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Shouto never particularly enjoyed going back to his house. House— not home. He’d never called it home. Homes were safe and his house was far from safe. He was safer at the school that got attacked by villains on a frequent basis.
Today, Shouto’s head was hung low as he stepped onto the porch. The multitude of books in his arms served as a shield to hide his face behind, so no one would see the tears pricking at his eyes.
His feet traveled across the floor, quick and silent, careful not to make even a single scuff sound.
His room, he just had to get to his room. Then he could recuperate in time for his afternoon and evening training.
Shouto felt the walls close in on him, swallowing him up, as if the path he walked on was crumbling away behind him, growing speed in its disappearing act. Throat closing up on him, he walked faster. As fast as he could without starting to run. Running was unacceptable.
Get to the room as quickly as possible, don’t let the old man see you. He repeated it like a mantra in his head, not allowing any other thought to take precedence. The ugly feelings in his chest only grew with their suppression, a tidal wave building in the back of his mind, a shaken soda just waiting to be opened so it could explode in someone’s face.
Unfortunately things tended not to work out the way Shouto foolishly hoped.
The old man spotted him. He grabbed Shouto’s wrist, yanking him to a halt. “Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry? You have training.”
That was the final nail in the coffin. The hand that popped the seal. Shouto exploded.
“No!” He hissed through grit teeth, bristling as he looked up at his old man, eyes full of hateful tears and mouth full of age old bitterness.
The old man blinked, recoiling slightly in shock. “What do you mean no?”
Shouto couldn’t do this. Not today. Not after what happened.
He slammed his books into his old man’s stunned face, taking a grim satisfaction in the sound of hardback covers colliding with flesh. Shouto yanked his wrist out of his old man’s grip and ran. Ignoring the yells that soon came after him.
He wasn’t safe inside these walls. He wasn’t safe anywhere. But especially not here.
Shouto made a beeline to the back garden. At least there he could be heard by neighbors and that would make his old man hesitate. It would be enough to buy him some time.
The back door slid open and Shouto was greeted with beautiful green. The color so bright it hurt. But he wasn’t here to admire flowers.
He flung his bag off his back, unzipping it with shaking fingers and digging out his phone and punching in a number Fuyumi had made sure he’d memorized by heart.
“Hello?” Natsuo’s voice came over the line, prompting, concerned and curious. “Shouto? What’s-“
“Can you come pick me up?” Shouto asked before he could finish, then cursed the tremor in his voice. How pathetic could he get? Unable to hide his emotions even when the person he was speaking with couldn’t see his face.
“Of- of course lil’ bro!” Natsuo exclaimed and the tone made Shouto grimace, he was obviously worried and doing a shit job of trying to hide it. Maybe it was a family trait. “Whatever you need!”
“Okay… thanks.” Shouto clicked off and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand through his hair.
He’d just taken his “avoid the old man” step further than necessary, but he couldn’t deny the relief that had swept through him at the confirmation he wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore. Not today at least.
Shouto was sitting on the front porch when Natsuo arrived, having walked around the side of the house rather than venture back inside. It had barely even been ten minutes since he’d made his somewhat embarrassing call for... help? Maybe support was the better word for it.
The last thing Shouto needed was help. He just needed a place to pull himself together. That’s all.
Natsuo’s car came tearing down the street and screeched to a stop, spinning wheels kicking up asphalt. Natsuo jumped out the car, running to Shouto, his varsity sports jacket hanging halfway off his body. “Shouto! I’m here!”
Shouto simply stood up, walking past his brother without a word and getting into the car. He kept his head low, bangs shading his face and the silver lining his eyes.
Natsuo stalled at the cold shoulder, peering in at Shouto through the window, then glancing back at the house with a shiver. Natsuo did the smart thing and got in the car too, revving the engine and driving away before the old man could try to prevent them from leaving.
Shouto curled up in the passenger seat, clutching his school bag to his chest and glaring at the window like it had said something that offended him. It wasn’t the window that was the problem, it was the person whose face was reflected in it.
The car ride was silent as they drove down their street, well not their street, not anymore. Natsuo had forsaken this street and that house long ago. Shouto wished he could follow in his older brother’s footsteps.
They turned off the street and Natsuo broke the silence. “Did dad-“ Shouto stiffened and Natsuo hesitated a moment, before continuing on in a softer voice. “Did he hurt you?”
Shouto shook his head, clutching his bag tighter and ignoring the way the metallic zipper dug into his arm. “Not dad.”
That made Natsuo pause. It wasn’t everyday that something painful that happened to Shouto wasn’t a direct result of the old man’s desires.
“If not dad… then who did?” Natsuo pressed.
The care he took with his tone, the gentle inquiries instead of demands, the way he kept his sentences short so they wouldn’t overwhelm. It reminded Shouto horribly of someone he’d tried so hard not to think of.
Shouto choked up, a sob building in his throat. Don’t cry! Don’t cry! But it was too late, the floodgates were opened and it all came spilling out. Shouto started crying, again.
Natsuo swore and pulled over on the side of the road, turning in his seat so he could give Shouto his full attention.
His gray eyes scanned Shouto from head to toe. “Are you injured?” He asked. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”
Shouto shook his head, clenching his teeth in time with his fists. “No, no. It’s not…” Shouto didn’t have a single scratch on him, not any recent ones at least. The rest were old scars from his accelerated training regimen. “It’s not... that.”
He was hurt, but not in the way Natsuo had assumed.
Natsuo chewed on his cheek, eyes darting around for any sign of a clue. “Then what…”
“I- I think I-“ Shouto blinked at the tears spilling over his face, willing them to go away. The tears didn’t obey. “I think I just got my heart broken.”
Natsuo blinked at him, slowly, as he registered the words Shouto had just admitted.
Shouto shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. He just needed to explain himself. “I called you because I didn’t want the old man seeing me like this.” He gripped the fabric of his bag tighter, nails digging into the fabric. “I knew it wouldn’t end well and I know it’s pathetic to let something as insignificant as my emotions make me act like this.”
Then Natsuo chuckled, the sound warm and grating against the frigid feeling in Shouto’s veins. His brother was laughing at him. Asshole.
Shouto glared at him, eyes sharp as pin pricks. Some brother you are.
“Sorry, sorry!” Natsuo wheezed, tears in his eyes. “It's just not what I was expecting.” He held his hands up in mock surrender, the size of them easily dwarfed Shouto’s own lady hands, as some people liked to call them. His sister, however, had told him they were pianist hands. They just had never been given the chance to try and play.
Shouto grumbled something unkindly towards his brother under his breath, discarding his bag and pulling his knees to his chest so he could rest his elbows and chin on top of them.
“So…” Natsuo wiggled his eyebrows up and down suggestively. “who is she?”
Shouto looked away, his ears tinted red and muttered, “Not a she.”
“Oh.” Natsuo said, then pushed his bangs back with his hand. The implications of why Shouto wanted out of the house so bad dawning on him. “Oh shit.”
The old man didn’t exactly approve of the LGBT community. In his mind, gay people didn’t reproduce so that made them burdens holding back society.
Who knows how he’d react when he found out his son wasn’t going to ”continue his legacy” but that wasn’t what Shouto worried about the most.
“Yeah,” Shouto snorted, more self deprecating than amused. “Oh shit is right. He’s in love with someone else and he’ll never love me and I’m just setting myself up for heartbreak because it’ll never happen.” Then he shoved his face into his knees to shut himself up before he could delve further into the pity party frenzy.
Natsuo was silent for a moment, then he asked, “Do you wanna watch a movie at my place? You can eat the rest of the ice cream in the freezer if you want.”
Shouto nodded, slowly. Ice cream sounded like it would help. At the least it would soothe his throat, still raw from crying.
“Okay,” Natsuo said and sat back down in his seat, buckling himself in. He started driving again with no further comments.
Natsuo didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, and if he heard Shouto sniffling, he didn’t mention it.
They arrived at Natsuo’s apartment and started watching some stupid baseball movie. Shouto wasn’t really paying attention, more focused on the carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream in his lap.
He shoved spoonful after spoonful in his mouth, not caring if he was acting like a pig and not caring if occasionally a salty tear fell into the ice cream. It was extra flavoring.
“So…” Natsuo drummed his fingers on thighs, slightly leaning towards Shouto. “Who is it?”
Shouto paused, the spoon halfway to his mouth. “I’m not telling you,” he groused, then shoved the spoon into his mouth.
Natsuo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and deflating into the couch cushions. “Fine, keep your secrets.” Apparently, his brother wasn’t willing to let it end there. “But how do you know he won’t like you back?”
“He- he likes someone else.” Shouto felt himself waver just thinking about it, his hand wobbling. He let the spoon drop into the ice cream. Appetite lost.
“Is he dating this person?”
Shouto leaned forwards, dropping the carton down on the coffee table with a thud. “No.”
Natsuo laughed, “HAH!” and clapped Shouto on the back. Shouto narrowly avoided taking a header off the couch, hands gripping the edge of the table. “You still have chance then!”
Shouto sputtered. Him? A chance? No way in hell. Why would anyone ever choose Shouto over her?
“You should try and woo him!”
Shouto flushed, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his neck. “Natsu-nii!”
Natsuo only snickered, a hand over his mouth. “I could help more if I knew who this boy was.”
Shouto glared, his mouth pressed in a thin line. Not gonna happen.
“I’ll call Fuyumi.” Natsuo pulled his phone out of his pant pocket. “She probably knows more about wooing boys than me.”
“No! Don’t call her!” Shouto lurched forwards, trying to grab Natsuo’s phone, but it was too late. The phone was already ringing. Shouto could only pray Fuyumi wouldn’t pick up.
Of course his prayers went unanswered. “Hello?”
“Fuyumi!” Natsuo exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. Shouto dropped his head into his hands, groaning. Now there was no going back. “Get over here ASAP! Shouto’s got a boy crush!”
“Oh?” Fuyumi tittered over the line. “Is that so?”
“Yup! Boy is in deep. His heart has been stomped on.” Natsuo nodded solemnly, a hand splayed over his chest, even though Fuyumi couldn’t see it.
“Well in that case”—a giggle was heard—“I’ll head right over. Be there in twenty.”
It was official. Shouto no longer had any siblings.
Natsuo hung up and swiveled around to look at Shouto. A shit eating grin on his stupid ass face.
“Eat shit.” Shouto told him.
Natsuo only laughed, throwing his arm over Shouto’s shoulder. “Don’t worry lil’ bro. I gotchu.”
Shouto sighed, resigned to his fate. Hopefully when his sister got here she’d be a voice of reason. Someone had to keep Natsuo on a leash.
Just as she had said, approximately twenty minutes of relentless teasing and badgering later, Fuyumi glided into the apartment. Her usually subdued expression was sunnier than Shouto had ever seen it, eyes bright behind her glasses.
“I’m so happy for you Shouto!” She clapped her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’ve found love!”
Natsuo wiped an invisible tear from his eye, sniffling. “They grow up so fast.”
“No! He-he doesn’t love me! You’ve got it all wrong—“
Fuyumi shook her head sternly. “Nonsense!”
“Bullshit!” Natsuo barked at the same time.
Shouto grunted, not having enough energy to protest. They were probably past reason anyways, they’d already formed their own opinions. Biased opinions about how there was no way someone couldn’t be enamored with their little brother.
Shouto deflated under their confidence in him, slumping down onto the couch and wishing he could melt into it. His head fuzzy and his body warm even though he wasn't using his quirk. Like he’d been wrapped in a wool pelt.
“It’s that boy from the sports festival, right?” Fuyumi asked, a finger tapping against corner of her lip. “The one with the green hair? Mido something…”
Behind her Natsuo whipped out his phone and started typing rapidly, little clicking sounds going off with each pass of his thumbs.
Shouto froze, his limbs locking. His thoughts screeching like a scratched radio track as he went through every possible moment he could’ve revealed his feelings for Midoriya. Was he not as subtle as he thought he was? Did the old man know too?
“How- how do you know that?” He breathed harshly, trembling from head to toe.
Fuyumi smiled and gave him a look. “You do know how often you talk about him, right?”
“Aww,” Natsuo cooed down at his phone, then turned the screen to Fuyumi, showing off a picture of Midoriya from the sports festival. “Look at his freckles!”
Shouto groaned into his pillow at the mention of those freckles— they haunted him day and night. “I know. They’re killing me.”
One of these days Shouto was gonna get hit because he was too busy thinking about Midoriya’s freckles, daydreaming about kissing each and every one.
Fuyumi giggled and Shouto pressed his burning face further into the pillow, wanting it to swallow him whole. He may have been smoking slightly, but either his siblings didn’t notice or were too polite to mention it.
Shouto’s ears picked up on little noises coming from Natsuo’s phone, but they didn’t sound like a video game. They sounded like a person talking. Shouto stiffened as he recognized Present Mic’s boisterous commentary. Natsuo was watching a sports festival clip.
“Holy shit,” Natsuo whispered, half in awe, half in horror. His eyes were glued to the screen. “Shouto, he’s breaking his hand.”
But it wasn’t just any clip, it was Shouto’s fight against with Midoriya. The turning point in his life.
An image flashed in Shouto’s mind. Bleeding purple knuckles and screamed words, It's your quirk isn’t it?
“He’s an idiot,” Shouto grunted into his pillow, the back of his eyes starting to burn. Why was he being such a cry baby today?
Fuyumi was hovering over Natsuo’s shoulder, she’d been a silent spectator until now. “No wonder you’re so smitten with this boy,” Her eyes left the screen for a moment to look at Shouto, more specifically his left side. “If he got you to use your fire.”
Nothing escaped Fuyumi’s eye. She was an observer at heart. It was a skill that made her such a good teacher. She could pick people apart like they were puzzle pieces, then do her best to put them back together again.
Shouto sat up, hugging the pillow to his chest, it had become a sort of anchor throughout the events of today. “Yeah…” His voice was soft and low as he made the admission, arms tightening around the pillow. “He saved me.”
Natsuo and Fuyumi exchanged a look. One Shouto recognized from time spent observing his teachers. It was a look that came when they realized something vital about the child under their care. It was like the look Present Mic had exchanged with Aizawa-sensei when they’d learned about Shouto’s refusal to use his left side.
But the look his siblings traded was a bit different, they didn’t just look concerned, they looked guilty.
They hadn’t been able to save Shouto. They’d tried to take off some of the heavy load, but it never seemed to be enough. That is, until a boy named Midoriya Izuku barreled his way into Shouto’s life. All in a single match. Shouto almost felt bad for the villains that would have to face Midoriya in the future. Almost.
Fuyumi was the first to break through the icy coat of awkwardness that had settled over them. “I’m glad. You deserved to be saved Shouto.”
“Yeah,” Natsuo agreed readily, shifting from side to side and scratching the back of his head. “Don’t blame you for falling for him.” He laughed nervously, holding up his phone to Shouto’s eye level. “I mean look at those freckles, they’re so cuuuute.”
Then a ringtone spliced through the air, cutting off Natsuo’s puppy eyed fawning.
Natsuo and Fuyumi glanced down to check their phones, but it wasn’t one of theirs. It was Shouto’s. He stiffened as he recognized the personalized ringtone. Midoriya.
His siblings looked to him with raised eyebrows, wondering who was calling him. Shouto bit back on a groan, dread pooling in his gut as he pulled his phone out.
The back of his neck tingled and Shouto glanced back to see Natsuo hovering over his shoulder, leaning over the back of the couch as he tried to get a glimpse at the screen. “Who is it? Is it dad?”
“It’s Midoriya.” Shouto said, mouth dry as ash.
Fuyumi gasped in delight and Natsuo seized Shouto by the shoulders, shaking him furiously. “Answer it! Answer it!”
Shouto had no choice, but to click the green button. As soon as he did Natsuo leaned over his shoulder to click the speaker button, the bastard.
Natsuo grinned in answer to Shouto’s narrowed eyes. It was a look that would leave most frozen in place, but it only seemed to empower Natsuo’s mischievous tendencies.
Shouto cleared his throat, shooting one last glare at Natsuo for good measure. He swallowed thickly, then made his voice known. “Hello?”
“Hey, Todoroki-kun.” Goosebumps spread over Shouto’s arms at Midoriya’s voice, hesitant yet earnest. In his peripheral Shouto saw Fuyumi nudge Natsuo with her elbow and mouth “kun”, a gleeful smile stretched across her face.
Midoriya continued on, unaware of Shouto’s siblings listening in. “I’m just calling to check on you… you uh… seemed kind of upset today— Is everything okay?”
Shouto’s stomach sank like a stone. Midoriya had noticed. He wanted to smack himself. Of course Midoriya had noticed! He was Midoriya!
“Of course, everything is fine.” Shouto lied, quick and cool.
Natsuo threw his arms up in exasperation. He opened his mouth to yell, then quickly decided against it, snapping his trap shut. He grabbed a notebook and pen, scratching in it with so much force it was a wonder the pen didn’t snap. By his side Fuyumi sighed and rubbed her temples.
The notebook was shoved under Shouto’s nose, writing in big angry black letters. ‘NO! YOU ARE NOT FINE! YOU DINGBAT!’
“Are- are you sure?” Midoriya asked again, because he was a stupidly kind and caring person.
Shouto shifted in his seat, an excuse on the tip of his tongue. He pointedly ignored the cut throat gestures Natsuo was making.
Then he sighed, shoulders falling. ”Actually,” His hands clenched his knee caps like vices. “...not really.”
Natsuo fist pumped and Fuyumi wrapped her arms around Shouto, a silent companion.
Shouto thanked the universe that his siblings were making a conscious effort to be quiet. He didn’t think he could live with the embarrassment if Midoriya found out they were listening in.
“What’s that weird shuffling?” Midoriya asked and Shouto immediately took back his previous thankfulness.
Both Natsuo and Fuyumi froze, going still as statues. Some help they were.
“I um…” Shouto’s eyes darted around the room for an excuse, then fell upon his brother’s galaxy cat phone case. “I got a cat.”
Natsuo’s cheeks puffed up and a small snort escaped his lips. Fuyumi grabbed Natsuo, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep in the strangled noises he was making. Fuyumi put a finger over her lips, gesturing for Natsuo to shut the fuck up. It looked comically like a hostage situation.
“Your cat… snorts?” Midoriya didn’t sound like he quite believed Shouto’s last-minute explanation. He was more perceptive than most gave him credit for.
“Yes.” He internally winced at the shitty lie, praying Midoriya would accept it. “It’s a disorder.” He gave his siblings the evil eye. “Are you making fun of my cat?”
Midoriya laughed, the sound like music to Shouto’s ears. “Noooooo.”
“Yes, you are,” Shouto huffed, with no real anger behind it. He bit his lip on the smile that wanted to bloom on his face. Shouto hadn’t even been talking to Midoriya for a minute and he was already feeling a million times better.
“Shh, that’s not important.”
Shouto rolled his eyes at that, it was such a Midoriya thing to say.
“But what is important is that you’re upset.” Midoriya said and Shouto stiffened. Shit. He thought he’d gotten away with it, but nothing escaped Midoriya. It was like he had a sixth sense for when his friends were in distress.
“Is it your dad?” Midoriya asked, voice soft, but with an undertone of protectiveness that sent a shiver up Shouto’s spine.
Fuyumi and Natsuo’s eyes went wide at that and they exchanged another look, but more concerned this time. The question on their face was obvious.
“I’m not upset because of my old man, this time.” Shouto was bristling like a cat, his shoulders stretched taut under the fabric of his shirt. “But he didn’t exactly cheer me up.”
Midoriya was quiet for a moment. It felt like everyone was holding their breath. Waiting for the next spoken words.
“Are you safe? You can stay at my house for the night if you need to—“
“Yeah I’m safe.” Shouto cut Midoriya off, gaze on his siblings.
Natsuo sniffled, tears starting to pool in his eyes as he gripped onto Fuyumi’s sleeve for support. Fuyumi stared at Shouto a moment, face soft as snow. Then Natsuo wiped his nose on her sleeve. Fuyumi sighed and handed him a handkerchief, ruffling his hair.
Midoriya’s sigh of relief was audible even through the phone. “That’s good… but why were you upset in the first place? Me and Uraraka were worried when you left school so quickly.”
Shouto sucked in a breath at the name, the memories rushing back to him of why he felt like his heart had been trampled by horses, then ran over by the following carriage.
“Did I say something that upset you?” Of course Midoriya noticed Shouto’s intake of breath, but he missed the actual cause of the drop in Shouto’s demeanor. “If I did something wrong I want you to tell me so I won’t accidentally do it again.”
“No… you didn’t do anything wrong.” Shouto said and he meant it. Midoriya was allowed to like whoever he wanted, even if it made Shouto’s chest ache. “I’m just… I don’t know.” He sighed, frustrated with the words that were a tangled mess in his mouth. “I just don’t feel good.”
“Are you sick?” Midoriya asked, completely missing the mark. “It could be that stomach bug that’s going around—“
Shouto groaned, wanting to bang his head against the wall. “No! It’s not that! It’s… It’s feelings— like emotional shit.”
Fuyumi swatted his arm and when Shouto looked at her incredulously, mouthed language. Ever the school teacher.
Natsuo had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing and Fuyumi turned to quietly scold him too, as if he was a rowdy child disrupting class.
“Ah…” Midoriya let out a laugh that sounded painfully forced. “Yeah, feelings are gross.”
Shouto didn’t know how to reply to that, so he didn’t say anything. He just sat there. Wallowing in his social awkwardness.
“So!” Midoriya burst out, making Shouto jump. “Um… if you want maybe we could go out and do something.”
A date! Shouto’s stupid lovesick mind gushed.
“To get out of our heads for a while.” Midoriya explained and Shouto could imagine him fidgeting nervously, an anxious and cute habit he’d never been able to break. “Uraraka and Iida were talking about mini golf. Apparently Kacchan beat Uraraka’s old score and you know how she is with competition.” Midoriya laughed, unaware of how the name drops of Kacchan and Uraraka were making Shouto squirm.
Shouto felt like an eel had wrapped itself around his stomach and throat, slowly constructing him. “Sure.” Shouto managed to choke out. “Text me a time and I’ll be there.” He didn’t know if he could handle another painful phone call.
Midoriya didn’t reply at first and Shouto waited with bated breath for what he would say. If he would press.
But he was Midoriya so of course he pressed. “Do you wanna talk about it or…” He trailed off, conversation puttering out.
“Not really.” Shouto twitched in his seat, an uncomfortable slick of sweat forming at the nape of his neck. “Like you said, they make me feel gross.”
“Yeah…” Midoriya agreed, not sounding very reassured. “Um… uh see you this weekend. But call me— or text— if you need anything, okay?”
Shouto’s teeth pulled at his cracked lips. “Okay, see you this weekend.”
Then he hung up, letting the phone slide through his fingers and drop onto the couch.
Natsuo sidled up to him. “So she’s the competition.” On his phone he’d pulled up a picture of Uraraka from the cavalry battle. Natsuo scowled down at the photo, like Uraraka was his mortal enemy. When in reality she’d done nothing wrong. She was nice. Like Midoriya. That’s why they got along so well.
Shouto pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and sighing heavily. “No… Natsuo. Uraraka— she’s not this evil person. She’s actually really nice.” Shouto curled in further on himself, burying his face in his thighs. “And emotionally stable. I can see why Midoriya likes her.”
Natsuo squawked, arms floundering. “This girl’s got nothing on you, Shouto! You got my cheek bones!” Natsuo let out another squawk as Fuyumi grabbed him by the ear.
“Ow ow oooow! Fuyumi!” Natsuo whined, flailing in a useless attempt to get her to let go. “I’m trying to cheer him up!”
“Stop making it all about physical appearances. Shouto is still a kid! Don’t go sexualizing him!” Fuyumi chastised.
Shouto frowned at that. He wasn’t a kid.
“No!” Natsuo protested, still flailing like a fish out of water. “That’s not- that’s not what I’m doing!”
Shouto sank into the couch, all his vigor draining out of him as he laid down on his side, his back to his squabbling siblings.
He took out his phone, idly scrolling through his camera roll. It was full of pictures of Midoriya. Midoriya smiling, Midoriya laughing, Midoriya with spilled katsudon on his shirt.
Shouto heard footsteps approach but he didn’t acknowledge the presence hovering over him. He just wanted to stare at pictures of Midoriya like the pathetic person he was.
“Oh no. Shouto, no.” Natsuo sighed as he saw what his brother was doing.
“It’s hopeless.” Shouto knew he was moping, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “He’ll never love me.”
Gentle fingers carded through Shouto’s hair and he recognized Fuyumi’s soft chuckle. “I think it’s a little early to be talking about love, Shouto.”
Shouto blinked like he’d been shot between the eyes and looked over his shoulder at his sister. His expression must’ve been pretty funny because Natsuo barked a laugh.
“No, Fuyumi’s saying that you need to get him to like you first then build love over time. Don’t go one hundred percent right off the bat, jeez Shouto.” Natsuo ruffled his hair and Shouto scowled. “It’s like kissing. You go ninety and let the girl- I mean the boy,”—He corrected with an uneasy chuckle— “and let the boy go ten.”
Shouto blushed, his face warming and steam filling his mouth. He buried his face in the couch cushion. “Natsu-nii, stop.”
His siblings laughed at his expense and Shouto tumbled further into the couch, grumbling.
Their laughter eventually quieted down and the couch dipped as they settled down next to Shouto.
“You wanna stay here for the night?” Natsuo asked and Shouto nodded mutely. “Okay, I’ll go get you some blankets. Fuyumi, you staying too?”
“Not this time,” Fuyumi said and stood. “I have papers to grade.”
“Aww, that’s too bad,” Natsuo returned, draping a blanket over Shouto’s prone form. “Next time then.” Shouto grabbed the blanket in his fists, pulling it up over his head and blocking out the overhead lights. He felt safe in his cocoon of darkness.
“Next time,” Fuyumi agreed easily. Shouto heard the door creak, then click closed.
Natsuo sighed. “Just you and me, huh Shouto?” Shouto didn’t bother to reply. He squeezed his eyes shut, shoulders hiked up to his ears. He just wanted to sleep and dream about freckles and big green eyes. “I’m gonna head to bed. Holler if you need anything.”
Shouto made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat. Letting his brother know he’d heard. Natsuo sighed again, floorboards creaking in time to the footsteps. Then the sounds faded away.
He poked his head out of his cocoon, looking around the dark, somber living room. It was empty, but somehow it didn’t feel that way.
Shouto shook his head at himself and settled back down. He should probably get some sleep.
That night he did dream of big green eyes and freckles as he’d predicted, but he also dreamed of warm gray eyes and comforting arms.
The old man, for once, was right. Family was important.