Todoroki was not sexually frustrated.

This was just a massage.

He was the one who was complaining about his sore muscles.

Maybe it was the case.

Maybe it was Izuku.

Maybe it's because his heart was still racing from that night.

But as soon as the tension in his shoulders turned to cramps - he knew he needed to do something.

"You sure it's okay?" Kirishima asked, and- who is Todoroki to refuse? So, he nodded and turned slowly, laying on his front.

He didn't see the look on Kirishima's face but felt how the hand on the back of his shin, still big and warm - tightened. It slid up his leg to mid thigh as Kirishima leant forward and suddenly it was very, very hard for Todoroki to focus on anything else.

A blessedly warm pressure appeared on his spine, rolling firmly upwards without eliciting any pain. Todoroki glanced over his shoulder to see Kirishima focused on the contour of his back, his right hand spread over his thin T-shirt. Shouto was surprised the touching didn't immediately spark something sexual - Eijiro genuinely didn't seem to have any tricks up his sleeve.

Frost arced delicately across his knuckles, subtly pressed into his cheek.

He needed to calm down.

Just a massage - by his boyfriend.

"Eijiro-" Todoroki starts, but the other pressed a little harder and the warm relief was so intoxicating that he groaned and dropped his head low. The hand on his thigh squeezed and Todoroki couldn't help but let his legs fall open a little more. For a moment he regretted it- feeling his face flood with colour - but then Kirishima's hand slipped up bit by bit and settled just under his hip.

Todoroki glanced up with wide eyes and stared, meeting Eijiro's own flushed gaze. He opened his mouth and- and tried to say something, tried to bridge the new tension between them- yet the red head simply smiled and moved the hand safely back down to his knee.

"Do you mind if I move your top a bit? No pressure though - I can still do it over," He said, his voice low and a little hoarse, and Shouto swallows. He nodded quickly and couldn't tear his eyes away from the intense look on Kirishima's face.

Eijiro shuffled and sat next to his legs, tugging the edge of his shirt up until it's bundled under his armpits. He ran his hands up Shouto's back again, starting at his waist and dragging his palms along his skin and- fuck, fuck that feels so nice, it sent a shiver down his spine and Shouto had to bury his face into his pillow.

"Tell me if it hurts," Eijiro murmured, and then carefully kneads his warm hands into the aching muscles.

Initially Shouto flinched away from the direct contact on his skin, he misses the hurt look that flashes across the other.

He forgave them for what happened.

That didn't mean he'd forgotten, though.

Todoroki just began to relax back into the bed when he felt Eijiro's other hand rub gentle circles into the flesh at his lower back, and the warmth felt amazing. He couldn't help but moan into the crook of his arm. He arched his back into the touch and Eijiro increased his pressure in response.

"Better?" Eijiro asked, his voice soft and deep, and Shouto shivered. The hands stilled.

"Turn over? You said something about your chest, right?"

Hesitating for only a moment, Shouto rolled over to look at him.

It was quiet. Nothing but the gentle hum of the laundry machine and the rhythmic passing of cars on the street far below. The high notes were the sirens, the horns and the hollering. To someone unaccustomed it could've been less than therapeutic, but to Todoroki, these were the sounds of home.

For a few seconds, no one moved- and then Eijiro planted a hand next to Shouto's head and leant forward, caging him in. Red hair brushed against his face. Suddenly it was hard for Shouto to inhale, there's a heat in his chest and stomach, and an itch under his skin for Eijiro to come closer.

"Better," Shouto murmured in assent, and tilted his head back subtly, bringing their mouths closer together. He knows Eijiro

saw, knows because there's no way he didn't notice the long column of his throat bared, didn't feel the puffs of air from his mouth. A flush crawled its way up the other's cheekbones and Shouto had a passing thought to press his lips to it.

A hand settled on his waist, tucked neatly above his hipbone, and his eyes fluttered as Eijiro's thumb started rubbing slow circles into his skin. He didn't even realize how he'd been canting his body into the contact until the red head pressed down to still him and lean closer.

Kirishima's eyes flitted over Shouto's face; they caught on his lips and followed the line of his nose, tracing his eyebrows.

One eye is a beautiful blue porcelain, pale and striking; the other is a cool grey that's deep and impenetrable.

Eijiro has had so much time to watch and look and memorize the hues, and yet it's not enough. Perhaps there will never be enough.

"Can I kiss you?" Todoroki finally whispered, his voice so deep it sent a vibration through his own chest. He couldn't take it anymore - the tension, the rising heat, the cautious touches. He almost choked on the "please" that Kirishima forced out, intoxicated by the proximity and feeling of their two bodies. Shouto caught his biceps, fixated on his parted lips, and let his own eyes fall shut as the other man leant closer.

The first touch was delicate and almost unsure, off-centered, but- Todoroki's lips were dry and soft, and Eijiro couldn't help but press into them.

The hand on his waist squeezed and then slipped sideways to splay across Shouto's stomach. Fingers brushed the raised bumps of his ribcage and he inhaled sharply at the feeling. The other pulled back, eyes cautious and face flushed. He tried to stutter something out, anything- maybe an apology or an excuse - but Shouto shook his head.

He held his eyes, watching the way the other man flushed even more and drops eye contact to stare at his mouth.

"I'd like to kiss you again," Eijiro whispered, now staring more determinedly.

He tugged gently on the other's arms and rolled him over so they could lay side by side. Their legs tangled together and Shouto felt his shirt get even more rucked up, but he didn't fix it. He didn't want Eijiro to stop touching him.

Their lips met again, and Shouto couldn't keep his hands from slipping up the other's shoulders to frame his throat. He was split between the press of their lips and the pulse beating wildly beneath his palms, and is endeared when Kirishima sighed against his mouth.

The red head pulled back only to hitch himself onto his elbow and lean over Shouto. He slid his warm hand to the back of his skull and threaded his fingers through the dual hair there, scratching ever so lightly against Shouto's scalp; it was easy to let his eyes fall shut and hum as Eijiro cradled him.

Kirishima leant down and their lips met again and then again, and again. Shouto swiftly lost count of their kisses as Eijiro leant farther over him, a hand returning to the uncovered expanse of his stomach. The temperature rises and Shouto whimpered as Eijiro's thigh rubbed between his legs.

The other man hesitated, elbow dropped beside his face to the bed to keep from crushing him, pulled away to look down on him.

"Is this fine?" He asked.

"Yes - just -" Shouto stopped before did something embarrassing, hips twitching in place.

Eijiro relaxed, Shouto didn't even realise how tense the other's shoulders were - now dropped comfortably.

"I didn't think you'd like it so gentle." Eijiro baited, nudging his thigh upwards, again. Shouto took an uneven breath - holding back from rutting against it.

"I - I don't..." He lied, letting his mouth fall open to quietly pant.

"Oh well - I suppose Katsuki will be here soon, anyways..." Eijiro smirked, softly.