@dibbvk
shouto’s teeth itch, his hands itch, and they slide up izuku’s arms. he leans in, feels his forehead brush against izuku’s, and despite the raging hunger that’s been curling inside him since the slayer took one step into his mansion, there’s a kind of tenderness there, like the moment is suspended in ice. and shouto feels his heart, cold and clammy as it is, pick up pace.
he doesn’t want this to just be some kind of fling or throwaway thing, and he’s read enough creaky romance novels to know that hooking up with the handsome slayer never ends well, and that izuku is not only the first human he’s ever seen, but the first living, sentient thing he’s seen in years, but... he might just be getting over attached, but he wants this to mean something.
which is why he’s taking his time with this, why he wraps his arms around izuku’s neck and kisses him, open mouthed, teeth still salty with blood. he doesn’t know a lot but he moves forward, slides onto izuku’s lap and presses himself close.
shouto’s left is unnaturally warm, and his right unnaturally cold, so he’s sure that it must feel strange, but izuku isn’t pulling away, and shouto doesn’t get anything other than a smile when he pulls back, and he was given permission, explicit permission, to feed. and izuku must know what it means. he must.
so it’s with a gentle exhale that he presses against izuku’s neck, blowing warm air over it in an attempt to make him giggle, and then slowly, like he’s afraid (he is) and guilty (he is), presses his fangs into izuku’s neck.
