I wish every time I open my eyes every morning that I stay in this pocket paradise.
And feel this warmth.
A sense of––
Family.
––
As the night drew to a close, Izuku stepped out of the steamy bathroom, fresh from his shower and wrapped in a soft white bathrobe. He opened the door, expecting the room to be empty, since Tomura usually worked until 2 or 3 in the morning.
To Izuku's surprise, Tomura was sprawled comfortably across the bed, looking every bit like a lazy king in his pajama pants and a casually buttoned shirt.
Izuku hesitated in the doorway, the rising steam curling around his ankles as he stood transfixed. His eyes lingered on Tomura, drinking in every detail: the sharp, angular lines of Tomura's face had softened in repose, giving him an almost ethereal beauty bathed in the muted glow of the bedside lamp. Izuku's gaze wandered lower, tracing the elegant arch of Tomura's neck, pale and slender, before drifting over the slightly open collar of his shirt. The dim light played across Tomura's chest, the prominent cut of his lean muscle beneath the fabric, until finally falling to where pajama pants rode low on his hips, exposing a sliver of toned abdomen against unblemished, porcelain skin.
The weight of Izuku's attention was tangible, a heated, unspoken electricity that made the air between them thrum. Tomura's eyes flicked up, caught in the intensity of emerald green irises brimming with longing and hesitation. Their gazes locked, wordlessly communicating secrets too heavy for speech.
Suddenly, overcome by the rawness of the moment, Izuku flushed deep red. He hastily buried his face in his hands, as if that simple act could conceal the desire burning in his eyes.
—
Izuku POV
My heart was beating so fast. I need to calm down. I jumped as he took my hands off my face. His eyes were heavy with something I couldn't name. His eyes flickered to my eyes, then my lips, then back to my eyes.
His hands slowly grasp my hips.
"Don't tempt me, Izuku," I shivered.
"I-I didn't do anything!" I yelped.
He stared at me for a long while before pulling away.
"Get dressed."
I rushed to the dresser, took off my robe, and put on the closest pajamas. I heard the bathroom door click.
'Did I do something wrong?'
'I don't know, but I felt I was going to be eaten alive.'
I sighed, shaking off whatever nerves I had. Heading to bed. I got under the covers, waiting for Tomura to come back.
It may have been like 10 to 15 minutes before he heard the toilet flush, then the faucet turn on, then off.
The door clicked open, and my alpha walked out. He got to the bed. His scent was stronger than before. I wanted to know why. I smiled, getting closer to reach out for him, but he clasped my hand, gently guiding it back towards my lap.
He didn't climb back into bed. Instead, he stood at the mattress's edge, looming over me, the space between us alive with tension.
"What happened with your mom?" he asked, voice cool and direct, the words slicing the air. He changed the topic so abruptly that it startled me.
"U-Uh..I'm sure you know." I said, averting my eyes.
I was already expecting his anger, I mean, marrying me off while he was alive and kickin'. She was only begging for his wrath, and I wasn't going to be the substitute.
"Marriage..." he scoffed.
"Pretty much, all the candidates were stinky old rich men, though. I still can't believe her." I rolled my eyes just thinking about it gets my blood boiling.
"Let's just stop talking about it, okay," I said.
"I'd rather talk about—"
My lips curled into a teasing smile as I edged closer, intent on distracting him.
"—my heat."
For a heartbeat, he only stared, his intense gaze boring into me. I could almost see the shift in his eyes, storm clouds gathering, something primal awakening. I shivered as he leaned in, his breath ghosting across my lips, my body thrumming with anticipation. I closed my eyes, ready.
The charged silence stretched. Nothing happened, but his proximity was electric. I could nearly taste him, his scent now flooding my senses, setting my skin aflame, like his hands already roamed along my body. The ache for more grew unbearable, so I dared to open my eyes.
Before I could fully see, he covered them with his hand, firm, gentle, possessive.
"Tom—"
"Don't speak." Tomura's voice was rough, almost pained, vibrating with restraint.
'Was he hurt?'
'Was he Overworked?'
My thoughts raced, worried.
I gasped as his lips brushed my neck, a slow, deliberate drag along my scent gland. He peppered it with feather-light kisses, each touch searing hot, stirring a heat inside me. A strong arm wrapped around me, pulling me to the bed's edge.
Then he paused, lips at the edge of my scent gland, before suddenly biting down. It shocked me, robbing me of strength, melting every last ounce of resistance.
A startled whimper escaped before I could stop it. I clung to him, mind whirling, surrendering to his unusual, urgent tenderness.
"Tomu—" His hand glided from my eyes to cover my lips, silencing me.
My eyes fluttered shut as his bite deepened, not painful, but agonizingly sweet, sending a tingling jolt down my spine, igniting something unnamed inside me.
––
Don't ask me why that happened. Honestly, I'm just as bewildered as you are. Never mind, the matter we are moving on.
. . .
Tomura had stepped out for a while; something work-related kept him away, and when he left, he took that relentless whirlwind called Toga with him. The headquarters felt like a ghost town in their absence. Only Kurogiri remained, and after 4 intense rounds of chess, each game a mental battlefield, I sensed he'd rather tend to his own thoughts than humor me any further.
Boredom pressed down on me, heavy and unyielding, until a sudden idea flickered to life in my mind like a lone light bulb in a darkened room.
I still need to reach out to All Might.
I was almost certain I'd preserved his number, hidden away in my contacts as if safeguarding a secret. Ever since chaos ripped through our lives, he'd vanished, leaving only silence in his wake. With every unanswered message, the feeling grew: maybe he was purposefully keeping his distance now that he knew the truth about his chosen successor.
My heart thumped erratically as I scrolled, fingers trembling, until I spotted 'ALL MIGHT ✊' illuminating my screen. The flood of feelings that washed over me was overwhelming dread and yearning pulling me in equal measure. Anxiety twisted sharply in my gut. Was he disgusted by me now? Would he meet my message with scorn, or worse, outright hostility? If that's what I deserve, so be it, but the anticipation burned all the same.
I steeled myself and typed, 'All Might, sir, this is Midoriya. I wish to speak with you; give me a text back whenever you're free.' I hesitated before hitting send.
'Was that too stiff?'
'Too desperate?'
Still, I hoped it was enough to reach him, to remind him of our connection.
Minutes dragged into hours, but no reply came. Not even a single indicator that he'd seen the message. The emptiness stretched, and a bleak thought settled over me: he really was avoiding me, or maybe, something worse had happened. I silently wished for the former, even as uncertainty gnawed at my resolve.