BNHA, Connect the Dots

Title: Connect the Dots [Midoriya/Todoroki]
Rating/Warnings: R
Summary: Todoroki is really into Midoriya’s freckles.
AN: Written for shiritori.

Connect the Dots

When Midoriya stripped his T-shirt off, Todoroki’s breath caught, eyes glued to Midoriya’s skin. The freckles were everywhere, thick over his shoulders and forearms, fainter across his collarbones, scattered more sparsely down his throat and chest and belly as if daring Todoroki to put his mouth on all of those places individually.

“Hey. You’ve seen them before,” he protested mildly, squirming under Todoroki’s stare. He was starting to blush, the pink spreading across his nose, lighting up the freckles on his cheeks from underneath.

“Not like this,” Todoroki murmured. Changing in the locker room was one thing; Midoriya stripping off his clothes just for Todoroki in the privacy of his room something else entirely. A minute ago, Todoroki had been about to reach for the light, but now he wanted to see everything, all of Midoriya’s skin. “Take the rest off.”

“You first!” Midoriya crossed his arms in front of his chest, as if that would preserve his modesty somehow. “Why am I the only one getting naked!”

“Because you’re cuter,” Todoroki answered, not to tease, just because he thought it was true. He crawled forward, into Midoriya’s space, the headboard of Midoriya’s bed stopping him from edging backwards. The skin of Midoriya’s shoulder was so warm when Todoroki pressed his mouth against it. The heat and salt of his skin was irresistible to Todoroki; he lifted his mouth from the first spot just to kiss the patch of freckles next to it, and the one beside that, and the one beside that, just where Midoriya’s shoulders swept into his neck.

“Ohh,” Midoriya said, voice hushed. He tilted his head to the side, lengthening the line of his neck, and Todoroki obligingly dragged more kisses up it, then back down to linger in the hollow of Midoriya’s throat, feeling Midoriya’s pulse skip against his lips.

Todoroki paused when fingers skimmed his cheekbone, the edge of his scar, and up into his hair.

“I’m not cuter,” Midoriya protested, adorably late. Rather than argue, Todoroki turned his head to nip at the base of Midoriya’s thumb, then nose at his palm. A flicker of his tongue made Midoriya stifle a giggle. “That tickles!”

Todoroki ignored him, thinking about how much he loved Midoriya’s hands. They were so strong, big enough to show that Midoriya’s got another good growth spurt looming at the very least, rough with calluses and scars. Todoroki rubbed his cheek against the back of Midoriya’s hand, humming satisfaction at that roughness against his skin, eyes fluttering half closed.

“You’re being weird,” Midoriya murmured, not sounding opposed, just curious. “Are you ok?”

“Uh-huh,” Todoroki answered on autopilot, but then paused, thinking about Midoriya’s hands on skin, about Midoriya gripping his shoulders, his waist. “I feel clingy, I guess.”

Midoriya pushed forward, against Todoroki, and then kept pushing, slowly but firmly, until Todoroki was being pushed backwards. He ended up on his back, Midoriya pinning him there by the shoulders, leaning over him with a heated smirk. Todoroki shivered from the show of strength and the heat crackling in Midoriya’s eyes, as if he’d used just the barest hint of his quirk to do that. “Good?”

“Good,” Todoroki confirmed. He liked being held under Midoriya like this, the surprising heaviness of Midoriya’s compact frame pushing him down, liked the feeling of security. With Midoriya grinning down at Todoroki, the flush of his cheeks starting to spread down across his shoulders, it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

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