#vmine

it's a strange feeling: foreign and unfamiliar. he doesn't really feel fear, not since his father weeded that emotion out of him by decade-long trainings and fighting exercises. shoto supposes, nothing can be as scary as looking up at his dad at age five and knowing he's going to strike any minute now.

but looking up at the midoriya's household from the street, he does feel his nerves a little. he's not very used to going over to his friends' places, and the fact that it's his boyfriend we're talking about just makes it all the more unnerving. inside, izuku is probably waiting for him, and so does his mother, and so does their boyfriend, katsuki.

if shoto were to be honest, he doesn't know how he winded up in this situation, dating both of his rivals and best friends at once. he remembers feeling immerse relief when they got katsuki back, watching izuku's lips sear onto katsuki's the very moment they first got close again, dancing in a passionate kiss. shoto remembers the ache in his chest, how he had very vivid memories of izuku's plush lips moving against his own, he remembers turning his back on them and walking out to deal with his sadness alone, and then-

'oi, half and half!' katsuki had yelled, strong arms still holding izuku in place. he had whipped his head up and into shoto's direction at the mention of him, looking worried now. 'where do you think you're going?'

shoto didn't think he knew, but apparently, he was going straight into both of their arms. izuku wants to date them both, so he does. his mother is okay with it. shoto daydreams about giving his father a seizure by explaining how he has not one, but two boyfriends now.

he rings the bell, and just twenty seconds later, izuku's shaggy, green hair shows up from behind the door. his freckled face lights up at the sight of his boyfriend, and his smile seems to warm all of shoto from the inside.

'mom, shoto's here!' he yells back over his shoulder, skipping down the stairs to open the gate and welcome shoto into his arms. physical affection is again something that shoto is unfamiliar with, but he can't bring himself to worry as izuku presses a quick kiss to his cheek just to get him to blush. izuku pulls back, and that's when he notices the bouquet in his hands.

'for your mother.' shoto says, still a little dizzy from his boyfriend's closeness. he needs to get his braincells in check. 'hi.'

'hello to you too.' izuku giggles, showing off his dimples. he sneaks his hand down to hold shoto's in his own, intertwining their fingers together as he pulls him towards the door. 'kacchan just got here, too.'

'oh? i hope i'm not late.' shoto blinks down at his wristwatch. it's 14:50, they agreed to meet at 3 o'clock.

'no, not at all.' he smiles. 'he just lives closer, that's all.'

they have izuku's laptop set up in his chair in front of the bed, on top of which they're comfortably sprawled out: most of all, katsuki, who decided to snuggle up to shoto's left side and then slid down to rest on his lap. shoto leans his head on izuku's shoulder, has an arm wrapped around his waist, watches as izuku softly strokes katsuki's spiky hair. they're watching some action comedy, three glasses of half-downed coke are sweating on the bedside table, and there's an empty popcorn bowl in between katsuki's sweatpants-clad legs. izuku's mom seemed to like shoto, which is great, because shoto also likes her and how okay she is with his son's love life.

'you look like them.' katsuki says, points at the screen. shoto flinches because he was certain he fell asleep half an hour ago.

'who?' he asks.

'not you, icyhot. deku.'

'yes?' izuku snaps to attention, apparently too busy trying to twirl the longer strands of katsuki's hair around his fingers.

'i said, you look like them.'

'the big, strong lead character?' izuku grins, flexing his arm. shoto's eyes snap to his biceps, tries not to swallow too loud.

'no, the damsel in distress.'

'i do not!'

'you do yeah, nerd.' katsuki's smirk is all teeth, all bad deed. izuku slaps his head a little.

'i agree.' shoto hums, pulls izuku's shirt down so he wouldn't touch his bare hip with his cold fingers. 'you're not very intimidating.'

'because you guys are?'

katsuki's meet shoto's eyes. there's a quiet understanding between them, one they speak out loud: 'yes.'

'wrong!' izuku laughs, leaning down to kiss the top of katsuki's head, and then straighten back up to give one to shoto's mouth. it lingers long enough that shoto can stick his tongue out and swipe it across izuku's lower lip, making him shiver momentarily. his grin is a little goofy, his cheeks flushed a lot when he pulls away. 'you're both adorable sweethearts.'

'who are you calling adorable, shitty nerd?!' katsuki argues, but from where shoto is sitting, his face clearly turns crimson red.

a stray drop of water slides down the side of the glass. shoto holds out his hand to freeze parts of the beverage. when he wraps it back around izuku, he snuggles into his side, a permanent smile dancing on his lips. it's in that moment, that small, casual moment that shoto realizes: happiness is just out of reach.

the momoi family home has this cute little balcony on the first floor that's available from both satsuki and her parents' bedrooms: there's a clothes-horse set up under the roof, two chairs by a plastic table, an ashtray for mrs. momoi's occasional cigarettes and sometimes, mr. momoi's dirty coffee cups.

the floor tiles are relatively clean, mopped up after each storm. daiki's sitting down there, in between satsuki's legs, leaning his head back to rest on her lap. she has small, delicate fingers dragging along the premature lines of his forehead, stroking down to follow the chiseled structure of his cheekbones, his jaw. he sighs contentedly when she reaches under his chin, tipping his head back.

'pull a little more, i need to crack my neck.' daiki murmurs, his eyes slipping closed like a satisfied cat's. satsuki's genuinely waiting for him to start purring at this point.

'i'm not cracking your neck for you.' she scoffs, bringing her nails down the line of daiki's nose. he imitates trying to bite at her fingers when they slip down to his mouth, getting a melodic laugh out of her. 'stop it, dai-chan!'

'what are you good for then, woman?' he snorts playfully, twisting his head until he hears a loud pop. he grunts, letting his head fall back onto satsuki's soft thigh, waiting for the petting to resume.

except, it doesn't. he turns his face around until he can get a glimpse of satsuki's pouting mouth, and he sighs.

'sorry, sorry. you're very good for tickling my face, that felt nice.' daiki says, hoping that would be enough to get her to start again. when it isn't, he furrows his brows a little. 'i didn't hurt you, did i?'

'kind of did.' satsuki admits, but she brings hesitant fingers to daiki's temples. 'but i can't help it.'

'can't help what?' he mutters, curiously searching satsuki's face as she massages the wrinkles right out of his eyebrows.

'liking you, even when you hurt me.' she smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to daiki's forehead, then the tip of his nose. he takes the opportunity to wrap his hand around the back of her neck, holding her there: staring into her vibrant, rose-colored eyes, letting her pink, soft, rose-scented hair fall around his face.

'well, i'm pretty irresistible, i admit.' he grins, taking in the sight and the sound of her laughter. and suddenly, he's pulling her down, down, until her breath hits his cheek, and he twists his neck just enough to be able to meet her lips with his own. both of their breath hitch, but it's daiki who recovers first, sliding his tongue into her mouth, making her gasp and shiver. he withdraws before he could get a cramp in his neck, but he still finds the time to whisper a soft, genuine: 'i'm sorry, satsuki,' onto her lips.

'i don't want to hurt you, you know?' he murmurs, settling back down on satsuki's lap, his arm twisting up to stroke her soft cheek. she nuzzles against his palm, taking it in her own hands, pressing a kiss into the center of it.

'i'm aware, dai-chan.' satsuki whispers, faint and soft like it's a secret only daiki can know.

he wants to say something more. they both want to say something more, the feeling that's been sitting heavy on their hearts all these years, waiting and waiting for a sign, a look, a lingering touch, anything that would get them to finally burst, to confess, to put their weight down.

but it's not needed. not under the clear, starry august sky, not in the warm night, not when they're too wrapped up in each other to care where they end and where the other begins. all they have to do is to breathe into the space between them, revel in each others' touch, and understand the words unspoken:

‘the disrespect.’ hawks laughs, slapping shoto on the shoulder. he hits harder than what would be necessary, but the boy doesn’t even bat an eye. sturdy. and tall. holy shit, is he taller than hawks now? ‘anyway, i really don’t mind. are you guys patrolling around here?’

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE HALF-AND-HALF, BEFORE I GO THERE AND BEAT IT!’ one youngster yells at them.

‘kacchan, don’t be so rude! he’s talking to hawks-san!’

‘friendly bunch.’ hawks snorts, and shoto just shakes his head with a smile.

‘they’re the best. i’m just trying to catch up.’ he admits, sounding sincere.

‘DON’T IGNORE ME, FUCKFACE!’

‘what are you doing around here anyway?’ shoto asks. ‘isn’t your office in a different city?’

‘yeah, i just came here to stretch my wings, take a walk.’ hawks says, ruffling his feathers a little for emphasis.

‘are you walking on your wings?’

‘n-no...?’

‘then how-’

‘WRAP IT UP NOW!’ at dynamight’s next shout, shoto visibly flinches. he seems more irritated than scared, at least to hawks.

‘i just wanted to thank you for helping my dad all those years ago.’ shoto says then, bowing his head a little. hawks takes it back, he doesn’t have an ounce of disrespect in his body. he’s just a little warped in the social area, and hawks has a fairly good guess where he gets that from. ‘i’ll be going now.’

‘wait, ah- how, how’s the old man?’ hawks tries to aim for anything but desperate. ‘i haven’t heard from him since the retirement.’

shoto looks at him thoughtfully, and those dual-colored eyes make hawks immeasurably nervous. he feels like he’s staring into his soul, opening up the secrets he’s got locked inside.

‘he’s well. i go home on weekends.’ shoto says, pulling up a notebook and a pen. ‘here’s the address. i think he’d appreciate the visit.’

the road to the todoroki estate was the most tiring one hawks had taken in a while. it’s not like it was far from where they met with shoto, but he spent the entire time worrying if he’s dressed well for the occasion, if he should just walk instead of flying to not get gross and sweaty - if endeavor will even let him in, or he’ll just pass by and get told off.

the house is huge, traditional, designed in classic enji taste. hawks could see the roof from a street away, almost walks into a lamppost while staring, his heart picking up the speed both from the scare and the nerves. his feet feel heavier with every step, walking down the street, finally getting to the gate-

and seeing todoroki enji, former number one hero, the feared endeavor sweep the walkway to his door, the scene way too casual to not send an already spring-up hawks into hysterics.

‘what the hell is that?’ hawks spits, laughter erupting from deep in his belly. the look on endeavor’s face just makes him shriek louder, his abs clenching with it. ‘is that- a fucking broom for ants, endeavor, you look so funny-’

‘can’t a man just do his chores in peace?!’ endeavor’s yelling now; sparks fly on his heated skin, and then they burst into flames.

‘now that’s the endeavor-san i know and love.’ he laughs, holding onto his own stomach, wiping his tears. endeavor’s face appears red under all that fire, he walks up to the gate to let him in.

‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ he mumbles, extinguishing himself as hawks walked in. he holds his broom under his armpit rather awkwardly, with the gracelessness of a man not quite used to doing the cleaning. hawks looks at him, observes: the slouch in his shoulders, the specks of grey in his stubble, the blush high on his cheek, the early wrinkles. he smiles to himself, reasons unknown, buried deep in a secluded part of his heart.

‘ran into your kid downtown, he said i should drop by and say hello.’ hawks lifts the nylon bags he’s been carrying, offers a lopsided grin. ‘i brought takeout.’

‘hmpft.’ endeavor is elaborate, as always. a man of few words and plenty actions, something hawks has always admired in him. ‘you can stay. only for the food.’

‘so you’re still very much hopeless in the kitchen, eh?’

‘don’t make me change my mind, brat!’

the house is huge on the inside, at least five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, and one living room all fit into one floor. all of it echoes from their steps, empty and lonely.

‘your boy said that he’s visiting you on weekend.’ hawks pries, shrugging his coat off as he hands over the bag. his fingers brush against endeavor’s fight-hardened, calloused ones and his heart feels like it could jump out of his chest again.

‘whenever he has the time. shoto’s a busy man.’ endeavor nods, his voice dripping with pride. hawks doesn’t need him to say any more to know how fond he is of his son. it makes him smile, actually. ‘why?’

‘and the rest of your family?’ he asks, a little more cautious.

‘i see rei and natsuo on holidays, and fuyumi usually spends her school breaks here.’ enji sets down the bag at the low table, grabs a pair of chopsticks from the dish rack. there are plates piled high there: it seems like he can clean up after himself, but refuses to put things away. hawks figures it’s pretty comfortable, considers that for a second before he realizes how much he can see into endeavor’s private life.

they sit down at the same time, and their eyes meet. ‘i’m not lonely.’ enji immediately turns defensive. there’s probably pity or sadness in hawks’ eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to his expression for a second.

‘i wasn’t suggesting you were.’

‘being alone is something i deserve. so i take my punishment with pride and strength.’ enji squares his shoulder, sitting up impossibly straight at his uncomfortable seat. he takes the boxes out, scatters them across the table for them to reach. no plates, though. ‘itadakimasu.’

they eat mostly in silence, warm, comfortable, and hawks can’t take his eyes off him. endeavor looks so casual, so approachable like this. he looks soft, in the slightly frayed sweatpants, a little weary from use, and the soft cotton shirt hugging his bulging muscles, stretching across his enormous shoulders. his face is a little thin, the wrinkles obvious on its unharmed half. from this close, hawks can see the grey hairs on his temple, too.

‘i’m looking for a place to stay.’ hawks announces once they’re finished eating. the look of surprise and something else - hope? no, it can’t be... - flashing across endeavor’s face startles him, but he’s not about to back down, now. ‘what-... ugh, how much do you think you’d rent out a room for?’

‘what?’ endeavor appears shell-shocked. ‘wh- why?’

‘well, because my apartment building is remodeling, and i’m pretty sick of living in the busier side of the city anyway. figured i’d change it up, move into the suburbs-’

‘that’s not what i’m asking.’ he snaps. ‘why me? don’t you have friends who’d let you stay with them?’

‘not anyone i’d like to move in with.’ hawks shrugs, playing with a few leftover grains of rice. ‘you know, i can cook, and i’m also willing to dry off and put away your damn dishes.’

‘hawks...’

‘c’mon, we can have sleepovers! i can braid your hair and you can braid mine. it will be fun!’

‘i can’t let you do that, hawks.’

‘okay, yes, i admit, your mane’s a little short for a proper french braid, but i can make do-’

‘hawks.’ enji’s voice booms. ‘no.’

‘you’ve known me for almost a decade, old man.’ hawks is talking back, suddenly fired up. ‘why won’t you just let me take care of you?’

‘because i’m a perfectly capable person who doesn’t need anyone to take care of them.’ he huffs, steam seeping from his nose. ‘and because i can’t let you do that to yourself.’

‘what, enji?’ he’s loud. is he shouting? he can’t tell.

‘waste your time on a bitter old man who isn’t worthy of you.’

now they’re pulling up the big guns. hawks deflates, props his head up on his elbows.

‘retired, but still on your self-deprecating bullshit.’ he sighs. ‘will you take it to the grave?’

‘hawks, i’m serious-’

‘and i’ve been serious, too. my entire life, about my feelings for you. you kept shaking me off, saying it wasn’t appropriate for someone your age dating someone so young, saying you were married, but all this time, i kept getting refused because you hate yourself too much to allow yourself to be loved?’

hawks doesn’t know when he stood up, but he’s falling to his knees beside enji now.

‘what kind of an asshole does that...?’ he whispers, staring right into enji’s fearful eyes.

‘an asshole who cares about you.’ enji murmurs, letting hawks hit him in the chest.

‘this isn’t “caring” about someone! this is just lying to yourself and keeping yourself from being happy!’ his fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

‘keigo-’ enji hisses, losing his balance and gripping the edge of the table so he doesn’t fall against the other man.

‘tell me no.’ hawks proposes, his free hand coming up to cradle his jaw, so prickly and manly and strong, the shudder that ripples through him from the gentle touch, making him so weak and vulnerable. ‘no more running away, enji, no more games. tell me no right now, and i won’t ever bother you again.’

endeavor furrows his brows, the skin around his scar pulling grotesquely over his face with the struggle. he takes a deep breath, and hawks gets goosebumps as the hot air from the exhale hits his skin.

‘i can’t...’ enji whispers, and hawks can barely hear over the sound of his heart shattering. he starts to let go, but he forgets to breathe and move altogether as enji leans in instead, hand coming up to hold him close by the back of his head. ‘i can’t say no, not anymore...’

the first touch of lips against his have his insides flutter, almost working him into a panicked frenzy. he can only hope that enji can’t feel his heart beating in his throat as he kisses him, deep and desperate and oh so careful. hawks clings into him, lets him chase him for a change, holds on for the ride.

when they separate, hawks feels dizzy, drunk with heat and pleasure. enji looks just about as much present, he seems dumbfounded.

‘well, uh.’ he says, and hawks would kick anyone who says he doesn’t have a way with words.

‘i can come on thursdays and fridays.’ he offers, for now. ‘that way your kids can still have you on weekends.’

‘thanks.’ that’s all endeavor says before he pushes a few stray strands of hair back from hawks’ face, leans in for another kiss.

and yet it's summer, and he's in kise ryouta's house all of a sudden. he steps over aomine daiki, the aomine daiki's extended legs lazily stretched on the floor for anyone to trip on, and looks back to see one of the number one basketball aces play some loudly jingling mobile game on his phone. a shudder ripples down takao's spine, he thought he wasn't easy to intimidate, but looking around, the sheer strength in the room is something to behold.

kise greets him by the open door to the kitchen: he smells like vodka cranberry, and he's swaying in one place, and there's a telltale curve of tipsiness in his grin.

'takaocchi!' he chirps as takao approaches him, bodily pushing his extended hand out of the way to wrap his arms around his neck and practically lick a sloppy kiss onto his cheek. takao flushes, and he isn't sure if it's because of the presence, the eagerness, or the nickname of the older player. 'hap-pyy birthday!'

'it's your birthday, you drunk idiot.' takao laughs, but he isn't sure what he should do with the armful of blonde leaning onto his shoulder. was it- was it even appropriate to call him an idiot? after all, he's only doing takao a favor by inviting him...

'oh yes, yes,' kise mutters, pulling away with a flash of a huge smile. from this close, takao can see that there's glitter on his face and mascara on his eyes. he might even be wearing lip gloss, or he's just naturally gorgeous on the mouth area. as well as every other area, takao states with a blush. 'then happy birthday to me! do you have a drink?'

and that's how takao, 17, got led into the kitchen by the miracles' copycat's arm wrapped around his shoulder.

takao stopped replying to his texts twenty minutes ago. midorima raises a brow at his phone screen as he gets off the bus, a strange sort of disappointment dwelling in his chest at the lack of response, one that has him locking the phone and slipping it back into his jacket pocket on instinct. he doesn't like being ignored, and he certainly hates being ignored by someone he's so interested in.

truth be told, he wasn't keen on attending kise's birthday party. it's not the sort of social outing he would've been particularly interested in, and he wasn't very into the idea of having to figure out what the blonde would want to be gifted, but he agreed to come with two conditions: takao is coming with him, and they're joining forces on kise's gift.

the basketball keychain was an easy find, but the necklace with a gemini symbol was something midorima had to look for on various places - hence why he's about forty minutes late to the occasion. he's never been to kise's place before, but he supposes it's not very hard to mistake the house booming with speakers. he nods to kagami standing around on the porch talking to his seirin senpais - they seem to be passing around a cigarette which midorima does not want to know what's inside of -. and steps through the open door.

the floor is a mess of destroyed balloons, confetti and candy wrappers, and the lights are off for the most part: kise seems to have hung up some extra-strong fairy lights just so they could still see each other. it feels like a club, which is exactly what midorima expected.

the first person he recognizes inside is akashi, sipping something out of a wine glass and staring curiously at the crowd. midorima decides to put aside their differences to approach him - he seems...relatively sober, after all.

'good evening, shintaro.' akashi raises his voice just above the volume of the music. he doesn't even seem surprised to see midorima here, despite this obviously not being his scene. 'can i help you with anything?'

if anything, his aversion to small talk has always been one of akashi's best traits.

'yes, i'm- looking, for takao.' midorima struggles not to yell, but still manage to be heard. akashi leans into his space, supposedly to hear him better.

'ah, your shadow.' he says with a smile. 'the last i've seen him, he went upstairs.'

a weird sort of weight settles in midorima's guts. upstairs... so that's why he hasn't been replying to his messages..?

'is he-' he starts, but he stumbles in his words. akashi raises his brow, such uncharacteristic behavior from you. 'with- with someone?'

'don't tell me you're jealous, shintaro?' akashi actually laughs, a curt noise that has midorima's face heating up. 'i should've known. no, he wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just the bathroom. i believe it's the third door to your left.'

'apologies. and, thank you.' midorima nods, bows a little for more effect. when he turns, he thinks he hears akashi say something along the lines of 'go get him, tiger'.

takao's words are slurred, and he's clinging into midorima's neck.

'been thinkin'- 'bout it so much-,' he mumbles, and his hold on the top of midorima's shoulder tightens. midorima sighs, exasperated. it was enough excitement to look for takao when they've been separated, but to find him piss drunk and sprawled in kise's bathtub was truly something else: midorima doubts his nerves could take any more of this.

'what's on your mind, takao?' he asks nevertheless, although he regrets it in point five seconds.

'kiss... kissin' you...' takao sighs, nuzzling into midorima's throat. the taller freezes, stops in his steps.

he what?

'you should kis'me, chin-chan...' he mutters, and his syllables blend together into a mess of sounds. 'kissm-e, should you.'

'alright, yoda-sensei, you've had enough for one day...'

'please kiss me, shin-chan.' takao begs now, his arms trembling around midorima. he squeezes his waist back, trying to anchor him, because now he's bleeding desperation, and he's aching, yearning to give in, too...

'yeah, well,' he sighs, and he can't believe they have to have this conversation like this. 'if you weren’t so drunk maybe i would.'

takao looks up at him. takao looks incredibly confused. takao's chapped lips pull into a huge smile, and his grey eyes light up, and he's on midorima before either of them knows it.

'you mean it? do you really mean it??'

'get off-' midorima struggles. 'yeah, i do! now let me take you home, and we'll talk about it tomorrow.'