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Izuku isn't irresponsible. He isn't. He is entirely aware that he's a little tipsy, but that's not his fault. Kirishima insisted he get some drinks because they had to celebrate his recent engagement to Kacchan and, well, it was just a couple of cocktails. It's not his fault he's a lightweight. Still, even if a little uninhibited, he's perfectly aware of his surroundings and capable of driving. He just has to get home without being stopped by the police.... Of course, he was never really known for his luck.
When the red and blue lights reflect in his rear-view mirror he can’t help the loud groan that crawls its way out of his scratchy throat. Perhaps singing at the top of his lungs during karaoke wasn’t the best idea he’d had all night either. Adding that one to the list of ‘today’s bad decisions’, right under ‘let Uraraka convince him to let her set up a blind date for him’. He pulls up to the side of the road, diving for his driver’s license, registration and ID already while the police officer gets out of the car and approaches his door.
Izuku rolls down his window before the cop even has the chance to knock on his window, figuring that since he’s most likely screwed already he might as well behave as properly and politely as possible. Might be it gets him off the hook, who knows.
Well, that whole plan goes completely out the open window as soon as his eyes land on the cop that’s about to become the reason for his demise, most likely. The light from his car is in no way enough to illuminate the glorious heaven-sent angel standing just outside his car. Mismatched blue-grey eyes blink stupidly at him, the left one covered by a scar that takes up almost a quarter of his face, white and red eyebrows knitting together in a mix of what Izuku assumes to be confusion and suspicion. And that’s when he realises he just said that out loud. Great start.
Completely glossing over his very inappropriate comment – thank the lords – the cop nods his head at him, showing him his identification. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” The man’s – Todoroki it seems – voice is low and smooth, like velvet caressing his ears and making his stomach do a couple of backflips. He really hopes he didn’t say that too. Luckily, his thoughts seem to have stayed inside his head this time.
Focusing on the question rather than the man who asked it, he turns the events leading up to this in his head. Izuku is about 90% sure he wasn’t swerving and even if he’s had a couple of drinks, he’s also completely certain that he wasn’t speeding because he wanted to make sure he wasn’t pulled over… Which, actually, makes him realise he may have been going too slow to compensate. Awesome. This night is just going swell. He just wants to be in bed and having unrealistic dreams about not having to work on Monday.
“I may have been going a little too slow.”
“Your lD, registration and driver’s license, please.”
“Right.” He hands over the documents and waits for officer Todoroki to look them over, his flashlight pointed down at the papers as he absently keeps talking in a monotone that has no right sounding so god damn hot.
“Have you had anything to drink?”
He’s not about to lie to a cop’s face when he knows very well he’ll get tested anyway. “I had a couple of drinks about an hour ago,” he answers honestly, then adding with a hint of urgency “but I swear I’m already good to drive.”
“That’s what they all say.” Todoroki mutters under his breath, and Izuku isn’t sure if he was supposed to actually hear it. “Midoriya-san, please step out of the car.”
“Right, of course, okay.”
He scrambles to get out of the car, a squeal dying in his throat when he stands face to face with the man and notices that he’s got a fair height advantage on him. No, Izuku most certainly doesn’t have a thing for tall handsome men who look like they’re built of lean muscle. Why would anyone be into that? And that split down the middle of his white and red hair is also in no way making him sweat. Absolutely not.
Todoroki gestures for him to follow and Izuku promptly obeys, looking down in a desperate attempt to hide the very obvious blush he knows he’s sporting, his cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. He doesn’t have a filter when he has alcohol in his system, he’s going to say something stupid and get himself arrested, he’s sure of it.
When Todoroki leans into the car to get what he assumes to be a breathalyser, Izuku is definitely not staring at his ass.
“Blow on this, please.”
He stops himself before actually saying ‘I’ll blow whatever you ask me to’, instead nodding wordlessly and doing as told. Izuku shifts awkwardly as Todoroki looks over the numbers, his expression neutral. Izuku is so lost in the hard lines of his jaw, the subtle purse of his thin lips and the intricate works of his scarred skin, that he hardly registers his words and his own response to them.
“Could you walk a straight line for me?”
“Ha, sir, I’m not even straight.” He slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as he realises what came spewing out of it, eyes widening in horror as he watches the other’s expression morph to that of mild shock. “I am so sorry! I didn’t- that’s not- I didn’t mean to-”
Todoroki narrows his eyes at him and Izuku shuts his mouth with a loud ‘click’. His cheeks flaring once more, he turns around and starts toeing the continuous line on the side of the road, praying to every deity he knows of that his tendency to trip on thin air doesn’t show its ugly face at a time like this. Thankfully, he manages not to waver until the officer tells him it’s okay to stop and starts writing something down. Izuku feels his stomach drop.
“Oh no, you’re gonna fine me, aren’t you? I totally deserve it, I get it, but please, I’m really short on money this month and my rent’s due in two days, please, is there anything at all I can do to make this go away?”
In retrospect, that wasn’t the best choice of words after his previous comment, but the absolutely desperate way in which he said, almost breathless, coupled with how he grabbed onto the man’s arms without thinking, didn’t make it sound any better whatsoever. The blood drains from his face before he even has the chance to get his brain to kickstart and his body to get him to back away.
“Sir,” Todoroki says slowly, carefully, stiff as a board, “if you don’t let go right this instant, I’m going to have to arrest you for harassment.”
Izuku nearly chokes on the ‘Kinky, I like it’ that screams inside his brain at those words, though it seems to jolt him back into action, and he pulls his hands away with a squeak, lifting them up defensively and waving them about as he mumbles a string of nearly incomprehensible apologies. The man sighs heavily as Izuku bows his head lower than he thinks he’s ever bowed it before, narrowly resisting the urge to actually get to his knees and glue his forehead to the asphalt.
“I-it’s fine… Just, please, try not to drink and drive, no matter how capable you think you are.” Izuku feels bile rise in his throat when he hears the rip of paper. “And choose your words more carefully.” Todoroki hands him the fine along with his documents and Izuku takes them. “Have a nice night and go straight home.”
Izuku nods, turning on his heels, downcast, and getting into his car as the other does the same and drives off. He’s already feeling the prickle of tears in his eyes when he looks at the fine to figure out how big of a blow his finances are taking and going over how to rearrange his expenses to accommodate it.
He’s glad he didn’t start driving before looking, because he certainly would have crashed as soon as his eyes landed on nothing but a phone number with ‘Todoroki Shouto’ written neatly under it.