Bullet | Suicidal Todoroki x Midoriya

4 | Vacuity

This story is not intended to promote or encourage actions/behaviors such as suicide, self-harm, abuse, violence, or substance abuse.

Izuku Todoroki

Insinuated into a cozy cavern of comfort, Izuku was nestled in Shoto's lap and hugged by both his lover's arms and the blanket ensconcing them both. The two had been watching a show involving two brothers—one of which was quite literally the son of Satan himself—demons, exorcists, and a plethora of exhilarating cutscenes, but Izuku's attention was enthralled by his partner. They'd only kissed once before, and truth be told, the kiss was inadvertent but serendipitous.

Izuku lifted his head from resting the side of his head against Shoto's temple. "Hey, Shoto?" His gaze was arrested by Shoto's heterochromatic eyes as the latter turned his head. "Um. I was wondering if I could..." Silence ensued for a split second before Izuku pressed their lips together.

Like warm fondue bathed in a fervent film of serenity, their lips sank into one. Shoto's reciprocated kiss was gentle, tender, and unhurried; his lips explored adagio with doting movements like silk. Eager yet trepidatious, Izuku nudged himself around on Shoto's lap to curl his legs around the latter's hips. Izuku laid his weight down against his lover while pushing Shoto's right hand into the back cushion of the couch. Warm, intermittent jets of delayed and hastened breaths clung to their noses and cheeks as Shoto surrendered and relaxed into the profound affection and reassuring weight of Izuku.

As the shorter of the two held fast his lover, the tramps of knocking parted their sticky lips of a creamy peach. Izuku released a sigh and headed to the front door, but no one was visible from the windows. He cracked open the door to reveal the downpour streaking through the air, but there was no one. Perplexed, he poked his nose further out the door, but as another round of knocking arrived, the world evanesced into a pool of ink that was swiftly split open by a blinding, rapidly expanding thread of light.

Izuku opened his eyes from his memory of his husband. Dull pats of the rain laughed beyond the walls of the house. Sitting upright on the couch, Izuku flicked off the television from watching the show he'd once watched the entirety of with Shoto.

Yet, another set of knocks arrived at the door. Izuku bit his lower lip and shuffled towards the leftmost window adjacent to the door. He canted his head to espy the figure standing on his porch, and mantled in the shadows of the night was none other than Shoto. After a year and a half, Shoto had returned home.

With quivering fingers from anxious desperation, Izuku unlocked the door and slammed it open to see his husband for the first time in over one year. The wind slashed through Shoto's dripping hair. Bullets of rain struck the water-saturated uniform Shoto wore. Shoto trembled from the bleak weather, but his countenance was like a rough boulder.

Tears rained from Izuku's magnified eyes as he hesitantly coiled his arms around his husband's frigid, rain-soaked body. "Shoto..." he gasped in a whisper while the deluge of jagged, jubilant emotions swishing through his chest began to pulsate. "O-Oh my God..." He squeezed Shoto a bit tighter to affirm that his husband truly was standing before him, but Shoto released a grunt of pain.

Izuku retracted his arms and stumbled back inside the house to allow Shoto inside, but as the taller of the two waded through the darkness, the saffron light spilling onto his dripping body revealed his empty eyes, his vacant yet austere expression, his facial scars, and his missing finger.

Once again, a familiar awkwardness pervaded the room, so Izuku stuttered, "W-Want me to bring you...um, some fresh clothes so you can shower?" He received a small nod. "Okay. I'll...be right back." He scrambled up the stairs for their room as elastic guilt and fear stretched through his stomach.