You stand at the counter, slicing vegetables, while the sound of sizzling fills the kitchen. The warmth against your back isn’t just from the stove—it’s from Todoroki, who has decided that cooking isn’t as important as keeping you close. His arms rest loosely around your waist, his chin brushing against your shoulder as he watches you work.

“I’m handling the heat,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. With a flick of his wrist, the pan on the stove heats up perfectly, the flames under it unnecessary thanks to his quirk.

You feel his breath against your neck as he presses a little closer, half-lidded eyes flickering between you and the food. “You’re also distracting yourself,” you point out, poking his arm lightly.

“Maybe,” he admits, tightening his embrace just a little. ”But this is nice.”

You sigh, pretending to be exasperated, but the warmth of him, the way his fingers trace slow, lazy circles against your stomach, makes it impossible to be annoyed. You reach back, running your fingers through the strands of his two-toned hair.

“The food’s going to burn,” you remind him.

His response is simple. He turns up the heat just enough to keep it cooking evenly without looking away from you. ”I’ve got it,” he says. ”I’d rather focus on something more important.”