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Shouta sat at the table and watched Izuku dance around the kitchen in boxers and a borrowed shirt, low music filling the background.
He could feel the small aches and bruises from their night together - little reminders that made him smile into his coffee.
Izuku glanced away from pouring batter into the pan, catching Shouta’s eye with a widening grin.
“What are you smiling about?” Shouta grumbled at him, as if he wasn’t mirroring the look himself.
Izuku playfully shrugged, refocusing on breakfast, “Is it a crime for me to be happy?”
“I would cuff you right now… if my gear wasn’t still on the bedroom floor.”
“Mmm, promises promises…” he smirked.
“Don’t push me, Midoriya; I’m good on my word,” Shouta teased back.
Shouta’s eyes wandered over Izuku - beautifully comfortable in Shouta’s shirt - the front dipping open to give the perfect view as Izuku leaned over to set a plate before him.
“I’m counting on it, hero.”
Izuku winked, and Shouta no longer had any interest in food.