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Shouto’s best friends sometimes kissed in front of him.
They never did it in public, as far as Shouto knew; they hardly acted like a couple around their other friends at all. Only when they were alone (alone meaning Shouto was there) after Shouto had leaned forward to start whatever movie Izuku had eagerly talked them into watching, did Izuku and Katsuki kiss. Not for long. A bit more than a peck—if Shouto had to guess. He always made sure to be respectful, staring at his lap, waiting for them to be done. He wasn’t weird. He didn’t stare at his friends as they kissed.
Shouto might have been more uncomfortable with them shamelessly kissing in front of him, had it not always proceeded Shouto’s favorite part of movie night. After Shouto started the movie, he pulled himself across the mattress and leaned against the wall. Izuku, then, happily tucked himself against Shouto’s left side, uncaring about personal space. Izuku never cared about that sort of thing, gifting Shouto hugs almost as soon as Shouto told him he hadn’t remembered his last. Oftentimes, Izuku wrapped their arms together and held his hand.
Shouto didn’t mind; he liked making sure his best friend was comfortable. He was warm. After all, if they were in the common room, people fought to be on Shouto’s left side in winter and his right in summer. Secretly, however, he preferred this with Izuku, even if he did like his other friends. It felt deeper somehow. More.
Katsuki, meanwhile, sat a foot or so away from them, fake glowering at the screen—or sometimes actually glaring when Shouto picked a bad movie based on a recommendation from Ashido.
(How was he supposed to know a vampire movie was bad? Weren’t vampires supposed to be cool? Momo said they were cool.)
But whatever Katsuki’s mood was about the film, his petulance was never because Shouto had his boyfriend wrapped around his arm. Shouto had asked once. Katsuki had raised one perfect brow and asked him if he was an idiot; why would he be jealous of Shouto? Which might have hurt, just a tad, that his friend thought Shouto was so beneath him in terms of looks, personality, everything, that he didn’t have to worry about him stealing Izuku away; but, then, Izuku was rubbing his head against his shoulder and saying, “Kacchan's just jealous he doesn’t get to snuggle.”
The result of that statement caused Katsuki to wait twice as long as he usually did for what always came next. (A shame, Shouto liked this part too much, and he hated to have to wait). But what usually occurred, after about twenty minutes into the movie, was that Katsuki reached across the bed to the computer, scooting closer to the pair to turn up the volume. He didn't scoot back. At around the halfway mark, he tugged at the blanket Izuku and Shouto were using, demanding they share. Until finally, he was snuggled against Izuku’s side too. So close both their shampoos blended into one. Coconut and cinnamon. Shouto wondered if they thought his shampoo smelled nice too—but that was a weird thing to ask. It would ruin the mood. He relished in the coziness.
But the best nights of all were the ones where Izuku overheated in the middle, which happened quite a bit—he ran hot, or so he claimed. Because of this, he detached himself from Shouto’s left side, crawled over his lap, and reattached himself onto his right, squeezing his hand twice, once he was settled.
On his other side, Katsuki closed the distance between them, seemingly fond of Shouto’s left side, especially in winter. And if Shouto was really lucky, Katsuki wrapped his arm around Shouto’s back to play with the curls along Izuku’s neck because they were cute like that. Always touching and stuff.
It made Shouto warm to know his best friends felt this comfortable with him that they were willing to share these types of moments with him. To be affectionate without making it weird. To be best friends.
Shouto’s best friends weren’t always his best friends.
Shouto liked to think that they were, but Shouto didn’t know a lot about etiquette and how one goes about becoming a best friend versus becoming a friend.
He had trouble figuring out the friend part too. For instance, Izuku called him a friend almost as soon as his hand healed after destroying it during their Sports Festival. Not really a fine example of Shouto’s skills in becoming a good friend, but who was he to judge Izuku’s choices? He liked being his friend.
Katsuki was even harder to judge. Somehow Shouto thought that studying together, hanging out together, eating together, and training together during their remedial courses made them friends. It did not. Shouto didn’t let it bruise his ego too much. Katsuki had trouble calling Kirishima his friend too during their first year, and Shouto was persistent, after all, friends tell friends to text one another.
But to move up to the level of best friend was a big step in any relationship. Shouto wasn’t sure he was best in anything, save for the best in being split down the middle, but the only thing he had to do to achieve that was to make sure his part wasn’t messy. (Izuku and Katsuki both liked to fix it, even if they asked to so in different ways).
The point was Shouto spent the better half of a year biting his tongue to keep from referring to either Katsuki or Izuku his best anything, until they had "The Talk"—or confession as Izuku referred to it.
One weekend, three months ago, they got stuck running a patrol that got extended into the early hours of the morning. When they finally got back to their shared room at the agency, it was all they could do but fall over one another in a heap on the floor. Sweaty, sticky, and covered in grime. Their hero costumes, a mixture of colorful shreds of fabric.
Shouto fell asleep almost instantly, but at some point, he woke up—the restlessness of missions sometimes did that. Katsuki was up too. He was wiping dirt off of Izuku’s cheek who was hanging off of Shouto’s arm. It was only because of that Shouto realized he was clean too. Clean and wearing a t-shirt that wasn’t his.
“If you say anything, I’ll wake you up with an explosion to your face for the next month,” Katsuki said, though the threat had less bite due to the volume and how tenderly he was rubbing at Izuku’s skin to clean it.
Shouto promised he wouldn’t, moving to be on his side to watch him. However, the momentum of it must have jostled Izuku too much because his nose scrunched, brows furrowed, and he shook his head a bit, before slowly opening his eyes to stare at him.
He yawned, “Shouto-kun,” before rolling onto his back, nearly colliding with Katsuki, who had the sense to move out of the way before he did. Even though Katsuki was hiding the cloth, Izuku still said, “thank-you for taking care of me, Kacchan.”
Katsuki might have blushed, but it was dark, so Shouto couldn’t be sure.
The pair talked and Izuku got up at one point to change himself before settling back down beside Shouto. Shouto might have drifted off though because the next thing he knew, he was being jostled with two eager eyes staring at him—well Izuku’s eyes were eager, Katsuki’s were guarded, but optimistic.
Shouto asked, “what?”
“I told you he wasn’t paying attention,” Katsuki said.
“He’s just tired. We’re all tired. It’s understandable.” Izuku said.
“I’m not tired,” Shouto said, “I was paying attention.”
“What were me and Deku talking about then,” Katsuki asked.
Shouto looked between them both, searching his brain for something until he realized he really hadn’t been paying attention, and therefore really was a shit friend. Only he was sleepy and Izuku was so warm. Easy to fall asleep against. And, Katsuki was closer to him than he last remembered. Close enough that he was able to ruffle Shouto’s hair and say, “you’re lucky you’re pretty, Halfie, making me say this shit twice.”
“Say what twice?”
“Well, I was telling Kacchan that I never want to lose this, us, I want us to be together forever. All three of us because you both are important to me.” Izuku said, “my most important people. I like you guys, really, really, like you.”
Shouto could tell he was serious because of his blush. Izuku only blushed around people he liked.
“And I agree with him,” Katsuki finished, but with less of Izuku’s awe, and more like Shouto was lucky Katsuki even thought about him—which Shouto was. He was very lucky. “So, what about you?”
“What about me?”
Izuku nervously played with his hands in his lap, “do you feel the same way about us?”
Shouto started to nod. Of course, he cared deeply about Izuku and Katsuki; they were his greatest friends. Friends cared about one another, and that was how this whole thing worked.
“No, no, before you start dopily shaking your head so you can go back to sleep. I need you to understand what Izuku’s asking you. Okay? Do you understand?”
“Yes?”
(Maybe Shouto didn’t understand).
“No, do you understand, we’re not asking you to be our friend, we’re asking you if you want to—” It was Katsuki’s turn to blush. It was rarer for Shouto to see, but it was just as pretty as on Izuku. “—become something more than friends.”
oh.
oh.
Izuku and Katsuki were asking him to be their best friend.
Why would Shouto want anything else?
He cared about this so much—he loved them (in the way friends do, of course). He also wanted to spend the rest of his life with them. He said as much, and both Izuku and Katsuki deflated, relieved. Shouto wasn’t sure why they were so stressed in the first place. It was the first night Izuku fell asleep curled under Shouto’s chin with Katsuki pressed against his back, his arm laying overtop both of them.
Shouto’s best friends never went out without inviting Shouto along too.
No matter how much Shouto tried to insist he was okay letting them go off on their own, they were always twice as persistent. He’d come with. It was nice to be wanted. It was nice to be included.
Whenever they walked together, they always did so side by side. Three abreast. Never once leaving someone to trail behind. Even in busy places like the mall. Izuku and Katsuki guarded him on either side so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd—Shouto was apparently too easily distracted by sparkly things or would quote “walk into an unmarked van if someone offered him to pet their cat, like an idiot.”
(Shouto thought whoever didn’t jump on the option of free cat snuggles was an idiot but then again no one asked him.)
In reality, he knew his friends were on either side of him because Shouto got overwhelmed easily in crowds and hated when strangers knocked into him even on accident. Or, worse, when people recognized him and started asking him questions no one should be asking in a mall of all places. It made the whole experience of shopping, anxiety-inducing and exhausting.
So, his best friends protected him.
It was nice. He let them drag him around to all the stores they recognized. Sometimes they’d all try on clothes and laugh at one another for looking stupid.
(Or hot, Katsuki made him buy a shirt once because it made him look good—and who was Shouto to argue against fashion that made him look nice? He wanted to look nice. And Izuku got a matching one in a different color. Shouto had to admit that it did make his friend look good. Really good. Katsuki knew how to pick out a shirt.)
Unsurprisingly, Izuku and Katsuki’s favorite store in the mall was the chain store that sold exclusive hero merchandise. They saved it for last, which made it seem like they were restrained, almost adults, but in reality, they were monsters. Shoulder checking each other at the entrance, in a race to find the most limited edition All Might product.
Shouto let them go, looking between graphic tees and figures, or, sorting between keychains and buttons, wondering which one Izuku didn’t have to add to his backpack.
He was looking at stickers, a particular All Might-themed one, which was glittery and gold—one Shouto nearly wanted to get in order to see his father’s face when he saw it on his water bottle—when someone called his name. He looked up. There at the edge of the store, as if partly scared to come in, was a girl he recognized from UA, but didn’t know the name of (Shouto was bad at that type of thing, he usually relied on others, so he didn’t embarrass himself by not knowing). To save himself from that, he said simply, “hello.”
The girl blushed. It colored her whole face in a weird, blotchy red color, almost sickly, and Shouto briefly considered asking if she needed help. But he figured if she was a hero. She wouldn’t waste time like this. She fisted both of her hands in her skirt and looked at her feet. Shouto did too, wondering if a tile was broken. It was not.
When she looked back up, she said, “I know you’re with your friends, but I was wondering if you wanted to wait for them with me at the ice cream shop a couple stores down?”
Shouto did like ice cream. Cold deserts were superior in every way, and ice cream sometimes came with smaller candies inside of it. An extra bonus sweet treat. However, he couldn’t just leave his friends without saying anything to them. And they liked ice cream too.They would probably want to come with.
He said as much to the girl, who frowned, but then furrowed her brows in a determined way—kind of like Katsuki did just before he mastered yet another move and Shouto was left on his back staring up at the sky, while the sun haloed around Katsuki above him, making him glow.
“Well, I was hoping,” the girl said, “that we could maybe go alone, like a date.”
oh no.
Dates were what couples did alone. As far as Shouto knew, Izuku and Katsuki had never gone on one. While being alone in a store didn’t quite make much sense to Shouto as a date, they probably wouldn’t mind the extra time alone. Shouto was always accidentally ruining their alone time together (though to be fair, he had tried to tell them this). If they wouldn’t purposely exclude Shouto, Shouto could exclude himself. Give them some time to properly enjoy a date.
“At the ice cream place?”
The girl’s eyes shined with hope, as she rapidly shook her head, “yes.”
But just when Shouto was about to agree, someone was at his side.
Katsuki was glaring, and not in the Shouto you’re a moron type of way, but the look he got just before he kicked someone’s ass. But there were no villains around. Shouto would have noticed.
Shouto was about to comment on it when Izuku appeared ahead of him, partially blocking him, and asking,
“What’s this about ice cream?”
Izuku sounded genuinely curious. So, Shouto told them that she had invited him to go and get some. Izuku listened to him rapt attention.
“Do you want ice cream?” He asked.
Katsuki scoffed at his side. “Of course, he wants ice cream. If I didn’t feed him properly, he’d only ever eat sweets.”
“That’s not fair Kacchan, I saw Shoukun make ramen the other day just fine.”
“He burned it.”
(He had.)
“Umm,” the girl said, “I would be able to bring Todoroki-kun to get ice cream if he wants it.”
Both of his friend’s necks snapped to face the girl. He didn’t blame her for flinching, Shouto might have too, had he not grown obnoxiously relaxed in their presence.
To his left, Katsuki said, “Deku, how do you feel about ice cream?”
To his right, “ice cream sounds like a great idea. Shoukun?”
“I’d like some ice cream.”
“Fantastic,” Katsuki said, “Deku go buy your shit so I can buy Halfie that blue crap he likes before he gets antsy and leaves without us.”
Izuku made a noise like he was going to protest, but instead of that, he plucked out the sticker Shouto was still holding. For a good measure, he stuck out his tongue at Katsuki before disappearing back to pay for his stuff.
“I wouldn’t have left,” Shouto told Katsuki while they waited. Why would he? They were his best friends. Katsuki didn’t respond. But when they left the store, he had two people holding his hand as they made their way toward the restaurant, almost as if they were scared to let him go.
Shouto’s best friends sometimes fought to see who was better.
In the mud.
During a rainstorm.
In October.
Everyone froze.
(Well, Shouto didn’t, but, details.)
To be fair, they always used any extra time they managed to get on Saturday's to train, and while the weather had called for rain, eventually, that was no reason for heroes in training to take a day off. Or so Izuku had said. Shouto had very much been interested in the rest of the class, taking the opportunity to stay inside and watch trash tv all afternoon, but he would have felt bad if he let Izuku and Katsuki work themselves ragged while he sat inside eating popcorn between Kaminari and Uraraka.
It was already sprinkling by the time they got to the field, still wet from the storm that passed through a day ago, not that Shouto was scared of water. More distracted that Izuku was pulling off the top of his gym uniform, deciding to fight in only a tank top—something about working on blackwhip, but Shouto only heard bicep, zoned out, and then immediately stared at his shoes for being weird.
Katsuki got his attention by calling his name, demanding they spar while Izuku worked on whatever it was he was doing. Flying maybe? Seeing if he could touch the clouds, which were rather low, given the weather. Shouto wondered once Izuku figured out how to stand on top of them if he’d bring Katsuki and Shouto up there with him too.
For his thoughts, he was kneed in the gut. Worse, Katsuki was fuming since Shouto wasn’t giving it his all. Shouto amended that. They went at it for a bit, until Izuku was satisfied, smelling slightly of ozone. His hair, a bit frizzier than usual. From there, they spared one-on-one-on-one. For Shouto, sparring like this was the best because it allowed them to operate more under the guise of surprise. No one quite knew who he would attack next and vice versa. It made the exercise seem more palpable.
Especially during the rain, which caused all three of them to slip, and slide, even Shouto who was supposedly better at this sort of thing. With every missed footstep or punch, their grim expressions lessened, and soon enough Izuku was giggling, sliding under Shouto on accident, causing him to fall too. Izuku’s laugh was infectious, not even Katsuki could stop the smile from stretching across his face as he stood over them declaring he won.
(couldn’t stop the smile on Shouto's face too.)
Izuku called for a water break, dragging Katsuki to the ground with them, before grabbing his bag. While Izuku was digging through it, looking for water, Shouto stared up at the clouds, watching the rainfall, blissful as it kissed his cheeks. For his reverence he got a water bottle thrown at his shoulder, Katsuki stating he better stop looking like that while the rest of them were suffering.
Shouto didn’t know what to say, instead, thanking Izuku for the water, drinking it while Izuku settled beside him. Their conversation drifted to an upcoming English essay all three of them were dreading.
Eventually, though, Izuku said, “I don’t know if I’m getting better at the new kick, or if Shoukun just favors fighting me, and I know how to properly use it against him.”
(Shouto got distracted by how high Izuku could kick; it was unfair.)
“Favors you? What’s that shit supposed to mean?”
“Not like that, Kacchan,” Izuku clarified, “we’re just used to doing certain things with each other. You two have special combos too.”
Not satisfied, Katsuki turned to Shouto. “Do you like fighting the nerd more?”
Shouto took too long to respond, he knew that, but it wasn’t an easy question. Sparring with Izuku came with a running commentary about what either of them could improve on with each consecutive match. Plus, Izuku was always so positive with every hit Shouto got in, encouraging him to do better. But fighting against Katsuki wasn’t bad. It was more fast-paced. No coddling. He knew Shouto could take it. And Shouto could. There was a thrill when it boiled down to instinct only. Raw punches and split lips.
“I like you both,” he ended up saying, “I don’t prefer fighting either of you.”
“Well obviously you’re not biased,” Katsuki said, “Get up Deku, we’re proving who’s the best right now.”
“At fighting Shoukun?”
“At fighting, period,” Katsuki said, “since Icy Hot like us both he can be impartial when he claims I’m better.”
“When I’m better,” Izuku declared.
Shouto somehow, without raising one fist, got the dirtiest.
He might have been more concerned, but Izuku and Katsuki were fighting. There was something about how they took each sparring session to heart, as if it was the last time they’d ever prove themselves to one another. Izuku would jump and Katsuki would counter. Katsuki would level Izuku with a barrage of explosions, and Izuku would dance around them, taking one in the arm without pausing, maintaining his momentum so that he could kick Katsuki—the one he was so fond of using on Shouto.
A spectacular show of color, Shouto itched to add his own power to. To stare at a masterpiece and selfishly say, “I am here too. I belong too.” To paint blues and reds in between oranges and greens. To be a part of something bigger than himself.
If this was what being a best friend felt like, then Shouto was grateful he said “yes,” all those nights ago. Too distracted, he didn’t notice when the pair came to a huffing stop. Katsuki, spinning on his heels, pointing to Shouto and saying,
“Well, tell us who’s better.”
Only Shouto wasn’t thinking much about fighting, with the way the rain was picking up, and mud was streaking down his friend’s forearms and chest. How if he looked at Izuku the freckles would blend into it, save for where finger marks crossed his jaw where he had attempted to wipe the mud away. How frizzy hair was beginning to drip, and how ashen blonde hair looked plastered against a forehead. And Shouto was sitting beyond them, dirtier, he was sure, his own hair dripping on his nose.
“I think it’s a tie.” Shouto said, and then because he was a shit, “though Izuku did get one more punch in.”
Katsuki’s face scrunched up, and for a moment Shouto thought he was going to have to fight him again. A bruised-ego-Katsuki was always an interesting match, Shouto had to be twice as mindful in it.
Instead, Katsuki said, “you’re lucky you’re pretty.”
Shouto blinked twice, tilting his head. It wasn’t the first time his friend had said it, but Shouto was struck that maybe he was supposed to respond.
“You’re pretty too," he said.
The mud may have hid if he turned any color from Shouto’s words, but the shock in the rest of his features was palpable, and the fact that Katsuki staggered back, as if hit, even though Shouto hadn’t moved. Apparently, not enough people had told Katsuki he was pretty, which was a shame, he was. When Shouto got Izuku alone, he’d recommend to Izuku to start telling his boyfriend he was pretty.
Meanwhile, Izuku was trying to hide his smile from behind his hand. Eyes sparkling. Pretty too. For boyfriends who didn’t know how to act like boyfriends, Shouto would need to do a better job showing them the way. (As if he knew what “the way” was, maybe Momo could help). But that was a problem for future him. For now, he had a more pressing issue.
“Izuku.” Izuku’s eyes darted from his boyfriend, who had nearly recovered, to Shouto. “You’re pretty too.”
It had the desired effect. Shouto could see the resulting blush, and the way his eyes crinkled at the edges that gave away how truly happy he was. His heart fluttered in his chest, in an attempt fly him away. He wanted to keep making Izuku happy. He wanted to keep making them both happy.
Katsuki bumped his shoulder against Izuku, before sitting down opposite of Shouto. He said, “fuck, Halfie, you shouldn’t be allowed to say shit like that. You’re going to kill someone.”
Izuku scrambled to sit beside Katsuki. Eager and on his knees when he said, “we think you’re pretty too. Very pretty. Beautiful really. Like sometimes I think I can't possibly find you even more attractive and then here I am, star-stuck and,”
Katsuki knocked into his shoulder again, telling him to stop. Shouto didn’t voice his disappointment at that. People called him handsome all the time. Ashido had a list that declared him the most handsome. But somehow this, in a muddy field, under the rain, was better. More believable.
Shouto had two best friends and they thought he was pretty.
(and knew he found them pretty too.)
Shouto’s best friends sometimes said, “I love you,” in front of him.
Katsuki insisted they go on a hike to see the sunset. Shouto thought that was awfully romantic but knew better by now than try to extract himself from the date. He was slowly trying to introduce the idea of being in a proper relationship to the pair, but either they weren’t paying attention, or they didn’t care. Possibly, Shouto thought that maybe they just didn't mind if Shouto was around, so used to his presence that without it, it would get weird—or they were too nervous to be alone with each other properly. Shouto did not know, and no amount of reasoning caused them to change their mind; Shouto came with.
Katsuki was well prepared for how ill-prepared Izuku and Shouto were. He brought extra mittens for Izuku and two granola bars because he always got hungry but never wanted to say anything. He gave Shouto a camera to take pictures of “cute, pretty shit or whatever” to make sure Shouto didn’t get bored, and to trick him into running up ahead in his effort to get a picture of a bunny.
(Shouto did not like climbing mountains or running. He did like taking pictures though, cleverly sneaking in pictures of his friends because they potentially had an anniversary coming up and a framed picture made a good gift—granted Shouto didn’t actually know when the pair started dating, and at this point, it was too late to ask)
Katsuki also brought Shouto candy, which he gave out every time it looked like Shouto was about to give in and collapse on the trail. Dead to the world. A tempting fate every time they came to a bend, and the trail kept going, and going, and going—no number of pictures to distract him from his fate. The candy did help, though.
Shouto did make it to their destination. A bench overlooking the cliffside just before sunset.
It really was romantic.
After Izuku and Katsuki had their fun daring each other to see who got the closest to the edge without falling (Izuku cheated, using float, but they pretended they didn’t see) the pair sat on the bench. Shouto thought he was being sneaky, taking a photo of them like that, both sun-warmed huddled together in their coats and mittens, speaking softly between one another. He was not. Almost as soon as the photo was taken, Izuku perked up and told Shouto to come to the bench too. They both slid apart, leaving a middle seat open for him. He sat down, while Izuku took the camera from him and pushed them all back together, calling out “cheese” and taking a photo.
Katsuki huffed that it better look good, and Izuku insisted that it would. Eagerly talking about how excited he was to have Shouto get it developed. Shouto was excited too. He liked seeing his friends smile.
Soon enough the camera was abandoned to the bench, and Izuku was curled against his side, his head leaning against his chest and his hair, tickling his nose. Even better, Katsuki threw his arm around them far sooner than he usually did, rubbing Izuku’s shoulder. Shouto selfishly enjoyed the couple’s warmth as they watched the sunset together.
Then something happened on the cliff overlooking green, bustling trees, and a sky a myriad of warming colors.
It was here that Izuku said, right over Shouto’s heart, “I love you.”
It was here that Katsuki said, looking at Shouto in his effort to look at Izuku. “I love you too.”
And it is here that Shouto felt that he really, really, should be somewhere else.
He jumped up and both boys fell on top of one another in the vacuum Shouto left, cursing.
“What the fuck, Icyhot? Someone bite you in the ass?”
Izuku was rubbing his head where it had hit Katsukis's shoulder, asking Shouto, “are you okay?”
They were both staring at him and Shouto had words and then didn’t have words. So much he wanted to say but was also scared that then things were going to change. A problem since, Shouto very much liked the way things were.
His lack of response caused Katsuki to say, “this is your fault, Deku.”
“My fault? It was the spur of the moment thing. You said it too. Besides, my mom always said it’s important to tell people you love them while you can. I love you too Kacchan if that’s what you’re upset about.”
“Tch, I know you love me,” he said, “and I love you. But,” he pointed to Shouto, “look what you did. You made Icyhot uncomfortable. I knew it was too soon for him.”
Shouto blinked. Maybe he was uncomfortable—he did jump awfully fast after it happened. But, no, he wasn’t uncomfortable that they said they loved each other. People in healthy relationships did that kind of thing.
“I’m not uncomfortable if Izuku tells you he loves you. And I’m not upset if you tell Izuku you love him.”
The pair's response was five seconds of silence.
“Wait—
“Shoukun, who do you think I was speaking to before?”
“Katsuki.” He didn’t comment on how ludicrous the question was, though Izuku seemed to be moments from collapsing off the bench in despair. “But it’s fine because he’s your boyfriend.”
“And what are you?” Katsuki asked.
“What am I?” Shouto might have tilted his head, trying to piece out something he was missing.
Katsuki nodded, “who are you to us?”
Shouto searched Izuku for help, but he was currently hiding his face in his mittens, possibly sobbing. Shouto couldn’t tell.
“Your best friend?”
Shouto all of a sudden was very concerned that he had misread their relationship up until this point. What if they were only friends? And Shouto had made it weird. Best friends and boyfriends were probably on the same level.
Before he could say anything though, Izuku dropped his hands from his face and said, “I told you he didn’t know.”
“He said yes. How much clearer was I supposed to make it,” Katsuki said back. They shared an intense stare-down, and now Shouto was feeling pretty bad. He didn’t want his friends to fight because of him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I can go. I’m sorry.”
“No,” Izuku said, “Shoukun wait.”
Shouto hesitated, staring at the ground.
“Listen to the nerd, Halfie, come back here.”
Shouto did listen, approaching the bench but staying far enough away that he didn’t accidentally touch one of them.
“Okay,” Izuku started, “you remember several months ago after our internship we all collapsed on the floor, too tired to move further?”
Shouto nodded, that was when the cuddling started. Shouto’s favorite pastime.
“Alright and you remember how I said, I cared deeply about you both and hoped we’d continue fighting together, but also stay together outside of our jobs too?”
Shouto nodded again, biting his lip. This whole thing felt strangely like he was being scolded.
“And you agreed,” Katsuki said, “when I clarified that I wanted us all to be more than friends because I don’t half ass shit. You remember agreeing to the more than friends’ part? You had a stupid dopey smile the rest of the night.”
“Yes,” Shouto said, he had been really happy that night. “Because I was excited about us becoming more than friends…best friends.”
Katsuki and Izuku groaned in unison.
“We don’t have to be,” Shouto said, his heart aching, “I can go back to just being your—
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
Shouto shut his mouth, scared to look at either of them.
“Shouto, Kacchan wasn’t asking if you wanted to be his best friend, he was asking if you wanted to be his boyfriend. Our boyfriend.”
oh.
oh.
His eyes snapped up to the both of them—probably too eager. “Really?”
“For fucks sake, yes,” Katsuki said, “you’re lucky you’re pretty, you’re a goddamn idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Shouto said petulantly.
“No, you’re not,” Izuku said, grabbing Shouto’s hand, tugging him closer to the bench. “We should have made sure we were all on the same page.”
“Wait,” Shouto said, “does this mean we’ve been dating since then?”
Izuku and Katsuki shared a look before they both nodded.
“But you guys’ kiss? You never kissed me.” Shouto was pouting now.
“We didn’t want to make—
Katsuki grabbed Shouto’s collar and pulled him down, smashing their lips together. Katsuki obviously knew what he was doing since their noses didn’t crash. His lips were slightly sweet from the candy earlier, soft too.
Katsuki pulled away, freeing Shouto’s collar. “Happy? You had your first kiss.”
“Well actually Kacchan, Shouto’s first kiss was with me when we were first years,” Izuku said.
“What?”
“We wanted to get our first kiss out of the way. Think of it as practicing—
“Practicing my ass.”
“It didn’t mean anything; he probably doesn't remember it.”
“I don’t.” Shouto said, “you should remind me.”
Izuku smiled, saying “okay,” before sitting on his knees. He was gentler when he pulled Shouto against him. Also practiced. His lips were drier than Katsukis's, but it was just as nice.
Distantly he heard Katsuki make a remark, but Shouto was too floaty to hear it. It was probably a good thing Izuku was holding on to him, or else he’d float away from sheer happiness. Shouto had two boyfriends.
Someone, probably Izuku, pulled him back onto his spot on the bench. The sunset was pretty, far prettier now that he got to bask in it with boyfriends. Romantic too, romantic because it was a date. This whole time his friends hadn’t been being bad at dating, they had been exceptionally well at it. Super patient, given Shouto's density.
But Izuku was still tense to his right and Katsuki’s knee was touching his, but a little else. So Shouto said, sitting up, kissing Katsuki’s cheek, “I love you.” And while the man spluttered and cursed, he turned to Izuku and kissed his cheek too. “I love you.”
Both of them looked mighty beautiful when he leaned back, looking back at him, framed by a nearly-vanished, setting sun, and clouds of pink and purple. Shouto felt impossibly full. Complete. They got closer. Unabashed when both of them kissed his cheeks, restating their own love. And when they pulled back, Shouto watched, with newfound understanding, the look they shared, something soft, something sweet. Something his, but his to share.
Shouto's boyfriends sometimes kissed in front of him.
(They always kissed him next.)