Chapter Text
There was an old myth about the Goddess of love. That she was the product of the Moon and her beloved Ocean. She was born of delicate seafoam in the dead of sight. Hair soaked silver by the full moon, eyes descended from starlight as she rose ethereally from the depth, cradled in an iridescent seashell. That the first breathe sent from her lungs sounded like hope and woe, and all in her presence wept. So enthralled by her beauty, they could do nothing more than gaze. A creation born from the love Moon held for Ocean, and Ocean in turn held for her.
As Izuku gazed at the pale figure sleeping before him, he was reminded of that myth.
If he could have it his way, he would only look at Todoroki by moonlight. How soft silver glow washed across milky skin was captivating. Toned muscles encased in the smoothest marble momentarily relaxed as the weight of the day lifted from his frame. Multitoned hair almost bleached silver by the open window. Eyes, though shut, still seemed to shine with starlight, uninterrupted dreams cast behind thin lids.
Delicate was the only word Izuku was able to use as green eyes mapped the features of the man before him. Even in blissful slumber, Todoroki was a vision- body almost liquid in form as he melted into the bed. Shallow, even breathe, palms upright and hair spread across his pillow, away from his neck. Da Vinci was wrong when he created the Vitruvian man- the ideal body was before him now. Every curve, every hair intentionally placed as if he had posed for a photo. If someone had told Izuku that the sleeping man before him was indeed the God of Love, carved from the most genuine passions of Moon and Sea, he would have believed it no questions asked, for Todoroki was the epitome of grace and beauty. Anyone who was honored enough to gaze at his face indeed found it hard to look away.
He was captivating in every sense of the word.
Izuku licked trembling lips and gripped his backpack a little tighter, grounding himself in his resolve. He was so close to dropping everything, forgetting it all in favor of crawling into that bed. He could almost feel the coolness of the expensive linen sheets as they would have breezed across his naked flesh. The slight shiver that would wash across Todoroki’s body as the night air would coax goosebumps from his milky skin. Izuku would kiss them away, pulling the slight body against his own. He was always so amazed at the way Shouto’s body melted against his. So compliant as he would wrap their forms together and lean down to press his lips to a patch of red hair. What always started as innocent kisses always seemed to stir the man beneath him; soft sighs and wanton moans always followed. Izuku could almost see the events play out before him as he stood motionless at the foot of the bed. The bed he once shared with the sleeping man.
The constriction of his own heart within his chest startled him from waking dreams. He was closing this chapter of their lives. A painful, tear-stained chapter that Izuku wished so desperately to rewrite. But he knew it was impossible to change what was to come. This ending had been etched the moment they met. Knowing that someday they would have to decide to jump into the sky together- or fall into dark, unforgiving waves alone.
It had been years of them standing at the edge, hand in hand… staring into the abyss of unknowingness. And each time Izuku lurched forward, straining his wings to the sky, he felt the panicked hand of Shouto clawing him back to the safety of the edge. He could not keep doing this to himself. It was too painful. Throat constricting and eyes misty, Izuku Midoriya took the five short steps to the edge of the bed. The finality of them hung in the air, the creaking of floorboards so familiar to him that he could anticipate the pitch of each footfall.
His shadow reaching longingly out to Shouto, almost as if it wanted to detach itself from his being to curl in comfort along the other man’s side. He wished he could leave it, a sliver of himself to watch over the only man he had ever loved as they took to their separate paths. But leaving behind pieces was just a poor excuse to give yourself a fallback. And returning to this way of life was not going to make either of them better.
Shouto stirred, a soft sigh rattling from quiet lungs. He extended a hand towards the window, towards the side of the bed Izuku used to inhabit. But that side of the bed would remain cold. Izuku brushed the bangs from Shouto’s face, allowing himself one last moment to memorize his lover made from moonlight and seafoam.
“Be well, Shouto.”
There would be no kiss goodbye.
Rolling stiff shoulders, Izuku tried his best to lighten his steps as he walked out of the room he had come to call theirs. He imagined hearing the sleep-filled rasp of Shouto’s voice calling him back, begging him to stay. Soft fingers clutching to his own as he promised to be better, that everything would change. He imagined all their fights; all their problems washed away with the tears of relief that would stream down both their faces. Izuku could almost feel the warmth of Shouto’s cheek against his palm as he cradled the other and kissed him deeply.
But imagining a perfect world with Shuoto Todoroki was what had gotten him in this mess to begin with. And Izuku could no longer stand against the fire brigade. He had already been gunned down, and now he would allow himself to be coated in the dirt of their what-ifs and buried underneath the future they could never have.
Izuku’s permanent absence would be felt by Shouto when he woke the following day. The heavy blanket of loss settling on his thin shoulders as he sits up... and finds a key and wilted marigold on the pillow beside him. Years of creating bouquets kept him from needing a chart to discover the symbolism of the flower. Izuku had been a quick study- always remembering the hidden meaning behind flowers.
Shouto Todoroki traced an uncalloused finger across the dying petals and felt tears collect on his lashes.
A flower for despair and grief seemed fitting for a morning such as this.