Chapter 3

When he’s back in his dorm room, Shouto ponders just what a sleepover with Midoriya entails. Of course, he’s not so oblivious as to not know the basics of a sleepover, but he’s sure there are nuances that escape him.

He could just not worry about it. He should just not worry about it. Friends—they hang out together, and it’s not weird. Then again, to the best of Shouto’s knowledge, people don’t usually feel like their ability to breathe halts for a moment when a friend smiles at them.

Yes, this is something different. This has been something different since it first began, Midoriya’s mouth pulled into a nervous line as Shouto issued a declaration of war, Midoriya battering himself just so Shouto could understand, Midoriya listening and caring and doing all the things that Shouto’s father had never, ever bothered to do.

Shouto’s never had a friend before Midoriya, but still, since he has many friends now, he can tell that this—with Midoriya—is different than what friendship is supposed to be. He keeps this to himself.

He keeps this to himself because if he tells even one person, that’s just another way that his father could find out about it. Endeavor’s never been one for feelings. Shouto doubts—no, he knows that Endeavor wouldn’t even try to wrap his mind around the soft feelings that whirl around Shouto’s chest and clamor in his stomach before he would attempt to stomp them out.

Unnecessary, he would spit, fiery and cruel. We’d better take care of that.

Suddenly, Shouto’s gut twists with something unpleasant. He pushes the thoughts of his father away, away, away—these vines in his chest are his and only his to deal with; Endeavor doesn’t get to taint them or burn them or clip them away.

And as for now, the vines will remain, nourished further every time Midoriya laughs.

—

“I’m sorry for all the—” Midoriya scratches at the back of his neck, a hint of a flush spreading over his cheeks as he gestures with his free hand to all the All Might memorabilia. “I almost asked if you’d want to have it in your room, but I didn’t want to impose…”

“I don’t mind,” Shouto responds. He’s already seen Midoriya’s room, so the decor isn’t a surprise.

Midoriya releases some of the tension he’d held in his shoulders. “Okay, good. So,” he flops backwards onto his bed, his hair splaying against the blanket and arms outstretched on either side of him. “What do you want to do?”

“Aren’t you in charge?” Shouto inquires, sitting carefully on the very edge of Midoriya’s bed. “Since I’ve never had a sleepover before.”

Midoriya peers up at Shouto. “I haven’t either,” he states.

Shouto head whips back to look at him. “You haven’t?”

“I mean, not since I was really little, or like staying somewhere with the class—but you’ve been there, too.” Midoriya’s hands fidget together on his stomach. “I’ve never had a—a real one.”

“Oh,” Shouto says. “So, neither of us…”

Midoriya lets out a bit of a chuckle, and then sits up. “Should we ask someone?”

“If you want to. I mean, I know people usually… watch movies.” Shouto scratches at his cheek.

“Hmm,” Midoriya hums. “I’ll text Uraraka-san. Do you have a movie you want to watch?”

Shouto shakes his head.

It’s a few moments before Midoriya gets a reply from Uraraka, but as soon as he does, he begins to paraphrase it aloud: “She says that she watches movies—like you said—and… plays games, like board games? And she says when it gets later, they usually—oh…”

Curious, Shouto stares at Midoriya and tilts his head.

Midoriya looks back at him sheepishly before he explains, “She says that they talk about crushes and stuff. But maybe that’s—we don’t have to do that.”

Shouto decides not to respond, instead looks down at his hands in his lap.

“So, a movie!” Midoriya suddenly exclaims, flinging his phone down beside him and instead reaching for his laptop, which sits on the stand behind his bed. Shouto watches as Midoriya opens the laptop, scooting backwards on his bed until his back presses against his pillows and setting the computer on his lap. He looks over at Shouto over the top of the laptop, and he pats the bed beside him. “Come here. Are you sure there’s nothing you wanna watch?”

Shouto only hesitates for a moment before he nods and crawls over Midoriya’s legs, pushing himself up between Midoriya and the wall beside his bed. Midoriya’s bed isn’t very large, and their arms are only a slight shift away from touching. Shouto tries not to dwell on it.

Midoriya has a difficult time deciding on a movie; he mutters to himself about the options on the screen while Shouto sits patiently by and listens. He doesn’t mind just listening for the rest of the night.

But Midoriya eventually does settle on something Shouto’s never heard of, though he can agree that it sounds interesting enough.

“I’ve never seen this,” Midoriya says as the buffering symbol spins on the otherwise black screen. “So, don’t get mad at me if it’s awful. Kirishima-kun said it was good, so…” he trails, and then jumps onto a different track, “Just let me know if you don’t like it, and we can try something else, okay?”

Shouto pulls the inside of his cheek between his teeth to suppress the urge to smile at Midoriya’s concern. He’s cute.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I’m sure it will be good.”

Midoriya opens his mouth to respond when the movie loads, drawing his attention away. He turns the laptop on his lap so it faces more towards Shouto, and then he crosses his arms together over his chest.

Shouto shifts slightly to get more comfortable, and in doing so, their shoulder’s nudge. He bites back an apology when he realizes Midoriya didn’t even notice—or didn’t react—and has given his full attention to the opening scene of the movie. Swallowing thickly, Shouto carefully leans back over until their shoulders press together, and then he follows Midoriya’s lead and turns his concentration to the movie.