Archive of Our Own

Spring was always Keigo’s favorite season. Especially late spring, right before summer comes barging in but when the nights are already warm enough for him to stay out late without a jacket. Tonight is one of those nights, when he can take his skateboard and cruise over pathways strewn with the last flakes of cherry blossoms, and nothing can sour his mood. Not even the knowledge that he’s gonna have to spend an evening with Todoroki, of all people.

He takes the next turn and slows down, refusing to hurry. Rich boy can wait for me, for once.

He couldn’t tell which one of them was more annoyed when the English teacher paired them up for the last class project before summer break. Keigo has known Todoroki since middle school and the jackass always had it out for him. He and his friends made fun of Keigo’s secondhand clothes, his cheap bike, and the fact that he only got into their swanky private school through financial aid, or the ‘charity case lottery’ as they called it.

Keigo didn’t pay them much mind. He kept his head down and focused on studying to prove he deserved to be there. It paid off when he graduated from middle school as number one in their entire grade, and landed a full ride to the best high school in the district.

Todoroki followed him to high school, but that was to be expected. Even if his grades weren’t as stellar as Keigo’s, his family’s name and wealth meant they could send him wherever they pleased. Not all of Todoroki’s asshole friends were as lucky, so once they were both in high school the social playing field was a little more level and bullying Keigo must have seemed less important. Keigo just gave the guy a wide berth those first two years and focused on his schoolwork.

To Keigo, his grades were an actual matter of life and death. Graduating UA at the top of his class was his golden ticket to a better life. He needed an impressive report card to snag a scholarship to college. It’s the only way he’ll ever escape his sordid family, and make something better of himself. 

Todoroki is his polar opposite in every regard. The guy has nothing in common with Keigo, as a trust fund baby who sleeps through math class, refuses to join any club or sports team, and only turns in his homework when he feels like it. Keigo is the star of the track and field team, he was top of their class in first and second year, and he’s on the student council. Todoroki has a disciplinary file as thick as his fist, whereas Keigo is every teacher’s favorite student.

Keigo is also the son of a neglectful mother and a violent bastard of a father who is currently doing eight years for armed robbery. That’s a little fun fact nobody knows. Especially not the son of police commissioner Todoroki Enji.

Todoroki is a lazy fuckup whereas you keep giving it your all, and he still has a better chance of going to college than you do. His last name will carry him through life, just like ‘Takami’ will always weigh you down.

Keigo clenches his jaw and speeds up until he can feel the wind in his hair, but it does fuckall to blow the nasty voice out of his head.

***

When Keigo hops up on the curb in front of the massive Todoroki family estate, he’s more than a little surprised to see a familiar figure waiting for him by the open gate. Tall, rail-thin, with a crown of shock-white dyed hair artfully shaped into spikes. 

(Todoroki is all sharp edges, so that’s nothing new. Even with the limitations of their school uniform, he finds ways to make himself look like a walking caution sign. Keigo has no idea how he consistently gets away with dress code violations like his painted nails and smudged eyeliner and nearly a dozen piercings, but he sure can guess. Must be nice to have a bulletproof family name like that.)

Keigo is only five minutes late, so it seems excessive for Todoroki to be outside looking for him, and there’s definitely no reason for him to look this mad already. Or maybe the scowl is just another accessory to match his stupid ripped jeans and studded jacket, now that he’s not limited to the uniform.

“Hi,” Keigo waves a cool but polite greeting. “Appreciate you waiting for me, but I could have found the door by myself.” He nods at the big house at the end of the driveway.

“Shut up and get in,” Todoroki barks at him. He clicks the button on a keyfob he’s holding. Behind him in the driveway, the taillights of his shiny black Camaro flash twice and the doors unlock.

Oh, that fucking car. Todoroki is actually a year older than Keigo. He was held back the year before he started middle school because of ‘health reasons’, so he was technically old enough to get his learner's permit last winter. Come the start of senior year, the asshole roared into the school parking lot in that hideously expensive beast of a car. He drives to school every day, and never mind that he lives closer than Keigo, who has to bike through rain and snow year-round.

Keigo hates that fucking car. No way is he getting in.

“Why?” he asks, clutching his skateboard like he’ll use it as a weapon if he needs to. “I came here to work on our project. If you wanted to go somewhere else, I could have met you there.”

Todoroki doesn’t answer, he just turns his back on Keigo and gets behind the wheel. The engine roars to life, as does the sound system. Todoroki’s taste in music is just as obnoxious as he is.

“What are you, deaf?” the jackass yells out the open window. “I said, get in!”

“And I asked you a question!” Keigo refuses to move. “Why?”

“Because we’re not staying here!”

Keigo is very tempted to take out one of the taillights with his foot, but that’s when he hears it. A distant voice booming over the rumbling engine and the angry guitars.

“Touya!”

It’s a man’s voice, and there is so much anger laced through it that Keigo’s eyes go wide. The front door of the house is open, and in the illuminated rectangle he sees the hulking outline of a man. In the side mirror, Todoroki flashes him a crazed grin.

“Last chance! Get in, or I’ll leave without you!”

Keigo hesitates until he sees the man in the doorway start running towards them. No fucking way is he dealing with that. Cursing, he yanks the passenger door open, chucks his backpack and his board in the footwell, and hops in. Todoroki throws the car in reverse and screeches out of the driveway on a trail of burned rubber.

While struggling to put his seatbelt on, Keigo looks up. Through the windshield, he catches a glimpse of the police chief’s face, right before Todoroki next to him gives the steering wheel a wild jerk and they careen through the gate out into the road. A passing car swerves around them, its horn screaming at them as it goes by.

Then, Todoroki rams the car into gear and speeds off.

***

“What was that about?” Keigo asks once his heart has stopped beating like a hummingbird’s wings. Todoroki drives like a maniac to match his taste in music, but once they’re out of his neighborhood he stops whipping around corners like he’s trying to outrun something. Now he’s driving only slightly above the speed limit.

“What, you never get into an argument with your old man?” Todoroki smirks at his own question but everything about him is tense and his knuckles are squeezed bone-white around the steering wheel.

“Not recently,” Keigo says dryly. He does not explain that it’s easy to stay out of arguments if your dad’s been locked up for the past three years.

“Lucky you.”

It comes out in such a demeaning way that Keigo can’t stop himself. He turns sideways in his seat.

“My dad isn't exactly around enough for me to pick fights with. Some of us don't have that luxury.”

He had hoped that would shut the asshole up without revealing too much, but all it gets him is a loud, humorless laugh.

“Oh no, poor baby! Wanna trade for mine?”

“I don’t know, does your dad come with a car, and a fat bank account I can drain, and guaranteed entry to the best schools where I can go and waste everyone’s time?” Keigo snaps back.

“He sure does,” Todoroki cackles over the sound of his stupid metal music. “What are your perks? Absent father? A poverty sob story for sympathy points? Main character hair and the unbearable weight of all those perfect report cards? Must be why you’re so uptight, but I'll still take it.”

“Okay, stop the car.” Keigo grabs for the door handle. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Takami,” Todoroki sighs at him. “You’re proving my point. Damn, always so serious.”

Keigo wants to deck him, but he knows better than to punch someone while they’re driving, so he hits the door instead.

“Fuck you! I never should have agreed to work with you! I’ll do the project by myself, and you can stay the fuck away from me for the rest of the year! God, you really haven't changed since fucking middle school.”

Todoroki shoots him a blank look and hits the brakes. They come to an abrupt stop in the middle of a quiet residential street.

“Then get out,” the asshole says in that infuriating lazy drawl. 

“I am getting out.” Keigo is so mad, his hands shake too much to unbuckle his seatbelt on the first try.

“But I sure hope you’re okay with failing this project, mister valedictorian,” Touya sing-songs at him. “Don’t forget, this is a two person job. We’re supposed to analyze and compare our favorite modern English poems and give a presentation on our findings. Can’t do that on your own.”

“I’m sure Yamada-sensei will understand that I’d rather do the project by myself than work with you.”

“Maybe. But you won’t get full marks regardless. That wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the class, now would it? They all followed the rules. Why should you get special treatment, just because you can't deal with being less than perfect?”  

Todoroki is still smiling at him, the fucking bastard. He's visibly enjoying Keigo's stress at the mere threat of a failing grade, but at the same time he tries to taunt him into staying in the car. There's a mad-dog glow in his eyes that’s even visible in the dim interior of the car, like he's trying to goad Keigo into making a stupid mistake so he can laugh at him again. The final piece of Keigo's fuse goes up in smoke.

“You’re the last person who gets to talk to me about special treatment, Todoroki! You don’t know me!” Keigo explodes. He hits the radio power button to shut off the godawful music. “You buy your way into good schools, while I have to work my ass off every single day just to be allowed to stay! I need every grade I get, because I don’t get to coast like you do! If I pulled even a fraction of the shit you have, I would have been expelled a long time ago! You get everything handed to you thanks to your rich cop daddy and your last name!” He gasps for air, shaking with anger. “I’m not taking your shit anymore. I’ll figure something out for my project. So fuck off with your tantrum, let me out of this death trap of a car, and go back to your mansion, you spoiled selfish bitch!”

Todoroki moves, and for a second Keigo thinks he’s gonna hit him. He brings his arms up to defend himself, but Todoroki only switches on the overhead light. In the yellow glow, Keigo finally gets a good look at his face. There’s an angry red mark blooming over his right cheekbone. Come morning, the side of his face will be bruised purple.

It’s a cheap trick, to show someone something awful just to shut them up and get one over on them. At the sight, Keigo feels himself recoil from everything, even his own anger. But it’s not just the fresh bruise. It’s that all too familiar look in Todoroki's eyes.

Keigo isn’t stupid. In an instant, he understands why Todoroki shows up to school sporting bruises and black eyes so often, and the whiplash makes him nauseous. Takami Sr. may have been a bastard, but at least he wasn’t dumb enough to go for Keigo’s face. If your kid keeps showing up to school with visible injuries, eventually someone will call CPS on your ass.

Except if it’s the police commissioner’s delinquent son, apparently.

Keigo stares at his bruised face in silence. Eventually Todoroki flicks the overhead light off again.

“Got that out of your system?” he asks coolly. “Because I’d like to get to our destination and get started on our project, if that’s okay with you. So fucking relax.”

After a moment, Keigo sighs and re-fastens his seatbelt. Todoroki puts the car in gear again and speeds off, while Keigo stares out the side window with his arms crossed.

Minutes go by. Todoroki switches the radio back on, but he cuts the volume by about half. They don’t speak until they leave the suburbs and hit the main road.

“If you dare say you’re sorry, I’ll kick you out on the freeway without pulling over,” Todoroki says without averting his eyes from the road. Keigo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Like hell is he gonna feel sorry for the bastard. It’s not as if Keigo asked to know this about him. Normal people keep their misery a secret, especially from the people they hate.

After another minute of strained silence, he adds,

“I won’t tell anyone. But you’re still an ass.”

Todoroki laughs.

“Yeah, I know.”

***

Todoroki drives them to the outer limits of the city, to a big public park. A friendly sign by the entrance of the driveway, next to an out-of-order traffic gate with the barrier wide open, informs them of the opening hours, which are long over. Not that it stops Todoroki.

At the end of the giant empty parking lot he just keeps going, and steers his Camaro over the curb and into the greenery. Keigo grabs the car’s oh-shit handle, uncaring for the mocking chuckle Todoroki directs at him for it. Apparently he has been here before, because he hobbles through the darkness with complete confidence, until he pulls up under a canopy of trees overlooking the water. In the rear view mirror, Keigo can just spot the edge of the parking lot.

“Why here?” he asks.

“Because no one comes here at this hour.”

“Yeah, probably because it’s closed.” Keigo turns in his seat to peer through the back window. “There was a sign at the entrance. I think this is trespassing.”

Todoroki grins at him. His eyes light up with the closest thing to true amusement Keigo has seen on his face all night.

“Scared? Who’s the bitch now?”

Keigo rolls his eyes at the taunt, but he can’t deny the shiver that skates down his spine. Maybe that has something to do with how Todoroki’s white hair and sharp smile reflects the light from the dashboard, making him look like a demon emerging from the shadows. When he cuts the engine and the entire car goes dark and quiet, his face stays burned on Keigo’s retinas like an afterimage.

Instead of answering, Keigo flicks on the overhead light without asking and rummages through his backpack by his feet.

“Did you at least bring your poem?” He opens his English folder and pulls out the handout with the assignment. He leaves the printout of his own poem inside, for now. No way is he going first.

Todoroki unbuckles his seatbelt and pushes out of his seat, arching over the middle console to rummage through his bag in the back seat. His shirt rides up, exposing a pale strip of stomach and the waistband of his underwear. Keigo averts his eyes and undoes his own seatbelt.

In case he pulls a stunt and I need to get out quickly. And then skate for two hours to get back home. Goddamnit, I should have gotten out of this car when I had the chance.

When Todoroki drops back into his seat, he’s holding two crumpled sheets of paper.

“I considered Howl, but I didn’t want to see you destroyed by madness if you had to analyze all that, Birdie.”

He ignores the Ginsberg reference for a moment, his mind snagging on that name . Birdie is Keigo’s nickname from track and field, because he was the shortest and fastest person on the team when he joined freshman year. After he came in second place at their first district race, coach said, Was that running or flying? I didn’t know you were part bird. One of the older guys called him Birdie, and the name stuck.

The team still calls him Birdie, but they never say it like that. Anything out of Todoroki’s mouth sounds like a joke Keigo isn’t in on. He didn’t even think the asshole was aware of his nickname, since Todoroki isn’t exactly involved in school sports. He hopes the interior of the car is too dim for his surprised flush to be seen.

Goddamn, but praise whatever deity decided to cut him a break and steered Todoroki away from Ginsberg. He’s aware that Howl has a lot of sexual references, and he is quietly relieved he won’t have to analyze lines like “who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy” in front of their entire English class, holy shit. He likes poetry, but not that much.

“Ha-ha.” He decides against bouncing the reference back and calling Todoroki an angel-headed hipster, because he probably wouldn’t even take it as an insult. “So what did you pick?”

Todoroki unfolds a creased piece of notebook paper scribbled with lines and flattens it against his thigh.

“Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.”

Keigo raises his eyebrows. He reminds himself that Todoroki is actually decent at English, compared to every other class they have together. Still, he didn’t expect him to have a real answer, let alone have it handwritten. He wonders if it’s possible that Todoroki knows his poem by heart, and if he’s about to see the most infamous slacker in school show actual interest in his homework. If that’s the case, Keigo might still get his A and even take minimal psychic damage along the way.

“Dylan Thomas almost makes too much sense for you,” he huffs.

“Thank you,” Todoroki replies.

“Not a compliment.”

“Then don’t say it like that.” The motherfucker has the audacity to wink. Keigo takes back the part about ‘minimal psychic damage.’

“Okay, so step one of the assignment: read it out.” He gestures as if he’s directing him to a spotlight, then leans back in his seat and folds his arms across his chest.

He expects Todoroki to argue that, since he picked a well-known poem, there’s no need for him to read it aloud. But Todoroki seems determined to keep throwing curveballs tonight. With one deep inhale, he starts to read.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

He does not stumble or stutter. He weaves through the words and rhythm with the ease of someone who truly understands what he’s saying. Someone for whom the words are more than just ink on paper.

Line after line bores into Keigo’s skin, until it chases a shiver through him and he can’t physically look away from Todoroki anymore. He has never heard someone say the word meteors like it’s a prayer, or maybe a lover’s name.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight 

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

There’s a hitch in his voice when he reaches the last stanza, a tremble of emotion that could be anger or sadness or something even deeper. Todoroki doesn’t shy away from it, but instead pours it into his voice with naked ferocity, almost begging for… something. Every hair on Keigo’s arms stands on end.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

When Todoroki is done, Keigo doesn’t know what to say for a few seconds. The world spins on a different axis than it did a minute ago, and he can feel the gravity in his stomach. He tries to steady himself with a deep breath so he can get the words out.

“You… You have a good reading voice. And your English accent is-” Keigo attempts to swallow, but his mouth stays dry. “Very good,” he concludes his weak attempt at a compliment. What else is he supposed to say? That was the most beautiful and brutal thing I’ve ever witnessed. Who the fuck are you, and will you show me again?

“Thanks, professor,” Todoroki scoffs. He pulls out the assignment paper with an exaggerated motion. “So let’s see… What is your first impression of your partner’s chosen poem?” And he leans towards Keigo with fake anticipation.

“Obviously I already knew it-” Keigo starts.

“Because you’re so smart,” Todoroki interrupts him.

“-but I like the emphasis you put on rage. The power and simultaneous powerlessness made it special. I’ve never heard anyone read it like that.”

Oh. That shut him up. Blue eyes blink at Keigo in surprise. Slowly, Todoroki leans back until he’s sitting as far away from him as possible, back pressed against the door. He pulls his legs up and braces a foot against the middle console, his entire body an obstacle between them. He jerks his chin, Go on then.

“It’s a poem about a death that comes too soon,” Keigo continues slowly, trying to spot any sign of emotion on Todoroki’s face, “And living on for as long as you can, even in the face of adversity. About how we shouldn’t just live and die peacefully.”

“It’s a plea against complacency,” Todoroki interjects. Keigo doesn’t say how they’re not supposed to give their own interpretation until after their partner is done, and just lets him talk. “It tells you to be loud until the very end. And that dying isn’t something to be welcomed, nor feared. But it should still matter, because in death you lose everything that has value.”

Todoroki speaks with such urgency, like there’s something on fire in the pit of his stomach. Keigo stares at him, and wonders. He decides to follow his hunch, grabs the thread dangling from Todoroki’s words, and starts to pull.

“Yes, but who are you pleading to? The text addresses the speaker’s father in the end, and asks him to not give in to death just yet. But you…”

Keigo doesn’t know where he’s going with this, but he lets the words roll out of his mouth as they rise to the surface,

“You didn’t change the words, but you changed the meaning with how you spoke. There’s more spite and challenge in it when you read it. That’s what made it personal.” 

When Todoroki goes completely still, Keigo hauls him all the way in and strikes. He doesn’t think he’s trying to hurt him, but he sure wants to see if he can touch something real for a second. He wants to feel that heat on his own skin.

“And when you ask the father to bless or curse you, it really does sound like you’ll take either, as long as he’ll look at you from up on his sad height. You speak as the light, and you want him to rage against losing you.”

Keigo stares at Todoroki’s frozen expression, with his fists clenched and trembling from sick excitement. That last part was a gamble, and probably an unfair hit infused with everything he has learned about Todoroki tonight, but that’s what makes it effective. He has never won a round against the bastard. It makes Keigo's head spin to see him pierced to his core.

If he's ever gonna punch me, this is it.

Keigo flinches when Todoroki breathes out shakily and pinches the bridge of his nose. A wet little chuckle breaks the silence.

“Fuck you, Takami,” he laughs. 

Keigo watches as Todoroki gathers himself. He’s eager to hear him speak again, to watch this strange person emerge from the cocoon of a boy he has hated since middle school. It’s impossible to not look at him.

Fuck you too, Todoroki. 

“There’s a lot of different types of light in the symbolism,” Todoroki says after a long pause. “Light is life, love, change. Light is what we lose in the end, because death and darkness are inevitable and unchanging.” 

He drops his hands in his lap and lifts his head, not to look Keigo in the eye but to stare up at the roof of the car. He’s smiling, but the edges are strained. His voice sounds like shards of glass.

“I especially like the meteor, the idea that even in that most vast darkness, there can be a final flash of light. We can all blaze like meteors before we go out. Even if no one watches our glow.”

Keigo feels like an intruder in this sudden moment of painful honesty, and yet he can’t let go of the sight. It’s the realest moment of his goddamn life.

Todoroki clears his throat and says,

“I showed you mine, now you show me yours. What’s your poem, Birdie?”

As if stung, Keigo opens his folder and pulls his own poem out. Because he has to, and because fair’s fair. And he can’t just sit here staring at Todoroki until the sun comes up.

“Warsan Shire’s The Unbearable Weight Of Staying.”

Todoroki doesn’t give a sign of recognition, he just waves him on. Keigo takes a breath. He doesn’t have Todoroki’s clean, private-tutoring English accent, but like hell is he going to back down.

He mirrors Todoroki’s pose, twisting sideways until he has the door at his back. He doesn’t dare to put his shoes on the leather seats, but he does fold his knee under himself to make the space he occupies feel smaller and more secure.

I don’t know when love became elusive

What I know, is that no one I know has it.

His voice shakes. Todoroki leans forward and cocks his head at him like a curious cat.

My father's arms around my mother's neck,

Fruit too ripe to eat, a door half way open.

When your name is a just a hand I can never hold,

everything I have ever believed in, becomes magic.

He fights his way through the words father and mother, and he thinks that maybe Todoroki notices because he exhales softly, almost a chuckle. Keigo’s ears glow.

I think of lovers as trees, growing to and

from one another, searching for the same light.

Right there. Todoroki holds his breath like he got punched.

Keigo tries his best to keep his attention on the words, because he truly loves this poem, but he keeps getting distracted by the guy sitting across from him, studying him like he is a riddle solving itself. He’s flaying Keigo’s skin off with his too-blue eyes.

He tries to match his emotions to the words, to find the rhythm, but he stumbles a few times. His voice cracks on the last line,

I let you leave, I need someone who knows how to stay.

When he’s done, they sit in silence for a moment until Todoroki reaches for his paper. Keigo lets him take it. He watches as he skims over the words once, and then again, more slowly.

“That’s a good one,” he says at long last, and he doesn’t even sound sarcastic.

“Yeah,” Keigo nods dumbly, then clears his throat. “Your first impression?”

“It’s about love. About wanting to love and be loved, but not feeling like it’s within reach.”

When those bright eyes suckerpunch him with how knowing they look, Keigo realizes his fuckup. 

“You also gave it a personal twist, like you accused me of doing. The author has hope, however bittersweet. They yearn for something they saw their parents have, and now they’re reaching for something that feels like the highest bar, which makes them feel mortal and unworthy. But you put a spin on the reference of the parents. The arm around the neck became sinister.” 

Keigo shudders. He didn’t think it had been that noticeable.

“You don’t believe you’ll find real love because you have never seen it. You put emphasis on ‘growing from one another and searching for the same light’, making it sound like love is a parasite that leaves you hollow like a dead tree.” Todoroki’s mouth ticks up at the corner, but it lacks the serrated edge of his usual smirk. “The only hopeful moment is you letting them leave at the end, letting go of what doesn’t serve you. But you read the whole thing like you don’t believe you’ll ever find someone who will stay.”

Silence. Blood pounding in his ears. The earth pirouettes on her new axis, faster and faster. It steals the air out of the car. His chest tightens. He thinks of his mother, his father, and little Keigo disappearing in the darkness spilling out from them. Forever trapped in the shadow of the two dead trees that made him, their roots slowly strangling him, no matter how far they run from each other.

“I…” Keigo starts, then chokes on his own breath.

Whatever he wanted to say, drowns in a desperately restrained, shuddering breath. What else is there to do, when someone you thought you hated is the first person to ever truly see you?

Across from him, Todoroki sniffles and rubs at his eyes.

“Well,” he laughs, sounding a little closer to his familiar self again. “Now neither of us are beating the traumatized little bitch allegations.”

“Can you not be an asshole for two minutes?” Keigo sighs and brushes his hands over his glowing face. 

“Can you loosen up, you goddamn stick-in-the-mud?”

They sit in the quiet of this new world for a bit, both leaning against the door so they don’t touch the emptiness between them. It keeps inviting them in, ready to be filled with curious possibilities, but neither of them seems prepared to move first. Keigo stares at Todoroki’s face like he’s seeing him for the first time. When he shifts, the dim overhead light skates across his bruised face.

“Does it happen a lot?” Keigo asks, gesturing at his own cheek. 

It should be wildly inappropriate, since it’s not like they’re friends, but they did just cry about poetry in a parked car together at night, and sort-of bonded about shitty dads. So maybe he’s allowed this one little transgression. A fucked-up attempt at reaching across the chasm. Todoroki barks out a laugh.

“Only when I give him a reason.”

“What does he consider a reason?”

“Lately? Me being gay,” he shrugs.

…

Oh.

Oh?

Keigo does his best to not let it show on his face that his heart just tripped up and down his ribcage like the Penrose steps.

“That sucks,” he says, which gets him another chuckle.

“Sucks that I’m gay?” Todoroki smirks.

“Sucks that your dad’s a bastard,” Keigo corrects him.

“Yeah. Still wanna trade?”

Keigo takes a deep breath before offering an actual trade for everything Todoroki threw at his feet tonight.

“My dad’s in jail.” He stares at his hands as he says it, jaw set tight. He has never admitted it out loud to anyone before. “I’ll be off at college before he gets out. He’ll never lay a hand on me again. My mother won’t have to suffer the sight of me anymore, or pretend to care. I’ll have a life of my own.”

Todoroki whistles.

“Damn. So that’s why you’re so uptight about schoolwork.” 

Keigo nods and looks up.

“College is my way out, and a scholarship is my only chance. I have to make it.”

“What do you want to study?” Todoroki asks. Now, that question makes Keigo smile.

“Marine biology,” he says. “I love the ocean. I want to move to Australia, help save the coral reefs.”

“How noble of you,” Todoroki grins. Keigo is finally starting to understand his tone and knows that it’s meant to be teasing. Something warm claws up his ribcage.

“What about you?” he asks in return.

“My dad wants me to go to law school.” A shrug.

“That’s not what I asked,” Keigo volleys back. Todoroki shoots him a flat glare before relenting.

“Literature and creative writing. That’s all I really like.” He gestures at the poetry homework. “But there’s no respectable career in it, so it’ll never happen.”

Keigo thinks he should be more surprised, but after tonight the answer makes perfect sense.

“I assumed your family didn’t care about your schooling. You sure seem like you don’t care.”

“What’s the point? My old man will pay my way into college regardless. Doesn’t mean I have to make it easy for him. And maybe the stress of my abysmal transcript and disciplinary file will push him into an early grave.” 

Todoroki laughs, hollow and bitter this time, as he points to the steering wheel.

“He even got me this fucking car so he could hold it over my head. Just another thing he’ll take away if I don’t fall in line. ” He starts to count on his fingers, putting them down one by one. 

“Go to law school, get that high-level law enforcement career he wants for me, marry a rich girl from a good family, carry on his legacy, stop being a goddamn queer. Or else.” When he’s done counting, he holds up a closed fist and grins at Keigo, looking halfway demonic again. “Hey, do you think your dad knows someone who will whack my dad?”

Keigo lets out a shocked laugh. It would be jarring if it came from anyone else, but Todoroki, it seems, is just like this. Something in him is starting to enjoy the constant push and pull.

“I’ll call and ask him,” Keigo chuckles. “It’ll cost you a decent chunk of your inheritance, though.”

“Worth it.”

For a moment Todoroki looks like he wants to say something else, but then something catches his eye outside the car. He reaches up to turn off the overhead light, plunging the car into darkness.

“Look.” He points. “Fireflies.”

Keigo leans forward across the dashboard, and he’s right: in the tall grass down the slope, little yellow-green specks of light move in a slow dance through the evening air.

“They’re early for the season,” Keigo whispers. “But it has been a warm spring.”

“Yeah.”

Keigo glances to the side when he catches the melancholic edge to Todoroki’s voice, but he’s staring straight ahead at the fireflies so Keigo follows his example. He lets the lights hypnotize him until Todoroki speaks again.

“He hates me because I’m a failure. He molded me for a purpose, and I don’t fit any of it, no matter how hard I tried to gain his approval when I was younger. My being gay is just the proverbial last straw.” 

Another humorless laugh. Keigo decides he doesn’t like the sound. “He’s disgusted by the sight of me, and pissed that I foiled his perfect plan. But he still won’t stop trying to beat me into something useful, something less embarrassing. He can’t accept that I don’t want his goddamn legacy anymore.”

Keigo's pulse jumps, like his heart is trying to leap out of his body and crash into Todoroki and drag him all the way down the firefly-dotted slopes.

Yeah, me too, but what if we didn’t have to? What if I didn’t have to be as hollow as my parents, and what if you didn’t have to let anyone break you?

Keigo shrugs shakily. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not exactly planning on carrying on my family legacy either. Takami is an anchor around my neck. I’m getting rid of that name at the first opportunity.”

Oh, he can feel it happening. He's gonna go to pieces over this jackass, isn't he?

Todoroki chuckles, “You should get married and take your wife’s name. Easy.”

It was probably supposed to come out teasing. It didn’t.

Keigo was supposed to laugh along, but instead he slumps backwards as his brain whirrs into overdrive. Slowly, he reaches for a last thread floating between them and carefully winds it around his fingers.

When he twists sideways, Todoroki meets his eyes in silence. He’s splayed out in his seat, head turned in Keigo’s direction, and inch by inch he tips over into the no man’s land between them. 

Keigo’s hands are shaking. Cheek pressed against the leather of the seat, he gets as close as he dares to go. Todoroki gets in his face, staring him down like he's taunting Do something. But they're not in middle school anymore.

There's a hand on his collar. He can feel Todoroki's spiked-up hair brush against his forehead, softer than he imagined. Keigo leans forward, and his whole chest flutters when he hears the little gasp of surprise. He closes his eyes.

“Touya…”

The whisper of his given name, boldly stolen, makes him move. Before they can close the distance, Touya scrambles upright and then wrestles himself between their seats, into the backseat.

“Get in the back,” he grunts as he falls through.

“Why?” Keigo asks, knowing full well where this is going, but he wants to hear it. He yelps when Touya grabs his collar again and starts to pull him along.

“Because I’m gonna kiss you, and the middle console is in my way.”

Keigo follows, squirming over the dark leather until he lands half on top of a boy who wants to kiss him. He tries to catch his breath or say something witty, but then there's a mouth on his.

Keigo has only ever kissed girls and never considered boys as a viable option. Feeling the difference now, as stark as a drizzle versus a downpour, he might have been an oblivious fool.

Or maybe it’s just that he didn’t consider anyone a real option, because there are too many rules and no time. But Touya isn’t one to care about either. He grabs what he can. Keigo never expected that a rich boy could be even more starved than he was. 

He definitely didn't expect tongue either, or that he'd like it this much.

“You’re shaking, Birdie,” Touya teases as he wraps his arms around Keigo’s neck and pulls him closer. The tip of his tongue flicks at Keigo's bottom lip. “Nervous?”

“Aren’t you?” Keigo wheezes. They end up with Touya on his back, his stupid long legs splayed everywhere, so Keigo has no choice but to crouch between his thighs and balance himself on his hands, one braced against the side of the car, one on the leather cushion of the seat.

“Terrified.” From this close, Keigo can see the pink flush spreading across Touya’s usually indifferent face. “It’s not every day that I get to kiss the hottest nerd in our grade.”

“Shut up,” Keigo chuckles. He somehow finds the nerve to run his nose along Touya’s. “If the goth girls were to find out that you’re gay, they’d declare a week of mourning.” 

His stupid joke makes Touya laugh, loud and giddy. Oh. This is the sound he wants to hear.

“Oh no, the delicate ecosystem of our high school! Ruined by Gay Kisses! Save us, biologist Takami!”

“If you’re gonna keep kissing me, you can at least call me by my first name.”

That gets him a smirk, and a hand pulling on his hair to close the last distance, and a whispered,

“Keigo.”

It’s not how he remembers kissing, or maybe Keigo is out of practice. He remembers the soft mouth of a nervous girl who didn’t even dare touch him. Touya, on the other hand, is a very straightforward kisser.

His hands are warm and a little rough in Keigo’s hair. The tug makes Keigo open his mouth wider. Their lips slide around each other like they still can't let the other win. Their teeth bump, cushioned through their lips and almost on the verge of painful, and it makes Touya inhale sharply and grab on even tighter.

Keigo can’t touch him back, not with the way he’s keeping himself balanced over Touya. He’s scared to crush him or roll off the seat. All he can do is follow Touya’s example, kiss him back harder, and moan his approval. And maybe lower his hips to press them together just so…

At the first sounds that leave Keigo’s mouth, Touya chuckles his infuriating little laugh again.

“Don’t tell me I’m your first, pretty bird?”

Gah, that nickname lands like a lightning strike at the base of his neck, setting fire to every nerve ending in his body. Keigo twists his face until he can bury it in the side of Touya’s neck. He needs to… something.  

He gets an approving hum and a warm hand scratching over the back of his shirt when he kisses a hungry path up from Touya’s jaw to just below his ear.

“My first boy,” he admits.

“How am I doing so far?”

“Hmm. Too early to say,” he teases with a smirk.

Touya grabs him by the hair and pulls his head up so he can look him in the face again. His eyes are glowing.

“More, then?”

Keigo nods, ready to agree to whatever Touya will offer him.

Touya pushes and manhandles him upright, then squirms around on the backseat until Keigo is sitting in the middle. Then the menace slides one leg over his lap and straddles Keigo’s thighs. Touya grins down at him, the top of his head brushing the canopy, while he fights his way out of his jacket. He’s wearing long sleeves underneath, but the fabric is thin enough that Keigo can feel the heat of his skin straight through it when he coils his arms around his neck. 

A fuse blows in Keigo’s brain. He hooks his fingers in Touya’s belt loops, pulling him closer while rolling his hips on instinct. He’s breathing like he just ran a race. Above him, blue eyes flutter closed.

How did I not notice how beautiful you are before now?

When they go back in for the kiss, Touya chuckles something about Goddamn fireflies.

Keigo stops thinking. He has a boy in his lap, rocking himself against him on the rhythm of their kisses. There are warm hands touching his face, his shoulders, pawing at his chest. In return, he wraps his arms around Touya's back, petting and grabbing up and down the expanse of another body. It's such a strange feeling to be allowed to do this, and to feel it in return. Nobody has ever touched him like this. Fuck, it’s too much and not enough and he wishes he could feel more skin-

Emboldened by the groans and ah’s spilling out of Touya, Keigo yanks on his belt loops while licking into his mouth. When he arches his back, Keigo lets one of his hands slip from Touya's hip under his shirt.

Touya freezes when the wandering hand finds a patch of skin that feels… different. Right above his waist, it feels rough yet fragile at the same time. Keigo stops breathing, worried that he did something wrong, but Touya sighs and pushes into his hand.

“It’s fine. No need to freak out.”

“What…” Keigo doesn’t know how to ask without shattering the spiderweb-thin thread between them. They’re pressed so close together, he can feel Touya swallow.

“An accident, when I was thirteen.”

Touya takes his hand and leads it up further, under his shirt. Keigo’s fingers trace a large swath of damaged skin, leading all the way across his chest. Up to his armpit and shoulder even? Christ, does it span his back? His arms?

Keigo splays his hand out on the center of Touya’s chest.

“What kind of accident?”

Touya smiles a strange smile and sags against Keigo, tucking his face in Keigo’s neck. It traps his hand between their bodies. Keigo doesn't dare move.

“The kind that means I’ve been excused from gym class forever.” He tries to play it off like it's funny. “It was my own fault. I was being stupid and playing with fire. But at least it put a definitive strike through one of my old man’s dreams for me. The damage was too severe for me to follow in his footsteps as a kendo champion.” A wry chuckle. “In hindsight, it was almost worth it. Even if he didn’t watch me burn.”

“Playing with…” Keigo catches on. His eyes go wide as he presses his hand a little tighter to yet another revelation. “Are these burn scars?”

“Most of them are,” Touya shrugs. When he sits up, he grabs Keigo by the collar. “Less talking. More kissing.”

Shocked into silence, Keigo tries to lose himself to the feeling of Touya writhing against him. Those hands yanking on his hair, that mouth sucking on his tongue, his hands on Todoroki Touya's bare skin-

Burn scars. Almost worth it.

Every slide of his fingers over damaged skin sets him further and further adrift. There's no way Touya doesn't notice, because his kisses and touches become more frantic, on the verge of aggressive. He’s clutching Keigo’s arms, trying to keep him down so he can’t pull away and say something awful.

Touya is running so, so fast and Keigo gets it, but he can't keep up while he's still hearing the words bouncing around in his head.

An accident, burns, stop being queer, do as you're told, not good enough-

With great effort, Keigo pulls himself away from Touya's mouth. Touya’s eyes are wide, and stuck between fear and anger. His breaths come out harsh. His shoulders tense like he’s bracing for impact, ready for this all to go wrong.

Keigo catches Touya's face between both hands, mindful of his injured cheek, and kisses him slowly and gently.

“You shouldn’t go to law school,” he blurts out. Touya scoffs. His fingers clench around Keigo’s biceps.

“I know. I’d be terrible at it.”

Keigo shakes his head and kisses him again.

“It’s your life. You should get to decide. If I can claw my way towards a future, so can you. And your dad can go fuck himself.”

Touya smiles wryly. He catches Keigo’s chin between thumb and forefinger. His eyes have a tinge of that haughty look again.

“You’re sweet.” It comes out resigned, almost mocking, with a kiss on its heels to soften the blow. “It’s not that easy.”

It never is.

Keigo lifts his head. He lets Touya hold his chin, keeping him steady, while he studies every inch of Touya’s face. That blooming bruise pulls his focus again. Gathering all his bravery, he looks at Touya until it makes him squirm in his lap.

“What?” Touya pulls his hand away and wraps his arms around himself.

“Does anyone know?” Keigo asks, and reaches out to touch.

Touya pulls away at first, but then he relents and lets Keigo stroke along the edge of the bruise.

“Only my family, and our house staff.” He shrugs and brushes the hand off. “There’s nobody who can do anything about it anyway. He’s powerful and rich and he owns me.”

“Fuck that, he owns you,” Keigo snaps.

Touya snatches both of Keigo’s wrists and pins them up by his head, against the leather upholstery.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone,” he sing-songs like he can read Keigo’s mind. Keigo wants to argue, but the manic glint in Touya’s eyes tells him he’ll lose more than he can afford if he pushes the issue. Even he has his limits.

“I won’t. I just…” He sinks into the seat with a defeated sigh. “It’s not fair.” In his head, he still hears Touya count down on his fingers until he makes a fist. “None of this is fair.”

Touya lets go of his wrists. He cards his fingers through Keigo's hair and nuzzles the top of his head, still perched in his lap. It feels strange to be held this close.

“It’s sweet of you to care,” Touya hums. He presses their bodies together. In response, Keigo winds his arms around his waist like it’s already the most natural place for him to be. “Now shut up and kiss me, Birdie. I heard you were fast, so stop stalling.”

So Keigo does. He grabs Touya wherever he can reach and kisses him until the snobbish bastard gasps for air. Keigo kisses him until he’s sure Touya can feel what he got himself into.

Desperate, as if he’d never let go again if he was given permission, Keigo holds Touya close while he maps his entire mouth with his tongue. He barely knows what he’s doing, but at this point it’s mainly about being so close that he can’t see or feel anything else. 

He just needs…

All of this…

To be okay.

Touya moans, a beautiful broken sound, high up and with too much breath, when Keigo starts to leave a path of hickeys down his throat. He’s going on pure feelings, nothing planned out, no handrails or experience. He just wants to make a point to this infuriating asshole.

I’ve known you for five years. This is the first time I’ve really seen you, and it’s so spectacular that I never want to look away again. Just one moment of realness, and look where we find ourselves. That’s not a coincidence.

I want to talk about poetry with you and sit in this stupid car next to you and be surrounded by hundreds of fireflies as if they were wished here, and I want all of it to mean something. I want to know that this isn’t an accident, that this feeling I didn’t think was possible isn’t just something that can happen and pass me by. I want you to feel what I feel right now, because damn it, I can almost see it. The whole picture.

This is something , isn’t it? This is where something starts. Why else would it feel as big as the entire night sky?

Keigo slides lower in the backseat, kissing Touya’s chest through his shirt. He keeps his hands planted on Touya’s hips and doesn’t let go, not even when he croaks out,

“What are you-”

Keigo is sure his face is bright red, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He hoists Touya up by his belt until he’s sitting up on his knees, his face nearly pressed against the back window and his stomach level with Keigo’s mouth.

He has never done anything like this, but this fucking guy drives him so crazy, he just has to-

“Shit!”

Touya moans above him when Keigo hikes his shirt up and presses his mouth to his stomach. He feels every muscle in the boy’s body jump and twitch. His knees clamp together around Keigo’s hips, and his hands scramble to pull the shirt down again.

“Please?” Keigo pleads.

He cranes his neck to look up and catches a glimpse of Touya’s face above him, contorted and pink and finally, finally outdone.

“You really are fast, huh?” he pants. “Not such a stick-in-the-mud after all. Full of surprises.”

It’s not nearly enough to make him sound confident. So Keigo smiles at him and slowly lifts his shirt again, just enough to see his stomach but not so much that he bares the burn scars.

He grabs the belt loops again and yanks Touya’s hips to his face, planting another kiss just below his belly button, and he revels in the moan that gets him. Touya squirms and grabs the headrests, but he doesn't pull away again.

I wonder what he’d sound like if I licked him right here.

That’s when Touya suddenly tenses up and pushes his head away.

“Fuck.” He’s already climbing off Keigo’s lap.

“What?” Keigo sits up, disoriented. Touya gestures through the window.

“Cops.”

“Fuck!”

Keigo pops up like a spring-loaded toy and stares out into the dark with wide eyes. At the far end of the parking lot, the headlights of a police cruiser are coming straight for them.

“Stay calm.” Touya is kneeling on the cushion and frantically tugging at the seatbelts, feeling around for something.

“We are trespassing. Touya, if this goes on my record-” Keigo hisses in a panic.

“Relax, Birdie. Sit up, quickly.” Touya waves him off the seat. When Keigo gets up as well as he can, he pulls a latch. The backrest folds down. “Get in.”

“In the trunk?”

“Will you just trust me? I know what I’m doing.”

He doesn’t have a choice. The headlights of the cruiser are almost on top of them. Keigo ducks his head and dives into the pitch black trunk of the Camaro. He’s barely all the way in when Touya squeezes in after him, pulling the backrest into place.

Keigo turns over on his side and watches the faint light disappear. He almost protests, but the muffled rumble of the cop car’s engine cuts him off.

It’s too dark to see anything. There’s no difference whether his eyes are open or closed. He only knows that Touya is right in front of him because he can feel him.

Touya's body slots against his. Keigo can feel his excited grin when he speaks against his mouth,

“Not. A. Sound.”

Over the hammering of his heart, Keigo listens to the sound of the cruiser’s doors opening and closing. He hears the heavy footfalls in the foliage and the gruff voices of the cops. He can't decipher what they're saying.

Touya laughs without making a sound, either from nerves or because he can tell Keigo teeters on the verge of a panic attack. He keeps pressing kisses to Keigo's chin, cheeks, neck…

Someone knocks on one of the windows. On the other side of the car, someone tries one of the door handles. Touya grabs Keigo even more tightly and slips his tongue in his mouth again.

A giddy fire spreads through him. So close to the edge, Keigo finds it remarkably easy to finally shut his eyes and jump. He nudges a thigh between Touya's knees and digs his hand back under his shirt. 

Smooth skin raises waves of goosebumps under his touch, but he makes sure to touch the scars with just as much attention. Touya offered him glimpses tonight, and all Keigo owes him is to treat these pieces with care.

He's kissing a pretty boy. Scars won't change how good this feels. Right now, this is fine. The dark, and their eager hands on each other.

Touya lets out a sigh and bites Keigo's lips. In response, Keigo grabs his waist and pulls Touya's hips towards him. When they find friction against each other, they seal their mouths together to muffle any sounds.

The cops take their sweet time walking around the car, looking for the delinquent driver. Inside the trunk, Keigo maps the entire span of Touya's chest while he gets kissed dizzy. Either they're running out of air, or he's losing brain functions from Touya's fingers playing with his waistband. They slip below the elastic, touching the sensitive skin of Keigo's stomach just above where there's something quaking at his core, holy fuck-

Keigo bites back as he shoves his hand between Touya's thighs, muffling the gasp with his own mouth. The air in the trunk is hot and dead between them, but that's nothing compared to the heat when he squeezes the inside of Touya's leg, higher and higher. He keens something that was probably supposed to be Keigo- 

He won't let go. Panting and shaking, Keigo keeps him close, teasing him with the threat of more touches and sounds when they both know they can't risk it. Touya shakes in his arms, shoves Keigo's shirt up, and digs his nails into the bare skin of his back. With some luck, he'll leave marks.

The voices outside the car retreat again. Keigo listens for the cops’ footsteps and the sound of their car backing away, all while still slowly rocking his hips into Touya's. They both shake with restrained laughter and kiss the corners of their smiles.

They wait until they're sure the cops are gone before Touya knocks the backrest down again. Fresh air and dim light flood the trunk. Keigo almost regrets having to let go, but he’s grateful to get out of the cramped space. He crawls back into the car with a groan, following an equally messed-up and sweaty Touya.

The menace flashes him a satisfied grin.

“See? Told you.”

They shouldn't keep pushing their luck. Keigo knows that the evening has come to an end. He doesn't protest when Touya gets out of the car to take his place behind the wheel again. He just hopes the spell won't break as soon as they start the engine.

Before getting in, Touya snatches something from behind the windshield wiper. Keigo laughs when he realizes it's a parking ticket.

“Not the first time I’ve been caught here,” he shrugs and tears the ticket up before tossing it in the back.

“So you come here often?” Keigo asks offhandedly as he slides back into the passenger seat. It's half joking, half really goddamn serious. Touya grins as he starts the engine.

“I know my way around here. Though the company has never been this good. And I’ve never gotten this much homework done.” He looks Keigo up and down. “And the fireflies never came out early.”

***

The Camaro’s engine idles outside of Keigo's house. Keigo is leaning into the open driver's side window to kiss Touya again. It's late and there are no lights on inside, but even if his mother was still awake it wouldn't have stopped him.

Touya flashes him a lazy smile between kisses.

“Tomorrow?” he purrs. And lord, is it tempting.

“Make it Friday,” Keigo chuckles. “I do have actual homework to do.”

“Boo. Nerd.” Touya hooks two fingers in his shirt collar so he can't pull away from the window just yet. “But we are doing this again?”

Oh, he sounds so fake-casual Keigo can't help but tease him a little. What's there to say, it feels nice to be wanted.

“We're not done with our project, so I'm afraid we have to. We still have to analyze the themes, compare the writing styles, find their respective influences, and put together our presentation… I fear we’ll be stuck together for a while,” he muses with an exaggerated pained face, like it’s a huge effort on his part to receive more kisses. Touya doesn't budge an inch as he looks him up and down. Even after making out, he can still knock Keigo over with a stare.

“Good.”

“So good.” Keigo gives in. He pecks Touya's mouth again. “You're very good at poetry homework, you know that?”

“Fuck off and go inside, already.” Touya still doesn't let him go. He still has his eyes fixed on Keigo's lips. 

“Are you heading home?” Keigo asks.

“Maybe. Might just cruise around, stay out of his way for a few days.”

Silence settles over them. Keigo knows it might be too early to let them intertwine like this, but…

“If you ever need somewhere to go, you know where I live now. Just park around back and knock on my bedroom window. My mom won’t even notice.” He bumps their foreheads together. “I won’t tell. Just let me help.”

It might be too much, too heavy, too soon. But after tonight they know each other too well for Keigo to pull back again.

Touya smiles at him. Even the way he rolls his eyes seems gentle.

“Are you trying to save the world, Birdie?”

“Yeah. One hot fuckup at a time.” He pulls a ridiculously cocky smirk. “Or maybe I’m just trying to sneak you into my room.”

Touya laughs. “I knew it. My mother warned me about pretty boys like you.”

That's not a no.

“This is exactly why I could never stop messing with you,” Touya mutters, their mouths barely a breath apart. “You're so good, and righteous, and you're really pretty when you're quietly contemplating murder. Drove me insane.” He smirks. “Thank god you finally snapped. Who knows what else I would have done to get your attention?”

One last kiss, then Keigo slaps the roof of the car.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

He watches Touya turn the car around and leave Keigo's quiet street. Even after the taillights are long gone, Keigo is still standing there, smiling like an idiot, a head full of meteors and fireflies.