Chapter Text
Shouto held his frosting-covered fingertips aloft, and reached toward the mixing bowl on his kitchen counter with his clean hand. His lip quirked into a smile as he peeled back the towel to reveal the perfectly risen dough inside. Plopping the bowl onto his counter with the rest of the supplies, he absently brought his fingers to his mouth.
As he sucked away the sugary remnants of fresh cream cheese icing, he silently thanked whoever was listening for the bluetooth headphones that allowed him to bake while taking work calls. With a loud moan at the sweet taste, he withdrew his fingers, only to dip one right back into the frosting for seconds. These were only for him, anyway, so double-dipping was allowed.
“Yeah?” came the voice in his ear, his caller interrupting his own monologue. “You like that, baby boy? Like being bent over Daddy’s desk like the whore you are?”
“G-god yes,” Shouto slurred around the frosting and finger in his mouth. “Don’t stop, Daddy – you know I need you so bad…”
Shouto turned his dough out onto the pastry mat, grabbing his rolling pin as the noises in his headphones became more garbled, wet schlicking sounds loud in his ear as ‘Daddy’ growled more of his one-sided narration.
“...knew you wanted – hng – this fat cock – ha – teasing me all the time…”
“Fuck,” Shouto grunted, putting his weight into rolling out the dough. “Yeah. Wanted you so long – c’mon, come for me – come inside – I need it, Daddy.”
As expected, that worked like a charm. Shouto moaned above his soon-to-be cinnamon rolls as he listened to Daddy come undone on the other end of the line, sloppy groans and a chant of “take it, slut,” falling from his lips as he finished.
“Wow.” Shouto said after a few seconds, covering his deadpan tone with fake panting. “That was amazing.”
A breathy, cocky chuckle sounded in his ear. “Yeah, I could tell you were enjoying yourself as much as I was,” ‘Daddy’ said, and Shouto’s brow rose as he smirked down at the cinnamon filling he was coating over the dough. “You’re not very subtle, are you, baby boy? I like that.”
“You caught me, Daddy,” Shouto replied with a glance down at his fully clothed body, and his incredibly soft cock. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“That’s my boy,” Daddy said, pride evident in his voice, and Shouto gagged silently. “Goodnight, baby. I think I’ll ask for you again next time.”
“Looking forward to it... Daddy,” Shouto lied.
He hung up the phone, and heaved a sigh of relief.
Usually, he really preferred calls like these, where the customer had a very specific fantasy they wanted to talk through, and he just had to whine and moan and say a few lines when prompted. However, daddy kink was his unfortunately frequent exception to that rule – it was always a bit much for him. He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t want to.
(Well, he did, because he’d researched a lot about kinks since taking this job, but still.)
Shouto finished preparing his cinnamon rolls, and set them in the oven to bake. With one last dip of his finger into the bowl of icing, he started towards his room, making sure to put on a timer for twenty-five minutes.
He was just opening his crossword puzzle book when his work phone rang again. A quick glance at the clock told him it was a little after 11 pm. Friday night was always pretty busy.
“Hi there,” he answered, slipping easily back into his phone voice. “This is Shouto.”
It had taken a bit of practice to master the voice, but he knew he’d finally gotten it down when he’d tried it on his bakery coworker, Shinsou (the one who’d set him up with this side job in the first place, and had shown him the ropes), and he’d blushed from the collar of his shirt to the brim of his work visor. His usual poker face had melted into a rare smile, and, still flushed red, he’d declared Shouto ready to start taking calls.
Speaking of that.
“I’m so glad you called,” Shouto went on smoothly. “Tell me, who do I have the pleasure of speaking to this evening?”
He used to cringe every time he had to say that line. Now, though, he was completely unfazed, not even blinking as he filled in the answer for 28-down on his crossword puzzle ( chaste – the irony).
“Oh, Jesus, okay. Right into it, then,” the man on the other end of the line chuckled.
His voice was warm, like he was smiling as he spoke, and his answer caught Shouto by surprise. Shouto huffed a small chuckle of his own into the speaker before he could suppress it, but it was quiet enough that the guy wouldn’t hear. Probably.
The sound of a throat clearing met his ears, and then the man continued.
“I’m Hanta. It’s, uh, nice to meet you.”
“Hanta, huh? That’s a unique name. I like it,” Shouto replied easily. “It’s great to meet you, too.”
“Thanks, Shouto,” said Hanta. “That’s sweet of you.”
It still sounded like Hanta was smiling, like he was able to recognize the layer of humor in their present situation, despite being the one to put them in it, and it left Shouto with the bizarre (but undeniably comfortable) sensation of being in on an inside joke.
“So, Hanta, what can I do for you tonight?” he asked, practiced words lilting playfully on his tongue. “Or to you, of course.”
“Ah, that’s a good question, huh?” Hanta chuckled. “I suppose I don’t have anything too specific in mind…”
Shouto decided that Hanta had a nice voice. Deep, but gentle.
“That’s okay, I’ll help you figure it out,” he said quickly. “Is this your first time?”
“That obvious?” Hanta laughed.
“A little. Don’t worry, though. It’s cute.”
“You totally have to say that, don't you?”
Hanta’s voice was warm and teasing, and a surprised snort slipped from Shouto’s lips at the question.
“No, I don’t,” he said honestly. “But… I have found that it helps.”
Hanta laughed, too, right into his speaker. It came through a little breathy, and Shouto liked the sound of that, as well.
“I bet,” Hanta said. “Sorry – I don’t mean to ruin the mood or anything. I guess I’m a bit nervous.”
Shouto hummed. “That’s okay. The candidness is a nice change of pace,” he admitted. “But you don’t need to be nervous. I want to make you feel good, Hanta.”
There was a soft intake of breath on the other end of the line.
“Right. Okay,” Hanta murmured. Then, another airy chuckle sounded into the speaker. “Oh god, you’re – you’re really good at this, aren’t you?” he asked, as if he’d realized a second too late that he’d had exactly the reaction that Shouto had intended. He sounded preemptively overwhelmed, and it had Shouto’s lip quirking as he scanned his crossword puzzle.
This Hanta guy was funny.
“Why don’t you let me show you just how good?” Shouto purred back, without missing a beat.
(He internally commended himself on what months of practice had done for his witty-response time.)
Hanta laughed again. “By all means, please do,” he said warmly.
Shouto bit down on his grin, knocking the tip of his pencil against his desk a few times and humming as he thought.
Hanta said he didn’t have anything specific that he wanted, but Shouto wasn’t sure he bought that. The guy sounded young enough, and while Shouto couldn’t comment on his looks, his easy-going charisma was clear even through the phone.
In Shouto’s experience, guys like that didn’t call without a reason.
“So, you have no idea what you want me to do to you, huh?” he started, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice. “I have a bit of a hard time believing that, Hanta… with a voice like yours? And a good sense of humor? I bet you’re attractive, too… I think you could easily go out and find someone to take home.”
A soft huff of flustered laughter rang through his headphones.
“So... why call me, then?” Shouto pushed. “Don’t play coy.”
He heard a slight hitch of breath on the other end of the line. Bingo. When he spoke again, he replaced his playful tone with something more authoritative.
“Tell me, Hanta – what do you really want from me?”
Nothing, for a long beat of silence. And then–
“I want you to take me.” The words were slurred together, like he’d pushed them all out on a rushed exhale before he could take them back. “I–I don’t care how, just– I want it rough.”
Shouto’s eyebrows rose. He blinked at his half-finished crossword puzzle.
I want it rough.
Slowly, he set down his pencil.
That… that was so far left-field of his usual experience – calling men twice his age ‘master’ and ‘sir’, describing his feet in vivid detail, narrating to supposedly straightlaced businessmen how much better he could fuck their wives than they could – that it took him a second to switch gears.
Hanta mistook his silence for something else. “I – uh – if that’s okay, of course?” he added, sounding a bit hesitant.
“Of course that’s okay, baby,” Shouto assured him, slipping quickly back into his role. If he wasn’t mistaken, he heard a soft noise at the pet name, and he couldn’t help the way his mouth twitched up into an amused smirk. Cute. “I just wasn’t expecting that from you, is all.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
Shouto could hear the sudden uncertainty in his voice. He hummed, stretching out the moment on purpose.
“Well…” he said lowly. “I just thought you were going to be my good boy, Hanta.”
“Oh– o-oh. ”
Shouto chuckled lightly into the phone speaker. “But maybe… maybe you’re not a very good boy, are you?”
Hanta let out an airy sound. Shouto could hear the rustle of fabric, as if he were shaking his head ‘no’. Shouto carried on without waiting for a verbal answer.
“I think you might secretly be my slutty boy,” he ventured, and was rewarded with a soft moan spilling into the speaker. “Is that right? Tell me, Hanta.”
“Shit, y-yeah…”
“That’s what I thought… maybe all you really want is to be shoved against a wall and fucked so hard that you can feel my cock for days afterward?”
“Fuck, Shouto, please,” Hanta gasped. “Please fuck me – don’t hold back.”
Shouto ignored the interested twitch his cock gave at the sound of his own name, and translated Hanta’s request into what he really meant.
“You really are a slut, huh? Just want me to use you, yeah? Slam inside and fuck you full of come?”
“Please —”
“Maybe—” Shouto started to say, but then a groan sounded on the other end that could only mean one thing.
Shouto paused, arching a brow at his crossword puzzle.
“Sh-Shouto?” Hanta asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Are you touching yourself already ?” Shouto asked, his tone turning authoritative again. “Couldn’t even wait for my permission?”
Hanta sucked in a sharp breath. “S-sorry! I’ll stop – I-I didn’t realize…”
The corner of Shouto’s lip twitched. It was kind of cute that despite his claim of wanting it rough, Hanta clearly did want to be a good boy for him.
“Didn’t realize what, Hanta?” he said in a quiet tone, one that dared Hanta to make an excuse. When Shouto was met with only the sound of a rough swallow, he smirked. “Good. Do I need to remind you who owns you, sweetheart?”
“Oh, god,” Hanta panted. “You– you do.”
“That’s right, my horny boy. You’re all mine, tonight.”
A low whimper sounded through the phone. “I’m yours,” Hanta parroted, and his voice was so sweet and obedient that Shouto couldn’t help the groan that slipped from his own lips. He shifted in his seat.
“Do you have lube, Hanta?”
“Yes,” came the immediate answer, and Shouto heard shuffling. “I-I’ve got it right here.”
“Good. You don’t need it yet, but I want it ready.”
“Okay,” Hanta said, breathy.
Shouto smiled. “Now tell me, Hanta, what are you wearing?”
“Um… just–just sweatpants.”
“You didn’t even get your pants off, earlier?” Shouto tsked. “Just shoved your hand right in? How desperate…”
Hanta gasped in his ear.
“Shouto…” he whined softly, and Shouto could practically hear his hips bucking up against nothing.
Degradation kink: check.
“Alright, baby,” Shouto cooed. “Go ahead and take them off for me, yeah?”
Again, the shuffling on the other end came quickly, as if Hanta were rushing to follow his instructions.
“Okay,” Hanta breathed a moment later. “I-I’m ready for you.”
The last few words were so quiet Shouto just barely caught them, like despite everything, Hanta was still shy saying them. Shouto groaned lightly into the speaker.
“You look even more amazing like this than I expected,” he praised, before remembering that he was supposed to be filling the role of an aggressive dom. It was a little difficult when his partner was so surprisingly sweet.
Oh, well. Judging by Hanta’s whine, he didn’t mind all that much.
Still, though, Shouto should probably try to give him what he asked for.
“Yeah? You like it when I tell you how good you look, Hanta-baby?”
A stuttering, drawn-out gasp met his ear in lieu of a response.
Praise kink: also check.
“I think you’d look even better with my cock down your throat, don’t you?”
Hanta cried out at that. “Oh, fuck– Shouto– please –”
“I want you to bring two fingers up to that pretty mouth and suck for me,” Shouto cut him off. “Slide them in slowly, all the way back to the last knuckle. Can you do that, my slutty little boy?”
He could tell Hanta was following his instructions by the muffled quality of the groan that sounded through his headphones. When Hanta’s fingers hit the back of his throat, he coughed around them, and Shouto felt his own cock pressing insistently against his zipper. He reached down and popped his button open, sighing at the immediate relief.
“That’s a good boy,” he breathed. “Can you take another?”
“Mmmhm.”
“One more, then, baby,” he directed. At Hanta’s gagging noise, he added, “You like the feeling of my cockhead stretching your throat, huh, baby?”
Hanta’s response was a wet, desperate whine, stifled around three fingers. Shouto swore under his breath, slowly letting down his zipper and pressing the heel of his palm to his erection. He’d never even gotten hard with a customer before, let alone done anything sexual on his end, but the noises Hanta was making were absolutely sinful.
Still, touching himself would be unprofessional.
“Of course you do, my horny boy,” Shouto said, and his voice came out breathier than he’d intended. “Now, I want you to spread your legs and use your other hand to prep that tight little hole for me. Use lots of lube.”
“Mmm– Mmmhm!” Hanta moaned emphatically into the speaker, and Shouto bit his lip.
“If you do a good job, I’ll even fuck your face while you work yourself open for my cock.”
A garbled, slick sound met his ears, one that sounded a bit like, “Oh, god.”
A few moments later, Hanta was whining around his fingers as he presumably pressed inside himself.
“Fuck, I bet you’re so tight,” Shouto groaned. “I can’t wait to fuck you. Press your pretty face down into the mattress and push inside. Make you take it all in one go – would you like that, my slutty little boy?”
“Ah– ah– ah! ” Hanta cried out, his hot, wet pants ringing through the line.
“God, of course you would. Hurry, baby, add another finger. I need to be inside you.” Hanta made a strangled noise as he complied, choking around the fingers in his mouth. “Good, good, fuck. You’re so hot, Hanta. I–I can’t hold back, shit– I’m gonna fuck your face now, sweetheart.”
There was a cough and the sound of Hanta gagging, and Shouto breathed a curse as he listened to him start fucking into his own throat with his fingers.
“Shit– you feel so good, so perfect,” Shouto said, ignoring the way his own cock was leaking precome through his briefs. He grit his teeth, and imagined Hanta (or, at least, generic stand-in hot guy) on his knees in front of him, imagined himself thrusting into his mouth. “God, look at you– just taking it– such a good, slutty baby– you want it so fucking bad, don’t you, baby boy– ah, fuck –”
Shouto pressed down on his erection for relief, and his hips bucked up against his hand of their own accord. He groaned out loud, but it came out as more of a growl through his clenched jaw. Flushing hard, he reminded himself that he needed to be professional. He just had to wait until Hanta finished and hung up.
Another wet noise, followed by a drawn-out gasp.
“I’m ready!” Hanta cried out, voice thick and hoarse from his own fingers fucking his throat. “Please, Shouto– please fuck me– need you so bad– so much– god, I need your cock–”
Now that his mouth was free, Hanta was babbling, not even taking a breath as he begged for Shouto.
“Oh, god, baby,” Shouto moaned as his pleas veered toward sobs. “Okay, okay. I’m gonna fuck you now, yeah? I want you to take your fingers out, then slowly press back inside. As many as you can fit.”
He listened to Hanta follow his orders, biting his lip at the choked sob that tumbled from Hanta’s lips as he pulled out.
“Good boy,” Shouto praised. “My little cockslut is so obedient.”
Hanta whined, but the sound cut off half-way through as he breached himself again.
“Fuck– baby– you feel amazing,” Shouto panted. “God, your tight little hole is just sucking my cock inside–”
“ Shouto –” Hanta gasped, and his voice broke on his name.
“Shit– you’re so hot. You have no idea what that mouth is doing to me, Hanta,” Shouto rasped. “I want you to fuck yourself hard, now, baby. Don’t hold back, and don’t stop until I give you permission.”
“God, yes, yes, yes– ” Hanta cried, and he didn’t wait to be told twice. His moans rang loud through the phone as he began fucking himself in earnest, cutting off abruptly each time he slammed back into himself, then starting over again as he pulled back out.
“Fuck, that’s right,” Shouto breathed. “Harder, Hanta. I’m gonna pound that perfect little hole so hard you won’t be able to come without thinking of me for months, my horny little boy.”
Hanta yelled out at that, loud enough that his poor neighbors would surely be able to hear him, though he didn’t seem to care. His moans were devolving into panted cries as he fucked himself on Shouto’s make-believe cock, sobs slipping out with increasing frequency.
“Pl– please!” Hanta gasped. “Come– fill– I–I need– I–”
Shouto felt heat spread over his chest. This guy’s mouth was unreal. “God, Hanta, I’m so close,” he groaned. “Bring a hand up to your neck and squeeze, just like I would – sides, not front. Keep fucking yourself. You like the way that feels, don’t you, slut?”
A winded gasp as Hanta cut off his own breathing. “Yes! O-oh god, I– I can’t– gonna–”
Shouto spat a curse through clenched teeth as his whole body throbbed with need. “Come for me, baby. Do it. Now.”
There was a choked cry on the other end, and then Hanta called out his name on a half-moan, half-whimper as he tipped over the edge. Shouto groaned, imagining come spurting from his flushed, untouched cock, splattering all over his chest and stomach.
He listened to him ride out his orgasm, little whines and sobs falling from his lips for a few minutes, until his breathing returned to normal. A short, slightly pained groan met his ears, and Shouto assumed that was Hanta removing his fingers from himself.
“Are you alright?” Shouto asked.
“Holy fuck,” Hanta chuckled into the speaker. The sound was breathy and satisfied. “More than alright. That was amazing.”
“Did you really come untouched?” Shouto said, unable to stop himself.
“Yeah, fuck... I guess I did, huh?”
“Wow,” Shouto breathed. His cock pulsed angrily in his underwear, and he closed his eyes, biting his tongue as he allowed himself to grab the length of it for a second of relief.
“‘Wow’ is right,” Hanta laughed, oblivious to Shouto’s situation. “I think I might be in love with you, dude.”
Shouto’s lips twitched into a grin, and he forced himself to pull his hand away. “You don’t even know me.”
“Shh, Shouto, let me have this,” Hanta teased. He made a soft noise that sounded like he was stretching, then sighed happily.
Shouto’s smile softened. “You should probably go get cleaned up.”
“Mmm, don’t wanna move,” Hanta replied easily. He sounded sleepy. “Five more minutes, yeah?”
“That’s not how it usually works,” Shouto chuckled, then bit his lip. Hanta’s relaxed charm was back in full swing now, making it hard to refuse him. With a mournful glance down at his own untouched cock, Shouto added, “But... it’s your money.”
Hanta groaned. “Ugh, right. Okay, three more minutes,” he decided.
“Yeah, okay,” Shouto agreed. “What do you want to talk about? Want me to tell you what a good boy you were?”
“Oh, god no,” Hanta laughed. “I definitely don’t have a high enough salary for where that would go.”
Shouto felt himself flushing a little, pleased. “Alright. What, then?”
“Hmm…” Shouto heard a rustle of fabric, and he could almost see Hanta rolling onto his stomach to think. He wondered if he’d used something to wipe away his come, or if he’d just resigned himself to washing his sheets. “Oh! Can I ask questions about the phone sex gig? I’m kinda curious, but if you don’t like talking about it, I’ll think of something else.”
“I don’t mind,” Shouto replied. “It’s just work.”
“Awesome,” Hanta said, and Shouto could practically see the grin on his face. “So, like, what do you do while you work, you know? I assume you’re not actually jerking off over there.”
Shouto chuckled. “If I tell you, is it going to ruin the illusion for you? I was rather hoping you’d call again.”
“Fuck no, are you kidding me?” Hanta laughed. “That was some of the best sex I’ve had in so long, dude, and it was just with my fingers! Next time, I’ll be smart enough to get a toy out beforehand.”
Shouto’s cock pulsed another bead of precome, and he bit down on a groan. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Great.” Hanta sounded genuinely happy, and it made Shouto’s cheeks warm. “So, what do you do, like, during ? Video games? Gardening? Contemplate the inevitable downfall of capitalism?”
Shouto laughed. “I mostly just bake. And I do a lot of crossword puzzles.”
“Oh, sick, you can bake? That’s awesome! Did you make anything tonight while we were talking?”
Shouto shook his head, biting his lip to stop it from pulling into a grin. What kind of guy wanted to pay for phone sex, only to shatter the whole fantasy for himself right afterward?
“Sort of. I put cinnamon rolls in the oven right before you called, so you technically had my full attention,” he explained. “Actually, I couldn’t even focus on my crossword.”
Hanta laughed at that.
“Oh man, you know how to flatter a guy, Shouto,” he teased. “Also, ugh, I’m so jealous. I’m pretty sure one of my neighbors is making cinnamon rolls, too – I can smell them all the way in my bedroom and it’s making me so hungry. Is the universe punishing me for spending half my paycheck on a phone sex line?”
As if on cue, Shouto heard his stomach growl. He huffed a laugh.
“I’m sorry to bring it up, then. Maybe you should make yourself some food, after this.”
Hanta sighed dramatically, but Shouto could still hear his smile. “If only we all had your skills, Shouto. Alas, I can barely make toast without nearly burning down my building, so I’ll probably just pout for about five minutes until I pass the hell out from getting railed within an inch of my life.”
Shouto snorted, Hanta’s blunt answer taking him by surprise. He started to reply, but then the timer for his cinnamon rolls went off in his ear. Jumping, he hurried to click out of the alarm.
“Um, actually, it looks like my cinnamon rolls just got done, so I need to go take them out of the oven. I’ll go ahead and let you go so you can actually afford to call me back sometime, okay, Hanta?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for tonight. I really had a great time.”
Shouto blushed. “Yeah. I did, too.”
“I’ll pretend like you don’t have to say that,” Hanta laughed. “Talk to you soon, Shouto.”
“I really don’t. Goodnight, Hanta.”
The line went dead after that. Shouto stood, then winced as he remembered how hard he still was. With a groan, he tucked himself into the waistband of his sweats and hurried into the kitchen to save his cinnamon rolls from burning. After tossing them haphazardly onto the stovetop to cool, he bolted back to his bedroom, shoving his hand into his briefs and flopping onto his mattress as he began replaying Hanta’s cries and pleas from earlier in his head.
He finished so quickly that when he returned to the kitchen to frost his cinnamon rolls, the pan was still too hot to touch.
* * *
Sero pulled his front door shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway, quietly whistling a tune to himself and twirling his keys in hand. He spun on his heel to lock his apartment, just barely resisting the urge to do a little dance as he did so – he felt great. Not even his 7:30 am commitment to helping Denki move into his new place could put a damper on his spirits. Not after last night.
Sero jumped in surprise when the door to the apartment next to him suddenly burst open. He blinked, hand pausing halfway through turning his key, as he watched his neighbor exit his apartment in a flurry of long red and white hair, quickly shutting the door behind him with just a little too much force. He didn’t notice Sero as he stuffed whatever he was holding – it looked like some sort of pastry – into his mouth so he could pat down his pockets for his keys with both hands.
“Good morning, Todoroki,” Sero chuckled, arching a playful brow at his neighbor.
Todoroki started, whipping around to blink wide, mismatched eyes at him over his breakfast. Sero ignored the way his stomach fluttered. He could handle talking to the hot, mysterious guy next door without swooning. Maybe.
“Mph. Mo’n’ng, ’ero,” Todoroki said around his mouthful, fishing out his keys and locking his door with one hand as he removed the pastry with the other. He swallowed, then looked back at Sero, lip quirking just slightly. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here so early on a Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah. I got roped into–”
Sero’s eyes went wide as he cut himself off, taking in the pastry in Todoroki’s hand. He lifted a hand to point at it, and Todoroki’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“So you’re the cinnamon roll culprit,” Sero accused.
Todoroki blinked at him. “I’m the— what?”
Sero let out a laugh, letting his hand fall. “I was dying smelling those things at midnight last night. It should be illegal to do that to me after all the stores around here are closed, man.”
Todoroki chuckled softly, bringing his hand to his mouth to cover it. Cute.
“Sorry,” he said, and he at least seemed to partially mean it. “I work at a bakery. I practice at home sometimes. I was tweaking my recipe yesterday.”
Sero’s brows rose. “A bakery, huh? That’s pretty impressive. Well, judging by the smell, I’d say you’ve definitely perfected cinnamon rolls already.”
Todoroki shook his head ‘no’, but his cheeks went a little pink, and his lips curved upward just slightly as he tucked a stray piece of long hair behind his ear. “It still needs work.”
Sero opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get the words out, his phone started buzzing and ringing in his pocket.
“Ah, shit,” he cursed as he fished out his phone and silenced Kaminari’s call. “Sorry, I gotta run. We only have the moving truck for a few hours.”
“Okay. Bye, Sero.”
“Bye, Todoroki,” Sero said with a smile. “See you around.”
“See you,” Todoroki replied.
Sero was already turning in the opposite direction, quickly walking away, so he missed the way Todoroki’s eyes lingered on him as he went.
It was a shame, because that meant he didn’t see the small smile Todoroki allowed to curl briefly over his lips, either, before he, too, made his way out of the building.