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She hit pause. Jake Sully’s face froze on screen.
"Shoko, do you mind? My ears are scratchy."
Momo shot her a sheepish smile and scratched the back of her ears in demonstration. Shoko sighed, knowing she could never really resist that smile, and got up from the couch.
Shoko would never have picked up the habit if it weren't for her. After all, growing up, the Todoroki family had not been the most physically expressive. If not for her mother, Shoko might have grown up completely averse to touch.
So she found that hanging out with Momo helped.
When they were high schoolers, Momo had tried to initiate contact first. They had been sitting next to each other in the lounge room, stuck on a math problem. Their elbows had been right next to one another all afternoon, when Momo suddenly turned, her hand touching Shoko’s arm for just a second. The other girl’s body had jerked away on its own. "Sorry!" Momo had gasped out, her hand pulling away in surprise. Shoko had apologized almost immediately, too, cringing at her own awkwardness.
With time, though, she had grown used to her girlfriend’s touch, and frequently came to crave it. She liked the feeling her body heat when they sat next to each other on the couch and ran reality tv marathons. Or reaching for an arm in the dark and snuggling in the crook of a shoulder while they were studying in the library until the late hours of the night. For no reason at all, of course.
And this. This was a very important mission. Something she knew only one person could be trusted with.
Shoko rummaged through Momo's bedside table and picked up the ear pick. The earpicks in this house were frequently displaced, but so far this was a failsafe location. Momo was a relatively tidy person, but she had the tendency to forget where she stored most of her things.
The nice thing about having Creati as your roommate was that you never ran into the trouble of losing your knick-knacks. The tradeoff, however, was a tally of five nail clippers, twelve earbuds, and too many high-end replica pens to count. Eventually, the trinket epidemic had spread to household products, too: six hairbrushes (Momo tended to lose them in her bag when she forgot to unpack), ten bottles of conditioner (nine too many, although Momo would beg to disagree). The list went on.
Shoko shuffled through the various items, her hand digging at the bottom of the drawer. There were nail clippers and chapsticks, toe separators, a gluestick. Spare auto parts and a wrench (Shoko usually did Momo’s oil changes came spring). How the heck did all this junk even fit in this tiny vanity?
She almost gave up when she felt the familiar shape of an ear-pick. Momo had made this one last month and it was a new favourite: it was a simple bamboo stick with the small spoon-shape at one end, and a fluffy, pink tail at the other.
Shoko looked out to the living room. "You want anything else from your room?"
"Oh, would you be a dear and bring the skincare tray, please?"
"Face masks? Or the whole tray?"
"Just the face masks would be fine, actually!"
Shoko grabbed the items and made her way back to the couch, where her girlfriend was bundled under a fluffy blanket. She looked so cozy, her knees tucked under her. How was it that after leaving for a minute, she was already taking up all that couch territory?
"Make me a little bit of space, will you," Shoko said, scooching her over with good humour.
Momo giggled and shifted to accommodate her. "Thank you, honey. "
"I haven't even gotten started yet," Shoko blinked.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, head dropping on her lap.
Shoko disinfected the small spoon-shaped tool with rubbing alcohol while Momo adjusted her head position.
“Your head is heavy,” Shoko flicked her forehead.
“Like that’s anything new!” was the offended reply.
Shoko snorted. She half-hazardly reached behind her nape to twist her hair in a no-tie bun, securing it with a tuck, and got to work.
She took the pick and slowly made her way inside the right ear, careful not to dig too far in. In recent iterations, Momo's earpick creations had started to include a built-in light, which was extremely practical for this task.
Momo was snuggling in her lap, content to have her ear cleaned. The tip softly rubbing against the walls of her canal was scratching an itch that had to be relieved. Momo let out a satisfied sigh, a sign for Shoko to continue.
"You know, back home, my mom would always do this for me."
Shoko nodded, then realized she couldn't see her. Her brows furrowed in concentration. "Don't talk, please."
Momo peeked at her from the corner of her eye. "Sorry."
"Your right ear's almost done. Let me know if this is too deep."
"It's good for now."
Shoko scraped along the cartilage a few more times for good measure, and leaned over.
"Done. Other side, please."
Momo flipped on her back and faced the other way, her head now facing her, and poked her belly button. Although they often did this together, Momo usually liked to always face away from her while she was helping her out. She supposed it did not make much of a difference, except that it led to these somewhat funny face-in-crotch situations.
The light clicked on and Shoko got to work. Momo's left ear seemed to have less debris, but she still scraped off a few flaky pieces before wrapping them in a paper towel.
"Done," she said, and tickled her cheek with the feathery end of the pen. Momo let out a squeak in indignation and swatted her hand at her. Her attempts to move away from the offending, ticklish material were too cute. They both burst in laughter.
Out of breath, Momo sat up and was still holding her sides. “My stomach hurts from laughing,” she pouted.
“No ‘thank you, apple of my eye, dearest of my soul’?” Shoko teased.
Momo leaned forward and tackled her waist. It was Shoko’s turn to feel ticklish all over. "Thank you. I really enjoyed this."
She let herself lean back slightly as their arms wrapped around each other. With time, her body had learned that being close to her person was invariably correlated with the scent of flowery shampoo and an enveloping warmness. Momo had a presence that was truly hard to dislike, she found.
They let themselves sink in the hug before Momo pulled back and burrowed herself back in the blanket.
"Cold?"
Momo nodded and extended the flaps of the blanket to let her in her huddle. "Come closer," she said.
"Want me to use my quirk to warm us?"
"No, it's good like this. Your body is already the perfect temperature."
Shoko's ears went pink. Her girlfriend was usually innocent and reserved, but she also said racy things like these from time to time.
Avatar was still paused on the TV. Shoko found that she was too lazy to reach for the remote, and snuggled closer.
"On second thought," Momo said, and suddenly stuck her icy fingers on Shoko’s neck. Still buried in the blanket, Shoko's body shivered at the intrusion. "...Thought you didn't need my help?" she teased.
"I take it back?"
Shoko relented and placed Momo’s fingers lower on her chest, closer to her left side. "Here, it's warmer.” Years ago, she might have felt conscious about letting anyone touch her, much less with her scar there. Now, both she and Momo had gotten used to it, and she liked feeling her girlfriend’s dainty fingers close to her heart, like the tips of them were listening in on her heartbeat.
“Your hands are icy. Did you eat enough today?”
“I had a big lunch at work. You’re just immune to the cold, I fear, Miss Icy-hot.” They both smiled at the old nickname.
When her hands were warm up, Momo's arm stretched out from under the blanket and picked up the paraphernalia she had left on the coffee table, including the face masks and the box to stow away her ear-pick.
"Try not to lose it this time," Shoko joked.
Momo pulled her tongue at her. "No promises." Then: "Want to do face masks now?"
Ever since starting to date Momo Yaoyorozu, Shoko had discovered many new details about her, like the pouty faces she made when she wanted to spend alone time, or the beaming smile she made when she was excited about something: and each newfound facet was more and more adorable.
Along the facial expressions of Momo Yaoyorozu, she had also discovered the use of many new objects she previously had no idea existed. These daily discoveries were something she always looked forward to, even on days like today where she had to deal with icy-cold hands.
She delicately tore the plastic packaging for the both of them. "Of course I want to do face masks."
Momo leaned in to peck her cheek in response.