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It’s not like Hanta’s never been a little beaten up from training before- but the bruise on his back hurts.
It’s bad enough that it’s hard to breath, each inhale sending a hot spike of pain up through his back that zigzags along his ribs; Hanta has to inhale with short pants to avoid the worst of it. Even then, it’s impossible to circumvent. He’s hunched over by the time training is done, hero uniform only half off because his back seizes up as he pulls it off.
He doesn’t notice Todoroki settling down in front of him. Hanta is too busy trying to regulate his breathing, to convince his quivering muscles to relax. The warm hand on his knee startles him and his jerk of surprise forces a choked groan out of his mouth.
“Sero?” Todoroki murmurs, looking up at him through his bangs. He has a look on his face that seems blank- but Hanta recognizes the tightened brows and furrow in his nose to be concern. Hanta tries to grin, respond with his trademark smile, but he’s sure it comes out looking more like a grimace than anything.
“Are you injured?” Todoroki asks, and Hanta rubs the back of his head abashedly.
“I may have gotten a little banged up,” He says, dropping his gaze to his lap, where his costume pools around his waist. Todoroki frowns and shifts slightly.
“Can I see?” He asks, and- who is Hanta to refuse? Of anyone, Todoroki has seen the most of him, so- Hanta nods and turns slowly, wincing as his bruise twists. He doesn’t see the look on Todoroki’s face but feels how the hand on his knee- right, right, it’s still there, still big and warm - tightens. It slides up his leg to mid thigh as Todoroki leans forward and suddenly it’s very, very hard for Hanta to focus on anything else.
And then a blessedly cool pressure appears on the bruise, pressing until it’s tender but without eliciting too much pain. Hanta glances over his shoulder to see Todoroki focused on the swollen contour of his back, his right hand spread over the rapidly darkening bruise. Frost arcs delicately across his knuckles but Hanta never feels the bite.
“Todoroki-“ Hanta starts, but he presses a little harder and the cold relief is so intoxicating that Hanta groans and drops his head low. The hand on his thigh squeezes and Hanta can’t help but let his legs fall open a little more. For a moment he regrets it- feels his face flood with colour as he panics about his response and the noise and what Todoroki will think- but then Todoroki’s hand slips up bit by bit and settles just under his hip.
Hanta glances up with wide eyes and stares, meets Todoroki’s own flushed gaze. He opens his mouth and- and tries to say something, tries to bridge this new tension between them- but then someone shouts from the other side of the locker room and they both startle. Todoroki’s hand returns to his knee and Hanta instantly misses the warmth.
“I can ice that more later,” He says, his voice low and a little hoarse, and Hanta swallows. He nods quickly and can’t tear his eyes away from the intense look on Todoroki’s face.
“Help me with this first?” Hanta asks with a gesture at his costume, feeling like he’s testing the waters, and Todoroki blushes- boy, does he blush - but nods and stands. He helps Hanta up with a hand to his elbow and one against his ribcage, a little above the bruise. The contrast between his grips is startling, and Hanta feels an odd swoop in his stomach at the sight of Todoroki’s arm muscles as he stands.
The warm hand goes to the bunched material at his waist, and Hanta tries to lean over to help but can’t restrain the whine at the pain. Todoroki glares at him sideways and loops his arm around his back to press against his other side- and wow, wow Hanta can feel his biceps. Todoroki’s hand brushes against Hanta’s stomach as he grabs the costume and his stomach shivers and tightens at it, and Hanta knows the other boy saw even though he doesn’t say anything- how else can he interpret the subtle tightening of his supporting arm?
Once the costume is pushed down to his knees Hanta lifts the hand he had braced against Todoroki’s shoulder- and again, that boy’s muscles- and kicks his way out of the rest of it. He grins sheepishly at Todoroki as he helps him sit and is rewarded by the smallest of crinkles at the corners of his eyes. With anyone else that’s nothing, but with Todoroki that’s a win.
It hurts- really hurts, honestly- to struggle back into his uniform and get dressed, but Hanta can’t ask Todoroki to help dress him. He’s already offered to ice the bruise later, which- the thought of it makes Hanta’s mouth go dry, for no good reason.
Kaminari catches the whole thing and sidles up to Hanta as he’s lacing his shoes. He has this insufferable grin and leans in real close.
“So, what was that about with pretty boy?” He asks, and Hanta pushes his face away so quickly Kaminari squawks and falls off of the bench.
Hours later and Hanta hears knocking at his door.
He practically leaps to his feet- he hasn’t been able to focus on anything except the memory of how Todoroki’s hand had felt against his thigh, his back, and Hanta is almost ashamed of how badly he wants that feeling back.
Unsurprisingly, Todoroki waits in the hall, fresh out of the shower and in joggers and a t-shirt. Hanta lets him in and offers drinks or snacks, of which Todoroki takes the former. But even when he hands over a bottle of water Todoroki sets it aside and stops by his bed.
“I’d like to ice that bruise before it gets worse,” He says quietly, and Hanta is just- Hanta’s always been weak for him, okay? Especially with how much closer they’ve gotten in the past few months. His voice has such a nice timbre and his eyes are- beautiful, and Hanta’s dreamt up way too much poetry about them, honestly. Todoroki is quiet but sweet, and even though sometimes he struggles with talking he’s incredibly funny. Hanta can’t help but- but admire him, and maybe ogle over the fact that they’re actually- maybe- dating.
So Hanta just settles on his stomach on the edge of the bed. He makes sure to tuck his elbows in as Todoroki sits next to his legs, tugs the edge of his shirt up until it’s bundled under his armpits. He runs his hands up Hanta’s back, starting at his waist and dragging his palms along his skin and- fuck, fuck that feels so nice, it sends a shiver down his spine and Hanta has to bury his face in his pillow. If he had looked, he would have seen the enraptured expression on Todoroki’s face.
“Tell me if it hurts,” Todoroki murmurs, and then carefully kneads his cool hand into the bruise. Initially Hanta flinches away from the contact, but the cold feels even better than it did before. He’s just relaxing back into the bed when he feels Todoroki’s other hand rub gentle circles into the flesh around the bruise, and the warmth feels delicious. Hanta can’t help but moan into the crook of his arm. He arches his back into the touch and Todoroki increases his pressure in response.
Hanta hums and inhales deeply, feels the bruise protest but nowhere near as bad as before. He can finally take deep breaths and it’s only been a few minutes!
“Better?” Todoroki asks, his voice hoarse and deep, and Hanta shivers. Todoroki’s hands still and Hanta rolls over to look at him. For a moment, no one moves- and then Todoroki plants a hand next to Hanta’s head and leans forward, caging him in. His bangs brush against Hanta’s face. Suddenly it’s hard for Hanta to inhale, but for entirely different reasons than before- suddenly there’s a heat in his chest and stomach, and an itch under his skin for Todoroki to come closer.
“Better,” Hanta murmurs in assent, and tilts his head back subtly, bringing their mouths closer together. He knows Todoroki sees, knows because there’s no way he doesn’t notice the long column of his throat bared, doesn’t feel the puffs of air from his mouth. A flush crawls its way up Todoroki’s lovely cheekbones and Hanta wants to press his lips to it.
A cool hand settles on his waist, tucked neatly above Hanta’s hipbone, and his eyes fall shut as Todoroki’s thumb starts rubbing slow circles into his skin. He doesn’t even realize how he’s canting his body into the contact until Todoroki presses down to still him and leans closer.
Todoroki’s eyes flit over Hanta’s face; they catch on his lips and follow the line of his nose, trace his eyebrows. The entire time Hanta can’t stop watching them. He’d proudly call himself enamored because it’s true. One eye is a lovely blue porcelain, pale and striking; the other is a warm brown that’s deep and impenetrable. Hanta has had so much time to watch and look and memorize the hues, and yet it’s not enough. Perhaps there will never be enough.
“Can I kiss you?” Todoroki whispers, his voice so deep it sends a vibration through Hanta’s chest, and- and he almost chokes on the “yes” that he forces out, intoxicated by the proximity and feeling of Todoroki pressed against him. He catches Todoroki’s biceps, fixated on his parted lips, and lets his eyes fall shut as the other boy leans closer.
The first touch is delicate and almost unsure, off-centered, but- Todoroki’s lips are dry and soft, and Hanta can’t help but press into them, let his hands slide up to Todoroki’s shoulders.
The hand on his waist squeezes and then slips sideways to splay across Hanta’s stomach. Todoroki’s fingers brush the raised bumps of his ribcage and Hanta inhales sharply at the feeling- Todoroki pulls back, eyes wide and face flushed, and Hanta feels his own face grow red. He tries to stutter something out, anything- but Todoroki’s hand gently cups Hanta’s cheek and he freezes.
It’s Todoroki’s warm hand that cradles his face, and Hanta notices the expression the other boy gets at his jolt- he knows, remembers from the tournament, what his fire means to him- so before he can pull away Hanta turns his head and presses his lips to Todoroki’s wrist. He holds his eyes, watches the way the other boy flushes even more and drops eye contact to stare at Hanta’s mouth. The way Todoroki looks at him is intoxicating and endearing all at once.
“I’d like to kiss you again,” Todoroki whispers, staring determinedly at Hanta’s mouth, and- and of course he’s not going to say no. He tugs gently on Todoroki’s arms and rolls him over so they can lay side by side. He has to be careful with his gangly arms. Their legs tangle together and Hanta feels his shirt get even more rucked up, but he doesn’t fix it. He doesn’t want Todoroki to stop touching him.
Their lips meet again, just a gentle press, and Hanta can’t keep his hands from slipping up Todoroki’s shoulders to frame his throat. His skin is so soft, and Hanta would have to be a fool to miss the way Todoroki leans into his hold. He gently swipes his thumbs along the skin, split between the press of their lips and the pulse beating wildly beneath his palms, and is endeared when Todoroki sighs against his mouth.
Todoroki pulls back only to hitch himself onto his elbow and lean over Hanta. He slides his warm hand to the back of his skull and threads his fingers through the long hair there, scratching ever so lightly against Hanta’s scalp; it’s easy to let his eyes fall shut and hum as Todoroki cradles him.
Todoroki leans down and their lips meet again in an undemanding kiss; and then again, and again. Hanta swiftly loses count of their kisses as Todoroki leans farther over him, a hand returning to the uncovered expanse of his stomach. It’s hard not to move closer to his touch, so Hanta doesn’t even try. He shuffles closer, until their waists press together, and pulls Todoroki over him.
The other boy hesitates, elbow dropping beside his face to the bed to keep from crushing Hanta, pulling away to look down on him. Though his bangs obscure part of his face, Todoroki is easy to read. Past the flushed cheeks and pinked lips he’s nervous. It startles Hanta, to realize this. He didn’t even think to ask what Todoroki was okay with.
“Is this fine?” He asks, slipping his hands up to run through Todoroki’s hair. It’s- so fucking soft, and Hanta has dreamed of doing it for so long it almost feels unreal.
“I-“ Todoroki stutters, eyes wide and fixed on Hanta’s face, before collapsing and burying his face in Hanta’s neck. He’s incredibly warm against his skin. Hanta is- he’s confused, yeah, but he just chuckles and leaves one hand to run through Todoroki’s hair. The other goes down to his waist to tug him fully onto his lap, and Hanta wiggles his legs out from under Todoroki to bracket his waist. It’s easy and natural to drop that hand on Todoroki’s back, after that, and rub slow circles there.
“Can I call you Hanta?” Todoroki suddenly asks, and the feeling of his lips brushing his throat momentarily distracts Hanta.
“Of course,” He whispers, and his eyes slip shut as Todoroki’s hands settle on his bare sides, big and broad and gentle.
“You can call me Shouto,” He says. Hanta’s eyes blink open and he glances over, sure of the surprised expression on his face and unembarrassed by it. Todoroki looks at him from the side, peering through his bangs shyly. He has a small smile on his lips that Hanta falls in love with far too quickly.
“Shouto,” Hanta whispers, and can only watch with adoration as Todoroki’s eyes widen before he buries his face back in Hanta’s shoulder. He can feel the heat of his blush against his neck, and he’s sure Todoroki can feel the rabbit-quick pace of his pulse.
Todoroki’s right hand comes to rest over Hanta’s heart. For a single moment, it feels as if it’s going to beat right out of his chest to get to him.