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There’s a pounding in Todoroki’s chest that feels as familiar as home. He suppresses a cough as smouldering debris flies around him. There’s another body next to him, singing the same tune of adrenaline. Without saying a word to each other, they had managed to team up on their offence, and now, team up on their defence as they sit behind a big chunk of broken cement.
“It’s just his fucking sonar detection. I can’t get close to him!” Bakugou curses in frustration. “If I could just land one of my explosions...” He cranes his neck and sneaks a peek. Todoroki leans back and tries to catch his breath, completely exhausted from the combat already. Two top heroes were not enough apparently.
“Subtlety has never been your strong suit,” he says quickly, managing a small smile even in dire situations like this.
“Oh fuck off—” Todoroki shushes him harshly as the earpiece he's been wearing crackles. He grimaces and tries to make out the information.
“Reinforcement has their hands full with some other villain downtown. I told them this was an abandoned sector, so we’re a low priority.”
“This is taking too long. We have to end this,” Bakugou says, looking ready to pounce.
Like static in the air that forewarns lightning seconds before it strikes, the same sharp sense of trepidation climbs through Todoroki. He senses Bakugou’s next move and acts on instinct. He ices his angry partner’s feet to the ground and halts his movement. “Todoroki.”
“You can’t just fly in there and expect an explosion to end this. It hasn’t worked thus far, has it?” Todoroki almost shouts, uncharacteristically angry at Bakugou’s reckless attempt to barge in there, his storage tanks of sweat blaring. They weren't impulsive teenagers anymore and he refuses to be careless when they have no plan whatsoever.
Bakugou pops the ice off his feet and smirks at Todoroki. “You haven’t seen anything yet, half n half.” He leans in and yanks Todoroki by the collar of his hero outfit to pull him into a harsh kiss, if you could even call it that. It takes him by surprise and his balance slips momentarily as he falls on his ass. He hears the click before he feels the cold on his wrist. Yanking at his hand, he sees what used to be his handcuffs, imprisoning him to the wall, cuffing around a partially exposed steel rod. “Stay here.”
“Do not do this,” he says. Fear cloaks his heart and strains his voice. “Bakug—” He doesn’t get to finish as he sees his partner jet off and fly into the eye of the hurricane. Todoroki quickly ices the handcuff, hearing its composition crumble with the new shift to subzero temperatures.
Before he can move, there’s a blinding yellow light that envelops the entire area. Its power quickly turns it a shade of white so intense Todoroki covers his eyes as they begin to sting, almost as if the sun itself had begun to fall from the sky, directly onto Japan.
The reverberation from the explosion is severe and its energy covers his whole body with warmth. His feet slide while trying to stay in place against the force of wind coming from Bakugou’s direction. With a burning need to assess the situation and protect his loved one, he risks a peak and pushes past the wall.
Like a dying star finally caving in on itself, a beam of piercing white light is all Todoroki could make through the slits of his fingers partially covering his eyes. The power is simply undeniable. He barely manages to make out the silhouette of one single, indomitable force; Bakugou, at its centre. The light then begins to retreat back.
Todoroki momentarily hypothesizes that if the city, or even all the connecting continents, were to lose power, they could find solace in Bakugou and his limitless bouts of pure, chaotic energy.
It simply takes his breath away.
With the surrounding area completely decimated, the moment ends and Bakugou falls to his knees; hands shaking.
Few men are fortunate enough to see celestial events occur maybe once in their lifetime, but now Todoroki feels although a force as strong as fate must be to thank for his luck. The opportunity to have such an incandescent entity by his side, always, is unspeakably serendipitous. In all its heat, its beauty shines through. His beauty shines through.
Todoroki almost trips on his own feet as he paws his way into a running stance and hurries to Bakugou’s side. Spotting the villain completely knocked out, he pays him no mind and focuses on Bakugou and his too weak for comfort heartbeat. “Bakugou stay with me,” Todoroki gently whispers as he cradles Bakugou into his arms, carding through his hair on instinct.
A cough is followed by a groan and Todoroki is filled with relief.
“What’d I—” Bakugou wheezes momentarily and his body shudders, “—tell ya, candy cane?” Todoroki laughs at Bakugou’s egotism that refuses to be beaten down even in the eye of possible death.
“You smell like burnt bacon.”
“Of course you’d be well acquainted with that.” Bakugou critiques unabashedly. Even when he’s taunting Todoroki’s shitty (but improving) cooking skills, a fondness surrounds his eyes. They flutter a few times before shutting for good.
“Let’s get you to a hospital, my supernova.”
************************
Todoroki had been sitting in this room for so long that the beeping of the heart machine had now synchronized with his own heartbeat. He taps on his thighs methodically, already familiar with the scent of lemon cleaner that had seeped into every wall of this hospital. His eyes wander back to Bakugou’s rising chest and he feels melancholy twirl inside him. He traces his stagnant hand for a second then intertwines their fingers.
Bakugou’s hands are softer than usual. Being out of commission for a few days had allowed for some of the calluses on his palms to heal. It is a new experience to be around him for so long and not hear a single peep or see a scowl. Instead his face is serene in this state of sleep.
There’s another short moment of calm before Todoroki jerks at the sudden noise and movement.
Bakugou suddenly lurches up, tugging at the wires attached to him, causing a loud BEEP BEEP BEEP to now permeate the room. He groans and stills, looking around trying to get his bearings. His eyes finally land on Todoroki sitting next to him and they both stare for a moment.
“Brief me,” Bakugou says.
“On?”
“Me, you idiot.” He tries to lift his hand to probably hit Todoroki, but he doesn’t manage an inch before he’s grimacing. “My status, the stats.”
“This isn’t a case, Bakugou. I don’t have a folder with your criminal history.” Todoroki sighs when he’s given an unenthused look. “It’s just been three days, but the doctor wouldn’t tell me any details about your condition.” Bakugou nudges his head toward the table and Todoroki hands him his phone. “Oh, and I chose not to tell your mom, per past requests.”
“Thank fucking God,” Bakugou praises, scrolling through his phone. “God shitty hair has ruined my phone bill. Thirty fucking calls— what the fuck.”
“Yea sorry I forgot to inform everyone else right away. I’m new to this.”
Bakugou eyes Todoroki cautiously, “what do you mean this?” Todoroki gestures to all the wiring that surrounds Bakugou and the machines that indicate his level of wellness. “You’ve never been to a fucking hospital?” He chastises, knowing full well that was not the case.
“I meant taking care of someone.” Bakugou chucks his phone into Todoroki’s lap and pushes a button that moves the top half of his bed 20 degrees higher. He leans against it, not fighting the comfort and sighs softly.
“No one asked you to,” he says with little malice, clearly stating it as a fact. Todoroki bites his tongue to stop him from stating the obvious. “You can leave.”
“Recovery girl isn’t back until tomorrow.”
“Did I fucking stutter, half n half?”
“You can barely even move your arm—” He’s immediately pricked with a sense of danger as he sees bakugou fly his hand toward him. He dodges out of the way only to see the smallest wisp of smoke emit from his palm. Then Bakugou is hissing and palming his forearm. Blue veins bulging in what he assumes is in pain. “You should probably let yourself heal before attempting to use your quirk again.” He expects an immediate defence, most likely in the form of an insult, but neither happen. Bakugou just gently examines his arms: stretching his fingers and attempting another explosion before a few sparks set off and he’s immediately curling in on himself again. A small groan of agony follows.
“Recovery girl will be back tomorrow,” Todoroki tries to reassure.
“I don’t need any fucking cradling,” Bakugou whispers angrily, seemingly more to himself than Todoroki. “If you’re not gonna leave just sit there in silence and stop bothering me.” Todoroki scrunches his eyebrows a little petulantly but abides by the request. He’s fine with just observing and being a silent companion if that’s what Bakugou thinks he wants.
With the expectation of playing nurse drown the drain, Todoroki finds solace in simply being by his side. He answers some texts, most of them from a worried Kirishima, and spends the rest of the time scrolling through some news sites.
Bakugou clears his throat and Todoroki pays him no mind until he does it again. And again. Then on the fourth time, he finally quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head in question. “Yes?”
“What happened to the sonar villain? I don’t remember.”
“That’s because you weren’t conscious for that part,” Todoroki says in a snippy manner. Bakugou let’s out a tch and watches as Todoroki parses through his emails. “Want me to find the incident report?”
“If it’s no trouble,” Bakugou states grandly, as if mocking him would stir faster movement.
“I’d be remiss if I did not tend to your every beck and call,” Todoroki says back, but in his default deadpan voice, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. “He’s alive and set to face trial the second he’s out of the care unit,” Todoroki pauses and looks up at Bakugou. “The most pertinent detail is that no one, but you, was too hurt.” Bakugou smiles and crosses his arms behind his head.
“Another successful mission then.” Todoroki wanted to be here to comfort him as he healed, not cause any extra stress or onset unnecessary duress, but seeing him in a hospital bed and yet still so smug alights a spark of fury in his heart of hearts. The sight of men too boastful to see their damage had never rubbed Todoroki well, but especially when the damage was needlessly self-inflicted and he still refuses to acknowledge that.
“Yes, it would be a success if you were a rookie.” He picks his words carefully and attacks Bakugou’s sense of pride. Unsurprisingly, it gets the intended reaction.
“Did you fucking pass out alongside me? Did you not see my super move that instantaneously ended that fight?”
“That wasn’t a super move, that was a stupid move.”
“Eloquently put.”
“Bakugou I’m—” he pauses when he hears his heightening tone of voice and takes a breath— “I’m being serious. Zero casualties is always the goal, and that includes your own well being too.”
Bakugou stares at him in disbelief. “We’re heroes. Danger is a part of the job.” They stare at each other, letting the tension soak between them and cause a stalemate. Todoroki hates when he gets like this. When reason isn’t enough to end an argument. Usually, he never tries to give unsolicited advice to anyone, let alone Bakugou: he’s an adult for crying out loud. But being here to witness Bakugou’s hospitalization while knowing full well that Todoroki is the one that failed to stop Bakugou from hurting himself… It all felt so personal.
Their relationship is indecipherable, yet nonetheless, his heart aches slightly when he thought about Bakugou’s arms that are momentarily out of commission.
“And if you lost your quirk? Or worse, your life?” There’s no pause or hesitance as Bakugou answers.
“We got lucky to have cornered him in an abandoned sector of the city, but I did what I did to stop him from escaping into another district,” he says. “I’d do anything to stop a villain. That much will never change.” Todoroki holds back, not knowing what more he could say. He pats the blankets and smoothens some of the bunched up parts.
Bakugou’s altruism is as impregnable as always. Todoroki finds himself wishing he could somehow instil the concept of knowing one’s own limits within him, but it was obvious he isn’t getting through that thick skull. “Talking to you is like talking to a sentient wall of spikes,” he concludes. “I’ll just go back to ignoring you.” A scoff from the bed makes Todoroki narrows his eyes.
“You could never ignore me.”
“You think too highly of yourself,” he says.
The next few moments are spent in silence. They both pretend to not notice each other. Bakugou tends to his so-called ‘shitty excuse for a pudding’ and Todoroki claims the one table in the room and attempts to get some paperwork done now that he knew Bakugou was awake, and back to his exasperating self.
Maybe half an hour into his work, Todoroki deems himself worthy of a break. He swivels in his chair and sees Bakugou still sitting upright and slowly bending his arms in and out, in and out. He’s making progress despite the pain. He watches the almost hypnotic pattern and his unoccupied mind threatens to turn to goop from boredom when he suddenly remembers the gifts he brought.
He gets up and his shoes squeak on the freshly polished floors. Stretching slightly, Todoroki does not fail to smirk when he notices how quickly Bakugou’s eyes shift to him. He ignores the temptation and pulls a tote bag from under the bed and dumps the contents on top of Bakugou’s legs.
A handful of books spread across the blanket.
Bakugou stares at him, unimpressed. “What is all this?”
“Surely you’re not illiterate, Bakugou,” Todoroki teases eyeing which book to suggest first.
“Do you expect me to read ten books in one day?”
“I just had trouble discerning your taste.” His hand picks up a red cover and hands it off.
“Ebooks exist you know.”
“I somehow knew you’d prefer physical copies.” Todoroki picks up his own book and pushes the rest back into the bag for another rainy day. “I hope you like The Illistrated Man,” he chimes, taking a seat next to Bakugou again. “If not I have plenty more where that came from.” Carding through the pages, Todoroki stops at his dog eared page and begins to read. He is very quickly interrupted as a hand is dropped and splayed across the text.
“Did you go and get these yourself?” Todoroki nods slightly confused. “Why?”
“Because I thought you might want to feel preoccupied,” he replies, shifting in his seat, “you’re not used to being immobile for this long.”
Bakugou scowls and leans back onto the bed. He carefully examines the book in his hand, reading the front cover then the back, before finally opening it to the beginning. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
They then settle into their own text adventures, sitting in comfortable silence.
If it had not been so quiet, Todoroki may have not heard it, but with the low hum of the machines a quiet ‘thank you’ is whispered from next to him. Todoroki bottles it up to treasure forever and smiles.
His arm wanders back onto the bed and gently squeezes Bakugou’s hand. Even at its weak state, it radiates warmth and comfort. With dawn filtering through the room’s blinds and colouring everything in an ombre hue, Todoroki pulls Bakugou’s hand close and lays a soft kiss. Wriggling free, it moves upwards and cups his cheek.
Todoroki gets up and leans over Bakugou, eyes blinking at each other. A sense of magnetism pulls his head down and they touch lips softly. “You really didn’t have to stay, Shouto,” Bakugou mumbles once more.
“You’re my sun,” he explains, “you’ll always be at the centre of my universe.”
“Fuck off,” Bakugou rolls his eyes as his cheeks glow a little redder.