particular. I know the gist, childhood friends, right? But I just don’t get it.”

“Ah, thank you for your concern, Kirishima,” Izuku said, “But I’ll be okay, I promise. Kacchan will always be Kacchan and believe it or not, he’s gotten better about it. He’s pushing me to become stronger and one day I plan on answering that challenge.”

“Ha—! So manly!” Eijirou cried, hugging Izuku to his chest.

Without realizing it he inhaled deeply; Eijirou’s turn to spar hadn’t come yet, giving Izuku the chance to learn his natural scent. He expected it to be gross and manly but instead, Eijirou’s bare chest smelled like cinnamon sugar and cardamom. Woody and sweet. Izuku inhaled again, closing his eyes to will himself to remember it.

Eijirou froze. He pulled away, face as red as his hair. Izuku slowly opened his eyes and met his gaze, bashfully apologizing.

“Were you… were you seriously just smelling me, Midoriya?” Izuku nodded. “Oh my god, you’re too much! How can you be this adorable?” Eijirou laughed and tilted Izuku’s face up. “Want me to kiss your booboos?”

Izuku laughed through his nose. “That’s what the doctor prescribed,” he played along.

Eijirou’s nose carefully nuzzled his cheek, and was soon replaced with gentle lips on the ugly purple bruise that threatened those innocent freckles. He kissed above Izuku’s eyebrow where the ground had scraped it, and then his other cheek where his freckles remained unharmed; then he leaned closer, lips pausing over Izuku’s, and it was Izuku who closed the distance.

Their kisses were brief, pure little pecks that met over and over and over before they couldn’t stop giggling and pulled away. Eijirou hugged him to his chest again and kissed atop Izuku’s messy mop of hair.

All Might announced the next two to spar—Eijirou vs. Momo. “One more kiss for good luck?” he asked.

Izuku smiled and got on his tip-toes to kiss Eijirou again, but slower and fuller. “Good luck,” he whispered on Eijirou’s lips before his fellow hero-in-training ran off with a vigor and determination fueled by Izuku himself.

Chapter Text

Toshinori began to stir from his sleep too early in the morning. He cleared his throat, eyes parting just a sliver to let him see the soft morning light beginning to break between the curtains. He sighed, feeling a pair of hands caress his stomach, trailing with fingertips before pressing the palms down flat. The left hand stopped as it reached his injury, careful not to add pressure over the deep scarring. Toshinori rolled over to face his lover.

Hizashi’s eyes were closed but he welcomed the attention, scooting closer to tuck his head under Toshinori’s chin. He took a deep breath, then let it out, his hands remaining occupied with the number one hero’s bony back. They slowed their movements, however, pausing for long periods of time—tricking Toshinori into thinking he’d gone back to sleep—before they started up again as if they had only taken a brief rest.

“Toshi,” Hizashi whined in that raspy, morning voice of his. “Too early.”

“Oh?” Toshinori chuckled, pressing a kiss to Hizashi’s forehead. “You’re the one who woke me up with all your touching.”

“Meh.” Hizashi opened one eye, half-heartedly glaring at him. “I can feel you staring.”

Toshinori hummed and kissed his forehead again. “I noticed something just now, Hizashi,” he said, completely ignoring his lover’s complaints. Long fingers threaded their way into a long mane that was usually done up in a crazy fashion, taking the time to enjoy each strand’s softness as they glided between his knuckles. “The only time you’re not talkative is in the morning.”

“S’too early!” he complained again. Toshinori grinned, but closed his eyes, attempting to throw himself into the abyss of sleep once more.

Persistent lips kept him awake, tracing a path up his neck and along his jaw. A lingering question was swallowed by them, all dry and chapped in a tender kiss. Toshinori smiled over Hizashi’s mouth, and they shared a few more slow, lazy kisses before resting their heads back on the pillow.

“Go back to sleep,” Hizashi said.

But Toshinori had already fallen back asleep, blissfully dreaming of his loud-mouthed boyfriend.

Chapter Text

Izuku liked his coffee plain. He would take it black when he could, but sometimes he’d use a little creamer and that’s it. Nothing else. Tomura, on the other hand…

Izuku’s mouth hung open as he watched the villain empty a sixth packet of sugar into his coffee. Next was two creamers. He swallowed down a gag, watching Tomura stir the creamy white liquid; Izuku wondered why he didn’t just get a cream-based drink to begin with. There was hardly any coffee left in Tomura’s sugary-sweet beverage.

“Would you like some, Midoriya?” Tomura asked. Izuku jolted, his eyes snapping up to catch Tomura’s gaze. He was smiling. It was something that Izuku didn’t know whether he could get used to or not. The malice that was there before remained but a hint on his cracked lips.

“Um, sure,” Izuku said, afraid to decline. He pushed his black coffee aside, making a note to use it as a chaser lest he throw up from Tomura’s pure-sugar concoction.

Tomura scooted out of his side of the booth and slid in next to Izuku, pressing close to him. Izuku flushed but didn’t pull away; he had learned the first time that Tomura got extremely insecure and emotional if Izuku rejected him in any way. He felt bad for the deranged boy.

“Say ‘ahh,’” Tomura commanded. Izuku raised a brow but did as he was told, expecting Tomura to spoon-feed him—instead, Tomura took a sip of the coffee himself and then transferred it orally into Izuku’s mouth.

Izuku wanted to object, but Tomura caught his lips in an open-mouthed kiss before he could say anything. Gargled mumbling was silenced by a tongue coated in liquid sugar, sweet enough to give him cavities. Izuku’s face felt hot with eight fingers gripping his thighs and needy lips scratching his mouth. He whimpered as quietly as he could, waiting for the trembling of his body to stop.

When Tomura parted from him, he had a dazed look in his eyes above a crooked smile. Izuku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “M-might be too sweet for me,” he said.

“Oh, that’s right. You like your coffee black,” Tomura said, eyeing the second mug as Izuku reached for it. He watched him take a rather large gulp of bitter coffee. “Midoriya?”


“Can I kiss you again?”

Izuku was thrown off. Shigaraki Tomura, asking for permission? He looked down at his hands shyly. “Yes,” he said, and was pleasantly surprised that the next kiss was careful. Gentle.

It was the perfect ratio of sugar.

Chapter Text

“Hey, what’s up with you, Kaminari?”

Oh, boy, this was going to be difficult. Denki had been avoiding Eijirou for a couple days and now he’d embarrassed himself in class. Katsuki got the second highest score on midterms again, causing a good third of the class to flock to him for tutoring sessions. Most of which he ignored, except for Eijirou. And, being the person that he is, Eijirou was excitable and hugged him. He hugged that asshole—and it wasn’t the first time he was handsy with him. Whenever Katsuki put up with Eijirou hanging out with him, Eijirou’s arm was always slung around his shoulder.

It drove Denki mad.

So what did he do? Shouted in class that he didn’t get why they were all asking the biggest asshole when they should be asking Todoroki who had actually gotten the top scores in the class. It came off very… petty and childish, not to mention out of nowhere. There was no way for Denki to mask his bottled up annoyance, but he ran out of there before Katsuki had the chance to blow up his face.

He hadn’t realized that Eijirou followed him all the way to the roof. He looked down at his hands, poking his index fingers together nervously as the one person he couldn’t bring himself to lie to stood right before him. What could he say? That he was jealous?

“Seriously, man, what’s up? I’ve never seen you mad before. I’m kinda worried.”

Denki forced out a laugh. “Ah, y’know man, it’s just Bakugo—sometimes I can’t stand the guy!”

“Kaminari, you’re really bad at lying.”

He glanced up, watching Eijirou cross his arms as he took a couple steps forward. Denki’s mind told him to move back, couldn’t let him get too close, but his legs refused to listen. “Uh… well, you—you see…”

“Hey, it’s just me,” Eijirou said. And then he smiled—oh god, his smile was so bright and warm. Denki’s heart flipped infinitely. “You know you can tell me anything, right? We’re friends! …But you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just want you to know I’m here, ‘kay?”

“Right, friends,” Denki murmured. “Um… Well, I guess I—” Honesty. He had to be honest. All in one breath he forced himself to spit out, “I sorta maybe have a big crush on you and I’m jealous that you hang around Bakugo so much and hug him and stuff.”

Eijirou’s arms dropped to his sides. His thin eyebrows rose far above wide, red eyes.

“H-hah! So yeah, that’s it. Wow, I feel so much better! Okay, we can go back now—”

Eijirou caught Denki by the arm when he tried to walk by. “You like me?” Eijirou asked quietly. His cheeks were slightly pink; Denki thought he might pass out from how much cuter it made him.

“…Yeah,” he admitted.

Eijirou smiled again and pulled him into a hug. “You big dufus, don’t you know I’ve got a crush on you too?!”

“You—you do?!”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Denki’s entire body felt tingly as it pressed into Eijirou’s strong torso, the firmness of his hold telling him that Eijirou wasn’t just pulling his leg. Denki grinned stupidly into his shoulder and hugged back.

When Eijirou loosened his grip, he kept his face close, bumping their noses together. They both laughed under their breath, and Denki wasn’t sure who moved first, but next their lips were touching and his heart lifted off into the clouds. He sighed blissfully, tightening his hands around Eijirou’s biceps through the school uniform. Denki couldn’t begin to describe how amazing it felt to have Eijirou’s hands on his hips, keeping him firmly in place.

They broke apart only when they needed to breathe. “First kiss?” Eijirou asked.


“Me too. Wanna go on a date tonight?”

Denki almost squealed. He buried his face in Eijirou’s chest, laughing as if he couldn’t believe this was real life. “Yes, dufus.”

“Hey! That’s my nickname for you!”

Chapter Text

Dawn was among them. It had been a rough night, particularly for Izuku - seeing his old neighbor and former childhood friend brought back a sour taste that he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with. He sighed heavily and looked upon the horizon; it glimmered with a subtle orange beneath the dark veil of a violet sky.

He’d made himself comfortable on a hill a ways away from their camp. Izuku knew he couldn’t stay away long, lest the noble warrior, his good friend Tenya, send an entire village out to find him. He smiled a bit at the thought.

A heavy flapping noise perked up his ears, and looking to the left, he saw the shadow of a large creature flying toward him. “Ah, Kirishima!” he said, mustering as cheerful a tone as he could to hide his exhaustion. “I hope I didn’t worry you.”

Eijirou didn’t bother transforming into his human half. He landed gently on the grass and padded toward Izuku, bending his knees and elbows in a crouch until his big head was snug underneath Izuku’s arm. Izuku laughed, scratching behind Eijirou‘s ears without him having to ask. “Don’t tell me you sought me out solely for some scritches, boy. I feel used!”

Eijirou snorted.

“Hmm. It’s still dark,” Izuku said.

Eijirou lifted his gaze. Those large, shiny eyes watched a mixed look of tranquility and uncertainty take over Izuku’s features; the fall in his freckles as a trademark smile slackened, green eyes that drooped low, the parting of pink lips. Chapped from the cold, but they still looked soft. Eijirou raised his head, breathing steamy-hot air close to Izuku’s cheek. Izuku laughed out a thanks.

Eijirou couldn’t help himself and nuzzled beneath Izuku’s jaw. His body shifted, shrinking gradually until he could swing a human leg over Izuku’s thighs and wrap his arms around Izuku’s neck.

Izuku’s cheeks were illuminated by the dying moonlight, reflecting a soft pink enhanced by the coming sorbet of dawn. Eijirou chuckled and whispered his name, “Midoriya,” before he kissed the corner of Izuku’s lips.

Izuku turned his head a moment too late. He scratched his neck awkwardly and returned his attention to the sunrise. Eijirou gently took hold of his chin and made him look at him.

“Midoriya, y’know he doesn’t mean all that stuff, don’t you? He’s all talk,” Eijirou said.

“Yeah, I know,” Izuku said. “That’s Kacchan, alright. I just wish we could have normal conversations.”

“I’ll be the middleman! Eh? What could go wrong?”

Izuku barked out a laugh, hiding his nose in Eijirou’s collarbone. He shook his head and planted a soft kiss on the dragon-man’s shoulder. “A lot could go wrong, actually.” Izuku paused. “But thank you, Kirishima.”

Eijirou didn’t need his thanks. He nuzzled Izuku’s cheek and peppered him with kisses all over until they collapsed in a childish fit of giggles on the grass. Neither of them moved. The sun had already risen but that moment—that moment was perfect, and neither of them dared to break it.

Chapter Text

Eijirou yawned as the trees passed rapidly beyond the glass windows. Red eyes blinked blearily. His school uniform suddenly felt grimy and hot. He glanced at the boy next to him who had his neck straight and eyes closed; permanently angled eyebrows made Eijirou guess he was still awake. “Hey, Bakugo,” he said. 

Katsuki didn’t answer. Eijirou frowned but decided that invoking his friend’s wrath was probably not the best idea – instead, he would admire him in silence, a rarity itself for the boy with explosive palms. 

Another yawn escaped Eijirou’s lips. Dusk settled over the sky as the train took off from the next stop, growing darker by the minute. A gentle mist washed over the city. Eijirou didn’t realize, but his eyes slid shut and the dull hum of the train had lulled him into sleep. 


When he woke, the mist had thickened into fog, and he felt even warmer. He sighed, a little stiff from bending over to the right - but... wait. Someone’s arm was around his shoulders. A gentle shake finally persuaded him to open his eyes. Eijirou blushed: a sleepy Katsuki mumbled in his harsh, aggressive voice that the next stop was Eijirou’s. He nodded. 

Blood rushed past Eijirou’s cheeks all the way to his ears, and he could hear the thumping of his heart beating wildly in his chest. Katsuki hadn’t bothered to move his arm away, or stand up, or shove Eijirou off. Something flipped in his stomach, but he couldn’t put together just what that something was. Eijirou remained in the same uncomfortable position the rest of the way, simply because he didn’t want Katsuki to let go of him.

But as the train slowed down, nearing his stop, he realized he’d have to leave Katsuki’s side. The sad thought made him sigh. Katsuki pinched his side with his free hand; Eijirou flinched, hissing as he turned his face with a pout.

Bad idea, bad, bad, bad idea. Their faces were too close. He hadn’t expected Katsuki to turn and look at him, too. The train was pulling into the station – his stop – everything around them froze and before he could talk himself out of it, Eijirou leaned forward, pecking Katsuki’s lips just slightly.

Eijirou closed his eyes tight, not knowing what to expect. The doors opened and the operator’s voice drowned in the drumming of commuters’ feet rushing to get off. Then pressure was applied to his shoulder, moving him forward, and he opened his eyes to see Katsuki’s lips pucker, and then they were on his again and Eijirou felt like he was dying. Heaven became a reality.

“Hurry up and get off, hair-for-brains,” he growled, removing his arm. “I’ll find your dumb ass after school tomorrow.”

A few more people trickled out onto the platform. Eijirou jumped up and rushed through—just as the doors closed he activated his quirk and forced them to stay open. “I’ll hold you to that, Bakugo!” he said, grinning, sharp teeth and all.

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Fucking nerd,” he said gruffly, doing his best not to look back as the train took off again through the thinning fog.

Chapter Text

“Whoa! Midoriya, that’s so cool! Can I try?”

Eijirou bounced on his feet and held his palms out. Izuku laughed, causing the pencil to topple from the tip of his nose, but he caught it and set it in Eijirou’s hands.

“You’ve gotta have real good balance, Kirishima. Think you can manage?” Izuku asked, stifling another laugh. Eijirou pouted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, unperturbed from his task. He tilted his head slightly upward. “I’ll have you know that I have great balance.”

To disprove his point, the pencil immediately rolled off his nose. Eijirou grumbled and picked it up off the ground to try again; but the next time it wobbled, and the third time he almost had it but its weight tipped to one side and fell off. He whined, shooting big puppy dog eyes toward Izuku.

“Haha, okay here, let me show you the trick. Don’t tilt your head so much, Kirishima. Ah—this is a little awkward, can you close your eyes?”

Eijirou closed them.

He felt the pencil balance carefully on his nose, and for a second while he didn’t move, it stayed. Then he felt soft, small lips kiss him.

Eijirou’s eyes snapped open. The pencil fell off yet again. “Mi-Midoriya,” he mumbled, patting the coming blush on his cheeks.

Izuku offered a shy smile. “You almost had it, Kirishima!” he said. Sly little green-haired hero-to-be, with his soft curls that Eijirou couldn’t resist reaching out to touch, and those big green eyes that were even brighter staring up into his; and those precious lips that Eijirou could claim again as his own with soft little pecks until he branched out to the corners of Izuku’s mouth and then his favorite part of Izuku’s face - his chubby cheeks with all those freckles that made him a jillion times more adorable.

The pencil lay forgotten in the grass, but Eijirou had found his balance.

Chapter Text

Shoto stared intently at the bright T-shirt Izuku had chosen to wear that day. It was a hard yellow, bright enough to be noticed but not neon, so soft on the eyes (relatively speaking). He couldn’t figure out whether he liked it or not; the color itself went well with Izuku’s dark, green hair, but...


Izuku looked up at the sound of Shoto’s snapping fingers.

“Izuku, do you taste sour?”

His boyfriend raised a brow and scratched his chin as his eyes wandered to no particular spot on the wall. “Sour? Um, I don’t think so. I don’t secrete any special kind of sweat the way Kacchan does, nor do I use scented lotions. But I suppose if I sweat enough it may—“

“Haha, you’re mumbling already.”

“Oh, am I? Sorry, Todo... I mean, Shoto. I thought you were being serious.”

Shoto grinned and moved from his spot on the couch to the kitchen where Izuku was brewing a kettle of tea. He wrapped his arms around Izuku’s waist and covered his freckled cheeks with lingering kisses that warmed under his lips.

Then he licked a line all the way up from the tip of Izuku’s nose to the bridge. Izuku scrunched up his face, leaning back with a disgusted squeal that got an earnest laugh out of Shoto.

“With that shirt you remind me of those sour American snacks, the colorful fruity ones. However, they’re usually sticky and I’ve concluded from my experiment that you are neither sticky nor sour,” Shoto explained.

Izuku laughed and rested his forehead on Shoto’s cheek. “You’re such a dork. I’m never wearing bright colors again.”

“No, please do.”

Shoto kissed his lips sweetly and Izuku thought that maybe wearing bright colors and subsequently making your boyfriend question your taste or flavor wasn’t really a bad thing after all.

Chapter Text

Summertime makes them swelter.

Katsuki complains nonstop for days on end, always perched in front of the biggest fan in their small apartment with his body thrown half-off the sofa. He never wears more than his shorts; when he does, it’s a crop top that barely does anything to hide his nipples and rippling abs.

And this is where Todoroki Shoto very nearly loses his mind. Katsuki is unusually quiet, so he glances over to make sure he’s still there - but Katsuki’s eyes are closed, sweat trickling down from his cheek over his forehead. Shoto wants to laugh because he’s laying upside down on the couch, but fears it will disturb the moment.

The moment in which he watches Katsuki’s crop top move with the air blown out of the fan, teasing him with a peek of hard abs that are sleek with sweat. Because of his awkward position, his top is skewed, and Shoto can’t help but graze his eyes over Katsuki’s cute pink nipple. He bites his lip. Memories flash in his mind of the cold nights they spend together during winter - when he gets to mouth that nipple, when Katsuki moans because of it, when they use first names and shamelessly declare their love.

Shoto flushes deeply and tears his gaze away. He sets down his book and rubs his cheeks to get the extra warmth to go away.

But nothing stops him from standing up in his slippers and sluggishly making his way toward his boyfriend. He kneels down on the hardwood floor and brushes damp bangs from Katsuki’s forehead. A disgruntled sound is his response; Shoto laughs quietly. He notices the sweat collecting on Katsuki’s lashes and wipes it away with his thumb, then kisses his eyelids. Katsuki grumbles again.

“The fuck, Shoto, it’s too damn hot for this,” Katsuki says.

“Hm, but I know something that isn’t,” Shoto replies. He shivers pleasantly as the fan blows air toward him.

Katsuki is clearly waiting to hear his suggestion, impatience apparent in the way his thin brows pull together and the twitch in his lips.

“But you have to kiss me firs—“

Shoto is pulled down roughly, tastes moist salty lips on his. It’s quick because neither of them can stomach how hot it’ll be if they start making out - but he’s pleased with it.

“Cold shower?” Shoto suggests.

Katsuki grunts, but he swings his legs over the cushions and stomps his way to the bathroom. Shoto’s heart jumps with excitement, following the trail of clothes like a cat about to get tuna.

Chapter Text

Izuku is a kisser. It doesn’t surprise Katsuki, really, but what he doesn’t expect is to love them so much. Kisses in the morning, or before work, or for no reason at all when Katsuki’s watching a fucking show and then Izuku’s stupid curls are in the way but he can’t bitch about it when those amazing chapped lips are on his.

And he gets this look, too. Sometimes it’s playful, like when he interrupts Katsuki’s TV or reading time, but most days it’s warm, soft, sincere. Bursting with enough love that it makes Katsuki’s heart hurt. That’s what he fights for, he decides, on the night that Izuku leaves for a week-long mission out of town. He fights for Izuku’s kisses and his smile. That smile. (Like hell he’d ever admit that, though.)

Katsuki rolls over. The bed is still cold on Izuku’s side and he hates it, but he’s off today and decides to sleep some more. If he can’t see Izuku then at least he can dream about him.

But in the haze of his sleepiness he hears the front door open and close, then a pitter-patter of footsteps attempting to be quiet. He snorts but he’s smiling. Still not sure if he’s even awake yet or if this is just the start of a really good dream, so he makes no move to get up.

But he doesn’t have to.

He’s already dozing off by the time he hears the coffee machine brewing, and a few minutes later the delicious smell of caffeine coming closer and closer kick-starts his brain. There’s a figure bending down in front of him on Izuku’s side. “Morning, Kacchan,” comes the voice of the number one hero. Deku. “Wake up. Look, I even made you coffee.”

Katsuki half-whines. He’s pretty sure it’s a dream now—like the universe would actually reward his bitchiness with Izuku returning home early, making him coffee, and coming back to bed. But he hears a quiet laugh and suddenly there’s a dip in the bed and a gloved hand on his cheek.

Then there’s those lips again and finally Katsuki realizes it’s not a dream. He sighs into the kiss, the crease in his brow loosening as Izuku moves his lips slowly. Tastes his Kacchan thoroughly. Katsuki is usually impatient but he loves the way Izuku takes his time. Brushes his lips teasingly on Katsuki’s before pressing with a bit more force, tilting his head. A gentle back-and-forth rhythm that only the two of them can master.

When Izuku pulls away Katsuki huffs. Izuku laughs again and shakes his shoulder. “Come on! Your coffee is getting cold. And don’t I get a proper welcome back, honey! Or something like that?”

“Just c’mere, nerd,” Katsuki insists, holding out his arms.

He hears Izuku sigh, then a rustling of clothes. He’s watching him but his eyes are still sleepy and refuse to focus. Only when Izuku climbs under the covers, warm, tangling their legs together and face-to-face with him, only then can Katsuki see him clearly. See all those freckles and those cute, pink lips and those bright green eyes and—

“Kacchan, you’re staring.”

“Shut up, I missed your stupid face.” He pauses. “And you too, I guess.”

Izuku brightens. He kisses Katsuki’s forehead; he’s feeling tired again, but whole. Katsuki doesn’t want to go back to bed but the body that fits so rightly with his own has cocooned him into it, lulling him back to sleep. “Me too,” Izuku says. He kisses Katsuki’s forehead again and now that Izuku is home, now that he’s gotten a kiss—one of the many that he missed so so much—now, Katsuki can rest.

And when he wakes up later that morning, Izuku is still there in his arms where he ought to be.