The UA High School dormitory was cloaked in the quiet of midnight, the kind of stillness that made every creak and whisper feel like a shout. Izuku Midoriya, better known as Deku, shuffled into the communal kitchen, his green hair a disheveled mess and his muscles aching from a brutal training session that had pushed him to his limits. His throat felt like sandpaper, and all he could think about was something cold, something wet, something to soothe the burn in his chest.
The kitchen was dimly lit by the soft glow of the refrigerator light spilling out as he yanked it open. Nothing. Just a sad carton of milk that had probably expired last week and a half-eaten apple that looked like it had seen better days. Groaning, he shut the door and turned to the counter, where a lone, unlabeled bottle sat like a beacon of hope. It was sleek, glass, with a faint shimmer of condensation on its surface. A protein shake, surely. Someone must’ve left it out after a workout. Without a second thought, Deku twisted off the cap and took a long, desperate chug.
The taste hit him like a punch—smooth, rich, with an edge of something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t chocolate or vanilla or any flavor he’d expected. It was... intoxicating. Addictive. His eyes widened as he pulled the bottle back, staring at it with a mix of confusion and fascination. “What *is* this?” he muttered to himself, licking his lips instinctively. “It’s... weirdly good.”
That’s when the door creaked open, and Shoto Todoroki stepped in, his dual-colored hair catching the faint light. He froze mid-step, his mismatched eyes locking onto Deku—and the bottle in his hand. For a split second, Todoroki’s usually stoic expression cracked, a flicker of panic crossing his face before he smoothed it over with his signature icy composure.
“Midoriya,” Todoroki said, his voice cool but edged with something sharp. “What exactly are you doing with that?”
Deku nearly choked, the bottle slipping slightly in his grip as he spun to face him. “T-Todoroki! I, uh, I was just—thirsty! After training! And I saw this on the counter, and I thought it was, like, a shake or something, so I—”
“You drank it,” Todoroki cut in, his tone flat but his gaze piercing, like he was trying to freeze Deku to the spot. He stepped closer, arms crossed, the air around him seeming to drop a few degrees. “Without even asking whose it was?”
Deku’s freckled cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he stammered, “I-I didn’t think anyone would mind! It was just sitting here, and I was dying of thirst, and—wait.” He paused, his analytical mind kicking into overdrive as he glanced at the bottle, then at Todoroki’s unreadable expression. “Why do you care so much? Is this... yours?”
Todoroki’s jaw tightened, just for a moment, before he leaned casually against the counter, his posture deceptively relaxed. “Maybe it is. Maybe it’s a... special reserve. Something I didn’t intend for anyone else to sample.”
Deku blinked, the pieces slowly clicking together. His eyes widened in horror—and something else, something curious—as he held the bottle up like it was evidence in a crime scene. “Special reserve? Todoroki, what *is* this? It doesn’t taste like any protein shake I’ve ever had. It’s... different. Kinda... personal?”
Todoroki’s left side flared with a subtle heat, a blush creeping up his cheek despite his best efforts to keep it at bay. He straightened, his voice dropping to a dangerous, frosty whisper. “Midoriya, I suggest you stop asking questions you don’t want the answers to.”
But Deku, flustered as he was, had never been one to back down from a mystery. He squared his shoulders, clutching the bottle like a lifeline, and shot Todoroki a defiant look. “Oh, I *want* the answers, Shoto. I’ve already tasted it. Might as well know what I’m dealing with. So spill—or should I say, explain what I just... spilled down my throat?”
Todoroki’s eyes narrowed, a spark of irritation—and maybe amusement—flickering in them. “You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, Midoriya. Didn’t think you had it in you to be so... bold. Or so stupid.”
“Stupid?” Deku fired back, his embarrassment morphing into a stubborn kind of bravado. “I’m not the one leaving mysterious bottles lying around for anyone to drink! What if someone else had grabbed it? What if Uraraka or Iida had—oh god, I can’t even think about that.” He shuddered, then pointed an accusing finger at Todoroki. “This is on *you*. So what is it? Some weird energy drink? A secret recipe? Or...” His voice dropped, almost a whisper, as his curiosity got the better of him. “Something... more personal?”
Todoroki stepped closer, his presence looming as the temperature in the room seemed to war between hot and cold. He leaned in, his breath brushing Deku’s ear as he murmured, “You really want to know, don’t you? You’re practically begging for the truth. Careful, Midoriya. Some secrets are... messier than you’d expect.”
Deku’s heart thudded in his chest, his grip on the bottle tightening as he fought the urge to step back—or step closer. “I’m not scared of a little mess,” he shot back, his voice shakier than he’d intended but laced with a newfound edge. “I’ve handled worse than whatever you’re hiding. So try me.”
Todoroki pulled back just enough to meet Deku’s gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, I’ll try you, alright. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. That ‘shake’ you just chugged? Let’s just say it’s... a product of some very private heat. A release, if you will.”
Deku’s brain short-circuited, his face turning a shade of red that could’ve rivaled Todoroki’s left side. “W-What?! You mean—oh my god, are you serious? I just drank—?!” He cut himself off, unable to even finish the sentence as he stared at the bottle in abject horror—and, if he was honest, a flicker of intrigue.
Todoroki shrugged, his smirk widening as he turned to leave, tossing over his shoulder, “Figure it out, genius. And next time, ask before you drink something that isn’t yours. Or don’t. I kind of like seeing you squirm.”
Deku stood there, frozen, as Todoroki disappeared down the hall, the bottle still clutched in his trembling hands. His mind raced, torn between mortification and a strange, undeniable pull. That taste... it lingered on his tongue, teasing him, taunting him. And as much as he wanted to scrub the memory from his brain, a mischievous glint sparked in his emerald eyes.
“Maybe,” he muttered to himself, a sly grin creeping onto his face, “I should just go straight to the source for another sip.”
The kitchen fell silent once more, but the air buzzed with the promise of something daring, something forbidden, just waiting to ignite.
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