Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a well known fact to Shouto by now that downstairs in the townhouse apartment was usually deserted in the middle of the night. 

It didn't used to be of course. Tokoyami was arguably more of an insomniac than he was, and even Shoji had trouble sleeping from time to time. They all did, really. It was hard not to after the high school experience from hell.

A brief pang of bittersweet nostalgia ebbed at his consciousness as he began his descent of the stairs. He could at least admit to himself by then that he kind of missed standing around in the kitchen with the other two, silently sipping the sleepy time tea that all of them knew wouldn't work, coming up with increasingly outlandish hypotheticals to kill the time.

Unfortunately for him, they moved out three years ago. 

Shoji left first. Him and Hagakure had picked up where they left off in high school and moved in together two years after they graduated, and Tokoyami finally got enough of a raise to afford an apartment all on his own shortly after that. By then, Shouto was making more than enough to afford rent on the two story house by himself, but the thought of living there alone was almost as unbearable as the thought of moving back in with his father.

The possibility still haunted him, which was why Shouto was eternally grateful that Sero agreed to stay and split rent 50/50 with him when they moved out. 

Ah, Hanta Sero. Shouto was honestly surprised they got along as well as they did. Prior to becoming roommates Shouto doubted he ever interacted with him much beyond training exercises or asking him for a pen in class. Living with him had honestly been a dream thus far. He cleaned up after himself, made sure they paid rent on time, and even watered Shouto's potted plants, when he asked him to. Shouto would even consider him a friend, if he knew a little more about him.

He wanted to know more.

The problem was, he had no idea how to really talk to people besides Midoriya, and though he'd come out of his shell a little more since he started therapy after graduation he was still absolutely terrible at communicating effectively. Which was why he was glad he usually had the entire first floor, minus Sero's bedroom, to himself when he couldn't sleep in the middle of the night. 

Usually. 

As Shouto got to the bottom of the steps, he noticed a faint tune coming from the kitchen of their home. That was... strange. Usually Sero was asleep at this hour. Shouto glanced at his phone. Half past two in the morning. 

Slowly, he quietly made his way across the house. The closer he got, the clearer the music became. The song was also off. Sero usually played music when he was cooking, but it was generally more fast paced than what was currently winding its way down the hall. Shouto was unfamiliar with the slower, softer kind of song. 

As the kitchen came into view, he caught sight of Sero swaying slowly in the kitchen, holding a whisk like a microphone as he sang along to the music. Shouto snorted, stifling his laughter as one of their cats stared at the raven haired man seemingly serenading her. 

The song came to an end and Sero turned back to the sink, scrubbing dirty dishes as another song with a happy tune began to play quietly from the Bluetooth speaker sitting on the island. 

"I didn't know you knew Spanish." Shouto said quietly, causing Sero to jump and look up at the doorway. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." He mumbled, resisting the urge to fidget anxiously. Sero stared at him for a moment and then allowed a soft, crooked smile to make its way onto his face. 

"'S fine." He said quietly, shutting off the water and drying his hands on a towel. "Sorry if I woke you up. I tried to be quieter but sometimes the music just hits ya right in the feels, y'know?" Shouto did not know, so he ignored that and instead waved off the concern. 

"I couldn't hear you." He said. Speaking loudly felt like a sin at that hour, so Shouto kept up the quiet tone of voice even though nobody was around anymore to bother. "Just couldn't sleep." He made his way to the cupboard in the corner, digging through it, looking for some kind of tea he could drink and pretend would work. He set a box of chamomile down on the counter and eyed the stove, noticing the timer on the clock panel reading just over five minutes.

"What are you doing awake this late?" Sero shrugged and began toweling off dishes to put away. Shouto didn't know why he bothered doing that, but he couldn't complain. 

"Makin' brownies, dude. What else is there to do at two in the morning?" He said, setting a large mixing bowl in the dish drainer. 

"You say that like it's normal to do anything this late at night." It wasn't normal for other people, is what he meant. Shouto was usually more productive at night time. It was how he managed to keep up with all his damn paperwork.

Sero shrugged again and turned the volume up on the song playing. And again, it was in Spanish, so he couldn't really recognize anything the woman was saying. It was still easy enough to listen to, though, so he didn't mind it all that much.

"When did you learn Spanish?" He asked, switching topics so they didn't have to dwell on the rarity of the interaction. Their real conversations were few and far between, and Shouto was somewhat determined to hold onto what little he knew about his roommate.

"I have family in Mexico and Spain." He said with a small smile. "And most of them don't speak Japanese, so it was either learn Spanish or don't talk to em. My mom kinda just raised me on it." He gestured to the speaker on the counter as he turned to put the mixing bowl away.

"This is her favorite song, actually." Shouto turned to grab the kettle from one of the lower shelves, even though he didn't need to. Normally he'd just use his quirk for this, but being around Sero made him feel awkward about it. Sero didn't typically use his quirk around the house unless it was to stop one of the cats from shattering something. It felt out of place for Shouto to use his for simple convenience. 

"What's it called?" He asked, glancing over at the speaker. Sero paused and thought it over for a moment before smiling over at Shouto. 

"'Amor de mis Amores', I think." He said as the song ended. 

"What does it mean?" Shouto asked, filling the kettle with water and sticking it on the front burner. Maybe he should buy another electric one. 

"Love of my Loves." Sero smiled. Shouto shook his head, a confused look on his face. 

"That doesn't make sense." It was grammatically incorrect unless they were talking about Shakespearean English, which, given the song was in Spanish, it was definitely not. Sero chuckled softly and shook his head, leaning against the counter and tilting his head at Shouto. 

"It doesn't have to. It just has to feel good. Y'know?" He said. "And it makes more sense in Spanish."

Only, that didn't make any sense either. But Sero had a habit of saying things that didn't make sense to Shouto anyways, so he disregarded it. The timer on the oven beeped, and Sero pushed off the counter to turn it off. Shouto moved out of the way so he could grab the oven mitts from the drawer next to the sink and pull the hot pan out, setting it on top of the stove. 

It was always interesting to watch Sero move, like a current shifting seamlessly through a stream. Fascinating, even. Shouto had always wondered how he managed to make every movement so fluid, even when they were mid fight and he was badly injured.  

"So what prompted the decision to make brownies at two in the morning?" Shouto was horrible at small talk by all measures, but he figured he should probably say something before his staring tipped into some semblance of rudeness. Sero moved the pan onto a wire rack on the counter and slid the oven mitts off his hands, chuckling a little like he did when something should be obvious to Shouto but wasn't. 

"I was almost outta gummies and I figured I should switch it up a little. Been a while since I've made brownies." He said. Shouto furrowed his brow as he began counting the tea bags in the box. He'd have to go out for more soon. 

"So you're... switching sweets?" He really had no idea what was wrong with just sticking to gummies. If anything, they were a lot less filling than brownies. Sero snickered and shook his head. 

"Dude, it's pot." He said, deadpan. Shouto's confusion only grew at this. 

"What?" Sero blinked at him.

"Y'know, I knew you grew up sheltered, but this is a whole new level of living under a rock." He chuckled. "I'm talkin' about Mary Jane, Todoroki." 

"Who's that?" Sero rolled his eyes and tried again.

"Weed?" 

"Like dandelions?" 

"For fucks sake-" Sero sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jeez, dude, you really gotta get out more." He said, and the amusement in his voice was so tangible that Shouto actually noticed it that time. When he looked over, Sero was staring at him expectantly.

"Marijuana?"

It took Shouto a moment to register the word, but the moment he did he whipped his head toward the amused looking man next to him. 

"Oh." He said softly, clearing his throat as he looked down at the rack. "Uh... that's... okay then." Illegal is what he meant to say, but he couldn't exactly do that anymore. Marijuana was legalized in Japan three years prior. Maybe irresponsible was the right word? He'd have to figure it out later. "Don't you work in the morning?" He asked, looking back at Sero. He shook his head, curly hair bouncing with the movement. Shouto couldn't remember the last time Sero gelled it back like he used to in school. He'd been shocked when he first saw it naturally.  

"Nah. And even if I did," He paused to cut the tray into squares as the kettle began to whistle. Shouto took it off the stove and poured himself a mug of tea, searching through the cupboard for honey. "It's not like I'm not some level of high all the time anyway." When Shouto banged his head on the cabinet door spinning around to look at him, Sero laughed at his pointed glare.

"What? It makes me better at my job, man." He said, pushing off the counter once again to grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to Shouto. And Shouto, trying his best not to be judgmental, simply shook his head and tried to be a little more logical with his approach. 

"Isn't that unsafe, though?" He asked, thinking back to all the risky stuff Sero had done when they were on patrol or missions together. Sure it paid off in the end, but it was still very unnecessary and could've gone very wrong. "What if someone gets seriously injured because you're high on the job?" Sero shook his head, picking up one of the neat squares and yelping slightly when he found the sides of the pan to be too hot.

"Case in point." He said, gesturing to the finger in Sero's mouth. Sero glared at him, though there was no heat behind it. 

"Hey, I never said I get high at work. I get high after work." He clarified, shaking his head. "Helps take the edge off, y'know? Like how some people like to have a drink after they get home." He said, breaking off a piece of the already crumbling treat and popping it into his mouth.

"Mine just lasts longer." 

"Does the agency allow this?" Shouto asked, stirring a spoonful of honey into his mug. He briefly considered adding milk to it, then decided against it. He liked his tea better when it was too hot anyway.

Sero snorted and rolled his eyes. 

"'Roki, dude, if they didn't don't you think they woulda kicked me to the curb by now?" He asked, one eyebrow raised as he broke off another piece. "We do drug tests, like, once a month. There's been weed in my system since I was fourteen."

Shouto took a moment to think about that, then laughed abruptly at the idea of it. 

"We should've been friends in high school." He said quietly, sipping from his mug. The drink coated his tongue, stinging slightly as he swallowed. He always liked the subtle sweet aftertaste honey left. "My father would've had an aneurysm." Hanta chuckled at that, rolling his eyes so far back Shouto almost snorted at the sight of it. This was a topic they could always agree on.  

"Didn't he blow a fuse when he found out you and Midoriya were dating in second year?" He said, thinking back to the major public freakout Endeavor had had when he ran into them on a date. It had made national news, resulting in Endeavor plummeting in the rankings to damn near eleventh and Hawks taking his place nearly overnight. 

"Completely lost it." Todoroki said, rolling his eyes. Not to mention he only came to 'accept' the relationship the day before they broke up. Then he paused, recalling one particular incident, and tilted his head at Hanta in a way that reminded the other man of a very tall cat.

"Didn't you get up in the middle of class to go buy Hawks merch as soon as Ashido told you?" He asked, sipping his tea. "What was the punishment for that stunt?" Hanta grimaced, chuckling under his breath. 

"Two weeks detention, extra homework, and dish duty for a month." He said, ticking each individual punishment off on his fingers. "Totally worth it to see his face when he came in as a guest speaker though." Todoroki made a face akin to surprise and laughed, choking on his drink. 

"That was you?" He asked, smacking himself in the chest a few times to clear his throat. "You were so covered in it I didn't even recognize you." He chuckled, forcing himself not to think too much about how weird he probably looked. He wasn't used to expressing himself so freely, even after spending years in therapy that hadn't changed. 

He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, instead looking over at an amused Sero.

Hanta stared at him for a moment, thoroughly taking into account how Todoroki looked when he expressed his joy. In all the five years they'd lived together, Hanta had only ever seen Todoroki laugh once before then, and even then it was just a little chuckle. It was pretty, he regarded with idle curiosity. Todoroki was pretty when he laughed.

And yeah, Todoroki was pretty all the time. He was the pretty boy of their class, and he was the pretty boy at their agency too. It was a miracle he managed to get anything done, considering the amount of people wanting photos and autographs from him. Not to mention the amount of people who threw themselves at him. Come to think of it, it was kind of surprising he'd only dated one other person since high school. Surely he'd been attracted to people other than Midoriya and that guy Setsuko, right?

Hanta shook his head, attempting to get through the haze in his brain. 

"Sorry, what?" He asked, chuckling a little. "Sorry this stuff is stronger than I thought it was." He said. Todoroki looked at him for a moment and sighed. 

"I said you should've told me. I would've bought you something." He said, a hint of teasing in his voice. That was new too, Hanta noted with a small grin. He liked how much more expressive Todoroki had gotten. It was nice to be able to read the guy every once in a while. He glanced at the mug of tea on the counter and looked back at the dual toned man. 

"Y'know weed helps with anxiety too, right?" He asked, gesturing to the pan of brownies rapidly cooling on the counter. "And insomnia." He added. "You ever tried it?" Todoroki looked at him for a moment, seemingly surprised by the question as he shook his head resolutely. 

"We are both aware of how my father behaved for most of my adolescence, yes?" He asked, fingers tapping against the mug in his hands. "He grounded me for eight months because I took aspirin once without asking. I wasn't exactly a rule-breaker." Hanta raised his brows at him, an incredulous smile playing on his lips. 

"Seriously?" He nodded. "What the hell?" He turned back to the pan and reached into the cupboard next to him to grab a container to put the treats in. He noticed Todoroki staring and looking back at him, holding the container out toward him invitingly.

"Wanna try one?"

Shouto shook his head immediately, looking like Sero just accused him of murder, and put his hand up in polite refusal. 

"No thanks." He said, anxiety spiking at the very idea of it. "I'll stick to my vices." He held up his mug, tapping the edge against the Tupperware in a make-believe toast. Sero shrugged and popped a lid on the brownies, sticking the dirty tray in the sink to wash later. 

"Offers open whenever." He said, then turned and made his way back to his room. As Shouto watched his gray sleep shirt retreat down the hallway, he couldn't help but think about taking him up on the offer. He really could use the rest. 

Then he shook his head to clear it of the ludicrous idea, set his mug in the sink, and headed back to his room. 

He didn't sleep. 

Chapter Text

Throughout the week, Sero's offer came to the forefront of his mind more often than Shouto thought it would. 

Usually he could ignore things like that, especially when it came to work. Kaminari had offered him the same sort of deal when they were in high school, and Shouto had no problem ignoring it then. Then again, the physical exhaustion the hero course imposed on its students meant his need for rest overwrought his worried mind. He didn't have such luxury now. And he wasn't really too keen on doing anything to potentially get himself killed, which back then, included doing anything his father didn't want him to do. 

But his father had no say in his life anymore. And damn if it wasn't tempting. He'd slept a total of four hours last night, in half hour intervals, and he was honestly surprised the bags under his eyes weren't any darker than usual. Luckily he was on desk duty, so his lack of sleep wouldn't inhibit his effectiveness on patrol, but it was getting troublesome. Maybe he should go out and buy another bottle of melatonin gummies. Not that they'd do anything anyway, given that he'd finished the last one with little to no results. 

In the midst of his thoughts, he dozed off at his desk, chin settled on his arms folded on the file ridden surface. It wasn't like he had much to do anyway. Maybe if he rested his head for a few minutes, he'd feel better...

He startled awake half an hour later when someone gently shook his shoulder, pushing up off his desk immediately and nearly scattering papers everywhere. After he got his wits about him and realized that he fell asleep at work, he sighed and ran an exhausted hand through his hair, looking up at whoever woke him. 

It was Sero.

Who gave him a contemplative look, took a breath, and briefly straightened up Shouto's desk. 

"Right, c'mon. Time to go home." He said, offering him a hand. Shouto glanced at the clock in the left hand corner of his desk. 

"It's two thirty-six." He said plainly. Sero nodded. 

"So?" 

"I'm scheduled until five." Sero rolled his eyes and looked up as their supervisor made her way down the hall, snagging her attention with a friendly smile. 

"Hey! Ms. Miyano! Is it cool if me and 'Roki head out for the day?" He asked. She looked up, and it looked like she was about to say no until she fully took in the state of Shouto's entire being. His costume was off, his hair was about as messy as she'd ever seen it, though still perfectly parted down the middle, and he looked generally way too exhausted to be of any use. For crying out loud, he was struggling to keep his eyes open just standing there.

"Jesus Christ, absolutely." She said after a moment, looking back down at the files in her hands and starting back on her path. "I don't want him driving." She called back to Hanta, who gave her a thumbs up and an affirmative nod. He turned back to Todoroki and shrugged, offering him a hand again. 

"Now will you please let me take you home so you can take a nap and stop looking like death?" 

Shouto stared at him for a moment, then sighed and stepped around his desk carefully. He wasn't going to be getting much of anything done if he stayed anyway. And, well, a nap admittedly sounded incredibly appealing right then. He was consciously fighting gravity with every step he took, and his bones ached, like the exhaustion has seeped deep enough to imprint itself on his skeleton.

He knocked out in the car on the way home, and if Hanta took a picture before he woke him up, that was nobody's business. 

Shouto ended up doing chores all day instead of sleeping, much to Sero's apparent irritation and Shouto's annoyance. For some reason short naps in random places were okay, but as soon as he crawled into his own bed he just couldn't sleep. Alas, his mistress was irony, and she was often just as cruel as she was hilarious.

The house was in pristine condition by the time he was finished. All his laundry was done. The kitchen was spotless. He even cleaned out the oven, which they honestly should've probably done a few months ago, but no time like the present. 

By the time he got on his computer to check his email, it was nearly seven in the evening and he hadn't slept a minute since he got out of the car. 

It was there in his inbox that he found arguably the most confusing email he'd ever read from their boss. 

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Hero Shouto,

It has been brought to my attention that you appear not to be allowing yourself enough sleep.

As your supervisor, it is my job to make sure all of my agents are well rested and capable of fulfilling their duties with as little risk involved as possible. I don't think I need to mention to you that being sleep deprived on the job can lead to major consequences.

Upon reviewing your file, I've discovered you haven't had a single vacation day in the past two years. As it is long overdue, I have elected to put you and hero Cellophane on a mandatory break for the next fourteen days. 

This is not a punishment. Really, you should be taking a vacation at least bi-annually. That is what your six weeks of paid vacation time is for. 

Please use this time to relax, and for the love of god, if you return to the field without a full eight hours of sleep I will fire you. 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   best wishes, Asuka Miyano

PS; It might not be a terrible idea to ask Cellophane for help. He tends to have a variety of medicinal products available to him. Have fun :)

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Shouto stared at the email for all of five entire minutes, trying to wrap his head around what he just read. 

First of all, their direct supervisor had just benched him for falling asleep at his desk, which certainly felt like a punishment to him. The whole reason he hadn't taken a vacation in two years is because he didn't know what to do with himself when he had time off. He'd rather be working than be anxious about not working. Now it appeared he had no choice. 

Second of all, their direct supervisor had just encouraged him to get high with Sero. 

And yes, she didn't really say that in the email. But Shouto was not so socially inept that he was incapable of reading between the lines of the postscript she included. Why a higher up would encourage the use of marijuana over a problem as trivial as insomnia, he didn't know. 

Maybe she did have a point though, he thought abstractly, idly drumming his fingers on the surface of his desk. Maybe he should really consider it. There wasn't much else he hadn't tried short of knocking his head against the wall until he passed out.

With a sigh, he pushed back from his desk and shut his laptop, slipping on his slippers and silently making his way down the stairs. What was the worst that could happen? They had the next fourteen days off. If he was going to try anything, it might as well be when nobody was at risk of getting hurt. 

He hesitated outside of Sero's door, contemplating turning back and just going back to his room, but that option was quickly eliminated when Sero opened it with a smile. 

"I was about to come find you." He said, leaning on the door frame. Shouto shuffled on his feet, fidgeting minutely with his sleeves. He knew, logically, that there was nothing to be nervous about, but that didn't stop him from being nervous anyway. He'd never done anything like this before, and compared to the years of experience Sero has with the stuff it was becoming increasingly obvious Shouto has no idea what to expect. Sero opened his door fully and beckoned Shouto to come inside, shutting it behind them. Shouto took in the decor as he realized he'd never been in Sero's bedroom before. Eventually, he looked back at his roommate. 

"Did you get the email from Miyano too?" He asked, toeing at the shag rug Sero had on the floor. It was shaped like a mushroom, which made Shouto smile a little in spite of his nervousness. 

"The one all but bullying me into giving you pot?" He said with a chuckle. "Yeah dude, I got it." He gestured to his desk, where his laptop was still sitting open on its surface. His expression softens a little, though the room was dimly lit, so it was hard to imagine what he was thinking.

"I don't wanna push you to do anything you don't wanna do, though." He said softly. He was giving Shouto an out, he realized with a slight pang of guilt. He didn't want him to feel pressured. 

But Shouto really wanted to start sleeping so he didn't get benched for another week, so he shook his head and steadied his resolve. 

"It couldn't hurt to try it. Not like I'm working any time soon." He said, surprised by the clear nervousness in his own voice. Sero smiled at him and nodded, gesturing to his bed. 

"Sit down then. I'll find ya somethin' that won't freak you out." 

Five minutes later saw Shouto downing a shot glass filled to the brim with some kind of white, fizzy substance. It tasted faintly fruity, though he couldn't discern what exactly the flavor was. He lowered the glass from his lips and looked at Sero, uncertain. 

"What now?" He asked quietly, sitting uncomfortably stiff on the edge of the bed and holding the shot glass between his palms. Sero smiled lopsidedly and plucked the glass out of his hands, setting it on the bedside table and sitting next to Shouto. He stretched out in his bed and motioned for Shouto to do the same. Shouto stayed right where he was, back straight, palms pressed together. 

"Now we put on somethin' not too interesting and relax." He said, grinning at his companion.

"How will I know I'm..."

"You'll know, dude. Trust me." 

Now, it's important to acknowledge that Hanta was already high, and had been since the moment they got home. And given that he was high mostly always, he didn't know how Todoroki would react to it. It'd been so long he hardly remembered his first time.

He scrolled through an app on his TV for a moment and put on some kind of kids show, which Todoroki seemed confused by but didn't question. Exactly half the episode went by before Hanta clocked the moment the drink started to kick in. 

Todoroki's shoulders slowly relax from their tense position, sagging as he finally let go of some of the tension he always carried. Hanta couldn't remember the last time he saw him slouch, and the fact that he was tense all the time really didn't seem like it helped. When the dual toned man's eyes went from nervous to hazy, he knew it worked its way into his nerves. Todoroki leaned back against the bed, letting out a quiet sigh. 

"Oh my God." He whispered, closing his eyes as his vision blurred. Hanta smiled over at him and lightly tapped the spot next to him. 

"Right?" He said quietly. "Now come up here and get comfy. Laying like that'll cut your circulation." He chuckled lightly. And Shouto wanted to listen to him, he really did, but he did not want to move. After a few minutes of him laying there in a slightly uncomfortable position, he felt rather than heard Sero sigh. A second later, strong arms wrapped around his torso and hauled him up higher in the bed, adjusting him into a much more comfortable position. He sighed contently and looked up at Sero upside down through his lashes, pupils so dilated it was hard for him to focus. 

"Does it always feel this nice?" He asked lazily, leaning a little closer to the other. He was distantly aware that he and Sero were not exactly 'share a bed' friends at that point, but his thoughts were too hazy for him to really care. The constant stream of anxiety that usually plagued him wasn't totally gone, but it was significantly dulled. And yeah, he could soundly say he could definitely fall asleep like this. Sero chuckled and shrugged. 

"Feels nice, right?" He said in a quiet voice, and he was looking at Shouto in a way he wasn't entirely familiar with, but he brushed it off as him being even worse than usual at social cues. He nodded, looking away from him to see what he put on the TV. It was kids cartoon, though not one he was familiar with. 

"What's this?" He asked, surprised by how hazy his own voice sounded. Sero looked at him with a confused smile. 

"You've never seen scooby-doo?" He asked, chuckling at the thought. Shouto shook his head. 

"Shitty childhood remember?" He didn't usually swear either, but he didn't have the presence of mind to really have a filter at the moment. Sero hummed in response, rolling his eyes. 

"I'm gonna smack Endeavor one of these days." He said. Shouto shrugged and stretched out a little, shifting so he could lean his head against Sero's arm. Sero, seemingly knowing what Shouto was looking for before he did, shifted his arm out of the way and pulled him into the space it left, carefully weaving his fingers into his hair. Shouto sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed closer. And again, they were definitely not anywhere near close enough for this, but it just felt nice. When Sero started gently running his fingers through his hair, he leaned into the sensation, eyes fluttering back open to look up at him. 

"How'd you..." He mumbled, then trailed off, because he didn't care about the answer. How did he not realize he was that touch starved so much sooner?

"Some people just kinda get cuddly when they're high." He said, looking down at him and brushing his hair out of his face. "Kind of assumed you'd be like this, since you don't accept affection from anyone but Midoriya." Shouto nodded, then stopped and sighed. 

"Not so much anymore, actually." He said, feeling briefly guilty about it. "It got sort of weird after he started dating Shinsou and I told him not to worry about it anymore." Sero hummed, and maybe it was just because he was high, but Shouto could swear he pulled him that much closer. He settled into the feeling with a little satisfied noise. 

"When was the last time you had a real hug?" He asked, shifting to get a better look at him. It took him a moment to process the question, and a little longer to think about it, but he finally found a number somewhere in the abstract recesses of his mind. 

"Two years give or take." He said quietly, shrugging it off as he leaned further into the feeling of Sero's hand in his hair. Sero stayed quiet for a moment, and when Shouto looked back up at him he was staring at him, his expression something akin to pity or empathy, he wasn't sure which. Shouto frowned and poked his cheek.

"Hey don't get all weird on me." He said, rolling his eyes. "I'm supposed to be the one acting off." That made Sero chuckle, which made Shouto smile, and then they settle back into comfortable silence. 

Shouto eventually shut his eyes and then fell asleep entirely. 

Hanta kept playing with his hair until he passed out too. 

Chapter Text

Shouto wakes up in the middle of the night with two things:

Severe cotton mouth and an absolute refusal to move from his comfortable position. 

He's pressed up against a warm soft something, and he is loathe to give it up. Ignoring his thirst, he presses further into the warmth beside him, burying his face in whatever comfortable darkness he has managed to attain. 

Only it shifts, and then suddenly he remembers that he is in Sero's bed, in Sero's room, and he's probably burrowing his face into Sero. 

With a slightly startled sound he sits up fully, pulling back and looking over at the sleeping man next to him. Thankfully he's out cold, and Shouto takes a deep breath in an attempt to slow his racing heart. He doesn't even remember falling asleep, only that one minute he was watching some random cartoon and the next... 

His face burns bright red as he carefully extricates himself from the bed, freezing when Sero moves in his sleep, grumbles but doesn't wake. He rearranges the blankets so they're covering his friend and then quickly retreats out of the room, shutting the door behind him quietly. He leans against the wall and groans. He expected it to work, but not that well. 

He quietly makes his way to the kitchen for a glass of water and a snack, chuckling at the absurdity of it all as he does so. He's never fallen asleep in somebody else's room, never mind their bed. And of course his face begins to burn again as he realizes that they were cuddling. Do friends cuddle? Does Sero even consider him a friend? Only friends share drugs, right? But then does that mean Sero is friends with everybody in their class who smokes with him? What if Shouto is reading this wrong again? 

"Dude, you sound like Midoriya." Sero chuckles, startling Shouto so badly he almost jumps out of his skin and choke on his drink. "Sorry man, didn't mean to scare ya." He says, sitting down on the counter next to him. "D'ya leave cuz you were thirsty or uncomfortable?" Shouto feels his face flush red, looking down into his half empty cup. 

"Thirsty..." He mumbles, and he really has always been a terrible liar, because he knows Sero sees right through the excuse. 

"Y'know, if I make you uncomfortable you can just tell me." He says in that usual aloof tone, like it doesn't matter either way. "Last thing I wanna do is upset you, dude." 

"I'm not upset!" Shouto says immediately, looking back up at his friend and then quickly averting his gaze to stare back down at the counter. "I'm just..." He tries to find the words to describe the feeling and comes up short for what has to be at least a full minute, and Sero sits there with the patience of a saint as he puzzles it out. Then he chuckles and looks back up, taking a deep breath. 

"I'm embarrassed. This is embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?" Sero tilts his head at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter nonsensically. Shouto's momentary confusion at the feeling is replaced by the realization that he's just been asked something, and he quickly finishes the rest of his water in an attempt to stall for an answer. He wipes his mouth and sighs, shrugging. 

"I've never... done that before. Slept in someone else's bed, I mean. Unless it was Natsuo but he's my brother so he doesn't count." He has to laugh at the absurdity of it, though, because being embarrassed of falling asleep has got to be some kind of anxiety thing. Maybe he should ask his therapist about it later. "And physical affection is not exactly my forte." Hanta nods, seemingly understanding, and gets off the counter to stalk his way over to the fridge. 

Shouto never noticed it before, but Sero is taller than him by a couple inches. 

Which is interesting because as he recalls, he was the tallest person in their graduating class. 

"Did you hit a growth spurt after we graduated?" He asks, and wow maybe he is still a little high because he'd never ask that question if he wasn't. Shouto didn't ask questions like that. Normally he just ignored it. Hanta snorts and looks back at him, a confused look on his face. 

"You just noticed? I grew like three inches right after graduation." He says, a hint of laughter in his voice. And normally Shouto is a lot better at hiding his feelings but apparently he isn't right now, because the next thing out of Hanta's mouth is, "Awww is somebody upset they're not the tallest person in our class anymore?" 

And then he turns around completely and ruffles Shouto's hair on his way to the counter, prompting the bi-colored man to blush so bright he's convinced his face matches his hair exactly. 

"Jeez, dude, you're really not used to casual affection are you?" He asks. Shouto shakes his head and sets his glass in the sink. 

"Absolutely not and this is mortifying so I'm going to bed now." He stiffly turns to leave the room, his face feeling so hot he has to double check his quirk is not acting up. He has absolutely no idea why exactly he's so embarrassed, but he does know that continuing this conversation might kill him. 

Unfortunately for him, Sero is not too keen on letting him leave that easily. He catches him by the shoulder and spins him around, smiling that easy smile that makes Shouto's heart seem to wanna climb out of his throat. 

"Dude, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." He says with a slight laugh. Shouto is doing all he can to avoid making eye contact. He's sure his face has to be on fire by now. Why is he so warm? It's just Sero! They've been living together for years, why is he only responding like this now? 

It's gotta be the weed. No other explanation. 

"Sorry I'm not... um..." Shouto tries to find the words and comes up short, biting his tongue to stop the hysterical urge to giggle. Seriously, since when does Shouto Todoroki giggle?

When Hanta Sero is involved, apparently. 

"I think I'm still a little high." He settles on, which is not exactly what he wants to say but it's all he's got right now. Sero doesn't say anything, and at first Shouto thinks he said something wrong, but then he's smiling at him and he can't help but smile back. 

"Wanna get higher?" And Shouto thinks he's joking, but he's never been good at picking up on that stuff, so he just nods instead. Sero chuckles, a low rumble that Shouto never paid attention to before, but it seems to be at the forefront of his mind now. Sero turns to go back to his room, and Shouto hesitates for a moment before following him down the corridor. Hey, he's got the next few weeks off. Might as well enjoy it, right? 

Chapter Text

Shouto is subjected to a variety of new products as the week progresses.

First, Sero has him trying strictly edibles. After the initial drink, there's gummies, and then after that there's brownies and a whole plethora of things Shouto didn't even know you could put marijuana in. It reminds him of that old kids movie Sero showed him, with all the fantastical candies and rivers of chocolate. It seems Sero has a never-ending supply of these things, though where he gets it all from Shouto doesn't know either. 

It takes a full week for Sero to offer smoking as a way to get high, and it's the only kind Shouto has actually seen before. 

They're sitting in the corner of Sero's room, Sero in a beanbag chair and Shouto criss-crossed on the ground. He watches with curious eyes as Sero rolls a joint in his lap, licking the edge of the paper and pressing it together so it's wrapped fully around the loose flower packed in the center. It's fascinating how easy Sero makes it look. Shouto is sure he'd make a mess if he tried to do that. 

"Now when I started with this stuff, I jumped headfirst into the deep end." He jokes, holding the joint between two fingers like a cigarette. Shouto gives him a confused look as Sero pats around, looking for the lighter he just had. 

"How?" Shouto asks, watching the vague frustration on his face as he can't seem to find what he's looking for. 

"Well, Me and Denks were up late on a random Tuesday and decided 'hey, we've never been high before, let's try it.' Neither of us had any idea what we were doing so we ended up in fuckin outer space." He chuckles at the memory, shaking his head. "I still remember my mom's face when we came downstairs. Man we reeked for like the entire day she was so pissed- can we light this with your quirk? I think my lighter belongs to the abyss now." Sero asks, looking up at the bi-colored man sitting on his floor.

Shouto hesitates for a moment but nods all the same. 

"It's the same as a cigarette right?" He asks, letting a flame flicker to life on one of his fingertips and holding it out. Sero nods as he holds the thing forward, speaking as he rolls it between his fingers. 

"Smoking is just about the most common way to get high, especially when you're in high school and don't know a damn thing about vapes or edibles." He explains, smiling almost excitedly at Shouto. "Just gotta be careful you don't smoke too much or you'll green out and that is horrible." 

"Green out?" 

"Kinda like overdosing, only it's not actually dangerous as long as you have someone to take care of you. it's like, you start off fine, and then you have to hold onto the grass so you don't fall off the earth. You get me?" Shouto shakes his head, because he absolutely does not. 

"No but you don't make sense most of the time anyway." He says, waving a hand dismissively as Sero chuckles and brings the joint to his lips. Shouto watches as he inhales with an idle fascination, the cherry at the end glowing hotter as he does so. When he breaks away there's still smoke trailing from his lips, and something about the way that looks makes Shouto's stomach flutter. He ignores it in favor of taking the joint from Sero, looking up at the other man curiously. 

"Don't inhale too much." Sero warns as Shouto brings the end to his lips. He hesitates at first, but then finally takes a deep breath...

And immediately starts coughing up a lung, because that was definitely too much. 

Sero chuckles and takes the joint from his hand, shaking his head fondly. He reaches under his bed and grabs a water bottle, handing it to Shouto with a smile. 

"Alright, honey, C'mon. Small sips. There you go." He says, coaching Shouto through the coughing fit. "It gets easier the more you do it." He smiles, taking another long drag from the joint. Shouto is just happy he managed to get through the coughing without throwing up, because that would've been completely mortifying. 

Hanta gives him time to regulate his breathing. Todoroki really is as virgin as they come. He's pretty sure he's never even seen him smoke a cigarette before. It's almost funny to Hanta that he's the first person Shouto has ever smoked with. He's never actually been the first person to offer that to anybody. Most of his stoner friends have been smoking since high school, though, so maybe they aren't exactly the best example. 

"Feel better?" He asks when Shouto's breathing finally evens out. He nods, just barely, and Hanta offers him the joint again. This time he takes a much shorter breath and only coughs a little bit, though he's still embarrassed about nearly hacking up a lung on his first go. He'll just have to trust Hanta when he says he'll get used to it. 

The familiar haziness creeps into his awareness much faster than it usually does, and he leans into it like he's learned is best to do. He looks up at Hanta after a moment and the taller man smiles at him, reaching to wipe a tear from his cheek. Shouto leans into the touch, unsurprisingly. He gets cuddly when he's high. The last few mornings waking up in Hanta's bed prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt. 

Though he can't help but wonder if maybe it's the calmness that makes it easier to accept affection. It seems logical, but then maybe that's the weed talking.

Either way, it feels good to settle into the enormous bean bag and press into his side as Hanta slings an arm over his shoulders. What was he even worried about in the first place? He's safe as long as Hanta's here.

Hanta knows he's fucked the second Shouto settles into him like he was born to be there. 

Then again, he's had a crush on Todoroki since high school, so he can't bring himself to be bothered by it. 

Chapter Text

Shouto paced on the sidewalk, fidgeting as he waited outside the little dispensary on the corner. He didn't know if he should just go inside to wait for Hanta. 

It'd been a month since Miyano forced him on a vacation, and he'd actually been trying to keep a handle on his sleeping problems, lest he be benched for another two weeks. It'd been nice to have some time off and enough sleep for once. 

Getting to know Hanta better had also been nice. 

They'd spent so much time together lately, mainly because Hanta wanted to teach him how to do things on his own rather than having things handed to him in preparation for his upcoming bout of night shifts. It was easier for Shouto to have a conversation while he was high, and so the two had gone from talking maybe once every few days to every night. Shouto told Hanta about his family, and Hanta told Shouto about his. He was easy to talk to and always eager to hear whatever story Shouto wanted to tell, even if it was upsetting or made Shouto wanna put his fist through the drywall.

All things considered, Hanta was actually becoming a fairly good friend. Shouto didn't have any other friends who were willing to cuddle with him quite as much as Hanta was, but that could be a friendly gesture, right? It didn't have to mean anything else. 

Right?

"Yo, earth to 'Roki." Hanta said, waving a hand in front of the man's face. Shouto shook his head, clearing the thoughts away and smiling apologetically at Hanta. "You okay, dude? You seem distracted." 

Shouto nodded stiffly, ignoring the way Hanta's apparent concern made his chest feel tight. 

"Just... apprehensive." He mumbled, gesturing to the little shop with the blacked out windows mere feet from them. "It's odd for me." Hanta's eyes softened, and he elbowed Shouto lightly as he turned towards the building. 

"I getcha man. It's gonna be fine, I'll be right there if ya get overwhelmed, 'kay?" He said lightheartedly. Shouto nodded again, and after a quick glance around (sue him for being anxious about paparazzi), he followed Hanta inside. 

The dispensary seemed bigger on the inside as Shouto crossed the threshold, the door shutting with a soft click behind him. Hanta seemed all too casual as he strolled in front of him, hands in his pockets and that easy smile on his face like he'd been there a million times before. The clerk behind the counter looked up from her phone and smiled brightly, sitting up fully and crossing her arms. 

"Cellophane! Good to see ya babe!" She said loudly, stepping around the counter. Hanta stepped forward and hugged her briefly, pulling back to shove his hands back in his pockets.

"How ya been, squirt? Haven't seen you here in a minute!" 

Maybe Hanta had been there a million times before...

"Oh? And who's this cute little peppermint you've got with ya?" She asked, prompting the taller man to step aside. Shouto did his best at a cordial expression even as he felt his face flame, extending a hand for her to shake. She took it all too joyously, shaking much more vigorously than was strictly necessary. She was almost as enthusiastic as Hatsume. 

"Todoroki Shouto." Shouto answered quietly, leaning a little toward Hanta as her eyes seemed to bug out of her head. 

"Wait, I know you! You're Endeavor's kid, right?" She asked excitedly. Shouto nodded reluctantly, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Behind him, Hanta made a slicing motion at his neck. The woman frowned at him briefly but quickly fixed that friendly smile back on her face. "Well, what can I do ya for, Mr. Todoroki?" Shouto looked back at Hanta, unsure, and he quickly stepped forward to settle a hand on his shoulder. 

"Well, I'm about to go on the night shift for the next couple weeks, so Sho needs his own supply." He explained easily, gesturing around them at all the display cases. "So I figured hey, Yuki's gotta have what he needs to set up a starter kit, right?" He said. The woman- Yuki, apparently, smiled impossibly wider at this and made her way back behind the counter. She beckoned them over to one of the less daunting displays, showing various baked goods and multicolored baggies. 

"Okay then! Here we've got cookies, brownies, lemon bars. Y'know, run of the mill edibles. Good for beginners. Over on this side is gummies. Highest shelf is highest intensity, lowest is CBD only." She explained, pointing at various products as she did so. "I recommend the Starlight Express brand as a whole, but there's also Cloud Nine, which is good for a front of the face buzz, and if you're going for more of a body high I've got Paradise Palms." As she ran through the different brands, Shouto tried his best to pay attention. He might want to come back here on his own so he figured it was best to know what he wanted before he walked in the door. 

He stood for a moment in silence after she finished, biting at his thumb nail as he contemplated his choices carefully. There were so many it was hard to choose, and he didn't even understand the difference between half of them. 

Hanta went ahead and had Yuki grab a few things to set up by the counter, and Shouto knew better than to question it. Hanta knew better than him in this aspect. 

With a final few minutes of thought, he finally made his selections. 

Shouto ended up with so many bags Hanta had to help him carry it all. He tried to discourage him from getting so much at once, but truth be told Shouto was a bulk buyer in most situations. He just didn't like being out in public for too long. People tended to recognize him even before he became a hero, and he was climbing the ranks quickly which meant more attention he didn't want. It was less anxiety inducing this way. 

"Y'know, you didn't have to buy one of everything." Hanta said, eyeing the bags stuffed full with all different kinds of pre-rolls. Shouto found he actually enjoyed smoking more than he thought he would, even if he did still cough when he inhaled too deeply. 

"Seemed easier than coming back by myself." He mumbled, making his way toward the train station. Hanta chuckled and followed along, boarding just as it was about to depart. It was busy, but they managed to secure two seats near the end of the car. It was still horribly cramped though which Shouto loathed with his entire being. He hated being close enough for strangers to touch him, if even by accident. 

That didn't seem to be a problem today, however, as Hanta acted as a barrier between him and the general public. 

Shouto almost didn't notice it at first, too preoccupied with going over his receipt and making a checklist of how much he had. But then someone reached out to touch him and Hanta's arm quickly bullied the prying hand out of Shouto's space. Shouto looked up, seeing a teenage boy in a U.A uniform standing in front of them glaring at Hanta. Shouto looked over to find Hanta meeting his eyes with a glare of his own, and he was much more intimidating than the boy even without the added height. 

"Don't just go around touching people, dude. Not cool." Hanta scolded lightly, causing the boy's face to turn a light shade of embarrassed pink.

"Oh C'mon, it's not a big deal. He's a Legacy, it must happen all the time! Right?" He said, reaching out as if to put his hand on Shouto's shoulder. Hanta blocked him again, shoving the boy away much more harshly than before. 

"It does happen all the time." Shouto said curtly, the monotone politeness coming back to him easily. "That doesn't mean I enjoy it." The boy blinked at the two-toned hero for a bit, anger flashing across his face for a brief moment. He opened his mouth again, as if to argue with him more.

The words died on his tongue, however, when Hanta stood up. 

To say he towered over the boy would be an understatement. Hanta was at least a whole head taller than him. The scowl on his face came off surprisingly threatening for his usually easy going demeanor, and even laden with paper bags he still gave off the aura of someone not to be messed with. 

"I'm sorry, do we have a problem?" He asked, all business like he was when taking down villains. The kid sputtered for a response and came up short, eventually opting to shut his mouth instead. 

"No sir, I'm sorry." 

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to him." Hanta said sternly, gesturing to the man beside him. The boy looked at Shouto, and Shouto stared up at Hanta, equal parts perplexed and some other emotion he didn't bother trying to name. Grateful, maybe? Impressed? 

"Sorry, Sir." He said, looking between the two men. Shouto nodded once, reaching up to pull Hanta back down. Hanta glared at the kid one last time and reluctantly took his seat, rolling his eyes more aggressively than he did when Ashido talked about the guys she used to date. It would be funny if Shouto weren't so perplexed. The boy wandered off to a different part of the train, blissfully out of Shouto's sight at last. Hanta was busy using his tape to reinforce the bottom of a few bags that seemed to be close to tearing, muttering under his breath about disrespectful brats. 

"Now who sounds like Midoriya?" He said just loud enough for the other to hear. Hanta paused for a moment, tilting his head to look at Shouto, and then huffed out a laugh. 

"And who taught you a sense of humor?" He asked, that easygoing smile back on his face. Shouto shrugged, handing him a bag that was tearing at the bottom. 

"You did, actually." 

Chapter Text

The first day of Hanta's lapse in schedule, Shouto came home to an uncomfortably quiet house. 

He toed off his sneakers and slid his feet into his slippers, making his way down the hall to the living room. Normally if they didn't take the train home together, Hanta was always ready with his rolling tray and snacks on the coffee table. It had become normal in the past few weeks. It was so weird to walk into the house and see nobody. He had gotten so used to being around his roommate, he forgot what it was like to have the house to himself. 

he smiled as he saw one of the pre-rolls he bought already sitting in the ashtray, along with one of Hanta's fancy lighters. For someone so forgetful he sure remembered Shouto's appreciation for routine. He sat on the sofa and held the joint to his lips, taking a long drag and inhaling probably more than was strictly necessary. It'd been a hell of a day. 

It started with the pickpockets.

He was stationed near a popular tourist area, a hot-spot for petty thieves to make easy cash. There'd been a group of the same six teenagers, all in tourist-typical clothes, causing trouble in the area recently. The agency thought having a higher profile hero nearby would help curb the amount of reports they got about it. It was grunt work, but Shouto didn't really have anything else to do anyway. There had been a lull in high profile crimes recently.

As it turned out, the agency was wrong. If anything Shouto's presence just seemed to entice them more. It was obnoxious to say the least, but he could ignore the obvious taunting well enough. 

It became a problem though when one of them tried to take Shouto's wallet off his utility belt. He'd spun around just in time to catch the kid, and then he tried to run, which resulted only in his feet getting frozen to the sidewalk. It turned out the little thief happened to be the son of one of the higher ups in the agency, and he'd been severely reprimanded for letting the boy be processed before he called his father. 

After he was done doing the paperwork, which had taken an obnoxiously long two hours to complete because his publicist was hounding him about showing his face at more formal events, he lasted barely another hour on patrol before he had to go back to the office because some blurry ass photos of what could maybe be him and Midoriya going to the grocery store 'together' got released. The tabloids were very much pushing the direction that they were in a relationship again, which did nothing to ease his anxiety about even working in the same building as Midoriya. For goodness sake, they didn't even go at the same time!

And then to top the whole thing off, just before his patrol was about to end, he ran into his father. 

He tried to walk away as soon as he saw the man, but by then it was too late. Enji was approaching him from across the street, drawing unnecessary attention from civilians and causing many of them to pull out their cameras. Shouto hated it when people filmed him. One wrong word could lead to a scandal, and much of what Enji put him through was still very much not public knowledge.

It was a little difficult to tread lightly when the man approached him in public like nothing ever happened and he ended up storming off before he said something to make the PR team go insane, and then they went insane anyway because the footage of him snubbing Endeavor went viral before he even managed to get out of the locker room. And yeah, okay, maybe he wasn't really thinking, but ignoring the man was much better than getting into a shouting match with him in public. PR would have a much bigger problem on their hands had he gone with his initial instinct, which was to freeze him to a tall building and see how long it took for the ice to melt. 

He didn't wanna be recognized on the train back home, that was the only reason he'd gone into Hanta's locker in the first place. But the second his phone chimed with a notification from the other man, he knew he'd made a mistake. 

'Did u steal my hoodie?' 

He groaned and sunk further into the sofa, pulling the strings tight around his face. 

It wasn't the first time Shouto had borrowed Hanta's clothes recently. Sometimes Shouto would forget a change when he went to work in the morning, or paparazzi was following him everywhere and he needed something inconspicuous to wear home. And it wasn't uncommon for Hanta to borrow cuff links or ties from Shouto for formal events. But they always asked each other first. Neither of them had ever just borrowed something from the other without asking, and Shouto had completely forgotten to tell him. His phone chimed again, another text from Hanta. 

'Hiding from the tabloids again?'

Shouto scowled at the text and quickly sent one back. 

'Don't laugh at my pain 😒'

'...yes.'

Hanta chuckled at the message and took a long pull off the vape in his hand. He was posted up on top of a building, bored out of his mind. Nothing really happened on night shift, in his experience. Mainly just drunk and disorderly people, and the local police could handle those without him. It left him a little bit of time to check up on Shouto and see how he was doing. It was weird, not seeing him home all day. He was used to their off time lining up, so it was weird to know he'd be home alone for the next few weeks. 

'Found the joint I left out for ya?' He asked. 

Shouto sent a picture of himself on the sofa, comfortably hiding in Hanta's hoodie with thick white smoke falling out of his mouth, and Hanta mentally kicked himself for agreeing to this night shift bullshit last month. He could be at home right now smoking with that and instead he was here, bored out of his mind on a Monday in the middle of the night texting his roommate like a total loser. 

'Yeah! Thanks, I really needed it.'

The man sighed to himself, rolling his eyes at his own thoughts. He pocketed his phone and made his way down from the building. 

Why did he always have to fall for people he couldn't have? 

Shouto frowned slightly when Hanta didn't respond, but quickly shook it off. He was on patrol right now, of course he didn't have that much time to text. There was probably some kind of fight going on outside a bar somewhere. That usually happened in that part of town. 

He settled into the sofa with long breath, sighing smoke into the air as he switched on the TV to fill the noise. Hanta usually had some story to tell, when the day dragged on and Shouto needed a moment of respite. He was tired, and his racing mind eased as the joint kicked in. Maybe a nap wouldn't be such a bad idea...

When Hanta got home, he carried Shouto up to his bed. 

He let him keep the hoodie. Shouto looked better in it anyway. 

Chapter Text

Shouto shucked off his jacket and wrestled his boots off his feet, discarding them carelessly by the door and stomping down the hall. 

For the first four days, he just thought he was having an unlucky streak. A few hard days at work, sure, who hasn't had that? It was normal. Things would go back to normal soon. Getting hit with random quirks was normal in his line of work. The media blowing your mistakes out of proportion was normal. Having to work with heroes he didn't get along with was a pretty regular occurrence. He thought it meant nothing. 

He thought. 

And then he lost his day off to a psych eval and three press conferences, which would've been fine if a virus hadn't taken out half the office, sparing him the vomiting but not the sudden influx in overtime and paperwork. Then he nearly clobbered somebody on the subway home because a grown man in full Endeavor fan-club gear decided to harass him with his cell phone on some kind of live stream, demanding to know why he always refused to speak to Endeavor when he'd 'clearly changed' and was 'trying to be a good father.' 

He'd made the unfortunate mistake of talking to a popular coworker just enough to earn himself the god-forsaken title of acquaintance, which for some reason or another apparently meant he was invited to a 'small get together' (full on rager, what was this, high school?) with a few overlapping friends. He only even went because he thought Sero might be there, not that he got the chance to find out because almost the second he arrived there was an arm around his shoulders and a picture was being taken before he had time to react. The flash blinded him for a second and he assumed paparazzi, but as soon as he registered who it was hanging off him he shoved him to the ground. In his panic his quirk activated, resulting in one Enji Todoroki being frozen to the polished hardwood floor. Shouto didn't know when people started recording, he just glared for a moment and left without a word. 

The video was on the news the next morning, and he'd been harassed about it every day since, because god forbid they interact even once without him bearing the brunt of the media afterward. 

By the time he finally got another day off he realized every single day for the past two weeks had gotten progressively worse. Shouto swore up down and sideways that Hanta being on night shift had somehow cursed him, and if the day he'd had wasn't proof of that he didn't know what was. He huffed as he stomped up to his room, peeling out of his work uniform and discarding it carelessly on the carpet. The man all but collapsed onto his bed, a frustrated growl bubbling up from the pool of irritation swirling in his gut. He had to stay late again, so of course Hanta was already gone by the time he got home. 

He grumbled at the thought, pressing his face into his pillow. He hadn't seen Hanta in a few days and that was doing weird things to his brain. All he wanted to do was lounge on the sofa and smoke a joint with his best friend, was that too much to ask?

He pressed the pillow closer, took a nice, deep breath, and let out a disappointingly fractional part of his pent up frustration with one long scream. 

"Fuck my life." He muttered, tossing the pillow over his shoulder. 

"Tell me about it." 

Shouto yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin as he quickly turned toward the door. There in his doorway was an exhausted looking Hanta, hair dripping with water as he ruffled his hand through it. 

"Why are you here?" He asked, cringing when he realized how harsh he sounded. Hanta didn't seem to mind, smiling and wandering over to Shouto's dresser. He pulled open the bottom drawer where he kept his pre-rolls and grabbed three, settling on the edge of the bed. 

"Denks wanted to pick up a couple shifts so I gave him mine." He lit the joint in his hand and put the others aside, taking a long pull. He held it out to Shouto, who accepted it gratefully. "I keep hearing about you getting in fights with reporters?" He groaned and rolled his eyes

"They're so intrusive! If they want to know the details so badly they should be harassing Endeavor but noooo. God forbid I actually be left alone to do my job. Seriously, what do these people think I do all day? Do they think I'm out on patrol just to smile for some fucking cameras and answer insane personal questions?! I swear, Hanta, I'm this close to punching one of those ingrates in the face." He leaned back into his bed with a frustrated groan, looking back up when Hanta chuckled. "What?" 

The man shook his head and shrugged, sighing loudly. 

"I mean hey, it worked for Bakugou." 

Shouto paused, then abruptly broke out in a fit of giggles. 

"Ohhh, I remember that! The tabloids had a field day." He laughed, remembering the controversy that had broken out over Bakugou's less than PR friendly stunt.

Suspicions of a new romantic entanglement had snagged media attention, causing most of reporters questions to be centered around his personal life, rather than his work. Bakugou had repeatedly and abrasively stated he would not answer any questions that weren't directly related to his work at the beginning of his professional career, even going so far as to walk out of a live interview upon discovering the very first question was about his apparent strained relationship with his mother, so as you can imagine the sudden influx of interest in his love life was ill received. 

There was one unruly reporter that had been tracking him everywhere he went, interfering with active chases and arrests to accost the young hero with a series of intrusive, personal questions that always got him cussed out or lectured. To Bakugou's credit, his breaking point came much slower than everyone thought it would. It was only when the reporter interrupted him mid-battle, allowing a high profile villain to escape, that he finally decked the guy. 

PR nearly had an aneurysm, threatening termination for breach of contract, only to quickly rescind the decision when his public approval rating shot up forty percent in just two days. Bakugou, being the 'they go low, I limbo dance with the devil' kind of person that he was, made a public statement shortly after the incident saying anybody who got in his way would get the same treatment. Ironically, this worked to further dissuade civilians from interfering with the more dangerous battles, bringing down injury rates across the board.

Maybe Shouto really should start decking reporters. 

He narrowed his eyes at his companion, who was currently occupied with another joint. 

"You cursed me." He grumbled, staring up at his blank ceiling. 

"Say what now?" Hanta asked, no subtle amount of amusement on his face as he turned toward him. "How'd ya figure?" 

"You went on night shift and now my life sucks." Hanta laughed before he could help himself, smiling widely at his friend. 

"Is this about that thing with your dad at that party?" He asked, a certain enthusiasm to his words. "Dude, that was awesome! You gotta start doing that more often, maybe he'll actually start leaving you alone." Shouto groaned, frustration ebbing out of his body as the high took hold fully, clouding his brain in a delightfully stress reducing fog. 

"I would, if I didn't have to deal with the cameras. Did you know my approval rating dropped three percent after that clip went viral?" Hanta rolled his eyes, scoffing at the mere mention of it. 

"Well screw em then. They don't know what he did, why is it any of their business?" 

Shouto rolled onto his side and smiled. Hanta always understood what he was thinking. It was nice, how effortless it had become to communicate with him. Where with Midoriya there was always some slight level of confusion, Hanta just seemed to know. He never had to ask a million questions for clarity, didn't need the constant reassurance... 

Why was he even comparing the two? 

It wasn't like Hanta was a romantic partner. Relationships were different between friends and couples, he knew that. Sure he felt some kind of affection for Hanta, but the feeling was no different than it was with Midoriya when they were just friends. Maybe that was what regular friendship felt like, a commodity that had been severely lacking in Shouto's developmental years, and that was why the confusion.

He diverted his attention to Hanta's ramblings, smiling as the other pressed comfortably into the bed and wrapped his arm around him. 

He was lucky to have a friend like Hanta.

Chapter Text

The smell of spices wafted through the air as Shoto toed off his shoes in the entry way. 

He shuffled out of his jacket and hung it by the door, cringing as he felt his shirt stick to his sweaty back. By all accounts it was much too late in the year for such a warm night, but the weather seemed to have a mind of its own just like it always did. Shoto silently cursed that he couldn't use his quirk to make the temperature outside seasonably appropriate as he made his way down the hall towards the kitchen. 

It'd been a few weeks since Hanta came off the night shift. Things had been a lot busier with the colder season, an emergence of new villains with quirks that were better suited to winter once again heaping more work on everybody's plates. Between all the extra paperwork and the constant need for extra hands, the pair hadn't spent as much time together as Shoto had hoped to. 

Hanta had also been acting weird recently, the usual easy smile and friendly demeanor had become... different, somehow. He seemed to bristle when Shoto approached him and tense up when they touched. Shoto would think nothing of it, but it was the dramatic shift in behavior for the last few days that made him feel weird about the whole situation. 

It started when Hanta made an excuse not to smoke with him at the start of the previous week. He said he was tired, and Shoto didn't push him on it. They didn't need to hang out every single day, and they'd already spent the entire day at work together on patrol, so of course he had thought nothing of it and simply spent the rest of his night in his bedroom. 

And then Hanta left for work early, citing paperwork he needed to finish. All well and good, Shoto had been there a few times. Then he stayed late to meet with their boss. Okay, that was fine, he could've sworn Ms. Miyano had already left for the day, but what reason would he have to lie? 

He got an inkling Hanta was avoiding him when he blew him off for the third day in a row -movie night- to hang out with Kaminari. 

It'd been twelve days since they last spent time together, and for ten of them Hanta had spent nearly every spare second he had with the energetic blonde. If he wasn't over at Kaminari's place, Kaminari was usually over at theirs. It wasn't that Shoto minded the company, but he would've liked a little prior warning before their former classmate suddenly seemed to become a household staple overnight. 

He walked into the shared kitchen, hoping that perhaps Hanta was alone that day, and was greeted almost immediately to the sound of his favorite mug shattering across the tile floor. 

Black and blonde hair snapped toward the sound. There were dishes piled everywhere, some dirty and some clean. The counter was covered in what appeared to be a substantial amount of flour, as were the two apron-clad men standing in his kitchen. A pan on the stove was wafting smoke throughout the room, even as the little fan on the counter worked overtime to clear it. All of the cabinets were open and largely empty, their contents scattered across the counter. Whatever they were doing, it was creating an enormous mess. 

"Dude, are you serious?" Hanta groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Shoto's gonna flip! I thought I told you to be careful!" Kaminari put his hands up defensively, shaking his head in a confused gesture. 

"Don't look at me, dude, your place is haunted as shit!" He said, attempting to extricate himself from the mess trying to pass for dough stuck to the granite. Shoto rolled his eyes at the sight in front of him.

"Sure, sure, blame the ghosts. They like him better, I'm telling you." 

"Ghosts aren't real." Shoto interrupted. Hanta jumped, spinning around to face his roommate with so much guilt written all over his face that Shoto almost thought for a moment he was the one who did something wrong. 

"Heyyyyy 'Roki. I didn't think you'd be home till six." He said sheepishly. 

"It's seven." Shoto said flatly, gesturing toward the clock on the microwave, which read seven o' five in fluorescent green numbers. 

And normally, he wouldn't care about any of this. He'd go back to his room and shop online for a new mug, or maybe go out and buy one if he really felt like it. Normally, everything would be fine.

He didn't normally have such a tedious day at work either though, and Hanta didn't normally go out of his way to spend as little time with him as possible.

He dropped his bag on the floor and marched across the kitchen, shutting off the stove and tossing the pan of charcoal directly into the garbage, much to the protest of one resolutely ignored blonde. While Kaminari fetched a broom from the cupboard he rounded on Hanta and fixed him in as best a glare as he could manage. 

"Why are you avoiding me?" He demanded, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to. Hanta offered him a confused look, shaking his head as the guilty look on his face grew guiltier. That only served to further irritate Shoto for reasons he couldn't quite understand, conflicting thoughts ricocheting in his head as he attempted to squeeze an answer out of his friend.

"What d'you mean? I'm just hanging out with Denki lately, that's all." He said. He seemed almost nervous, fiddling with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. Shoto ran an exhausted hand down his face and rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. If he had to spell it out he would, but if there was anything he knew it was that Hanta wasn't nearly as clueless as he pretended to be. 

"You haven't said more than two sentences to me for two weeks. You don't wanna smoke with me, you act weird when they put us on patrol together, you don't answer my texts. Are you mad at me or something? Did I offend you somehow?" He asked, trying his best to keep his voice level. Luckily for him he had years of practice pretending his feelings didn't exist. He didn't know if he was angry or just hurt, but not knowing what he'd done to cause Hanta to act the way he was acting was making him crazy. How was he supposed to fix it if he wouldn't even tell Shoto what he did? 

"What?" Hanta's brow furrowed, a touch of anger slipping into his tone as he asked, "Dude, why are you being like this?" 

"Why are you being like this?" Shoto snapped slightly, quickly regaining his composure. He'd had worse arguments with his father without flinching, he would be fine here too. Gods, were they even arguing? "What did I do?" 

Shoto watched in real time as Hanta's expression turned, all guilt from earlier vanishing in an instant and replaced by the same vague neutrality Shoto had coined as his signature look. He looked him directly in the face and rolled his eyes at him. The gesture made him feel unsteady. 

"Y'know, my life doesn't revolve around you, Todoroki. You can't start acting crazy every time I don't wanna hang out with you." 

The words took a moment to sink in. Everything stopped. Kaminari flashed Hanta an incredulous look but Hanta was too busy watching Shoto crumble in front of him to pay him any mind and so he stood there, forgotten, as he watched the scene unfold. 

Shoto took a deep, careful breath, willing the lump in his throat to lessen and the stinging behind his eyes to settle. He silently kissed the week's therapy session goodbye as all the walls he'd allowed Hanta to tear down came right back up, Right back to where they were supposed to be. He was an idiot to think he could actually be vulnerable with him. They barely knew each other, after all.

They were just roommates. And that was how it would always be. They were just better off that way.

"Of course." He said quietly, what little emotion he'd been allowing to seep into his voice gone right alongside Hanta's careful veneer of kindness and companionship. "You're right. My mistake." 

He turned to the hall to hide the way his face fell, vision blurring with tears, but fuck that. No way was he gonna spend his energy crying over it. Clearly their friendship didn't matter at all to Hanta, so it didn't matter to Shoto, either.  

"Good to see you, Kaminari. Have a pleasant night, Sero." 

He rushed his way up the stairs and carefully shut his bedroom door, wiping the few stubborn tears that had managed to escape anyway. 

Whatever. It wasn't like it mattered. 

Hanta was kicking himself the second the words left his mouth. As soon as Shoto left, Kaminari threw a fluffy pink slipper at his head. 

"What the fuck, dude, I thought you liked him?!" The blonde scolded, picking up his slipper and smacking Hanta with it. "Why were you such an asshole? Now he thinks you don't care!" 

"Could you not be so fucking loud?! He's gonna hear you!" Hanta hissed, glaring daggers at his friend as he snatched the shoe from his hand and threw it back at him. Denki dodged and rolled his eyes, flipping off the other man and sticking out his tongue in a very childish way. 

"Come on, man, that was bullshit. You basically just told him to go fuck himself, have you been hanging out with Bakugou lately or something? That's not how you get a guy to go on a date with you!" He screeched, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "How the hell am I supposed to help you if you act like... well, that?!"

"I panicked okay?! I didn't know what to do, he caught me off guard." He mumbled, crossing his arms. He shook his head and sighed. "Nevermind, lets just get this mess cleaned up." 

Gods, what was he gonna do? 

Chapter Text

Shoto did his best to stay out of the way for the better part of the next month. Sero ended up being the first to break the silence. 

Steadying his nerves, he approached Todoroki's door and knocked quietly. It had been weeks, and they'd barely spoken more than five words to each other. Todoroki had been coming and going as if he were a ghost, spending all of his spare time in his room. Hanta could smell the weed from the hallway every time he stood outside his door, trying to puzzle out exactly what to say to him until eventually he ended up turning around and walking right back down the stairs where he belonged.

If they were strangers before, they were almost less than that now, and Hanta had run out of reasons to continue avoiding giving the apology he knew was owed. They were due on a mission together in a week, and Miyano had more or less ordered him to try and settle things after the incident that happened the last time they were on the job together. 

See, the whole mess had just gotten even messier when they happened to cross paths in a crisis zone. 

Hanta was the first to arrive. It was a quirk related incident. A six year old kid with a newly developed weather based quirk had thrown a tantrum and accidentally summoned a tornado. That would be all well and good, if it hadn't reached the ground. Except it did, a few miles off the coast, directly in the water.

For those who didn't pay attention during that particular unit in science class, a large body of water plus a tornado pretty much always guarantees a hurricane. 

The situation was all hands on deck. Hanta was the only person in his patrol zone at the time, as the lighter foot traffic and surplus of cameras around the residential neighborhood discouraged villains and criminals from doing anything suspicious there. Really he was usually only posted there as a precaution. That day, he was going door to door informing the residents of the evacuation order in place. 

There wasn't enough time for him to get to the entire neighborhood before the hurricane began knocking over buildings and swallowing houses whole. He was doing his level best to carry the injured to the safe zone, but as the storm raged on and more and more people became hurt, it was becoming increasingly obvious that he couldn't evacuate a neighborhood of over seven-hundred including children and babies by himself. His calls for backup were met with silence from most, with several static laden replies from Kaminari confirming that the control tower had been knocked out which meant for the time being, the coms were essentially useless. The only thing he could think to do was corral the civilians to the nearby middle school, which served as a temporary hurricane shelter, and continue searching the streets for any stragglers that may be caught in the storm. 

He was swinging from house to house, searching for anybody who may be trapped as the streets became flooded, when Shoto showed up on the scene. 

"Cellophane!" The red and white hero had called out to him for a good few minutes before he realized. Hanta was so relieved to have at least one other hero there that he almost wanted to cry.

The steady amount of injured civilians he kept finding was starting to get out of hand, and there had been a few times already where he'd had to prioritize the ones who were awake and responsive over their unconscious friends, which though necessary and standard protocol was not usually well received. There was one particular instance where he ended up having to drag a woman away from her young daughter's body, lest she be caught directly in the storm's destructive path. The large crack in her forehead was oozing blood, and the girl was unresponsive even as her mother tried to shake her awake. He ended up having to restrain her in order to deliver her and her two other children to the school unharmed, and the whole way she'd sobbed and screamed, calling him a monster for leaving her daughter to die alone in the streets. 

He told himself it was the right thing to do, but even as he delivered the girl safely to paramedics, he still couldn't shake the hollow feeling that had formed in the center of his chest. 

Shoto showing up was a lifeline Hanta didn't know he would get. 

But they couldn't agree on what to do with the civilians. 

"We need to take them to the safe zone now." Shoto argued, arms crossed in a stubborn display. Hanta growled in frustration and gestured to the large apartment building a mile or so to the east, where he could just barely recognize the various curtains and blankets being waved from the windows. Help signals. People screaming 'We're still here. Please don't leave us.'

"There are still civilians out there!" Hanta had argued back. "We can't just leave them here! That building is as good as gone in the next half an hour!"

"This building is as good as gone in the next half an hour!" Shouto snapped, gesturing to the crowd of people watching the altercation with bated breath. "There are children here, Cellophane. Mothers and babies and pregnant women. Protocol says they have priority." 

"Well fuck protocol!" He said bluntly, gesturing down a street they still hadn't surveyed for survivors. A few of the old timers in the crowd visibly cringed, but he didn't care. "There are children and babies and pregnant women there too. Do they not matter?! Are their lives not also at risk?!" 

"Hanta." The use of his given name made him pause just long enough for Shoto to take both of his hands in his own, urging the other man to look him in the eye as he spoke more earnestly than he'd ever heard before. "We've done all we can. There's an evacuation order out for the heroes, too." 

It took a few moments for Hanta to process the words, but as soon as he did, he was pulling away from Shoto and rushing for the door. 

"Cellophane, wait-" Shoto ran after him, catching his wrist as he flung the storm door open. Wind and rain blew into the room, filling the entire space with a strong chill and covering the linoleum floor in icy water. He turned back to his colleague with as much conviction as he could muster, all notion of reasoning gone in an instant. He was done arguing. 

"I will not turn my back on people that need me." Shoto blinked at him. He continued. "If you're okay with leaving dozens behind, Shoto, then go ahead. Leave. But the only hope those people have of making it out of this alive is us, and I refuse to leave them here to die. That is not what a real hero does." He slipped from his grasp and took another step away. Away from Shoto, away from the crowd. "Go tell command that I am not evacuating until I know every single civilian is safe." 

Shoto had no time to try and talk him out of it, because as soon as the words left his mouth he was out the door and down the street. 

He actually had managed to evacuate all the civilians, though it had been a close call. But his adamant and public chastisement of the other hero's actions hadn't gone unnoticed by the press. By the time the situation had been resolved, Shoto's public approval rating had dropped by almost fifteen percent. 

Needless to say, they weren't exactly on speaking terms. 

The door creaked open just a crack. Hanta could just barely make out the icy blue of his left eye as he peered through the gap between the frame. 

"What do you want?" The words were guarded, almost harsh as Shoto spoke. Hanta cringed, but held up the bong he knew was his roommate's favorite. With a final deep breath, he managed to muster up a smile. 

"Come smoke?" 

A beat of silence, and then Shoto shut the door with a mute click that told the other man he'd locked it. 

Hanta sighed heavily and turned back to the stairs. He'd really fucked this one up, hadn't he? 

"I'm sorry, y'know." He muttered. "About everything." 

On the other side of the door, Shoto just barely managed to make out the apology. 

He just wished he knew why exactly Sero seemed to have trouble saying it to his face. 

Chapter Text

Going into the briefing for his next mission was like walking into the middle of a cold war. 

Hanta made it a point to show up early for once in his life, hoping that he might be able to catch Shoto before the meeting and smooth things over.

Or try to, at least.

At this point he wasn't exactly sure what Shoto wanted from him. Every attempt at amends was met with a cold shoulder, every interaction between them limited strictly to their professional duties. Even when they were in the same room together, Shoto totally ignored him unless communication was strictly necessary. He had bought him gifts, expensive ones made of blown glass and ceramic, only for them to be left sitting on the counter until he finally caved and shoved them to the back of his closet. He had written him notes and slid them under his door and been met with radio silence. He had caught him in the hallway, questioned him after work, done everything just shy of getting on his knees and begging Shoto to talk to him again. 

And if he was being honest with himself, he was beginning to think it was all getting a little ridiculous. I mean for Christ's sake, it wasn't like they were petty teenagers squabbling. They were grown ass men. For all the effort he was putting into it, Shoto certainly wasn't doing a lot on his part. He was the one who tried to convince Hanta to leave all of those people to die. How was he meant to react to that? Did he expect him to say, 'Gee, y'know what, Shoto? You're right! Let's just leave an entire apartment building to drown in a hurricane because it's protocol! How silly of me!'

He had spent the last two weeks leading up to this assignment walking on glass trying to win Shoto back, and frankly he was getting pretty sick of it. Maybe they were just better off as colleagues and roommates than anything else. If that was what Shoto was aiming for, then who was Hanta to continue pushing him for a friendship he obviously no longer had any interest in? 

He sipped his coffee, cringing at the lack of cream. The office break room had been sorely lacking in supplies ever since that Kimura guy had transferred agencies a month back. They still hadn't quite managed to find a replacement for him yet, and though the temp who was currently holding the position was a kind, helpful girl, she was almost entirely useless when it came to doing her actual job (Submitting equipment and materials requests, which she had done successfully without help four out of sixteen times since she began working there). That was alright by Hanta, though. She was pretty, and always happy to file paperwork for him when he was too exhausted to bother with the finicky program the agency had switched over to last fall. Though it had been over a year, he still hadn't gotten the hang of it. 

He watched the dark liquid swirl in his cup as more people filed into the room. No other heroes yet, though that would change soon enough. Shoto would be along any minute now. 

A few of the guys from the support squad were conversing lowly across from him, clicking away at their keyboards, likely making last minute adjustments to needed materials, or signing into the various heavily secured record keeping programs the agency kept. Hanta kept his gaze on the dark liquid settling in his flimsy paper cup, allowing his mind to wander for the time being. It wasn't like any information would be disseminated until they were all present anyway. 

He let his thoughts drift aimlessly. He needed to do his laundry when he got home. There was pink mold growing in the shower he just knew he was going to spend hours scrubbing away. Should he just keep the glass he got for Shoto or return it and get his money back? He should probably hit up the dispo soon if he wanted to make their sale before it ended. What should he make for dinner tonight? Should he leave extra for Shoto in the fridge? Had Shoto been sleeping? Had Shoto eaten anything but ramen in the past week? Was Shoto okay? Were Shoto's ribs still broken from that villain they'd fought the previous week? 

Hanta sloped forward, letting his head hit the table with a thud. Shoto was going to find his way into his thoughts even when he didn't want him to. Yet another thing to be annoyed about. 

The chair next to him scraped against the linoleum floor, and as Shoto settled into the seat beside him, he realized that somehow the room had filled while he was busy complaining in his head. Miyano sidled in after him and latched the door behind her, making her way to the head of the table with a large stack of files tucked under her arm. She did a quick head count, verifying that the whole of her team was present, and was pleased to find that as usual her employees remained perfectly punctual. The woman cleared her throat, passing manila folders around the table as she began her briefing. 

"As I'm sure you're all aware by now, with what the media has been circulating, Ishikawa has been having a bit of a human trafficking problem for the past few months." The heroes flipped open their folders as she spoke, reading through the first few sentences of a frankly daunting amount of data they would need to absorb. Hanta raised a hand, a confused furrow to his brow as he stared up at his commanding officer. 

"But, wait a minute. If the case is in Ishikawa, why is an agency in Osaka getting involved?" He asked. Surely there were closer agencies that could help out. The corner of Miyano's eye twitched, the only tell to her frustration. Heroes. Why did they always have so many questions? 

"Because," She said sharply, turning her gaze towards Hanta. "They've recently obtained several witnesses that are adamant this is a widespread, multi-district operation. One of the women rescued claims to have seen police and even pro heroes do business with her captors." She flipped to the fifteenth page of her personal copy of the file. Spanning the next four pages was a collection of names, profiles, images, neatly printed in alphabetic order. Every person they'd managed to link to the operation so far, along with a few leads. Hanta noted with no small amount of concern that most of the victims information was redacted, empty space instead of the usual age, name, residence, etc. They weren't simply crossed out in permanent marker like the handful of other cases he'd seen with similar missing data, the lines had been omitted from the file entirely. That didn't just mean they had to be in protective custody, It meant somebody on the inside couldn't be trusted. It was the largest and only indication that the problem was a lot worse than Miyano was letting on, and pro heroes being involved in organized crime was hard to top as far as huge fucking problems went. 

"Needless to say, if this information gets back to the public before any arrests are made, the whole of the heroics industry is in for a world of trouble." 

Not that they wouldn't be in a world of trouble already.

Shoto had scarcely even heard of heroes participating in widespread criminal activity. He'd only seen such cases maybe three times in his entire professional career, and they had all been overseas. It was a rarity among Japanese society's sworn protectors to participate in any sort of crime these days, as public heroes were scrutinized very closely by the media and regulators after the League had been defeated.

UA's use of the students of class A in the final battle had prompted dozens of new pieces of legislation to be drafted, regulating the heroes and their students much more strictly. When a hero was caught breaking the law, the punishment had to be dealt out swiftly and severely. Keeping the public's trust was essential to the survival of the industry, and those who broke that trust had to be made examples, to prove the government still had control, that the laws were going to be enforced even if it was society's most elite breaking them.

When even one pro hero turned traitor, it had to be handled extremely thoroughly and extremely delicately. The way they managed the fallout was entirely dependent on whether or not an arrest had been made. There was always public outrage when one of their trusted protectors was caught abusing their power for evil, but it was much easier to quell the anger when the hero in question already had charges brought against them. It propped up the comforting illusion that they were always kept in check, that the reformed Public Safety Commission was working as intended, holding heroes accountable for dangerous behavior before they had the chance to do any real significant harm. 

Because more likely than not, they wouldn't end up receiving credit for this mission, if it was successful. The PSC insignia stamped in the top right corner of every page hadn't escaped his notice when he'd first glanced the file. He and Sero had been chosen specifically for this, or recommended by superiors maybe. This wasn't something Miyano had just arbitrarily assigned to them. 

The only question was 'Why?'

He understood putting Sero on the case. His costume helmet largely obscured his face, and his marks during their time at UA indicated that he would be quite useful in stealth operations. He was well suited to stakeouts, Shoto had seen that much during a number of their summer training camps. He was quick to react to movement, to observation. Being watched never seemed to shake him. As long as he wasn't recognized, he was a perfect fit.

Shoto, on the other hand, carried attention wherever he went. It was the price of being the legacy hero he was. His father's position at the pinnacle of society as well as his fall from grace carried hefty expectations, and with those expectations came a long list of every facet of hero work he could never, ever do. He had been in the limelight since childhood, and that safely disqualified him from just about any kind of underground or undercover work. His face was on TV at least once every other month.

Not to mention his recent plummet in the public rankings.

It seemed that after the hurricane incident his metrics had just been dropping lower and lower. Any mistake was scrutinized, every battle resulting in a lengthy lecture from his supervisor regardless of if he was successful or not. He'd remained stable at the eightieth spot for a few weeks, but had dropped down another ten places almost overnight after an altercation with a civilian that the media had apparently deemed too harsh for his line of work. PR was constantly hounding him about raising his approval ratings, nitpicking every public appearance he made. He thought the double standard to be a little ridiculous, given what Bakugou's agency allowed him to get away with. His publicist was once again escalating his borderline deranged attempts to get Shoto to make public appearances, the latest of his schemes taking hours to untangle after he'd agreed to not only a photo shoot, but also three separate interviews without consulting Shoto about it first. With everything piling up, the stress was starting to get to him. He felt constantly on edge, like a wire pulled taught and just one good tug from snapping. To any reasonable agency, it looked as though he needed to be kept on a tight leash. He would be a liability, just based on available data.

He was clearly the worst candidate for an undercover op, so what exactly he was doing in this room seated next to his greatest source of irritation was beyond his understanding. 

"Shoto, your stats have taken a pretty hefty hit these past few weeks." Miyano explained. "Surface level observation shows a recent tendency towards violent outbursts and impulsive decisions. To be clear, you're not in any trouble." She pushed forward through Shoto's scandalized expression. He bit his tongue and clenched his fists in his lap, resisting the urge to defend himself. That was a conversation for his therapist, not his commanding officer. 

"You also possess a certain level of notoriety, thanks to your father's previous status as the number one hero. These things combined make you a threat, yes, but more importantly, you have access to resources that would make you a relatively decent prospective investor. You're public and recognizable, but not so high in rank they would expect you to be chosen to handle a mission as delicate as this one. You're on the villains' radar, but not as a threat quite yet. The data shows they've got heroes just below the top 100, probably trying to avoid unnecessary attention, but they've been edging close to the line for a while. They need more secure benefactors, since Midnight has taken down a pretty decent number of their grunts just in the past three weeks. They need somebody to keep them rooted here and bring in more pawns. Shoto, we're hoping your connections will be enough for them to look past your lineage."

Not a threat, huh? Good to know his entire professional career thus far had apparently proven him utterly useless. 

A man across the table from him, a stout figure sporting round, wire-rimmed glasses, cleared his throat and tapped a few keys on his computer. 

"If this mission goes favorably, it would give your rank and approval rating a decent boost." He said, his voice nasally like he had some kind of cold. Shoto recognized him vaguely as the head of the PR department. Over the years, he'd come to associate the specific pattern of his speech with the same mild annoyance that came with dealing with the media. "Your contribution wouldn't go unrecognized." 

He resisted the urge to scoff. Right. Because the Public Safety Commission made a habit of giving credit where credit was due. He might be a little oblivious when it came to social situations, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew that the only way they were getting any kind of credit they deserved was if they botched it, which he had absolutely no intention of doing. 

"Due to the sensitive nature of the operation, you'll both need to sign non-disclosures." 

All heads at the table turned from Miyano to a different woman, sitting opposite her in a sharp suit. She fiddled with the briefcase on the table in front of her, clicking in some kind of code. She pressed a button and the lid clicked open. 

"The Public Safety Commission has authorized the use of lethal force, should you find yourselves in need. The details are outlined on page four." She passed each of them another stack of neatly stapled paperwork, the PSC insignia blazed across the front along with the bold red stamp that denoted the files as restricted information. Shoto flipped to the page, skimming the first few paragraphs as she continued. 

"Despite your recent failings, you have proven yourself to have a relatively level, logical head. Your quirk lends itself to quick capture and easy escape, and your training with... ehm, emotional regulation, suggests you'll be able to play the part of the wayward hero for an extended period of time." Shoto was only partially listening, filing the information away in his head for later. The lack of a specific time frame alluded to a larger conversation he would have with Miyano later. 

Hanta leaned back in his chair, long limbs dangling as he cast a question towards the Commission rep. 

"So then what am I here for?" He asked. Coming from anyone else, he might've sounded rude, but Hanta had never been one to keep his mouth shut for the sake of politeness. "Seems like Shoto here's got all the skills you need to put this one to bed." 

The woman adjusted her cuffs, smoothing her hands over her jacket briefly. 

"Actually, Hawks recommended you specifically." She said. 

"Say what now?" Hanta replied intelligently, his attention divided between the paragraphs of text in front of him and the conversation going on in the room.

"He believes your quick thinking and unorthodox methods are a good match for what we need, and after reviewing your performance for the past year, we're inclined to agree with him. The hurricane in Kyoto in particular spoke to your adaptability. Rather impressive, how you managed to evacuate all those civilians. Putting aside the deliberate defiance of direct orders, you managed to make it through with minimal injuries." She stated matter-of-factly, riffling through her briefcase once more. "You're going along to gather intelligence, and as backup in case he needs it. And we'll need your quirk for the cleanup."

"So in other words, you're his tail." Miyano concluded, picking up her pen to strike a line under a certain heading and flipping to another page. "Follow him discreetly, relay information, bail if things go South." 

"This is a particularly dangerous mission." Piped another man, this one lankier with blue skin. Hanta recognized him, too, as part of Risk Management. They were always breathing down his neck about reckless maneuvers, and he couldn't help the distaste on his face as he observed the man. "We'll have a team on standby, of course, in the case that things get ugly, but we can't guarantee your safety should you choose to accept." 

"Of course, the risk also comes with a hefty paycheck." A red-headed girl seated beside the blue man said, scribbling furiously on a notepad. "You'll each receive ample compensation for your efforts and your silence. The government wants this handled as quietly as possible." 

Shoto and Hanta continued to read through the documents as the meeting dragged on. The next hour and a half was spent going over the general information on the case, how much they knew, what they needed to find out.

No time frame was specified in the paperwork, which only made Hanta all the more uneasy. He didn't know much about the underground side of the heroing world, having spent the entirety of his career thus far as a public hero. His infrequent communication with Shinsou did shed some light into that side of the spectrum, though. He had complained incessantly about his agency the last time he'd come back to the surface, cursing every level above him for never estimating the timeline correctly. A three week mission had ended up taking him three months for sheer lack of information. His most recent mission was supposed to have ended over a month ago, but Hanta had yet to hear anything from him on that front. He wouldn't be surprised if the silence persisted another month still. 

He took up the stray pen sitting idly on the smooth surface of the table, and signed his name on the dotted line. He was already miserable. Might as well be getting paid for it.

They were set to leave for Ishikawa in three days. The agency had managed to secure a run down little studio in a harsher part of the city as their center of operations. 

Hanta worried that being in such close quarters might be a bit of a problem, but quickly dismissed the thought as he toed off his shoes by the front door of the townhouse. Shoto might hate him right now, but he had never let his own opinions get in the way of the job. Any argument would be superfluous. The mission would take precedence over their personal issues.

Or at least, he hoped it would. Miyano was right. Shoto had been pretty damn unpredictable lately. Maybe they'd blow up on each other mid-op and botch the whole thing over a petty argument. Maybe he'd quit in the middle of the mission, leaving Hanta stranded without a partner until they found a replacement. Or maybe they would make amends and actually do their jobs right, though the latter seemed infinitely much more likely than repairing whatever invisible wedge had been shoved between them. 

He shook his head. No. It would be fine. They would keep it professional, speak only when it was relevant to the case. They weren't gonna fuck it up. Neither of them was dying on their first real opportunity to gain more credibility since graduation. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, drawing him out of his scattered thoughts. The screen lit up with a phone call as he gazed down at it. 

'Unknown Caller ID'

He pressed the green button at the bottom of the screen and tried not to sound as off kilter as he felt. 

"Hey, Shinsou!" He greeted him cheerfully. "Denki thinks you're dead, man." 

On the other end of the line, the familiar voice of his former classmate huffed a low chuckle. The sound of it did strange things to Hanta's stomach.

"Denki also thinks Aizawa is my dad." Shinsou said dismissively, and he could practically hear the dramatic eye roll that followed. It'd been a running joke ever since he joined their class, though Denki and Shoto had always adamantly defended their stance that it was in fact the truth. "Actually I'm sorta tryna avoid him tonight. Down to get a drink with me, for old times sake? My treat?" 

Hanta paused his movements, registering the old phrase with no small amount of surprise. It'd certainly been a while since Shinsou had sought out his particular sort of company after a long mission. Usually, he'd head over to Denki's and begrudgingly deal with his fussing, examining new scars and scolding him for being late to wrap up the case. On the rare occasion they did end up in the same room together, it was usually purely by coincidence. They had a lot of overlapping friends, and they each maintained those friendships just enough to be extended a certain number of courtesy invitations. 

Denki had broken up with Shinsou just before his most recent assignment, however. Though Hanta hadn't pressed for details, it got back to him through Kirishima that it had something to do with Shinsou's work schedule, and him bailing on the blonde multiple times within the span of a week before ghosting him for a month. His unpredictable absences had strained their meager relationship, and though they gave it their best effort, they ended up breaking up just under a year after they first got together. 

But that was the thing about guys like Shinsou. He was more practical, less long term relationship and more casual fling. It was the reason Hanta had spent the first few years of his career with at least one visible hickey. 

See, in their last year of high school and onward, Shinsou and him had developed a sort of understanding. The amount of pressure they had all been under during the first two years of their careers was bordering on insanity, and everybody was managing the stress as best they could with whatever vices were readily available. Midoriya, Bakugou, and Ida stayed hopped up on energy drinks for the majority of their last year at UA. Tokoyami, Jiro, and Shoji took up tobacco as their outlet, though they were scolded many times by campus security for being caught with cigarettes. Kaminari, Shinsou, Sero, and a handful of others organized a group smoke sesh on the roof most nights, though ironically it'd ended up almost getting half the class expelled after Aizawa had burst in on them once. They had continued their respective rituals long after graduation, rotating apartments, having parties, drinking themselves silly until all the underlying stress dissipated. 

And of course, as with every outlet a pro hero could choose, sex was a go to for a decent chunk of them. Particularly for Shinsou, who had spent the entirety of his career working in the shadows, doing the very necessary work no public hero could ever get away with. It'd taken a toll on him when they did their final internships, and well, Sero had already been sleeping around with a handful of people, so when Shinsou offered to split a bottle of vodka with him in the middle of their second semester he had been more than happy to oblige his wandering hands.

It wasn't a relationship, by any means. Merely a purely transactional exchange of pleasure, a way to cope with the constant stress their chosen path demanded. They had hooked up on and off over the years, whenever the season was particularly draining or the media particularly brutal, or whenever Shinsou's needs were more than what he could reasonably ask of a stranger. Their friendship had dropped the benefits after he and Denki had officially gotten together, though maybe now that he was single again he wished to return to their prior arrangement. 

Or maybe he just wanted to have a drink. Either way, hanging out with Shinsou would certainly be better than the deafening silence his own home provided. 

Hanta smiled and stooped to pull his boots back on, abandoning his messenger bag beside the shoe rack. 

"Where's your new place? I'll stop by the liquor store, cheaper that way." 

"I'll send you a text."

"Sounds good. Want me to bring some green?" Hanta muttered distractedly, patting his pockets for his wallet. Shinsou hummed an affirmative. 

"See you in a bit, then." 

Shinsou hung up. 

Hanta tugged on a coat and pulled his house keys from his bag, humming delightedly as he found them and his wallet side by side in one of the outer compartments. The little cigarette case of prerolls he kept hidden beside the door found its way into his pocket, and with that, he was off. The location Shinsou had sent him would take about twenty minutes to get to, if he walked. 

He threw a length of tape towards one for the nearby buildings and braced as his feet left the ground, enjoying the feeling of the wind whistling through his hair. 

Sure, he could use a last little confidence boost before this mission. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be.