The UA High School dormitory was a labyrinth of chaos at the best of times, but at 2 a.m., it was a ghostly shell of its usual self. The communal kitchen, tucked at the end of the hall, was lit only by the faint glow of the refrigerator light as Izuku Midoriya—better known as Deku—stumbled in, sweat still clinging to his brow from a grueling late-night training session. His muscles ached, his throat was drier than the Sahara, and his brain was operating on about three percent battery life.
“Water… gotta be water somewhere…” he muttered to himself, yanking open the fridge door with a grunt. His bleary eyes scanned the shelves, landing on a sleek, unlabeled bottle tucked behind a half-empty carton of milk. It looked like one of those fancy sports drinks—clear, slightly tinted, probably one of Kirishima’s electrolyte mixes. Without a second thought, Deku snatched it up, popped the cap, and chugged.
The first gulp hit his tongue, and he froze mid-swallow. It wasn’t… bad. But it wasn’t Gatorade either. There was a strange, almost musky undertone to it, a flavor he couldn’t quite place but found himself weirdly drawn to. He tilted the bottle back again, taking another long pull, savoring the odd warmth that spread through his chest.
“What… is this?” he murmured, squinting at the empty bottle in his hand, just as the kitchen door creaked open.
Shoto Todoroki stepped in, his dual-colored hair slightly mussed, wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants. He froze in the doorway, his mismatched eyes widening in abject horror as they landed on Deku—and the empty bottle in his grip.
“Midoriya,” Todoroki said, his voice a strained whisper, “what did you just drink?”
Deku blinked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still tasting the lingering flavor. “Uh… some kind of energy drink? It was in the fridge. Kinda weird, but honestly, not bad. Whose is it? I owe them a replacement.”
Todoroki’s face did something Deku had never seen before—it turned a shade of red so violent it rivaled his left side’s flames. He took a step forward, then stopped, hands clenching into fists at his sides as if debating whether to bolt or combust on the spot.
“That… wasn’t an energy drink,” Todoroki managed, his voice tight, almost robotic. “That was… mine. And it was… personal.”
Deku tilted his head, confusion morphing into curiosity. “Personal? Like, what, a protein shake? Dude, it’s fine, I’ll buy you another one. What’s the big deal?”
Todoroki’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his gaze burning a hole into the linoleum floor. “It’s not a protein shake. It’s… it’s not something you buy. It’s… something I… made.”
Deku’s brain, sluggish as it was, finally started to piece things together. His eyes widened, flicking from the empty bottle to Todoroki’s mortified expression. “Wait. Wait a second. You’re not saying… no way. You mean…?”
Todoroki gave a curt nod, still refusing to meet Deku’s gaze. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. I didn’t think anyone would… touch it. I labeled the shelf, but I guess the note fell off. I’m… sorry.”
For a long, agonizing moment, the kitchen was silent save for the faint hum of the fridge. Deku should have been disgusted. He should have been gagging, running for the sink to rinse out his mouth. But instead, something entirely unexpected bubbled up inside him—a thrill, sharp and electric, coursing through his veins like a shot of adrenaline. He set the bottle down on the counter with deliberate slowness, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“So,” Deku drawled, leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re telling me I just drank something… straight from you, huh?”
Todoroki’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “Midoriya, I—”
“Relax, Todoroki,” Deku interrupted, his voice low, almost teasing. “I’m not mad. In fact…” He took a step closer, his green eyes glinting with something dangerous, something new. “I kinda liked it.”
Todoroki blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You… what?”
“You heard me,” Deku said, his smirk widening. He was running on pure instinct now, the exhaustion and adrenaline mixing into a cocktail of boldness he didn’t know he had. “It was… different. Kinda addictive, actually. So, I’ve gotta ask—got any more? Or do I have to go straight to the source for a refill?”
The air in the kitchen thickened, charged with a tension that could’ve sparked a wildfire. Todoroki stared at Deku, his normally composed facade crumbling under the weight of those words. “Midoriya, are you… serious?”
Deku chuckled, stepping even closer, close enough that Todoroki could feel the heat radiating off him. “Oh, I’m dead serious. Unless you’re too shy to share. I mean, I get it—some guys aren’t into being… generous.”
Todoroki’s face was a battlefield of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and something darker, something that flickered in his mismatched gaze as he finally met Deku’s eyes. “You’re… insane,” he muttered, but there was no venom in it, just a raw edge of disbelief.
“Maybe,” Deku shot back, his voice dripping with challenge. “Or maybe I just know what I want. So, what’s it gonna be, Todoroki? You gonna leave me thirsty, or are you gonna step up?”
For a heartbeat, Todoroki didn’t move, didn’t speak. Then, slowly, a corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something close, something that promised trouble. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Midoriya.”
Deku grinned, all teeth and mischief. “Good. I like danger.”
The kitchen seemed to shrink around them, the space between them crackling with unspoken possibilities. Whatever came next, one thing was clear—neither of them was backing down. And as Deku’s smirk held firm, and Todoroki’s gaze burned with a quiet intensity, the night was just getting started.
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