Waiting on a Beautiful Boy (To Save You from Your Old Ways)

He Doesn't Look a Thing Like Jesus.

Shouto's phone pings from his pocket as he sits down. He ignores it in favour of pulling out his laptop and sitting it on the small desk provided with each seat in the auditorium.

He sits near the back, not interested in being called upon to answer any of the professors questions.

His phone pings again and he reaches into his pocket to flick it onto silent mode.

He throws his bag on the seat next to him, saving it for Uraraka who will no doubt dart in ten seconds before the lecture, and sits back in his own. Most students have already found their seats and are chatting excitedly amongst their peers while others shuffle in with sinister expressions.

His phone buzzes in his pocket this time, then again, then one more time before he decides to check who on earth is spamming him at ten to nine on a Friday morning.

He thinks he already knows who it is.

He pulls his phone out anyway and sees thirteen new messages from his father. The first ten mention the upcoming holidays and how he's looking forward to hearing about Shouto's progress in his studies. The last three ask, each in a different way, why Shouto is ignoring his texts.

He quickly texts back with the excuse that he has classes before shutting his phone off again.

Before he can even breathe out a sigh, there's three new messages on his lock screen. He throws the phone in his backpack, hoping the thick material will mask the vibrations of his own personal torture device.

It's only when his phone is securely out of sight that he looks up to see a young man standing at the front of the room. He taps the microphone gently and clears his throat.

He's blonde and lean in stature with a young face that makes him look more like a student than a professor. Shouto wonders if the school is lacking in funds.

"Is this working?" The young blonde asks, way too close to the microphone. The sound echoes around the room and he seems to notice his mistake as he pulls away from the microphone.

"I think that's a yes." He mutters nervously, laughing at himself. "Hi everyone, my name's Denki Kaminari. Before anyone asks, no I'm not your lecturer for today."

Thank god. Shouto thinks. He'd already begun contemplating the best escape route.

"I'm actually here for more important reasons." Somehow he's found the professors little clicker thing and he uses it to switch slides on the projector.

A basic looking PowerPoint appears and on the first slide in big, block letters are the words 'I NEED A BOYFRIEND!'

Shouto scoffs to himself and admires the amount of aggression those words portray. He thinks he could have gone for a less intense font. Maybe helevicta?

The blonde carries on, unaware of the way Shouto silently judges his graphic design skills. "That's right ladies and gentleman, I'm that desperate." He uses the clicker again and the image switches to a photo of a large family. "This is a picture of my family. Nice, right? Wrong. You see, two years ago my sister -that's her there- started a tradition where whoever came home for the holidays without a partner would be forced to sleep in the single bed in the basement. Now, you may not think that's such a bad thing but let me show you something real quick."

He clicks again and a photo of a dark, concrete room appears. For a moment, Shouto thinks he's looking at a prison cell. "This is our basement." The young man announces. "The last two years when I went home for Christmas, I spent my nights in this cold, dark, moist room." His speech slows on each adjective, likely in an effort to gain empathy.