Strings Attached

Chapter 1

   Tomura Shigaraki grimaced when he heard the first bell ring at lunch. He had already taken his normal place, alone in the far corner of the lunchroom at a little round table.
   He watched his peers slip on their masks, rushing to their own cliques, and almost scoffed at their desperation. So many of them would do whatever it took to fit in, so desperate to please their peers. It disgusted him.
   Tomura didn't sit with anyone at lunch, not entirely by choice, but because he didn't fit in with any particular group. But hey, at least he got a table to himself. He wallowed in his self pity, not caring to notice the other boy sitting alone in the cafeteria.

   Izuku Midoriya sat in the floor under a window, just a few feet away from Tomura. He felt as though he shouldn't waste a perfectly good table on just himself when other people needed it more than he did. He wasn't upset about not having anyone to sit with, in fact, he liked it more this way. It gave him more time to work on his research for debate, which was next period.
   Izuku had been waiting on this topic to arise for years now, his cards were already almost. And with him going against someone so opposed to hero society like Tomura Shigaraki, he knew every little thing needed to be perfect, or Shigaraki would find a loophole.
   Both of the boys finished their lunch in peace. Well, not Tomura. He was a little upset, to say the least. Bakugou was throwing pieces of his sandwich at Tomura, trying to land the sticky peanut butter in his hair (he only succeeded once), which resulted in the blue-haired boy being late to class.

   Izuku was already in the middle of prep when Tomura showed up, hair streaked with the remains of a peanut butter sandwich. He tried to tune Izuku out as much as he could as he gathered his thoughts and notes and took the seat opposite the green haired boy.
"Judge ready. Are contestants ready?" He gave a gentle not, and the judge gave an announcement, letting them know that their time had just begun. Midoriya immediately started speaking, and Tomura searched for anything he could contest.
Tomura's fingers always moved faster than his brain could process during these debates, which left him reeling, trying to figure out what the scribbles of his notes said. Honestly, he wasn't too fond of debate; he only participated because it was the last elective open. But the way that Midoriya's eyes were always so bright when he spoke almost made him want to change sides. It made him want to agree.

Once their time was finished, they gathered the notes from their "judges", and went to the library to adjust. Tomura moved faster than Midoriya, hoping that he wouldn't have to make any awkward conversation about his beliefs. "Hey, Shigaraki." Well, so much for that. He mentally prepared to be bombarded with questions about his stance on hero society, to be teased and mocked. "Your counter-arguments were really good! You have got to teach me your methods for cross examination!"
Tomura looked dumbfounded, to say the least. There were practically stars in the boy's eyes, and he looked like a little lightning-charged hamster, energy seeping out of him like a sponge. His face went just the lightest shade of red. "O-oh, uh. Yeah. Your points were good, too."
Midoriya bowed, and muttered a bashful "thank-you" out to Tomura. He fought a giggle.
For the first time, Tomura sat at the same table as someone, albeit on opposite ends. He had his laptop open, working on his notes, a newfound liking for debate bursting through him. As he worked, he took short glances at Midoriya, who was in his own little world. His eyebrows knit together as he worked, scribbling something down onto a small notepad, then placing the end of his pencil in his mouth as he typed something out on his computer, and took the pencil away again, just to tap it on his chin in thought. Tomura thought he probably took this way more seriously than he ever would himself. Midoriya looked at him, and he immediately fixed his eyes back on his own work, fingers clacking on his keyboard.
"Shigaraki?" He looked up from his work to be greeted by Midoriya's face inches from his own. "Can I help you?" The green haired boy backed away, a bright blush on his face. "My... my pencil. It's out of lead." A hand came up to rub at the back of his neck. "Do you happen to have a spare?" Bright green eyes met his own, yet again, and he thought to himself about how one might be able to become lost in eyes like his, and how some girl would be so lucky to have him one day. Outwardly, all he did was give a quiet grunt of affirmation, and turn to dig in the front pocket of his bag. He pulled out a green mechanical pencil, and clicked a few times just to make sure it had lead. "Here."
"Thank you, Shigaraki-kun." Izuku gently reached for the pencil, fingers gently brushing Shigaraki's skin, the feeling of soft skin against his own, dry and coarse, made all the hair on the back of his neck, arms, and legs stand up, much like an alert cat. His eyes must have widened, because then Midoriya said, "Are you okay?", and cocked his head like a little puppy. He pushed himself back a little, trying to create a little distance between them. "M'fine." He slumped down again, hiding a now-red face behind his computer screen.

That night, after Shigaraki got home to an unsurprisingly empty house, he thought back to all the interactions he'd had that day. He thought about the special attention that Midoriya had given him, and shook his head. Attention isn't attraction, he'd had to tell himself several times. He'd gone through the trouble of telling himself the same thing as he cooked dinner and his mind wandered back to the idea of bright green eyes full of energy and passion, as he was washing his hands and remembered the feeling of Izuku's soft skin against his own, and as he was settling into bed for the night. He finally thought that maybe, just maybe, he'd been freed from the stupid thoughts of his classmate plaguing his mind as he slowly fell into sleep, and his mind wandered back to Midoriya's soft green curls, and how they might feel in Tomura's fingers.
This was enough to stir him from his stupid sleep, rolling over and audibly huffing into his pillow out of exasperation. He'd deal with this further in the morning, he told himself as he snuggled into his pillow, finally letting his mind wander wherever it wanted, Midoriya-inspired dreams flowing into his mind without stopping himself.