this got some decent feedback on ao3, so i decided to post it here as well! please enjoy! and be sure to tell me what you think!

His smile was what got him.

On Shouto's first day at U.A., prestigious high school for the upbringing of young heroes, Midoriya Izuku had, to put it simply, knocked him off his feet.

The smile was bold, loud, breathtakingly beautiful, and sucked Shouto in right away. For that first week, his dreams were clouded with thoughts of the green haired, freckle-faced boy and his charming personality. He frequently chattered animatedly to Uraraka and Iida, his beam lighting up the entire room and effortlessly taking Shouto's breath for himself.

He watched from afar as the boy's milky cheeks burned bright red when getting too close to Uraraka. He watched as his determination leaked through his otherwise nervous personality when addressing Bakugou Katsuki. He watched as the boy continued to hurt himself while using that godforsaken quirk of his. He watched as he smiled right past the pain and took it straight to his face. He watched tirelessly as the boy saved him multiple times, over and over again, without even knowing it.

Shouto was completely and utterly smitten by their second year of high school, memories about the countless nights he spent sitting besides Midoriya flitting through his mind. They sat in either in shuddering silence, or the quiet lulling of their low voices mingling together.

Shouto loved that sound. It reminded him of cherry blossoms. Fresh, youthful, and out of control. His low voice mixed with Midoriya's slightly higher one was enough to melt his insides into a pile of putty.

Not that he'd ever admit that out loud, of course.

It was in the end of their second year when things began to change, and it was no longer just Shouto silently pining away behind Midoriya's back.

Now, instead of his heart suddenly thrumming quietly whenever Midoriya came close, his chest started hurting. It was a deep, hollow feeling that simply refused to go away once it started approaching. Midoriya would quietly come up to his desk, asking for a spare pencil or if Shouto would like to check answers to last night's homework with him. Shouto would nod. He had started to nod more frequently. He'd never decline, and he'd never say anything either.

The realization of his budding feelings towards his friend was enough to set him straight.

That didn't mean he didn't not want to say anything, though. His mouth would sometimes part slightly, words just begging to tumble out of his mouth, but they never did. He always closed his lips tightly again, sealing away anything he was planning on saying. Sometimes he hummed in agreement with Midoriya's mini rants, but ever since his close proximity became a problem for his heart, he decided it would be better to keep his mouth firmly shut.

It never helped.

He found himself wanting to talk to Midoriya more and more, his heartaches becoming further prominent as Midoriya, for some strange reason, stepped back too.

Shouto didn't know how it had happened. He barely even paid attention to the events that led up to it. Never once did he regret slowing down his repetitive speech patterns with the boy up until that one point. Then, suddenly, he wished he had tried harder for his own sake.

Usually in the mornings, Midoriya would come up to him, tell him about something silly such as the latest hero gossip, or what his mom made him for dinner the night before. Now, though, Midoriya barely even glanced his way as he quietly slid into his desk, opting instead to answer a stupid feud that Bakugou had initiated.

Never had be been so jealous of his past self. His past self where he could openly talk to Midoriya. His past self where Midoriya openly came up and talked to him.

It had been a week since their last conversation, and the rest of their friends had slowly begun to catch up on their sudden change in relationship.

For example, Midoriya stopped inviting Shouto to sit with their group during lunch, and instead, Shouto sat with Bakugou, Kirishima, and Ashido. Kirishima had, of course, said more than a few times to the rest of their friends that Shouto would spare a good number of glances back at Midoriya's table, to which Uraraka replied with that Midoriya had done the same to Shouto.

It was surreal. Everyone was sure that the two of them were best friends, but now, it was like they were completely ignoring each other.

Shouto knew that wasn't true, though. He and Midoriya did exchange a few casual smiles and nods as they passed each other in the hallways, but their conversation levels had basically shrunk down to nothing.

And Shouto hated that. He missed talking to Midoriya before and after school, during class, and lunch. Hearing the shorter boy's excited chitters and input on just about anything and everything was something Shouto genuinely enjoyed, even if he knew it wasn't good for him.

None of this was good for him.

He was slowly breaking apart from this loss of contact, and frankly, he didn't know what to do with himself.

But Midoriya seemed fine with it, and that was all that mattered.

…

Izuku's insides were tearing up.

One week and three days. Ten days since his last conversation with Todoroki, and he didn't even know what happened. It wasn't even a conversation, but more of a quiet mutter as they passed each other.

He didn't know why.

The two of them were fine at first. At the beginning of their second year, they spoke with each other at least three times a day, if not more. They ate lunch together, spent all night in the lounge of their dorms, browsing through their phones and exchanging soft nothings with each other. They were best friends, after all.

But then, Izuku started to think that Todoroki didn't feel the same way.

It happened slowly. One day, Todoroki would talk to him about something, and the next, he would just nod along. This went to the point where he would just stop talking to him, and Izuku didn't get that.

He wanted to go back to how it was before all of this pathetic nonsense happened, whatever it was. He didn't really know.

He did know, though, that with every day that passed with no contact from Todoroki, he was slowly losing his mind.

Izuku had decided that Todoroki just simply didn't want to talk to him. Ever since he stopped answering his chitters and questions, the conclusion became easier to reach. It was… in all honestly, quite obvious, now that he thought about it.

But that really did hurt.

A lot.

During lunch, Izuku stole glances at Todoroki when he was sure he wasn't looking.

During class, he'd stare holes into the back of Todoroki's head. (He silently thanked their new seating arrangement for that).

After school, he'd send a lone glance in Todoroki's direction before climbing up to his room.

Before going to sleep that night, he laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and sweetly reminiscing about how things were between him and the half-and-half boy during their first year of high school.

He remembered the first time they ever properly spoke to each other.

He remembered their fight against each other during the sports festival.

He remembered when he smiled at him, his bright teeth baring boldly in the middle of the mix of fire, ice, burning ashes, and flames licking his skin. The first time those flames emerged for him in years.

He remembered providing emotional support for him when he came in tears to his room, blabbering something incomprehensible about his mother. It was the first time he ever mentioned her after everything that had happened at the sports festival, so when he came stumbling next to him, words rolling off of his tongue, Izuku had no problems in patiently listening to the boy rant about everything that he was feeling.

Izuku had held him that night, comforting him and gently rocking him to sleep, and the next day, everything was back to normal.

Izuku sighed, turning around so he was laying on his stomach, burying his face into his hands as he recalled what had happened with Todoroki just earlier that day. They were passing each other in the dorm lounge and happened to bump into each other.

Cue a heavily embarrassed Todoroki and a stammering, good-for-nothing Izuku.

For some reason, though, when the brief connection occurred, something light fluttered at the bottom of his stomach, sending a sickly-like feeling rising in his chest. He had gulped, not bothering to apologize properly to Todoroki, and ran away as soon as possible.

He could only imagine the confused look Todoroki must have had after Izuku's weird excuse of an exit.

Izuku smiled at the thought of Todoroki's face scrunching up, his lips jutting out to pout adorably at him, had he stayed back to experience it himself. Todoroki would have offered him one of those nice smiles he always sent his way. The thought made a shock of something Izuku couldn't quite identify course through his spine.

He gulped, lifting his head up and tucking his hands underneath the pillow, still lost in his speculation of Todoroki's expressions. All of the looks he would have given him if they were still talking like they used to, and all the things Izuku would have said in response to his words.

If they were still speaking with one another, how would things have been? Would they have become any different?

He sniffed, curling into a tight ball, bringing his knees up to his chest. His hands were seemingly frozen in place, shaking slightly as his eyes widened, his imagination still completely taken over by his friend.

He couldn't do this anymore.

He wanted to talk to Todoroki.

His phone chimed.

…

Shouto was done with this.

Ten days had passed since his last conversation with Midoriya, and he could not deal with the uncomfortable feeling that had suddenly been brought up throughout the classroom.

Whenever he walked into the room, Midoriya's closest friends would all shoot him weird looks, whispering something to the green haired boy. He and Midoriya would make the briefest of eye contact, but it never went any further than that.

On the other hand, whenever Midoriya would walk into the room, Kirishima or Kaminari would always point in his direction, their eyebrows raised and lips parted. Shouto would brush them off, not wanting to deal with any more necessary drama.

But now, as he lied down flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his arms outstretched to his sides, he remembered something important.

This was Midoriya. His best friend Midoriya.

The same Midoriya who he had undoubtedly, undeniably fallen for. Hard.

Shouto knew he was avoiding him because of this, but he never expected Midoriya to do the same back to him. He thought he would always come up to him, full smiles, and talk to him like it was any other day.

Shouto thought he knew Midoriya, but he obviously didn't, and that bothered him to no end.

He wanted to know why.

Shouto gently lifted himself off of his bed, taking care to keep the sheets intact and grabbing his phone off of the floor next to him. Furrowing his eyebrows, he opened his messaging application, clicking Midoriya's name and promptly ignoring the 'last texted' date, which read almost two weeks, in the top right corner of the contact.

He began to type.

Todoroki Shouto: Are you awake?

He sent the message, drumming his fingers on his knees in anticipation. He didn't blame Midoriya for taking long to respond, however. This was the first time they had spoken with each other in a while.

When his phone chimed- twice- almost five minutes later, Shouto scrambled to read the incoming texts.

Midoriya Izuku: Yeah.

Midoriya Izuku: Do you need something?

There was the Midoriya he knew. The Midoriya that would always think of other people before himself. Shouto gulped, slowly typing something back.

Todoroki Shouto: Can you come to the lounge in five minutes?

Midoriya Izuku: Sure.

…

It was a colder night, and Shouto was actively using his left side to heat himself up as he walked down from the fifth floor of the U.A. dorms, mentally praying for himself and his slowly breaking sanity.

He didn't know how this meeting was going to play out; he hadn't thought that far ahead.

But he needed to talk to Midoriya. Even if it was just for a few minutes, he'd be satisfied. Anything would satisfy him at this point, if he was being honest.

His feet nimbly sweeped across the floor, sock-covered and ready to jump if there was any silly pranking from one of his friends, though he knew it was too late for that.

When he arrived in the lounge, Midoriya was already there. His bright green curls shined in the night's calming aura, and when he turned to look at him, his freckles glistened in the moonlight.

"T-Todoroki-kun," he whispered, jumping off of the sofa he was sitting on and quickly running his flat palms over his pale t-shirt and fuzzy pants. He coughed awkwardly, his gaze averting away from him.

"Midoriya," Shouto started, his breath almost catching in his throat. The use of his name startled the boy. He quickly looked back up at Shouto, his eyes widening.

"W-what did you c-call me down here for?" he stammered out, his nervous approach to the situation showing clearly.

Midoriya's eyes were really beautiful, Shouto was realizing. They almost had a black to green gradient, and in this lighting, they looked even more magnificent. Specks of different shades of the deep green color prominently stood out, and Shouto was sure his knees were trembling.

"I just," Shouto started, before catching himself. He looked down at the floor, embarrassed for some strange reason. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Midoriya's breathing evened out, his posture suddenly relaxing and his head lifting. Shouto watched a small smile start to surface on the corner of his lips. The same smile he fell for all those years ago.

"You have no idea how good it feels to hear that," Midoriya said, his voice barely a low whisper.

Shouto gulped. "Look," he started, tapping the fingers of his hands against each other, "I don't know what happened to us." He paused, taking in Midoriya's calm face. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Midoriya was the one who usually stammered and didn't know what to say, not him.

"Todoroki-kun," Midoriya said, stepping closer to the tall boy. Shouto tilted his head down so that they could comfortably look at each other eye to eye. He watched as Midoriya's solemn expression morphed into something more palpable. "Todoroki-kun." Never had his name sounded so good in another person's voice. "I'm sorry."

Shouto's ears snapped up.

What was he apologizing for?

If anything, he should have been the one to apologize. Midoriya didn't need to do that.

All of this was his own fault.

"Please," Shouto said, "don't apologize." He gulped, his entire façade completely uncharacteristic.

"Why not?" Midoriya asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I've been avoiding you, and I'm sorry for that."

"No," Shouto shook his head, "I'm the one who stopped talking to you first. I'm the one who's supposed to be apologizing." He tched, eyes narrowing and gaze dropping to the floor. "I shouldn't have done that."

Midoriya didn't answer for a few seconds, but when he did, his voice was filled with unattainable glee. "I know!"

Shouto faltered. "What?" he spat, not meaning to sound so harsh. He faintly wondered if Midoriya would take offense to his tone.

"Why did you do that, anyway?" Midoriya asked, but he was bubbly. Joyful.

It pissed Shouto off.

"I… I just-"

But then, Midoriya took Shouto's hand in his, lightly tugging at it. Shouto almost let out a yelp of surprise, his legs nearly giving out as Midoriya pulled him to one of the larger couches, sitting down and dragging Shouto to sit next to him.

Shouto stared at the boy in surprise when Midoriya's grip around his hand didn't let go, but tightened.

"Listen," he started, his eyes rolling around to look anywhere but at Shouto's face, "when I noticed that you started ignoring me… well, it wasn't even ignoring. You still talked to me but you just, kinda, stopped talking talking, you know? Anyway, when I noticed you stopped talking, I thought that maybe, um, you kind of, well, didn't like me anymore? Or that you were bored of me or something, and I didn't really know what to do, so I guess I thought I'd kind of, well, give you your own space? But like, that didn't really work because everything that I've been feeling these past few days, not that they're feelings that actually, you know, make me happy. They're actually the opposite, um, really, anyway, so I was like-"

"Wait," Shouto cut in, stopping Midoriya mid-rant. Midoriya's eyes dilated. He looked at Shouto, waiting for him to say something. "Your feelings weren't making you happy?"

He cocked his head to the side and nodded. "Well, yeah, they didn't make me happy. They actually, you know, kind of made me feel a bit sad and stuff, but I-"

"I made you sad?" Shouto interrupted again, gripping Midoriya's hand like there was no tomorrow.

"No," the curly haired boy shook his head in response. "No, Todoroki-kun, you could never make me sad."

"But you just said that I did."

Midoriya rocked his head east to west again. "No. I told you, it wasn't you. It was me."

"I don't follow."

"Whatever I was feeling was making me sad, and seeing you ignoring me…" He trailed off, nervously picking at the flesh of his inner lip with his teeth.

Shouto's breath halted. "What were you feeling?" He was definitely blushing now. Shouto could feel the heat on his cheeks, but he didn't let up.

"Well," Midoriya said, his voice low and almost unsure. "I don't really…"

Through the fluttering curtains of the lounge area, a single ray of moonlight broke inside, illuminating the darkness of the room. Shouto could clearly see the crimson color of the underside of Midoriya's eyes, trailing all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"Midoriya," Shouto whispered. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to know. "Tell me what you were feeling."

Midoriya's hand clenched Shouto's tightly, and he directed his gaze back to the floor. Shouto stared at him. Midoriya stared at the ground.

Then, he said. "I think… I think I like you."

And Shouto's world burst into color.

He didn't know if he was smiling, but he had to be. His insides felt giddy and his heart was beating faster and faster with every passing second. His breath became broken up, surprise etched into his features as he peered at Midoriya's embarrassed face, trying to decide how to answer.

"I love you."

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even get a grip on them. His breath hitched. His eyes widened. Midoriya gawked at him.

"W-when did you-"

"I don't know when," Shouto admitted, eyes darting away. "From the day I met you, I suppose. I didn't really…" He stuttered to a pause, searching for the right words. "I didn't really know what to do about it, so I didn't do anything."

"T-Todoroki-kun…" Midoriya breathed. Shouto's heart throbbed, a sincere look now engraved onto his face, like he was pleading with the boy sitting besides him. He watched Midoriya's face lift into a content smile as he leaned back, his spine resting comfortably on the couch.

Shouto instantly knew he wasn't going to say anything else, possibly for the rest of the night.

So instead of talking, Shouto rested next to Midoriya, thankful that the boy was sitting on his left side. He gently let a brief, warm temperature take over, his quirk thankfully coming through for him. Midoriya curled up against him, his legs coming up to rest on the couch. If his steady breathing and closed eyes were any indication, Shouto knew he was already fast asleep.

Thus, with the chilly air surrounding them, Shouto flickered his eyelids closed, leaking a bit of his warm quirk into his right side, enjoying the toasty feeling he received from the act. As the night wore on, the two boys sat there, sleep overtaking their every last sense.