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Shouto swallows nervously for what feels like the fiftieth time that night, shifting from one foot to another as he stares down at the fancy watch around his wrist that he has worn all of two times since Fuyumi got it for him when he graduated. It has been exactly thirty-seven seconds since he last checked the time. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Huffing out a breath, he forces himself to look up at the bustling city, people commuting to or from work, friends going on a night out, cab drivers looking to make a living off of tourists and tired locals alike. His collar feels too tight. Shouto fidgets with it once, twice, he wonders why he wore a tie at all and pulls it off, rolling it into a neat, navy blue ball and stuffing it in his pocket.
Why is he so nervous? It’s just a date.
Izuku has taken him out to dinner before, more times than he can count, and he has done the same in return. They have shared a bed as well, multiple times at that, for goodness’ sake, so why is he so nervous about a date?
Sure, this is their first official date. They had been living together since high school—yes, Shouto counts the dorms as living together too—and they were each other’s closest friend for a little longer even, but it wasn’t until last week that they actually talked about their lingering feelings. To Shouto, Izuku had been an integral part of his life, changed it for the better. For all intents and purposes, Izuku was, and always will be, Shouto’s hero. It didn’t really come as a surprise to him that his feelings for him would only grow into something more than just friendship, even if he hadn’t actively been looking for something of that nature. Like everything that had to do with his relationship with Izuku, loving him was just as natural as breathing.
Though, while all that may be true, he had never in a million years expected Izuku to feel the same way. In comparison to his impact on Shouto’s life, his own on Izuku’s paled. Well, at least that was what he thought, but then again, Shouto had always had a hard time seeing worth in himself and his actions. So, really, when Izuku mentioned that he wanted to talk to him because he needed to get something important off his chest, Shouto was almost too busy trying to figure out where he would live once he got kicked out for something he didn’t remember doing to hear the confession.
When it finally registered, Shouto can only remember falling back onto the couch as his knees gave out from under him and the rest was darkness. Not his best moment, he will admit to that, but once he came to a few minutes later and Izuku was sure that he was okay, he couldn’t kiss his best friend to stop his string of tearful apologies fast enough.
In light of a bold move such as that, what is a date? Nothing, that’s what, so why, again, is he on the verge of a nervous breakdown. If it weren’t for his quirk, Shouto is sure he’d be drenched in sweat by now. Isn’t that a way to make a first impression?
It’s not a first impression though. He and Izuku have known each other for years. WHY?!
“Shouto-kun,” A breathless voice calls from behind him, and Shouto whips around so quickly he smacks Izuku in the face. Eyes widening in horror, he lifts his hands up uselessly, staring at his friend—boyfriend as he rubs at his nose with a huffed laugh. “Jeez, if you’re that mad at me for being late, you can just say so.”
“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to h—” Izuku takes his hand and squeezes reassuringly, giving him a soft smile as he snaps his jaw shut with an audible click.
“It’s okay.” He whispers, voice tender and full of love. Shouto’s heart leaps in his chest and his vision darkens slightly. This really isn’t a good sign. “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know?”
Oh, he knows. He most definitely knows. But knowing and doing are really not the same thing, as he has come to realise in the fifteen minutes he waited by the door to the restaurant. Shouto nods stiffly and Izuku laughs into his hand, his freckled cheeks colouring a pretty shade of pink that knocks the breath right out of his lungs.
It’s just a date, damn it, get a grip you socially awkward buffoon.
“You look really nice, by the way. I feel bad for just throwing something on after work now. I was already running late so I didn’t have time to think about what to wear.”
“You look perfect.” Shouto blurts without thinking.
Even if Izuku didn’t look extremely nice with black jeans and a simple white button-down, even if he had showed up in an old tracksuit, Shouto still would have stood by that statement. The way his flush darkens when Shouto says it only serves to make it truer. Dear lord, Shouto loves him so much, he is beautiful inside and out. If he thinks about it, it’s no wonder he is nervous, knowing someone like Izuku loves him back is like being told that he has been chosen by the gods to carry out some grand plan. But as terrified as he is of messing it up, he is still going to give it his all. Izuku deserves nothing less.
With a deep breath, he moves closer to Izuku, pulling him into a warm embrace and breathing him in. “Thank you.” Shouto whispers.
Humming inquisitively, Izuku stares up at him, all wide green eyes and full parted lips, dark freckles popping over round and reddened cheeks. Even having put on even more muscle since high school (which somehow seems impossible), Izuku’s face remains wonderfully young. Baby-faced, Uraraka would call him. Well, Shouto loves him just as he is, more than anything in the world.
“What for?” Izuku finally asks once Shouto doesn’t enlighten him of his own accord.
With a small shrug, Shouto pushes down his nerves and tugs Izuku into the restaurant. “There are too many things to name them all. So I guess I’ll just settle for saying ‘everything’.”
Izuku lowers his head with an embarrassed whine, his fingers tightening around Shouto’s hand. “You’re such a sap.” He breathes, the corners of his mouth tugging into a wobbly smile. “But you’re welcome, I guess.”
As they make their way to their table, Shouto is still unreasonably jittery. But at least he has Izuku’s lovely smile to quell his worries.