Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Y’know, I don’t see why you’re not putting yourself out there more. You’re doing a lot better, and all the babies you’ve got now adore you!”

Enji frowned at the voice in his ear as he picked up a pack of chicken and stared at it. High in protein, low in fat, relatively alright cost… He dropped it into his shopping basket before he was moving down the frozen aisle. Really, he should have gone to the local butcher shop, but he didn’t have time for that this week.

In the supermarket, there were always mothers with their children, older shoppers, and even some high school kids possibly making their own meals. Enji rarely ever paid much attention to other people, seeing as his schedule was so tight. Most of his days were filled with meetings and calls, and when he wasn’t as busy, he was going down to his department to double check documents and make sure the company was going to be good for the next audit. After coaching, speaking with his secretary a million times a day, and moving around meeting times between customers, it would be close to 7 P.M., late enough for him to be at home making dinner. Fuyumi, bless her soul, typically only asked him to pick up ingredients rather than make the meals themselves. She set aside time out of her own days to cook for her, her father, and Shouto. Natsuo and Touya, naturally, were living with their mother.

He wished he hadn’t thought of the word ‘naturally’ so quickly.

“Nemuri, I’m not so sure about that. There are a few people I’m just recently growing comfortable enough with to share more than just dinner with. Between the handful of them, time gets a little constrained.”

He could practically hear Nemuri rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. So he was a little old-fashioned? Sue him! Enji was trying to get back into the dating game after being out of it for so long that he didn’t want to misstep and set himself back to square one. His relationship with his ex-wife had gone about as well as imagined, and when his two eldest sons proclaimed they’d be moving into the house that Enji was required (loosely, since he would have gotten her a mansion if she asked for it - Rei deserved at least that much) to buy for her, Enji hadn’t even fought against their decision. He knew it was for the best, what with all of the tension from his various questionable choices as a husband and father over the last nearly three decades.

It had taken him a while to get back on his feet, sure. And right now, he was seeing a few people on rotation, all under contract to not utter a word about their perceived relationship to Enji or his empire. It was a good move, one that Nemuri had brought up when they initially met on a dating site. Granted, he’d thought she was gorgeous, but they both found that between their pasts and personalities, it was likely best that they be friends rather than something more.

She’d shown him the side to dating that he had absolutely no idea existed. Sugar babies, specifically, though they weren’t her typical way of forming potential relationships with her clients. Enji had money, enough that he paid so much in alimony that Rei wouldn’t ever have to work for the rest of her life. While it was court mandated that he pay, Enji hadn’t liked the number that Rei’s divorce attorney low-balled her with and asked that it be nearly doubled.

Needless to say, Todoroki Enji’s finances were just fine. Enough so that he could afford to share his wealth with a few more people other than just his children and ex-wife.

“Yeah, Enji, I get that, but you gotta make time for this kinda stuff! If you wanna get to know these people, then the ones with good intentions won’t just come to you most of the time! You don’t wanna just date around for the rest of your life, do you? You’re the type of guy that wants to come home to somebody consistently. You like the dates, but you’re not the dating type. You and your ex didn’t even date before getting married, remember? It was an—”

Enji sucked in a breath, reaching for three packs of Shouto’s favorite instant soba noodles. He didn’t need to be reminded that he and his wife were matched as part of a miai, an arranged wedding. Enji’s parents had seen that he was ‘destined for greatness’ and wanted to give him the best shot at starting a family early on while his career was still a budding plant. While he was thankful for that, Rei, and their four children, he didn’t appreciate all the pressure and expectations they’d put on him. If he got the chance to redo his twenties, he was sure he wouldn’t be getting married and having kids at the beginning of them again.

“Okay, sorry,” Nemuri deflated. She meant well, but sometimes she could get caught up in her tangents and lose the plot of what she really needed to tell him.

“What I mean is that if you don’t get to know these people, you’re setting yourself up for a revolving door of SB’s coming in and out of your life for your money or sticking around without any real emotional connection, or you could end up in a relationship with one of them that you think you know until you really don’t. What’s gonna happen if you marry some new person and your kids hate them because they’re only there for the money? Or worse, they don’t even wanna deal with your kids? Not saying they’re children now, I mean the oldest is like, almost my age. Which is… scary to think about. But! The point is that I think you need to get your ass out there and make a real meaningful time out of getting to know someone you actually like!”

A part of Enji knew that she was right. Nemuri had never steered him wrong in the two years that they’d known each other. She’d reintroduced him to dating, gotten him somewhat back into physical intimacy—hell, she’d even taken the time to listen to him rant about work, which people never did. He always got too intense, and the only person that would stick around was his therapist because she was paid to be there! Nemuri had sparked Enji’s desire to get to know other people again, which was great!

“So when am I going to find all this ‘time’ that you keep referencing, Nem? I’m sorry, but my job is only getting busier, and these people don’t really want to hear me talk about work. I can function in a suit and tie at fancy dinners, but I just feel like I’m meeting a client for lunch rather than getting to know somebody that I’m supposed to want to be romantically involved with.”

There was a beep on the other end of the call, and Enji checked his watch. Nemuri had just finished her half-hour on the stair master, and now she was going to lift weights. Luckily, her at-home gym made it so they could talk while she worked out, but the fact that she could go that long without even sounding winded always shocked him.

“Then take ‘em somewhere else! Don’t do ‘fancy’, pick something you’re comfortable with! I ever tell you about the time I made an ass of myself because I picked a restaurant I didn’t know had a dress code, and I didn’t send it to my client? That lady showed up in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, and I was in an evening gown! I had to pivot to somewhere we could go with my short-sighted thinking, and I took her to a sukiyaki shop two streets over. We were there until the place closed, and now she’s my longest-standing client! You’ve got to make space for yourself, otherwise you’ll end up falling face-first into lackluster relationships. And we both know that you’re better than that, Enji. You just have to wake up and tell yourself that before you can actually start believing it.”

Enji was silent as he continued to shop, listening to Nemuri’s points as she continued to talk. To him, it was like he was being coached by a senior at work. He needed someone who wouldn’t sugarcoat their points and talk to him out-right. Otherwise, he wasn’t going to learn anything.

By the time he’d gotten the small mound of bags in the car and gotten home, a bigger part of Enji was agreeing with Nemuri. He didn’t want to keep dating around, not because he couldn’t, but because he liked consistency. Every single first date inevitably edged on a ‘wow, you’re boring, huh?’ comment due to his lack of variety in his days. He was pushing fifty-five and working like his life depended on it—what time did he have to dawdle?

“And that’s the thing, En. You’re great at being organized and doing everything you got to so you get your job done. But these relationships aren’t like your job. If you treat them like it, like you’re trying to get to the next promotion or wanna make more money, things are gonna fall apart. Getting to know a person is like going out to a new hiking spot. You were so upset when I picked a trail that was farther away from your job and in the mountains, but by the end of it, you loved it. You woke up and saw the sunrise, drank coffee on the porch, didn’t even think about looking at your work phone. You’ve gotta find somebody that makes you feel the way that trip did. And don’t say you can’t because I know you can.”

As Enji sat in the car, he couldn’t find it in himself to say no. Nemuri cared, and by proxy, he wanted to make her proud in this odd, mentor-mentee way. He could find time, he just had to be careful about it.

“Okay. Fine, I’ll make time,” Enji concluded. “But I hope you understand I’ll be asking you for help every step of the way.”

Nemuri’s smile was audible on the other end. Did she ever really expect anything less?

“That’s just fine, big guy. My phone’s always on for you. Now get in that house before your daughter panics about dinner—I heard that car shut off!”

Enji’s laugh was deep, genuine. They said their actual goodbyes, allowing him to check his notifications before getting out. He has a few too many messages, most from sugar babies he’s been on dates with and meets semi-regularly, like Keigo and Rumi, and a few new ones that he’s gotten a bit of cold feet on responding to. Enji got out and gathered his suit jacket and the grocery bags to take inside, swearing to himself he’d answer the messages later. Fuyumi had asked for a bunch of instant noodle packs, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. He fumbled with his keys before finally getting the back door open.

At first, Enji thought that no one’s home from how quiet it was. Usually, Fuyumi and Shouto weren’t the rowdy type, but he could at least hear them moving around the house. The house could be empty, or they could just be busy. Enji set the bags on the counter and went about emptying his pockets before he heard his daughter’s voice in the other room.

“—but I guess I get why you’d see it that way, if the professor’s been teaching it like that…”

She was helping Shouto with school then. Enji could always count on his daughter to be responsible beyond her years, though it pained him to think it. He was starting to put the groceries up, setting out the chicken and noodles first, when he heard another, very unfamiliar voice.

“That’s what I thought! It makes sense, but every time I try to look up these theories, the points don’t line up one-to-one. I thought it might be because we were learning from a new set of curricula, but these theories have been around for a while.”

Enji’s interest was piqued the moment he heard a newcomer in their home. It was only every blue moon that Fuyumi brought over a colleague or friend, and even then it was just for dinner or to hang out. Shouto, on the other hand, never brought friends over. He talked about them often, though it was mostly to Fuyumi rather than to Enji. Their relationship was… strained, at best. Enji was trying, and he could tell that it was difficult on his youngest’s part with how much he had to worry about with school and work (which he didn’t have to do, but he’d insisted on working to ‘have his own money’). The person he talked about the most was a boy named ‘Izuku’, though Enji hadn’t ever seen the boy before.

That was, until today.

The first thing Enji saw when he poked his head into the living room was a mop of forest green curls right next to Fuyumi as she went to sit. They bounced as the boy – young man, technically, since he was Shouto’s age, and Shouto was turning 20 next year – listened to Fuyumi and nodded along to what she was saying. As she pointed to the page, emerald doe eyes followed her finger attentively. When he tilted his head up to look at her, it was easy to see the freckles all across his face as the light hit them. Round cheeks, a button nose, mile-long green lashes, and a full-lipped, perfect smile when Fuyumi said she’d look into it a little more. Even his laugh was like bells, soft peals of mirth that floated to Enji from the end of the dining table.

Enji stood there in the archway to the dining room for longer than he should have. He was staring longer than he should have been. Before anyone could notice him, he ducked back into the kitchen and stood amongst the stainless-steel appliances and perfect, white tile in an attempt to gather himself. His heart was thundering hard in his chest, and his mouth had turned into a desert with how dry it was. Why— what was happening to him? Why had he just stared at this boy— young man— like he’d never seen another human being before? Gripping the countertop with shaking hands, Enji leaned back against it and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to ground himself. The lights were too bright, the counters too cold, even the sound of Fuyumi walking into the kitchen was so loud –

“Dad? Is everything alright?”

Oh, gods. Did he look like a mess? He was probably pale, and his fiery hair only made the lack of color stand out more. He raked a hand through his hair, sighing softly.

Lie. He needed to lie.

“Just a long day at work, but everything’s fine,” he fibbed too smoothly. Fuyumi tilted her head in that characteristic ‘was it bad enough that you need to talk about it now?’ way, and Enji shook his head. Her smile reappeared then, and her eyes traveled to the plastic bags that had been put away in the net they kept near the garbage can and then the noodles and chicken he sat out on the counter.

“You came back just in time, I was about to start dinner! Want to help me? Shouto has his friend over for the weekend, so I’ll be making four portions for the next few days instead of three.”

Fuyumi was already reaching for her apron, and Enji felt his heart sinking. The entire weekend? Something in him said this was bad, very bad and that he should get that changed as soon as possible. But, when he thought about it for a moment longer, Enji realized that Shouto had long told them about him bringing his friend over. Enji had just forgotten, it seemed.

He never could have known that Shouto’s friend would be so cute.

The very intrusive thought had Enji straightening like a board and giving a robotic ‘sure’ in response to his daughter’s question. He excused himself to change into something more comfortable right before he realized that he’d have to pass by the dining room to get to the hallway and to his own room. Without Fuyumi as a distraction, the two of them would be able to look up and see him just fine, though it wasn’t like it would make a difference for Shouto.

It wasn’t that bad. It would be fine. Enji kept telling himself that as he went to walk by the archway. Perhaps it was his heavy footfalls on the wooden floors, or maybe it was even his shadow casted in the dining room as he fully passed by the door. All he knew was that there were green eyes darting up to him the moment that he was being greeted by that voice that had taken him off guard.

“Oh—Todoroki-san, it’s nice to finally meet you! My name is Midoriya Izuku! I thought I should formally introduce myself, seeing as I’ll be staying at your home for the next few days. I bought some souvenirs from my mother’s last business trip as a gift!”

Help him, Enji was going to explode.

He was stock still, staring down at the man that had scrambled to his feet to bow in greeting. He was so small, shorter than Shouto. Even in his jeans and loose-fitting tee, Enji could see that Izuku wasn’t all bone. Honestly, he looked soft. Plush, his mind readily supplied, and Enji had a strong urge to fill his head with laundry detergent before putting it on a hot cycle.

He muttered something about ‘yes of course, nicetomeetyoutoo’ before he was taking long strides down the hallway. What had gotten into him? He was running away from a child! The pounding in his chest and dryness in his mouth told him this was what he needed to do.

The moment he got to his room, Enji eased the door shut and closed his eyes. He thought about calling Nemuri in his panic, but he was a grown man! He could deal with his emotions on his own! At least, he needed to try.

He just never thought that those emotions he thought he’d never feel would be directed towards his youngest son’s best friend.

Chapter Text

Enji got through dinner by the grace of whatever gods were watching over him. Most of it had been Shouto and Izuku recounting how their weeks had gone and what assignments they had due in the near future. Fuyumi added whatever she could when she thought to, and Enji was mostly quiet, save for the odd interjection.

He wasn’t even paying attention to the food anyway.

Izuku was a bit of an anomaly for Enji. He was quiet when he wanted to be and louder at others, getting excited about one topic or another. It was easy to see what interested him by what he talked about the most. Funnily enough, those things seemed to be any type of science—specifically human anatomy. He could go on and on about different muscle groups, how they interacted with others, and just how they tended to if they were injured. Psychology was a favorite of his as well, along with molecular biology. His interest was all over the place, but it made him and Shouto talking about class all that much more intriguing to Enji.

Whenever Izuku laughed or smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners and nose scrunched just enough to be noticable. His eyes, bright like two flawless emeralds, followed the conversation to whoever happened to be speaking. He was respectful, never speaking over others and waiting until they were done to continue the conversation. He even complimented both Fuyumi and Enji on dinner when they were done, offering to wash the dishes as well.

“You’re our guest!” Fuyumi protested. Shouto was already gathering up the tableware piece by piece, carefully stacking it to make his way into the kitchen.

“But it’s the least I can do—the food was so good! My mom tries to teach me to cook, but it doesn’t ever really go over well…”

Cute.

Enji snapped himself from his thoughts by standing. That was not something he should be thinking about his son’s friend. Izuku was less than half his age—a child. Then again, Keigo and Rumi weren’t very far from Izuku’s age. That was a fact that Enji tried to push from his mind as he followed Shouto into the kitchen.

“See? Dad’s going to help Shouto, so it’s all okay!” Fuyumi reasoned. Bless her, she couldn’t have known what was going through her father’s mind at the time. He wasn’t washing dishes to be nice; he needed to get out of the room before he said something he’d regret.

Shouto glanced over his shoulder as his father entered the room, making an intrigued little grunt. They fell into place next to one another, just as he’d done with Fuyumi, though Shouto didn’t try to make small talk in the meantime. He was here to get the chore done, and Enji could appreciate that. As one dish was cleaned, Enji was drying and placing another one in the cupboard. He’d been looking down at the red and white bowl that Izuku had been given for his rice as his thoughts started to wander again.

Was Izuku that nice all the time? His smile was soft, almost angelic in the way that it comforted Enji and made him feel that everything was going to be fine. His cheeks were round and had so many freckles, the lightest dusting as though he’d been kissed all over by a god. Enji had thought his little nose scrunch was so cute he could kiss it.

Enji was lost in thought when he extended a hand for another dish. He couldn’t have known that they were done with how he was daydreaming. Shouto turned to him, brow quirked in curiosity.

“Dad? We finished the dishes,” he informed his father. Enji was brought back to reality and turned to check the cupboard…

Well. He was right. As Enji went to hang the dishtowel he’d been using, Fuyumi appeared in the doorway, positively beaming.

“Did either of you want dessert? Izuku said he brought a fluffy cheesecake from the bakery down the street, and I really wanna try it!”

Shouto shook his head, typically not the type for sweets so soon before he was supposed to sleep. Fuyumi’s smile fell just enough for Enji to notice.

“Sure. I'll get some plates,” Enji offered. That brought his daughter’s smile right back to its familiar brilliance, causing Enji’s lips to quirk at the corners as well. Fuyumi was sweet, and though she never asked for much, the small things she did want meant a lot to her. Like sharing a slice of cake with her family.

Enji opted for a few smaller saucers and forks, which would be easy to clean when he got to it. Plus, it was just the three of them eating anything. He fished their rarely-used cake slicing knife from the drawer and walked out into the dining room where Izuku was awaiting their return.

Perhaps it was just Enji’s mind playing tricks on him, but Izuku had seemed a little lost in thought as he scrolled on his phone. There hadn't been any rules against technology at the table since Natsuo and Touya made it clear that they'd do as they pleased when it came to their attention. When Izuku noticed that Enji had entered the room, he slowly put his phone away, smiling full-on at the older man.

“Thank you so much for letting Shouto invite me to your home, Todoroki-san!”

The last thing Enji expected was to be personally thanked for letting someone come over. Shouto wasn’t exactly proud of how their family had turned out, and it was for good reason.

Before he and Rei had gotten divorced, Enji was obsessed with working, with having the top firm and being the best consultant. When Rei was pregnant with Touya, Enji took time off to be with her, and the same was true when they had Fuyumi. However, when they conceived Natsuo, Enji was far too busy to take as much time off as he had before.

Sure, his parents came to help since Rei was never much attached to her own. They had visitors every now and again, but taking care of two children and being pregnant with a third was exhausting. Rei barely had the energy to make sure she and her children were safe and well-fed, let alone to take them on outings or play with them. Their grandparents did most of that, but when Enji’s parents approached him about altering his work schedule to make more time for his wife and children, the family he was working to support, Enji had mistakenly lashed out at them.

He’d kept using the defense that he’d been stressed, but he knew as well as they did that his presumed frustration with the situation at home came from elsewhere. He wasn’t doing as well as he thought he was, and other consultants were getting well ahead of him. Some didn’t even work as many hours as he did, so Enji didn’t understand why they were doing better than he was!

The initial argument snowballed over the next seven years, going from comments made in moments of quiet to shouting matches that Rei knew she couldn’t win. Enji was already ashamed that he’d plateaued and needed to come up with another strategy, and the constant request to be home more often made him feel like he wasn’t doing enough as a father. He wasn’t, and though he knew that, Enji wasn’t in a place to accept it and work on it. So he fought back against anyone that even hinted at it.

In the years after Shouto was born, Rei had taken enough. Enji had worn her mental state down to nothing, leaving just the wound of knowing her family wasn’t whole. It came to a head when Shouto was six and there’d been a kettle left on the stove. Somehow—she never figured out how—their youngest reached up onto the stovetop and pulled it down. She’d been in the living room, staring blankly at the TV when she heard the crash and Shouto’s resulting screech. He was rushed to the hospital where his burn was treated, but what couldn’t be healed was the gaping hole left between Enji and Rei. Enji had rushed to the hospital and was blindsided by his wife. She was hysterical, tears coating her flushed face and words coming so fast he could barely catch them.

Enji knew. He’d been well aware that things weren’t going to be okay forever. What he couldn’t have predicted was that something like this would happen and how it would be the final straw for Rei.

“I’ll have my lawyer send you the divorce papers.”

When Rei left, Touya and Natsuo chose to go with her. They’d never much liked Enji anyway, so he never expected them to stay. Fuyumi, taking pity on their father, chose to stick around and help him around the house. She was only in middle school, but she took on so much responsibility that Enji wouldn’t know what to do without her. She even looked after Shouto, practically stepping in as his mother when Rei left.

In the years after, Enji had been aimless. His anger and frustration were misguided, he was doing well but not well enough at work to keep getting promoted, and he felt a hole in his heart so big that he didn’t know what could fill it. He’d gotten the wise idea to make a dating profile one day, and that was how he met Nemuri.

She was candid, so funny even he genuinely laughed at her jokes, and made him feel human again. After the first few days of them messaging, they met up in person and spent the night together. While they were compatible enough for Enji to say he’d have continued to date her otherwise, their goals weren’t the same. Nemuri didn’t want to play step-mother, and she didn’t have any intention of having children. Her ‘niece’ Eri was enough for her, adopted by her friends Hizashi and Oboro. She was a dominatrix, which didn’t scare Enji, but he enjoyed being dominant in the bedroom more than he did being submissive. Though the one time they shared was great, he understood why she’d proposed that they stay friends.

In the time between then and now, she’d gotten him to sign up for a few more websites. Sugar babies, namely, though none of them were as sweet and kind as one Midoriya Izuku.

Enji smiled. It was soft, genuine in the way that he knew there were many things he could fix just yet. But he certainly was glad that Izuku was around. Shouto deserved a friend that would be kind to him.

“Of course,” Enji responded, “Come over whenever you’d like.”

After dinner, Enji was in bed, reading a book and readying himself for sleep when his personal phone started to vibrate. He glanced over at its spot on the nightstand, curious as to who it could be.

A red feather and the name ‘Keigo’ lit up the screen. Tamaki Keigo, known by his screen name ‘Hawks’, was an up and coming actor that Enji had taken interest in after seeing him on one of the dating sites Nemuri had him apply for. He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, but he had about as many issues as Enji himself did. It was more of an observation that Enji had made rather than a fact he’d heard from Keigo himself. It didn’t help the boy’s case that he practically clung to Enji and called him ‘Daddy’ whenever they were in private. Enji encouraged it, seeing as Keigo seemed to be able to relax a little more when it was just the two of them.

Enji reached for the phone and answered the call as he brought it to his ear. He couldn’t hear anything in the background, so he assumed that Keigo was alone.

“Hello, Keigo,” Enji greeted, eyes still on his book. The biography he’d picked up for this week’s ready was a little dry, but he could get through it while listening to the other man.

“Hey, big guy. You in bed? You sound like you’ve got those reading glasses on and you’re lookin’ down your nose at it.”

Enji glanced at his phone before bringing it back to his ear. Sometimes the boy had an uncanny ability to say things that shocked Enji.

“If I didn’t recall you’d seen me do that before, I’d have thought you were spying on me,” Enji murmured drily, earning a chuckle. “Is there something I can do for you?”

Keigo hummed in response to that. It was easy to tell what he wanted, especially when he knew it wasn’t part of their contract. He often asked to go on dates in the week between his scheduled ones, something that Enji had happen once or twice before. But Keigo was alarmingly consistent. He called every week, usually over the weekend, to make plans for the following Thursday or Friday. It was like clockwork, and Enji and Nemuri had placed well-meant bets on which day he’d choose to call.

“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice,” Keigo reasoned. Enji’s lips quirked at the corners, like he was well aware that wasn’t true, but he always humored Keigo.

“Well, you called at an interesting time for that. Though I suppose I can spare you a few minutes.”

Since Enji had a short while before he was supposed to be asleep to wake up for work, they stayed on the phone and talked. Keigo told him about one of the new actresses on set at a film he’s working on. He was gushing about her, how great she was at acting and how long she’d been doing it. He even went as far as to tell Enji that he thought he’d like her. Then he talked about the outing he’d been on with his friends earlier in the week and sent Enji an endearing picture of all of them at the top of a hiking trail.

Enji found himself relaxing at the sound of Keigo’s voice. He was always so excited to tell Enji about his week, to have someone listen. And while he was alone, Enji had learned to be a very good listener. He asked questions about the things that were brought up, even the mundane ones, and he remembered. It was endearing in the way Enji thought of Izuku’s earnest, attentive nature.

He sighed inwardly at the fact that he was still thinking about Shouto’s friend. It’d go away in a few days, surely. Enji honed back in on what Keigo was saying at that point, not wanting to dwell on being attracted to someone even younger than the man he had on the phone.

“So, that’s been my week. How about yours, whatcha been up to?”

That was a question. Most of Enji’s days went similarly: getting up, getting to work, having lunch, finishing work, running errands, and coming home to relax and eat dinner before bed. He was a man of routine, a fact of life. Enji recounted the boring details, and for some reason, he suddenly decided to leave out that his son had invited his friend over. Keigo was none the wiser, moving right on to what he really wanted to talk about.

“Well, I wanted to know if you were free this Wednesday? Maybe we could make an evening of it?”

At times, Keigo’s more spontaneous nature could make Enji a bit… anxious, for lack of a better term. He was a sweet man, he just couldn’t handle his schedule constantly shifting to make room for outings. He tried his hardest to accommodate, especially when Keigo would be out of town the week or so after. It just didn’t make it any less stressful when Enji had deadlines to meet though, and next week was going to be pretty busy.

“I’m sorry, Keigo, but I don’t believe I can. I’ve got consultations all next week. But I still have time for you the week after.”

Of course, Enji didn’t feel good about turning Keigo down. Their relationship was contractual, so neither of them were obligated to spend more time than what they’d both agreed to once Enji’s lawyer looked over the paperwork. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to treat all of those that wanted to be around him with the utmost care. He really hadn’t forged a connection with any of them yet, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Some of them were also just looking for company, and they all had their own reasons for wanting the money Enji provided for them. Sometimes he just needed his schedule to stay the same.

“Oh, yeah that’s alright! I’ll let you get to bed then, sorry to bother you!”

The pit that opened up in Enji’s stomach was enough to make him feel terribly guilty. They said their goodbyes before they hung up, leaving Enji sitting up in bed without any of the tiredness that he’d felt before.

That night, Enji lay awake for what felt like hours. He should have just taken a moment and drank some tea, maybe even treated himself to a glass of whiskey. Instead, he stared at the ceiling until sleep finally took him much later into the night, replaying that disappointment he kept hearing in Keigo’s voice and knowing that he could have at least been nicer.

Chapter Text

Izuku was a typical college student. At least, that was what he told himself most of the time. He liked spending time with his friends, working on hobbies and projects, and taking interest in very specific things that had always fascinated him since he was a child—normal! It was the main reason why he was so well-adjusted to college, had so many friends, and got along just fine with everyone!

Yeah. Of course.

Truthfully, Izuku felt like a bit of a mess. He’d been trying his hardest to focus on his studies while also working as much as he could with his freelance analytics contracts. It was becoming difficult to balance that with his personal life though, and all of it was weighing on him heavily. Izuku’s mother never complained, always citing that Izuku’s diligence and commitment to getting into a good school made it easier for her to focus on paying the bills at home. He sent her as much money as he could while budgeting for the weeks ahead, and oftentimes, it was just barely enough. Izuku rarely brought up his situation as though it were a problem either, so his friends didn’t exactly know everything that was going on.

Shouto had been one of the few that Izuku confided in. They’d been friends for about two years at that point, which made Izuku feel that Shouto wasn’t going to assume that Izuku was asking for any sort of help. Shouto had listened while Izuku unloaded the brunt of his worries, feeling that he simply wasn’t adequate enough to make up for the hole his father’s absence left behind.

Izuku didn’t expect advice, nor did he expect Shouto to sympathize. However, a little empathy went a long way, especially with Izuku.

“I bet your mom is really proud of you,” was what Shouto had told him immediately after his spiel was finished. Izuku blinked at him with shocked, emerald eyes. Where did that come from?

“I mean to say that she probably knows she raised you well because you’re willing to help. I’m sorry, mostly because I don’t really know what it’s like having to assist anyone financially, but I know it has to be hard on the both of you.”

Izuku didn't know how to respond. He’d known Shouto for two years, and in that time they'd become great friends. He just never had someone reason with him so simply, and it… made him feel a lot better. Like he wasn't really a hamster running endlessly on a wheel and that the choices he made and words he spoke truly meant something.

“Thanks, Shouto. I—hadn't really thought of it that way.”

From then on Izuku felt as though Shouto understood him a little better. At least, it was always easier to tell Shouto that he wasn’t able to pay for expensive meals or buy anything other than what he’d planned for. Shouto was ready and willing with his dad’s credit card at the ready. Izuku always told him he never had to use it, but Shouto was adamant whenever they were all out for food. His father wouldn't notice it anyway, Shouto reasoned.

Izuku couldn’t have known just how true those words were.

When he went to visit the Todoroki estate, Izuku was initially stunned into silence. The place was huge, certainly big enough to house the six that initially lived there along with a few more. Touya and Natsuo, Shouto’s older brothers, didn’t live there, and Shouto only did at home because of how much money it saved for school. Fuyumi, his older sister, seemed to be the only person on good terms with their father. Izuku thought that was peculiar, and he was bracing himself for a not-so-cordial family dinner on Friday evening. To his surprise, it went much better than even most dinners at Katsuki’s house did!

Fuyumi was bubbly, bringing out Shouto’s more talkative side as she asked him about classes and what he’d gotten up to recently. She worked as an elementary school teacher, which meant she likely didn’t often have time to sit down and talk over dinner, much like Shouto and their father. Izuku sat anxiously, waiting for the man to arrive home while Fuyumi helped them with their homework.

They were nearly done when they all heard the back door open. Shouto informed him that was where the garage was, and since their father usually drove to work, he often came home and parked the car before entering the house. Izuku could hear a few bags being set down, then keys being hung up. Fuyumi turned her head then, a soft smile on her face, and Izuku’s gaze went to the archway leading into the kitchen as she went to stand.

The man that filled the doorway was far from what Izuku imagined he’d be. Todoroki Enji was a giant, for lack of a better word. He was so broad that he nearly blocked the doorway too, making him seem like the most formidable of opponents. Izuku’s eyes traveled up thick legs to his torso before finding the eldest Todoroki’s face. Despite the mild surprise in his expression, the look in Enji’s eyes was pure shock as Izuku found that cold cerulean. Izuku didn't want to look away because while the color was the same as one of Shouto’s eyes, there was so little warmth. It was like diving deep into the ocean and plummeting so Izuku felt that chill in his spine.

He forced himself to not stare and instead listened to their father and Fuyumi talk. When Enji was about to leave the room, Izuku rocketed from his seat to introduce himself. After all, it was the right thing to do.

Enji gave a strained smile, like it hurt to look at Izuku, before hurrying off. That was… odd. Thankfully, dinner and the rest of the weekend were generally uneventful. Still, Izuku couldn’t get that visit out of his mind. He’d been practically watching the man every moment he got, and it honestly made him feel a little odd. This was the man that Shouto couldn't get along with?

When they got back to campus that Monday, Izuku was staring at his phone calendar and looking at all the bills he knew were due soon. He'd factored for being behind over the weekend, however things seemed like they were piling up so quickly… Izuku wasn’t sure how he was going to swim his way out of this one with so little water surrounding him. He thought about selling some things, but he didn't have much. Part time jobs that weren't contracts took too long to pay out, and Izuku couldn't overload himself on freelance projects because he'd get nothing done.

Being an SB is where it's at

Izuku had found that post on a forum thread and was initially confused as to what ‘SB’ could have meant. He scrolled down just a little bit and read a few more posts from the same commenter.

A few ppl are asking what SB means and I’m talking about being a sugar baby yall! Having somebody else pay your bills while you spend time with em is really nice when you get used to it.

Izuku’s cheeks flamed. A sugar baby? As in… having sex with someone for money? He didn’t think that he could do that, but he kept reading because he was unsure if he was assuming incorrectly.

Apparently, Izuku was incorrect. The poster openly talked about the types of activities they and their ‘sugar momma’ got up to, and most of them were really just the two of them sharing space and spending time together. The poster said that their favorite part about their relationship was that they could sit and cuddle together while reading. Izuku reread that part, almost like it was too good to be true.

The idea that he could be paid to sit there and maybe get work done? Or maybe even relax for once—that made Izuku a little wistful. Truly, if he could give his mother larger sums of money, then she would be able to relax too, would she not? Maybe she could even use up all that paid time off she had stored up and go on a vacation for once. Izuku knew she had a boyfriend even if the man wasn’t someone his mother ever brought up. She was trying to be respectful of Izuku’s father, but Izuku didn’t exactly see someone who left them when he was a boy as a man to look up to.

All of this was swirling around in his head as he paused, finger hovering over the search bar. Did he really want to look into that? This wasn’t his forte, and he had no plan if he got caught up with someone he didn’t work well with. He felt like he was being desperate until he read the last comment in the thread.

If somebody wants to give you their money, let em! It’s contractual—any good mommy, daddy, or anybody else will make SURE that you’re comfy with everything they ask you to do! They care about your feelings and talk with you about your boundaries! Nobody that respects and cares about you would do anything or make YOU do anything you don’t wanna do or don’t feel comfy with!

That was true… Izuku set boundaries and he held fast to them. He didn’t think that he would be coerced because no money was worth it. But he was seriously considering something like this helping him out, so long as he didn’t rely on it too heavily. He still had his freelance work, and no matter what, Izuku would always be in school thanks to his scholarship. He could just do this on the side. That was a reasonable enough thought that had him searching ‘discreet sugar baby websites’.

That night, Izuku spent more time thumbing through websites than he did working on his homework. There weren’t enough hours in the day for him to go through all of them, but he found a handful that he was willing to sign up for. Two required that he upload images of himself, and he wasn’t about to do that without some other form of verification. The last site asked for some form of verification to ensure he was at least 18, and that wasn’t as unreasonable since he was told it wouldn’t be shared or sold. He downloaded the app and got to verifying his identity.

After taking some time setting up his account, Izuku was perusing the site for a while before he found something similar to the ‘classified’ ads. There were mostly people requesting sugar babies, from what Izuku saw. He was wading through poorly-worded ads until he got to one that caught his eye.

49 y/o daddy, consistent, healthy, and established looking for long-term SB. Prefer to chat over text first, then discuss contract if compatible. If interested, reach out via DM.

Most of the other ads were asking for phone numbers, or even in-person meet-ups first. Izuku worried his lip, wondering what was the worst that could happen. He could get someone really mean, meet them in person, and they make him cry. Or, they could be a serial killer—his mother was always so weary of those on the internet. But Izuku shook it off, figuring those couldn’t be any more true than him meeting someone that he could at least be friends with.

He tapped on the username, TE8080, and was brought to their profile. There were a few prior posts, mostly of food and views from different hotel rooms, maybe? There were no people visible in the images themselves, but Izuku figured that if this guy was high-profile, then he’d be less likely to out himself as a sugar daddy. As Izuku scrolled, the direct message button followed him down the feed.

There wasn’t any time like the present, was there?

Izuku finally sent a message a few moments later. It was simple, linking the ad so it wouldn’t be seen as weird for him to message this person out of the blue.

Hi, sorry to bother you! I’m new to all of this, but I saw your ad on the front page. Would you be interested in messaging and getting to know one another?

Oh, how painfully dull he was! Izuku could have thrown his arms up in dismay after he sent the message, but it was posted now. If anything bad were to happen, come as it may.

Izuku laid awake for a little while longer afterward. He changed the tone for the app to a normal text chime to make it less suspicious, should anyone hear it. When he finally plugged his phone up to charge, Izuku was too tired to think very hard about whether or not he’d get a response the next day.

Even if he got no messages from anyone, he’d be just fine with living his life as he had been.

It was well into the next day when Izuku got a response. He was eating lunch with his friends in the smaller of the two campus cafeterias when the chime came through and drew his attention away from the conversation. There was no message in his text application, so he stared a little dumbly, thinking that perhaps he was wrong in having heard the notification sound.

Then, when he pulled down on the notification tray and saw exactly where the sound had come from, Izuku was nearly the color of a ripe tomato. How in the world was he supposed to guess that the person he’d sent a message to last night would already be responding!?

Hello, and I appreciate your message. I may respond a little slowly due to matters at work or at home, but feel free to message me. I’m mostly active on the weekends that I get to myself. That being said, I see that I’m 30 years your senior. Would you not prefer to get to know someone a little closer to your age?

Izuku eyed the message carefully. Was this some sort of test? He didn’t want to immediately assume that, but it was a little odd to ask that question when it was the first thing in the ad, wasn’t it? 49 didn’t really bother him as much as talking to an absolute stranger did. Izuku cared even less about an age gap so long as they were being polite.

That’s fine! I’m in college, so I might be a little slow to respond, too… I’m not really bothered by a gap, even if it’s 30 years. Maybe that’s weird to say, since I’d probably be more like a kid to you. Some of the most interesting people I’ve met have been a lot older than me!

Oh, gods. He really did sound like a child when he sat and thought about it. His finger hovered over the send button before he heard Ochako right next to him, practically peering over his shoulder.

“Whatcha doin’, Izuku?” she inquired curiously, and Izuku jolted, accidentally pressing the button. He locked his phone in a hurry before shoving the device into his pocket. Of all the things for her to pay attention to!

“Nothing! Sorry, I got distracted, was just looking at some stuff,” he murmured, trailing off and muttering quietly to himself. Ochako eyed him curiously before a grin split her face.

“Alright, if you say so. We were gonna head to the library for a bit. Wanna come?”

After checking the time, Izuku had to decline. It was getting close enough to the start time for his next class, so he figured he should head on over. Once he got his things together and grabbed his dishes, Izuku told the group he’d see them later before hurrying to leave.

All of that was too close for his liking. What if Ochako saw!? There was no way he was getting away with having anything like a sugar daddy, even if it was only someone that he talked to and spent time with. They were just like him—unknowing until told otherwise. Of course, all of his friends were accepting, so they wouldn’t care that the person Izuku supposedly chose was a guy. The sheer difference in age would trip them up though.

As Izuku made his way to class, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. A little part of him itched to bring the device out and message back. Another part told him to not seem too eager, so he didn’t. Instead, he held fast to the statement that he would likely take time between responses and waited until after his inorganic chemistry lecture was over to even peek at the device.

I wouldn’t say that 19 is a child’s age. It took me a long time to realize that anyone can learn, regardless of how old they are. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you in school for?

That was a pretty normal question, and Izuku didn’t mind answering it. It wasn’t like the guy was asking for all of his information, anyway. It could have been a lot worse.

That was how it started. What Izuku had been sure would have been a bust turned out to be at the least pretty engaging, sporadic conversation. And his conversation partner was honestly one of the best listeners he’d ever met. Izuku would mention something once just for the man to bring it up again later on, always bringing the conversation back to something interesting. It didn’t take long for Izuku to grow increasingly comfortable and slowly lower his guard. He could tell the same was happening for his potential sugar daddy, though Izuku felt that their relationship was more akin to friends. After all, they’d been learning one another’s favorite things and been speaking very generally about their lives, keeping any telling details out of it. Even his friends saw that he had his nose in his phone, and while it was difficult for Izuku to hide it from them, he persevered.

A few days turned into a couple of weeks, and before they’d hit an entire month of messaging one another, Izuku was the one to ask if they should meet in person.

I know this is probably really forward of me, but I’ve enjoyed talking to you a lot! Even if we don’t become, I’m not sure what to call it—daddy and baby? Forgive me, I was so embarrassed typing that—I’d really love to meet you. I’ve had the best time talking with you, and I’d love it if we were friends in real life as well as over messages. If you aren’t comfortable with that, I’d love to keep messaging too!

Izuku didn’t expect an immediate response, but he got one. Without even being able to put his phone back into his pocket, Izuku was looking at the screen once again.

Truthfully, I’d love to. I will ask that we meet somewhere discreet. If you don’t already have plans on Friday, would you like to meet me somewhere? Of course, I’ll send you a fare to get a cab if you’d prefer I don’t have your address to send a car for you.

Oh. Oh! That—well, that was a generous offer, but Izuku really wouldn’t want to impose! He was already typing a response when another popped up.

And please, let me at least offer that and dinner. I’ve enjoyed talking with you as well, and I believe this will be the easiest way for me to show my gratitude.

Izuku couldn’t exactly argue with that. He huffed, but his lips still curled into a little smile. It was sweet, if anything, to know that his conversation partner has enjoyed this as much as he has.

In the days leading up to their not-date, Izuku was a little, anxious bee. He kept looking over all of the clothes in his closet, trying to see what he had that fit ‘business-casual’. There were a few things, though he figured he’d stick with dark dress pants and a button-down. The day of, he was throwing every shirt he had onto his bed, trying to figure out which one would look best. Izuku opted for crimson—a color he rarely wore, but at least it didn’t wash him out as much as plain, white shirts did. He matched the shirt to his favorite pair of sneakers before messaging his friend that he’d be getting a cab soon, to which he was told to request the ‘flame room’. The address he’d been sent wasn’t too far, but it was fancy. The last thing he needed was to be late.

The cab came quickly and the ride felt all too short. Izuku checked that he had his phone, wallet and keys before stepping onto the sidewalk and peering up at the giant building.

Intimidating was the first word that came to mind, but Izuku could also feel that the building was a higher-class than what he was accustomed to. The windows were tinted, and there were only so many seats on the main floor from what he could see. Maybe when his friend said ‘discreet’, he meant ‘private’?

The revolving door led him right into the thick of it. Soft jazz music played overhead, and the conversations being had around him were incredibly soft. Overhead, there were chandeliers and recessed lights with a mural painted on the ceiling. It smelled divine, making Izuku’s mouth water before his eyes finally snapped to the host’s podium and the man standing there.

The blond man was as nonchalant as they came and only a little taller than Izuku. Glinting studs were at his ears, and when he moved his hands, Izuku saw the gloves he wore and the pocket watch chain dangling from his vest pocket.

“Hello there. Do you have a reservation?”

Izuku was speechless for just a second before he found his bearings. Was the air dry, or was that his throat?

“Ah—sorry, my friend told me to ask for the ‘flame room’?”

Light brows arched curiously. Did Izuku say something odd? He was going to correct himself when the host was motioning to a door off to the left of the entrance.

“Of course. If you’d follow me.”

Izuku was led down towards the door, down a hall and into a spacious room. ‘Flame’ seemed to indicate the red-theme of the room itself. The ceiling was high, and the table and chairs were deep red and dark wood. It was eye-catching if nothing else, and Izuku took a moment to peer around as he was shown to his seat. A little cubby nearby held menus while silverware and drink ware was already laid out on the table. A menu was placed in front of him, and Izuku wasn’t sure where he should be looking.

“Please take your time looking over our seasonal plates while you wait for your friend to arrive.”

Maybe it was all in Izuku’s head, but he heard the word ‘friend’ as though he should have said a different word in its place. Izuku didn’t get the chance to ask about it. Instead, he took his time reading over the menu and waiting, which didn’t turn out to be long.

What felt like a few minutes later, the door opened again. Izuku’s gaze snapped to the person entering, and at first, all he saw was a dark suit over a broad body. He didn’t recognize it immediately, and perhaps that was for the best. It wasn’t until the door was closed that the low light spread to fiery, crimson hair and icy eyes landed on emerald ones that Izuku sucked in a breath. There was no way that he was seeing properly, he couldn’t be. His voice came out quiet, almost shrill with his disbelief.

“Todoroki-san?”

Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku could have dealt with absolutely anything else in that moment. He could have walked out of the restaurant naked, could have made an absolute fool of himself by shrieking and running from the building. Anything, so long as he left.

Gods, why didn’t he leave?

After the initial shock of realizing that the man he’d been texting for weeks was actually his best friend’s father, it should have been Izuku’s only course of action. Todoroki Enji was nearly three times his age, had four children and was divorced. It wasn’t that those facts deterred Izuku (he was well aware that they hadn’t prior to finding out his friend’s true identity), rather it was the idea that he hadn’t pieced all of it together in the first place.

Granted, Izuku had only met Shouto’s father once prior to now, but that also happened to be the first time he’d ever even gone to Shouto’s house! Things were moving far too quickly for Izuku, he needed—goodness, he just needed a second! He was sweating, and all the other man was doing was sitting across the table from him!

“I apologize—for not realizing that it was you. I didn’t mean to make anything awkward by potentially accidentally complicating your friendship with my son…”

In Izuku’s panic, he’d sort of forgotten to say anything after he’d breathed Enji’s name out as though the man were his evil stepmother. They’d been sitting in relative silence for a few minutes, after which maybe Enji felt like he needed to fill the room with some type of noise—any sound. Izuku was feeling that way, but the sound of choice was his blood rushing in his ears while his heart pounded in his chest.

He’d wanted to flee like a rabbit startled by another sentient creature. It was only because they’d blocked the doorway and not because Enji’s suit fit him perfectly. It had nothing to do with his smooth voice or how his steely, cerulean eyes widened with shock at the sight of Izuku the second he realized who the potential ‘sugarbaby’ he’d been talking to was. And it certainly wasn’t the fact that the man had so much money that he could pay Izuku’s way through college maybe a hundred times over. Izuku was just scared, okay!? He was fidgeting then, brushing the pad of one thumb over the nail of another as he stared down at the menu in front of him. There were no prices—how would he know what was cheapest?! He wouldn’t, and he’d have to accept that, he figured. That much he was willing to lament with a little whimper.

“If you’d rather not… continue this, I can leave. I’ll let them charge my card for whatever you order, which is the least I can offer in apology after this. Again, I truly apologize. I know you likely wouldn’t have continued to message me if you knew who I was.”

It took Enji saying Izuku’s thoughts aloud for Izuku to straighten up just a bit in what felt like protest. Enji was right, so why was he puffing his chest out about it? Izuku glanced at him for a fleeting second, enough to let Enji know that he was, in fact, paying attention.

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself that way,” Izuku mumbled. Enji’s brows furrowed, and while Izuku thought the man was mad, he was just confused.

“In what way? I don’t mean it negatively, just that I didn’t pin you for someone that would take part in an arrangement like this.”

That… stung. Izuku frowned to himself, trying to keep the “What is that supposed to mean?” from his face. There was no shame in getting adequately paid for his time! He should be compensated as much ashe could, should he not!? While he knew that wasn’t how Enji had meant it, that fact didn’t stop Izuku’s mind from running wild with false insinuations about his character and what type of person would want to be a sugarbaby.

“How many,” Izuku stated. It was supposed to be a question, but the words came out a little too flat to be one. Enji’s brows arched, and Izuku hated the way his stomach started to flutter at the expression. No! They weren’t doing anything like that, and Izuku would be leaving soon!

“How many…? Ah—do you mean how many partners do I currently have? Five currently on contract and five that I’ve had on contract before. The latter five are friends that I keep in sporadic contact with, all under 40 and clean.”

Clean? Izuku’s cheeks lit up like miniature traffic lights. Wasn’t 10 a lot, even if he wasn’t “active” with all of them? And what did they do, even if they weren’t contracted, or however he put it? Izuku mumbled a quiet “I see” before his gaze returned to his lap. He was horrible at this, even worse now that he’d made some halfway insinuation that Enji was outright paying the people that he considered his friends to have sex with him. Not that there was anything wrong with that!

Oh, all of Izuku’s thoughts were so horribly jumbled that he didn’t know what to do! He wanted to ask so many more questions, to dip his toe into the life that he’d been wanting to explore for weeks. He finally had the man of the hour in front of him, but this was so awkward that he was struggling to keep his wits about him. Maybe he really should just go home—

“Are you… active with all of them?” Izuku finally asked. That cherry blush was there to stay, making itself known every time he even thought something that was slightly less than wholesome. He could have strangled himself if he thought it’d do any good, but then Enji would just have to explain why there was a boy sitting at his table that had passed out from auto-asphyxiation. Thinking of that was even worse than running out of the restaurant without his clothes on.

Enji’s brows furrowed as though he wasn’t entirely sure what Izuku meant until his eyes widened. If he were seeing correctly, then the flush on Enji’s face was from his question.

“Gods—no, not all of them. Just two, and even then, it’s very rare I have time to… be intimate,” Enji rushed to clarify. “I spend so much time at work that—”

Izuku listened to Enji stop himself the moment he brought up his job. Something made him hesitate, and that was the thing that Izuku latched on to. Was he not supposed to talk about work? Maybe it was confidential, like a government agency. Or with how much money he made and how large the compound was, perhaps Enji was a step above that. Izuku was muttering before he could catch himself, and he was unaware of it until he saw Enji’s hand move out of the corner of his vision. The expression on the man’s face had shifted from embarrassed to closed-off and finally surprised in a matter of minutes.

“If you want to ask me questions about what I do, you’re welcome to. The only parts of my job that’s confidential are the same ones as other firms’. Mergers, potential contracts and customers, actual figures and the like.”

Figures? Customers and contracts made Izuku think that Enji was an accountant, and that was when he realized he never even asked him what he did while they were initially getting to know one another. That didn’t seem to matter at the time, even if the potential yen in Izuku’s bank account was how they started messaging in the first place. The connection they could have felt genuine since he thought that Enji was being genuine…

And what was stopping that from being the truth now? It wasn’t like Enji had purposefully misled him since neither of them knew who the other was. Izuku just had so many questions, then his head got scrambled from seeing his best friend’s dad, and he hadn’t even thought that Enji would be as surprised as he’d been.

Izuku hadn’t been fair at all. He inhaled slowly and huffed out a breath, pulling himself from his thoughts enough to meet Enji’s gaze. No more icy blue—they were alert, curious almost in the way they searched Izuku’s face for a sign of what he was going to say. There could even be the potential thought swirling in Enji’s head that Izuku would call all of this off because of who he was in relation to Shouto.

That wasn’t the look of someone who’d have lied to him purposefully. He was just as shocked, and Izuku should have taken it into account before speaking so rashly.

“I’m sorry,” he finally murmured. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that, since I’m sure you didn’t know who I was any more than I knew who you were. I’m sure you wouldn’t have even responded to my message if you did know. I asked something really personal when it wasn’t my place to, and I shouldn’t have expected you to answer it either.”

Izuku puffed out another breath. If he’d known that his cheeks puffed out when he did that, he certainly would have stopped a long time ago. Rubbing the back of his left index finger with his right thumb beneath the table, he glanced away in an attempt to gather his thoughts. Enji was being awfully patient with him, which Izuku didn’t even get from some people his own age. It made him feel a little more comfortable in speaking more candidly.

“I really have enjoyed messaging you the entire time. And I’d hoped that we could have the same type of conversations in person, if that’s something you’re interested in despite who I am. And I’d rather if we started off as something more like friends than… whatever else this might end up being. And I’d like to hear your thoughts on that.”

In the silence after Izuku made his thoughts known, Enji pursed his lips as though he were carefully formulating a response. It gave Izuku a chance to study the other man a little more closely.

Enji was older than Izuku’s mother, that much was apparent. The only thing that made that apparent though was that it was stated on his profile. From appearance alone, Izuku wouldn’t have been able to tell that Enji was older than thirty-five. If he looked very closely, he could see barely-there frown lines on the corners of his mouth, and a few strands of hair may have grown in gray here and there. The tiniest of lines were left whenever he relaxed his brow too. Despite all of that, the ocean blue of Enji’s eyes was strikingly clear, and he only acted ‘older’ in the sense that he tried to comport himself in a way that showed he had manners. That could have just been the way he was raised. Enji never treated Izuku like a child, even when Enji didn’t know who he was.

That meant a lot, didn’t it?

When Enji went to speak, Izuku nearly looked away. He forced himself to stare straight ahead regardless of the desire to avert his gaze, and Enji held Izuku’s attention as he went to speak.

“I was certainly surprised when I saw you, and I don’t blame you for being on your guard. I would have been as well if I weren’t accustomed to the confidentiality of applications like that. You’re just being cautious, and I understand that. I also have enjoyed getting to know you and messaging, and I’d appreciate it if we could continue to do that. I’d truly like to have a friend, if you’d prefer to start out that way. However, I’d still like to pay for any of the outings we go on, even if they aren’t ‘expensive’, so to say. Please think of returning the payment by enjoying yourself.”

Izuku chewed on the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed as he thought about it. That wasn’t a bad deal, was it? He could try and convince Enji to let them go to cheaper places, meet during times where other people wouldn’t be around as much. Izuku had options, and that meant a lot.

“Yeah. I’d really like that. So… I guess I should still call you Todoroki-san?” Izuku asked. Enji didn’t respond immediately, making Izuku feel as though he’d potentially asked something he shouldn’t have.

“I don’t have many friends, so I’d like if you called me Enji. So long as you don’t mind.”

That was a better start than Izuku had anticipated after the surprise. Sure, he wouldn’t be telling Shouto about this any time soon, but Enji really seemed to be the same person that he was over the messages. A genuine peal of laughter filled the room just for Izuku to shake his head at his own panic. This could be a lot better than he thought.

“Then maybe we should go ahead and order if we’re staying?” Izuku suggested. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn that Enji was smiling, too.

“We should, shouldn’t we?”

The entire way home, Izuku was thoroughly distracted. His cheeks were hurting with just how broadly he was smiling, and he was staring down at a contact photo he’d gotten of Enji in that suit. His nerves had calmed considerably, but he was still left with butterflies fluttering inside of his stomach at just the thought of them meeting up again.

Izuku was unaccustomed to attention, something he was well aware of. The only people to ever give him nearly undivided attention were his mother, Ochako, Shouto, and now Enji. He could still feel the way those cerulean eyes lingered on parts of his face, less like Enji was just making eye contact and more like he wanted to stare at Izuku. That was a totally foreign idea, one that made Izuku a bit nervous since there was no reason for Enji to be so… enamored certainly wasn’t the word. Maybe he was searching for something? Like he expected Izuku to lie about how much fun he was having.

He couldn’t have known that he was only half right.

When Izuku got back to his dorm, he was eager to shower and lay down. In comfy pajamas and beneath his myriad of blankets, he was already typing up a message to send to Enji before he went to sleep.

I had a lot of fun tonight! If you want to go out again, just tell me what days you’re free!

There were so many words swirling in his head that he wanted to say, but simple and straight-forward was probably best. After he sent the message off, Izuku plugged his phone up to charge for the night, placed it on his nightstand, and tucked himself deep into his typical comfort pile.

Izuku had freaked out at the beginning, but Enji really turned out to be caring. Enji’s voice carried despite how softly he spoke, and the rumble was comforting even from across the table. Izuku knew that Enji’s family viewed him differently due to the very little Shouto had talked about of his childhood. Enji hadn’t been a bad father, per se, but he’d been very absent and distant. His job had come first for years, but he was trying to actively change that now.

All he could do was support Enji and see where their newfound connection went.

In the days after, Izuku was practically glued to his phone. Most of his friends noticed, though only a few opted to bring it to Izuku’s attention. One of said friends was Shouto, who’d taken to sitting next to Izuku while they studied.

“You smile at your phone a lot now,” he stated. The sound of his voice had startled Izuku into nearly dropping the device, but he barely kept it within his grasp. The text that he was typing out to send to Enji ended up as pure gibberish that he backspaced swiftly before glancing up at Shouto and trying to hide that burning shame.

Admittedly, Izuku never stopped texting Enji. Even when he was hanging out with his friends or around Shouto, who hadn’t the foggiest idea that Izuku had essentially gone on a date with his father. While it ate at Izuku, he knew that Shouto’s relationship with Enji was already strained enough to cause Shouto to rarely speak with his father. Fuyumi was the only one that seemed to greet Enji with a smile, and he never even considered telling her. So, nearly being caught doing something that he knew he shouldn’t have been brought heat to Izuku’s face as he asked Shouto to repeat what he said.

“I said that you smile at your phone a lot now. Like when Denki gets one of those characters he likes in his mobile games.”

Shouto’s statement was all too accurate. Izuku would sit there, staring down at his phone with a dopey smile on his lips, and the worst part was that he hadn’t even realized it.

“I—what? No, I don’t do that!” Izuku laughed, quickly returning his attention to his laptop. Oh gods, what was he going to say if Shouto asked about it? He couldn’t tell the truth! He’d have to lie, and Izuku hated lying. But, if it were to save his best friend’s feelings, he’d do it and just not like it. Shouto was watching him, almost like he was sizing up Izuku’s response before he finally returned his gaze to his own computer.

“You do, but it’s not a bad thing. It looks good on you.”

Those words hung between them without further explanation. Izuku was even more taken off-guard by it since Shouto wasn’t typically the type to constantly compliment someone. He murmured a ‘thanks’, and all Shouto did was hum in response. The rest of their study session went about the same with less texts to Enji so Izuku could focus!

A night not long after, Izuku was settled in bed, and he found that it was harder to sleep that usual. He was blaming that on the fact that he hadn’t done anything in a little while and every time he slept, he felt like he saw Enji behind his eyelids. His brain supplied one scenario after another, each one growing more lewd than the last. The first few were just kissing, then they evolved into touching and then—

Izuku turned over onto his back and groaned softly in frustration. He scrubbed at his face with the heels of his palms, thoroughly annoyed with where he’d landed himself. They were friends, and this was his best friend’s dad! No part of his apparent desire was acceptable, yet it coursed through his veins like fire, so different from any emotion he’d experienced for another person. Whenever he tried to turn over and forget the molten lava beneath his skin, his thoughts would inevitably be brought right back to Enji. He just wanted to sleep!

After an hour of tossing and turning, Izuku figured he’d had enough. He hadn’t given himself the chance to feel pleasure in a while, so maybe this was as good a chance as any. Even if his thoughts were circling a man he’d technically just met, Izuku was sitting up and reaching for his nightstand. He slid the drawer open and reached in blindly, knowing where everything was inside. A bottle of lube, one phallic toy, and a pair of discarded underwear later, Izuku was shifting to get more comfortable before warming the lubricant with his fingers before bringing them to his entrance.

The shame of already being achingly hard was drowned out when his slicked fingers slipped right past that ring of muscle. Izuku shivered all the way down to his toes and had to silence himself by turning his head into his pillow for the time being. He sucked down a breath when he started to move, feeling himself twitch around his digits despite how small they were. He’d seen bigger, knew he could stretch himself better with them—

Enji’s hands, likely calloused and so much bigger than Izuku’s, were the ones that jumped to his mind first. A soft whimper resonated in his chest, vibrating and washing over him with the same feeling of shame as when Shouto nearly found him out. The heat he felt lying in bed with his fingers inside of himself though was delicious and beckoning, sucking him in deeper to that feeling of near-bliss. He really hadn’t done anything in so long if he was this desperate.

When Izuku felt his dick throb between his legs, he sighed a little whine while reaching for his toy. The dildo was just big enough to fill him without stretching so much that it hurt, something he was reminded of after adding lube and placing the head against his rim. He rocked his hips, huffing quietly with the need to have it inside. A light sheen of sweat was collecting on his skin, and Izuku thought he’d go crazy when he felt that all too familiar, near-filling sensation.

He couldn’t bite back the next moan that came from his lips as he eased it out so slowly just to work it back inside. Maybe his dormmates were asleep—that way he wouldn’t have to face the humiliation of knowing they’re hearing him fucking himself with a fake dick.

But it didn’t have to be fake. It could have been anyone’s dick. Maybe even Enji’s.

Izuku felt himself squeeze the toy with a pathetic shift back onto the shaft. More glided in, making him tremble when it brushed against that spot that made him see stars. He was so goddamn hopeless, cursing himself while he thought of Enji’s hands on his waist, holding him like something fragile while stretching him until Izuku couldn’t take it anymore. He’d always been so sensitive, and that brought about the thought of Enji toying with him, making his nipples perk up and dick twitch until he was a sticky, panting puddle beneath the man.

Turning onto his stomach, Izuku laid flat against the bed and rutted against the soft sheets, eyes screwed closed to pretend that some of the touches he was experiencing were Enji. His sheets were going to be soiled by the end of it, especially with how he was leaking, dick twitching and weeping against the fabric. He even brought his left hand up to his chest and brushed the pad of his fingers over a hard nipple. He could do more, he thought as he rutted back onto the toy, just a little pinch—

So much happened all at once. The pinch had him forcing the toy all the way into the base, and his insides clamped down at the exact same time. A soft cry left Izuku’s lips as he buried his face into his pillow and felt white-hot pleasure wash over him, the kind that made his vision go white and his ears ring. The moment felt like it lasted an eternity before he was finally able to open his eyes and attempt to get a grip on reality.

When he rolled onto his back and finally exhaled, his face was so pink it could practically glow in the low light. He couldn’t believe he’d just cum thinking about his best friend’s dad fucking him.

And it’d been the best orgasm of his life.