Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bakugou wasn’t an eavesdropper.

It wasn’t his fault if fuckwads like Deku chose to have all their supposedly secret and super personal conversations in public like fucking idiots. If those morons couldn’t figure out how the hell to talk in private, then they couldn’t say shit if he stumbled upon them and heard all their dumbass secrets.

Sure, he could leave, but where would the fun be in that? Part of him relished in being able to learn all the idiots’ secrets because of their own stupidity.

Though this time, he was reconsidering his decision.

“Thanks for meeting me out here, Todoroki-kun.”

It was shitty Deku. Of course it was, and Bakugou wasn’t even that surprised to see the halfie out here too. That candy-cane-looking motherfucker seemed to follow behind wherever Deku went like a lost chick following its mom. It was fucking weird, if you asked him.

Why follow Deku?

“It’s fine, but why are we out here, Midoriya?”

That’s what Bakugou wanted to fucking know. He was just minding his own damn business, walking to the cafeteria. That damn Ectoplasm had held him back to talk about his paper, so now he only had about 20 minutes to go buy lunch and eat. What a damn pain on its own, but now he had to deal with these two dumbasses just standing there in public in what definitely looks like a private conversation.

Sure, the corridor they’re in was pretty much completely abandoned, since the only rooms here were supply closets and shit, but that didn’t mean it was completely out of the way. Bakugou had stumbled across it after all, and it wasn’t like he was looking for this sorta nonsense.

“We should head back soon, lunch’ll be over soon,” Todoroki continued.

Even without seeing his face, Bakugou could feel the halfie’s confusion. Huh, that made two of ‘em, because Bakugou really had no idea what the hell he was still doing here. Still, he didn’t trust those two getting all sneaky and shit together. If he left ‘em alone for two long, they’d probably start plotting on how to get rid of Bakugou so they could claim the top hero spot.

Ha, as if. Bakugou was gonna wipe the floor with those damn losers.

“A-Ah, right! Well, uh, it’s just, I wanted to tell you something, uhm, important. I’ve been wanting to, to tell you for a while now.”

From here, Bakugou could easily shitty Deku’s expression, and he wasn’t all that surprised to see him blushing. He was always some damn shade of red, getting embarrassed over one thing or another and crying more often than not. So damn annoying.

He was fidgeting though, something that Bakugou thought the nerd grew out of in their first year. Not just a little twiddle of the thumbs or normal shit that even people like Shitty Hair and Racoon Eyes did. This was full-on, can’t stand still, wringing his fingers out sorta fidgeting. God, it looks so dumb just looking at it.

“…well? What is it?”

“Well, I—! Uhm, I mean, I just—”

“Midoriya.”

“I really like you!”

What the fuck.

Bakugou froze.

He’d overheard on a lot of weirdass things before. From back in first year when he found himself listening to Half-n-Half’s whole tragic backstory, to just a few days ago when he learned just a little too much of Sound Girl and Dunce Face’s kinks. He just heard a lot of shit, from annoying, to creepy, to downright strange.

But this might just take the cake.

Was fucking Deku… confessing?

God, he almost revealed himself just so he could laugh in shitty Deku’s face.

“I mean, we’ve been friends since last year, and we’ve had to go through so much together, but you’ve always been so supportive and you’ve always stuck by my side no matter all the weird stuff we got involved in, and you’ve trusted me even when you never intended to make friends in the first place, and I just really like being around you and I just wanted to make myself say it—”

“Midoriya, you’re rambling again.”

Oh fuck, scratch that. He’d reveal himself just to see the look on fucking Todoroki’s face.

“O…Oh, right.”

“Anyway, me too.”

“H-huh?”

Bakugou gaped. No way. No way was he about to stand here and witness these two shitty nerds getting together and being all mushy and running off into the sunset. That was not how he was spending his damn Wednesday, courtesy be damned. He was just about to boisterously announce his presence—while pretending he didn’t hear shit, of course—just to make the whole fiasco stop, when Todoroki spoke again.

“I like being around you too. You’re a great friend.”

Silence.

Holy fuck.

This couldn’t be happening.

A mix of exasperation, shock, and glee bubbled up in Bakugou’s stomach as the realization hit him.

Todoroki didn’t fucking know it was a confession.

Oh god, that bastard was dense as a brick, and this was blackmail gold.

“N…No! I mean, yes, you’re a great friend, but I meant—”

Shitty Deku looked near tears now, unsurprisingly, but he shut up weirdly quick as he just stared at Todoroki. Bakugou wasn’t sure what he saw in the halfie’s face, but whatever it was, it made him sniffle a little before smiling weakly.

“Never, nevermind!” he chirped in that stupidly cheery voice of his. “I’m really glad we’re friends, Todoroki-kun! I hope we can stay friends for a long time.”

“Me too, but what brought this on? Is this… is this because of that movie we watched yesterday? You got all emotional, hugging Iida and all—”

“N-no! It’s nothing! Don’t worry about it! Let’s go back and eat!!”

God, Deku wasn’t subtle at all, frantically twitching as he shook his head and hands wildly in denial and sniffled a few more times.

“Are you sick? I heard from Asui that there’s a cold going around.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry! Let’s go, I’m starving! Ha ha ha…”

Trying to ignore the swell of disgust and something else in his chest, Bakugou turned on his heel and power-walked—he didn’t run—to the cafeteria.

Fuck this shit, now he only had 15 minutes for lunch.

-

“You’re distracted.”

That was the first thing Todoroki said to him all day, though he supposed that wasn’t so surprising considering they don’t usually talk anyway.

“Hah?!”

“You’re slower than usual,” Todoroki said, as though that explained anything, before shooting another sharp spear of ice his way.

Bakugou melted it with an explosion that was probably too big to be necessary, but Aizawa-sensei did nothing but scoff at him, so it was fine. They were doing basic combat training with a focus on limiting property damage today. Or, well, it was supposed to be capture training, where they had the choice to either defeat their opponent in combat, or they could capture them in handcuffs.

As if Bakugou would take that pussy route out.

Somehow, by an absolutely awful draw of luck, Todoroki and Bakugou were paired up to spar from the randomizer. Yeah, great fucking idea—pairing up two of the most destructive students in class, have them fight, and tell them not to destroy shit.

Like that’d work.

“Piss off, I can beat you with half a brain,” he snarled as he fired off an AP Shot, ignoring Aizawa’s yells telling him not to wreck anything.

“That implies you have a brain to begin with,” Todoroki said wryly, and Bakugou saw red.

Fuck this. Fuck shitty Deku and his weird crushes. Fucking this halfie bastard and his stupid obliviousness. That wasn’t his fucking problem, and he didn’t know why he’d let himself fixate on that shit for so damn long. Let the two shitty nerds deal with these incompetence on their own—no matter what, Bakugou was gonna crush him.

“The fuck you say?!”

The fight was fucking fantastic after that. If there was one thing Bakugou could appreciate from halfie, it was that he knew how to put up a good fight, and never stood down. He was like Bakugou more than he wanted to admit—he didn’t give a shit about arbitrary rules, didn’t care if he was causing more damage than was allowed. He just wanted to fight, for his pride’s sake, and Bakugou was more than happy to oblige.

What had he been so distracted about before? He forgot, and he sure as hell didn’t care.

They go at it for longer, pounding into each other until Aizawa forcibly removed their quirks and physically separated them from each other—by fucking chucking them across the room from each other.

“That’s enough,” Aizawa all but growled. Bakugou barely bit back a snappy retort when he heard their teacher mutter something along the lines of “useless problem children.”

Scoffing, he forced himself up and out of the simulation area, kicking a rock as he went. He probably wouldn’t score the hottest on this exercise, seeing the two buildings and numerous lampposts he managed to collapse. Seeing Todoroki—perfect, goody-two-shoes, friends-with-shitty-Deku nerd Todoroki— doing at least half the damage that he did to the city simulation was more than enough reconciliation. The halfie was better with more willing to use his fire now, but he certainly took up a tenet for getting wilder with it, if the melted cars were anything to go by. It was funny—he’d spend so much time learning to control his fire, limit the destruction it caused, but the second he’d battle with Bakugou, all pretenses of control were lost.

It was more than satisfying, and Bakugou liked to think it was karmic retribution for that shit he pulled at the Sports Festival their first year.

“Todoroki-kun, Bakugou-kun, that was irresponsible displays of—”

“Shut up, Four Eyes,” Bakugou said gruffly as they walked back into the monitoring room.

“Sorry, Iida,” Todoroki muttered, glancing at Bakugou in what he probably thought was a subtle way. Ha, like the shitty halfie knew anything about subtlety.

‘You’re a great friend.’

“Tch.” Bakugou looked away, walking over to where Kirishima was waving him over.

“Oi, Bakugou, the hell was that? Sensei’s gonna be pissed at you two, y’know—”

“Shut it, Shitty Hair.”

Leaning against the wall with a small huff, Bakugou watched the rest of the matches with unveiled disinterest. He didn’t really care about these shitty extras, but he figured he had to watch at the very least so none of them would be able to pull any damn surprises on him when they fought. Not like it’d matter—surprises or not, Bakugou would always fucking win.

He was in the middle of watching Frog Girl camouflage into a wall when he was forcibly pulled from his thoughts.

“It won’t work.”

Bakugou snapped his head over to see none other than the shitty halfie beside him. He wasn’t looking at him, staring at the screen instead, but it was clear he was talking to Bakugou and no one else.

“Hah?!”

“Jirou can still hear her breathing if she listens through the walls,” Todoroki continued, ignorant to any confusion at his presence. Despite himself, Bakugou scoffed as he looked back at the screen.

“As if,” he found himself saying instead. “The shitty frog can breathe through her skin for at least two minutes, and even Sound Girl’s quirk can’t hear that.”

“But her heartbeat—”

“’Sides,” Bakugou interrupted, leaning into to watch the match closer. “She’s not tryna fucking hide.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bakugou could see Todoroki’s eyes widen a bit, but he tried not to pay any attention to it as he watched the fight instead.  Asui’s almost completely blended into the wall now, and just as predicted, Jirou used her quirk to listen in for her. Grinning, the girl pulled her earphone jacks from the ground beneath her and directed them towards the wall where Asui was standing. Sending off a small blast of vibrations Asui’s way, she winced only a little when the wall crumbled instead.

But Asui wasn’t there.

“Shit—”

She whipped her head around, frantically searching for Asui. As her head was turned, Jirou failed to notice that just above the crater her sound attack had made into the side of the building, was Asui slowly fading her body back into visibility.

She had used the second after Jirou stopped listening to move out of the way. It wasn’t that hard to predict, Bakugou figured. The freaky frog girl could jump fucking high, and she could stick to practically anything with her hands and feet with no problem. From where she was perching, higher up on the wall, it gave her the perfect vantage point to throw herself in for a jumping sneak attack.

“I see,” Todoroki said. “I hadn’t realized her cloaking would hold even if she moved.”

Todoroki’s commentary was bland and flat as always, but Bakugou could hear the slight approval in his voice. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“’Course it would, it’s all one fucking wall, idiot.” Did people really think halfie was smart? “Cloaking works so long as the surroundings don’t change. Shouldn’t you know this shit? She’s part of your nerd group, isn’t she?”

“I forgot.”

Bakugou scoffed, but said nothing else as he watched Asui wrap her tongue around Jirou’s wrist, yanking her closer with one swift tug before she got the handcuff on her.

“Anyway, the fuck are you doing here?”

“Huh?” When Bakugou didn’t say anything, Todoroki just tilted his head in confusion. “I wanted to know what you thought.”

“You—”

He cut himself off with a click of the tongue as a realization hit.

Right, halfie always did this.

He’d wander over to wherever Bakugou was, eyes unwaveringly watching their classmates fight, and discuss strategies with him. He didn’t do it all the time, but whenever he didn’t feel like discussing strategy with shitty Deku, he’d come to Bakugou instead.

Bakugou tried to think back on it, but he couldn’t actually remember when it had started, when he had started letting Todoroki of all people converse with him. Knowing himself, he must have been against it at some point, but when did he start reluctantly engaging and sharing tactical ideas with the halfie? Weirdly enough, he certainly didn’t seem to mind it.

Even now, after the sudden shock had passed him, he realized he didn’t really mind having him around. The halfie, for better or for worse, had an eye for battle plans and observations, and he was certainly more interesting to talk to about these things than fucking Kirishima or someone else. It still didn’t explain why he had started tolerating Todoroki of all people, but the more he tried to come up with an excuse for it, the more his head hurt.

 “Whatever.”

They watch in silence as Aizawa gives both Asui and Jirou critiques on their battle, while sending out the next pair—Kouda and Kirishima—out to the training space.

“You okay?”

Bakugou startled a bit, turning his head to see Todoroki actually staring at him this time.

“Wha—?”

“I meant what I said back there.” Todoroki’s voice was soft, in a way Bakugou wasn’t used to hearing at all. “You seemed distracted. Usually nothing distracts you from a fight.”

Bakugou bit back a snarl. No, he didn’t want to think about fucking Deku, blushing like a shitty school girl in a TV show, confessing to his crush only to get shot down by Todoroki’s ignorant ass. Didn’t want to think about what Todoroki might do if he actually realized what shitty Deku was saying. Didn’t want to think about—

“You were just too boring to pay attention to,” he retorted instead, huffing a little laugh when a small smile pulled up on Todoroki’s lips.

“I guess I’ll have to be more interesting next fight.”

Kouda and Kirishima’s fight was starting, and Bakugou was not going to think about that smile for any longer.

Chapter Text

Problem was, Bakugou had to live with the curse of being unbearably observant.

Not in the Todoroki way, where he was constantly alert for signs of battle and ready to take up arms at any second, but outside of a fight he couldn’t have a damn clue about anything. Not in the Deku way, either, where he would note down every tiny detail he discovered about someone and remember it later no matter much time had passed.

It was more… he was keen to things that happened around him. He’d notice different clothes or new haircuts or improved fighting techniques before anyone else. He picked up on social cues around him, even if he didn’t choose to follow them most of the time. He was good at picking up even the slightest nuances in someone’s behavior, both on and off the training grounds.

So really, it was only a matter of time before he noticed Deku.

Shitty, shitty Deku, who started clinging to Todoroki like nothing else. It wasn’t like he wasn’t already clingy, always insisting Todoroki come out for this and that hangout or event regardless of the halfie’s inability to socialize. They’d always stuck around each other, ever since first year’s sports festival, with Todoroki following along like a confused alien trying to integrate with humanity.

But this. This was a whole other story.

Sure, most people probably wouldn’t notice a difference. From the outside, it just looked like they were doing normal shit like eating lunches together, studying together, that sort of thing. Those nerds always hung out together anyway, along with Class Rep, Round Face, and the frog girl. Nothing had changed about any of that.

But there were other, much smaller changes that Bakugou found glaringly obvious.

Shitty Deku would stare at Todoroki for longer than usual, practically any time the boy wasn’t looking. He’d always insist on sitting next to Todoroki too, but through pushing his way into he seat next to him with his arms instead of with his words. And the thing that fucking jumped out at Bakugou the most, so much it practically punched him in the face, was the name change.

“Shouto-kun!”

When the fuck had that happened?

Not a single damn person called Todoroki by his first name, not after a year of knowing each other—least of all fucking Deku. But he didn’t mishear. Deku was there, fucking calling out to Todoroki by his given name, and the halfie was totally okay with it.

The hell?

“What are you up to?” Deku asked, in probably what he thought was a casual way. As though he wasn’t practically sprinting to catch up with Todoroki.

Bakugou was just in the common room, watching as Kirishima and Kaminari were trying to fuck each other up in some shooter game, when Todoroki came out of the elevator. Deku, who’d been on the other side of the room doing homework or some shit, had immediately perked up on seeing him and rushed over.

“Hm? Oh, I was gonna make some tea,” Todoroki responded, pausing to wait for Deku. “What about you?”

“Oh, just trying to get that history paper done for Midnight-sensei!”

Fuck Deku. Fuck him and his chirpiness and his touchiness and all his ridiculous pining. Bakugou didn’t want to watch, but it wasn’t like he had a fucking choice when shitty Deku was practically clinging to Todoroki’s arms like a damn koala. And fuck the halfie for going along with it. Really, who in their right mind would be okay with someone just hugging their whole ass arm, for no god damn reason? Clearly Todoroki was batshit insane.

“Have you gotten all your homework done?” Deku continued, and Todoroki shook his head. “You should join us! We’re getting a lot of work done!”

Todoroki blinked at that, shaking his head slightly after a minute.

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to bother—”

“It’s not a bother! It’s always nice studying in groups. Besides,” Deku lowered his voice, stage-whispering conspiratorially, “Hagakure-san could really use your help on the math homework.”

“I heard that!” Invisi-bitch complained from nearby, though she didn’t deny what Deku said.

“C’mon, join us!” Deku insisted.

It was disgusting, watching him tug at halfie’s arm and fawning over him like a damn fangirl. Bakugou rolled his eyes but went back to watching Kirishima’s character get sniped in the head for the fourth time. He forced himself not to look over when Todoroki reluctantly agreed, saying he’d make his tea and get his books from his room before joining them.

Just a minute later, Bakugou actually managed to get himself hooked in on Kirishima and Kaminari’s stupid game. He usually hated these stupid things, but he had to admit it was pretty damn satisfying shooting Sparky’s character in the dick over and over again. Hell, he didn’t even know how much time had passed just like that; he just knew it had been a good while. The sounds of a kettle going off, the elevator dinging repeatedly, and books thudding against a table completely went over his head as he immersed himself in the game completely.

He was just about to throw a grenade down one of Shitty Hair’s camps, when a tap on the shoulder made him startle—he did not jump.

“The fuck—” he started, only to clamp his mouth shut when he saw who it was.

Half-n-Half?

“Bakugou,” Todoroki said blankly, and he resisted the urge to flip the man off right then and there. Instead, he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“The hell you want?” he snapped when Todoroki didn’t say anything.

That was when he noticed something being pushed his way. He let his eyes flicker down from Todoroki’s dumb face, only to see a notebook being presented in front of him. There was writing scribbled all over the pages, a little bit smudged and hard to read. Faded lines and micro-tears in the paper indicated that the words and drawings on the page had been erased numerous times on the same spot.

“What?”

“From the physics homework,” Todoroki explained. “I keep getting a negative mass and I can’t figure out why.”

And? The fuck you want me to do about it?

The words were on the tip of Bakugou’s tongue, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t find himself to spit them out. Todoroki was asking for help. Sure, he didn’t ask it directly, but Bakugou knew he’d never get an outright request from him. That was just how the halfie worked. Still, he had his little nerd squad to ask. Round Face was hopeless at this shit, but Four Eyes had some of the highest grades in the class, and Yaoyorozu was class tutor for a damn reason. Not to mention Froggy, or hell—even shitty Deku could help him!

So why the fuck was he coming to Bakugou?

“Give it here, dumbass,” he muttered.

Despite his demand, he snatched the notebook before Todoroki could even make to hand it to him. Choosing to ignore the curious look he got in response, Bakugou let his eyes scan over the problem, his face curling up into a grimace as he instantly realized the issue.

“You used the wrong fuckin’ equations.” He pointed an accusatory finger at one of the earlier parts of Todoroki’s answer. “This shit here? It doesn’t account for air resistance. Idiot.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Fucking dumbass.”

“But wait, if I change that to this—wait, one sec.”

Todoroki was suddenly standing up straight—when did he lean over?—and rushing back to the couches where had been sitting with the nerds. Bakugou’s eyes followed the movement against his will, and lingered a little when he saw Deku looking up from his own papers to watch. But then the halfie was back, leaning back down with a pencil now in his hand as he grabbed for the paper and forced Bakugou’s attention back on him.

“So if I do this,” he said, writing as he spoke. “Wouldn’t that mean that I can’t use this…”

Bakugou didn’t know how much time passed that way. Before he could help it, he was running through scenario after scenario with Todoroki, pointing out all of his stupid mistakes as he said them. From shit like not keeping track of his signs—either up or down is positive, choose one!—to fucking up units of measurement, there were so many tiny, dumb mistakes the halfie was making. It was a wonder he’d made it this far being such a fucking dumbass, let alone as one of the “smartest” kids in the class.

Ha, if that wasn’t the biggest fucking joke.

“Got it, you Half-n-Half bastard?” he snapped as they finished the last problem.

The last one. When Todoroki had come to him, he’d only been about halfway through the entire problem set. They’d done up to nine problems together, with Todoroki working quietly and dutifully while intermittently interrupting Bakugou’s videogame playing and asking for help.

Wait, when had the halfie taken a seat by him? And why the fuck did Bakugou let him?

“Yeah,” Todoroki said, and Bakugou was struck by how soft his voice was. He snapped his head up, only to see the halfie smiling. At him.

The fuck.

“I think I’m good,” he continued, heterochromatic eyes roaming over his paper as though to double check. Seeming satisfied with his work, Todoroki nodded, before looking back at Bakugou. “Sorry for bothering you, Bakugou.”

Why was he apologizing?

“Tch, whatever. Now beat it, halfie.”

Despite himself, Bakugou let his eyes trail after Todoroki as he stood up and walked back over to the nerd crew. His eyes flickered down, only to see Deku watching Todoroki intently. Their eyes met for a second, and Bakugou’s taken aback by the unreadable expression on his face. Shitty Deku was an open book, always had been—he wasn’t allowed to have a look like that. It was annoying and it meant Bakugou couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and he hated that.

Scoffing, he looked away, snatching the controller out of Shitty Hair’s hands to throw his character off a cliff. The violence was less satisfying than it should have been, and he clicked his tongue at the thought. Without another thought, he kicked himself off the couch and muttered that was going to bed.

Ignoring Kaminari’s complaints about how it was too early to go to sleep, he trudged over to the elevator. He probably should have gone to the kitchen to get some water first, but he didn’t want to be in that suffocating common room for even a minute more. Sparing a last glance at the couches, he let that split of red and white hair be the last thing before the elevator doors closed behind him.

Fucking annoying.

Chapter Text

Bakugou fucking hated the winter, for a multitude of reasons.

As much as he loathed to admit it, the weather getting colder fucked up his quirk. It was too cold for him to sweat buckets, and it meant he had to go extra lengths to keep his quirk up to standard. He would not stand for being weaker, no matter the time of year, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed purposefully smothering himself in heat packs and making seasonal adjustments to his costume just so he’d have enough sweat ammunition to pull off his normal scale of attacks.

Not to mention, winter was the season for optimistic nutcases to come out, screaming about love and positivity and all that bullshit. Everyone was out there, trying to come up with excuses to go out and play in the freshly fallen snow like bumbling idiots. With lights and decorations galore scattered all over the place, people were practically buzzing with “holiday spirit.” And don't even get Bakugou started on the number of times he'd get dragged out for ice skating. He didn’t see the damn point in trying to glide over ice like some sorta weird jumping contortionist dancer freak, and he certainly didn’t care to fall on his ass a hundred times.

But probably the worst, absolute worst about winter, was the sickness.

Because for whatever reason, whenever shit got colder and drier, the whole world stopped being able to take care themselves. Everyone would start collapsing with colds and flus and all sorts of shit. He didn’t care if it was an "extremely contagious virus" or whatever that was being spread around. It wasn’t his fault if shitty extras couldn’t take care of their bodies enough to prevent some dumb infection.

After all, Bakugou didn't have a problem with getting sick. He was loud and proud when it came to boasting about his immune system. Practically perfect, like everything he did. He could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d gotten sick in his 17 years of life, and he wasn’t about to make it to two hands any time soon, as far as he was concerned. He kept himself in tip-top shape, at all times. No matter what it was, there was no way in hell he’d let himself catch anything; a cold would only slow him down and make him weak.

Unfortunately, though, him being healthy didn’t mean he was immune from watching other idiots suffer. He’d lost track of the number of fucking bowls of soup he's made, of empty pill bottles he's cleaned up, of disinfectant wipes he's used so far. Really, it felt like every other day, one asshole or another was coming down with something, and it was driving him fucking insane. If it wasn’t Kirishima, it was Ashido, or Jirou, or Tokoyami. All these dumb extras couldn’t take care of themselves and needed Bakugou to care for them instead like useless children. They were practically drowning in tissue boxes at this point, and Bakugou swore to all that was good and holy, if heard another person sneeze, he’d blast the whole dorm down.

“Achoo!”

Okay, that was fucking it.

Bakugou snapped his head over to the side, fingertips already tingling with sparks as he looked for the culprit, but he found himself gaping at what he saw instead.

“Shouto-kun! Are you getting sick?”

There was Todoroki, face in his hand as he rubbed as his nose a little bit and grimaced. And of course, where the halfie was, shitty Deku followed. He’d already handed a tissue over to Todoroki, who accepted it with a small thanks.

“’Course not,” he said.

He blew his nose into the tissue, but as predicted, there was no noise to it, meaning probably nothing came out. Of course he wasn’t sick, that’d just be stupid.

Pulling the tissue away from his face, Todoroki folded up it into a square— because of course he fucking did— before setting it onto the table next to his soba bowl.

“Are you sure? That was a pretty intense sneeze,” Deku asked, eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern.

“I’m fine, Midoriya.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but smirk at that. For whatever reason, the halfie hadn’t taken to using Deku’s first name like he had, and he’d overhead shitty Deku complaining about it more than once to Round Face.

“Todoroki-kun, it’s imperative that you take your health seriously—”

“I don’t get sick,” Todoroki cut Iida off. “Haven’t since I was a kid.”

“Eh? I thought only idiots don’t get sick,” Jirou pitched in, before putting a finger to her lip, pondering. “…like Kaminari.”

“Hey!” Sparky exclaimed indignantly. “I resent that!”

“Good.”

“But seriously, Todoroki, are you sure—”

“I can regulate my body temperature with my quirk,” Todoroki deadpanned. “Kinda hard to get sick when I can constantly keep myself at body temperature all the time.”

“But still,” Kirishima said, “there’s a pretty nasty flu going around now. You gotta be careful, man!”

“Really, I’ll be f—achoo!”

The sudden sneeze stunned everyone, Todoroki most of all. Even Bakugou watched with widened eyes as Todoroki looked away sharply, the tips of his ears reddening as he snatched his folded tissue from the table

“Oo, maybe someone’s thinking about you!” Ashido chirped up suddenly.

Scoffing, Bakugou went back to the spicy ramen bowl on his tray. Vaguely, he wondered when exactly their class started eating together as a group, but he quickly decided he didn’t want to think about it. Thinking about it validated it, and the last thing he wanted to do was accept that these shitty group lunches were actually real. Instead, he liked to pretend they were nothing more than a nightmarish fever dream he got lost in after suffering through Cementoss’s dragging literature classes.

“How romantic!” Yaoyorozu added, clasping her hands together as her eyes sparkled at Ashido's idea. “Someone must be quite interested in you, then, Todoroki-san!”

Unable to help himself, Bakugou’s eyes flicked up to Todoroki at that point, but it was shitty Deku that quickly caught his eye. He was blushing, actually fucking blushing, as he practically buried himself in his katsudon.

God, if Lunch Rush’s food wasn’t so damn good, he might have actually puked at the sight.

“Not really,” Todoroki muttered, unbothered as he set the tissue down and continued eating. “That’s just superstition anywa—choo! Ugh.”

“A-ah, Shouto-kun, take a new tissue!” Deku chirped up suddenly, when he finally managed to drag his face out of his food. Frantically, he went for his tissue pouch, only to deflate when he found it empty. “Oh no…wait, let me check my bag, I’m sure I have more…”

Bakugou didn’t know why he did it. It was like he wasn’t controlling his own body, like his hands were just moving on autopilot as they suddenly dug into his jacket pocket. It only took a second for him to pull out what he was looking for, and before he could stop himself, he was shoving his hand out and presenting the plain white handkerchief in Todoroki’s direction.

“Here,” he snarled.

He glared even when Todoroki looked at him in surprise. Well, not just Todoroki—everyone at the table seemed to be in shock, gawking at him unabashedly. Shitty Deku looked like he had just seen a ghost, and somehow that astonishment was a great mood booster for Bakugou.

“You better not be getting sick, dumbass,” he snapped when no one said anything. “I’m not cooking any more damn soup.”

“Ah,” Todoroki said dumbly after a minute, taking the kerchief slowly. “Sorry ‘bout that, Bakugou.”

Trying to ignore the words, Bakugou looked away as Todoroki blew his nose. The sound was noticeably louder this time, with more mucous behind it, and he tried not to think of how gross it was. Oh well, he’d ask the old hag for more kerchiefs later. No way he wanted that one back now, anyway.

The lunch table was silent for a minute, before Round Face was picking up some random conversation about a celebrity he didn’t give a shit about. Regardless, it was enough to bring things back to normal. Everyone started talking again, the handkerchief forgotten by everyone except Bakugou.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Todoroki quietly stared at the cloth for a moment, before folding it up delicately and slipping it into his pocket. Deku’s eyes followed the motion too, lingering for just a little too long on his hand.

Huh. Maybe not everyone, then.

-

Something was wrong.

It never mattered whether they were just running a basic training drill, or if they were fighting for their lives against actual villains hellbent on killing them. No matter what the scenario was, that Half-n-Half bastard never threw a match, and he certainly never threw one by fucking passing out.

“Todoroki-kun!” Iida yelled.

They’d been doing combat training drills in pairs again, with the Todoroki-Iida team as the villains, and the Bakugou-Sero team as the heroes. They’d barely managed to locate where the villain team was and get a fight started, when Todoroki was faceplanting to the floor with the grace of a fish out of water.

“Ah!” Iida recoiled sharply from where he had kneeled down to grab his teammate.

“Oi, Class Rep, what’s wrong?” Sero asked, breaking the immersion and running over to the pair. “Wha—woah, shit! Todoroki’s burning up!”

“Hah?!” Bakugou snarled, walking over to the commotion. “What, the Half-n-Half bastard overheated himself or something—?”

“No!” Sero cut in. “Like, he’s literally burning up!”

That was when Bakugou had gotten close enough to see Todoroki, and—wow, he saw what Flat Face meant now.

He’d collapsed on his right side, curled up into a ball as his eyebrows furrowed tensely and his body quivered unconsciously. But what stood out the most, was the little inklings of flames kindled all across the left side of his body. From his bright red strands of hair, to his face, neck, and hands, it was like any patch of skin that wasn’t covered by his hero costume was literally on fire. The flames were small, but judging by the redness on Iida’s hands, they were hot enough to be concerning.

“What’s going on?”

Aizawa’s familiar barking cut through the room, via the speakers that littered the training gym. Even with his usual disinterested tone, there was a slight note of concern that was enough to make even Bakugou antsy.

“He just suddenly fainted!” Sero answered, still watching Todoroki tremble from a same distance. “We can’t touch him though, or we’ll get burned.” 

"Tape him up and drag him to the nurse," Bakugou said, half-joking, though Sero groaned at the suggestion.

"You want me to drag him, through the snow? 'Sides, he'd probably burn through my tape in like, a second."

“Maybe if Sensei erased his quirk, we could carry him to Recovery Girl?” Iida suggested, and Bakugou snorted.

“What happens when he blinks then, dumbass?” he retorted, and Iida’s face scrunched as he nodded.

“Yes, that’s true, I suppose.”

“Did something happen?” Sero asked instead. “Like, did he seem off before, or was it just now?”

“I… can’t say I noticed anything strange in Todoroki-kun’s behavior,” Iida admitted. “I suppose he’s been quiet all day, but it hardly seemed like anything out of the ordinary. I just presumed he had slept less than usual, or something of that sort.”

“Huh. I guess I didn’t notice anything either… Sensei, what should we do?”

“Stay there,” Aizawa’s gruff voice rang through the building again. “I’ll see what we can do about getting a fireproof gurney sent in from the nurse’s office. For now, you three stay the—”

“I’ll carry him.”

The words were out of Bakugou’s mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about them, and he was only just able to school his expression to hide his own internal shock. Iida and Sero openly gaped at him though,and even Aizawa had gone silent.

“T-that’s no—” Iida started, but Bakugou cut him off.

“My costume’s the only one that has fireproofing to it,” he explained, already in too deep to back out. “’Sides, my quirk means my skin’s practically impervious to burns. I’ll drag his ass over to Recovery Girl before he explodes on us or some shit.”

“C’mon, Bakugou, you don’t need to—”

“Shut it, Soy Sauce Face.”

Before either of them could voice any more complaints, he raised his head to one corner of the room, where he knew a monitoring camera was set.

“Oi, Sensei, that good with you?”

There was a pause, a moment of silence, before the static of the speakers was crackling again.

“Fine,” Aizawa relented. “But if it’s too much—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved vaguely in the camera’s direction to brush him off. “I got it. But it’s fine, this Candy Cane bastard can’t do shit to me.”

That was how Bakugou found himself plodding his way over to the nurse’s office, Todoroki on his back like a shivering deadweight. It was more than a bit awkward, seeing how the halfie had a few centimeters on him in height: something Bakugou still despised to this day. He constantly had to adjust the dumbass’s legs around his waist so he wouldn’t slip off, or so his feet wouldn’t drag against the floor and slow them down. His arms looped loosely around Bakugou’s shoulders, and his head was nestled into the crook of his neck.

Not to mention, the flames sparking out from his side sporadically. Bakugou’s left side was consistently warm, just from the constant fire from Todoroki, but occasionally something would stoke it and make it flare out more. He had to adjust more than once to make sure he didn’t catch anything or anyone on fire as he walked through U.A.’s endless corridors. Occasionally, when he flared out more than usual, Bakugou would feel a slight sting on the uncovered parts of his bodies, and he thanks the universe for the thick skin his quirk gave him.

What was surprising, though, and far more unpleasant than the flames, was the intense cold of Todoroki’s right side. He wasn’t forming any ice, thankfully, but somehow it still felt like that whole side was frozen over. It was annoying as fuck, especially considering how they had to go outside in the cold for a bit to walk from the gym to the main building where Recovery Girl’s office was. The split of heat and cold draping over Bakugou almost had him shivering, and he vaguely wondered if this was how the damned halfie felt all the time.

It was a miracle when he finally managed to drag both their asses over to the nurse’s office, and he practically threw Todoroki onto the nearest bed. There was already a few fire-retardant sheets layered on the mattress, meaning Aizawa must have called to let Recovery Girl know ahead of time that they were coming. Right now, she stared at Bakugou with a curious look for a minute, before sighing and turning to Todoroki.

The fuck did that old hag want?

“Sit down, I’ll deal with those burns on your arms in a minute,” she said, gesturing in the general direction of the waiting chairs next to the bed.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, but he plopped himself on the chair anyway.

He watched with poorly veiled interest as Recovery Girl examined Todoroki. She was running a whole slew of tests on him, from blood pressure to oxygen levels to reflex checks. Todoroki’s quivering hadn’t seem to go down at all, and Bakugou narrowed his eyes when he noticed hints of frost growing on his right hand. Recovery Girl had fireproof gloves on at this point as she used a stethoscope to listen to his heartbeat and breathing, and Bakugou couldn’t help but wince when he saw the plastic thermometer almost melt in Todoroki's mouth.

She continued with her tests like Bakugou wasn’t even there, and in response he looked away. He supposed he could just leave, go back to class and get some more training in. Hell, he could probably demand a redo of the training exercise, since Todoroki fucking blew the match after like a minute. If not, he could probably still drag Shitty Hair or someone out to spar with him for a bit. Or maybe—

“Alright, c’mere.”

He was dragged out of his thoughts when a small hand was tugging at his arm surprisingly hard, and he absolutely did not yelp when he went tumbling down to the ground on his knees. Grimacing when a sloppy wetness covered his skin, he tried not to move away from her kisses when he realized what was happening. Instead he sat quietly and let Recovery Girl do her thing. Just a few seconds later, he could already feel the slight tenderness and sting of burns on his skin healing, and while he supposed he should have acted grateful, he just yanked his arm away the second she was done instead.

“You kids are so irresponsible,” Recovery Girl chastised lightly, but let him move away as she walked back over to Todoroki’s bed.

“Shut up, hag,” Bakugou said, though there was less heat behind the words than he wanted. Huffing, he stood up and walked over to the bed with her. “So, what’s wrong with him?”

“He’s sick.”

“…the fuck?”

Memories from two days ago were suddenly rushing back into Bakugou’s head at her words. He remembered endless sneezing, his classmates’ teasing, shitty Deku’s blushing, and that god damn handkerchief—

“No way.”

Recovery Girl sighed and shook her head, walking away while Bakugou stared at Todoroki’s face in disbelief.

“Half-n-Half doesn’t get sick. Said it himself. It’s like, impossible. His quirk—”

“Anyone can get sick, Bakugou-kun,” she interrupted as she dug through one of her tall cabinets. “In young Todoroki’s case, it seems like he was overtaxing himself in some way. No matter what your quirk is, if you don’t take good care of yourself, your immune system will worsen, and you’ll get sick.”

She snatched a couple of bottles before heading back over to them slowly.

“He has the flu. It’s a pretty intense infection, from the looks of his throat and sinuses, meaning he probably hasn’t gotten a flu shot, and his body doesn’t have much natural immunity to it either. Unfortunately, it seems him getting sick also means he loses his ability to regulate his body temperature well. His left side is lashing out from this fever of his, while his right is trying to cool himself excessively to compensate. That, in turn, dehydrates him more, weakens him, and perpetuates a terrible, terrible cycle.”

“The fuck do we do then?” Bakugou snapped.

Had he been thinking rationally at all, he would’ve started wondering when this became a ‘we’ thing. But somehow, his mind was more fixated on the shivering Todoroki, who honest to god looked two steps away from death just because of the damn flu, and fuck if that wasn't kinda scary. Recovery Girl didn’t seem to notice his slip of the tongue either, or at least she didn’t care, as she shoved a couple of bottles into his hands.

“Well, the good news, is that this fainting spell of his seems to have been his body’s way of breaking the fever. He probably had it for a couple days but didn’t say anything, stubborn as he is. It’ll take him a while to get over the infection and come down to normal temperature, but with my healing and those pills, we should be able to avoid most of his flare-ups.”

She paused, thinking for a minute, before she moved to hobble over to her desk.

“Still, it’ll be hard to predict on our own any complications his quirk may give, but if we call his family, they may be able to give some insight. He must have gotten sick at some point before. Here.”

She stopped to scribble on a paper.

“Give this to Eraserhead. This child's not to go to any classes until he’s completely better. There's no telling how his quirk might impede on his healing process, so it's better not to risk anything and wait until we're sure he's healed. I’ll let him rest here until he wakes up, and after that it’s straight off to the dorms with him. You can go ahead and put those bottles in his room.”

Bakugou hesitated, for god knows whatever reason, and Recovery Girl sighed.

“I know you’re concerned for your friend—”

“Hah?!”

Concerned? Bakugou didn’t give two shits about the halfie. He could go collapse in a ditch for all he cared.

“—but go ahead and head back now. I’ll be trusting you to take care of him in the dorms.”

Bakugou was about to retort, to say he wasn’t about to do shit for that damn Half-n-Half bastard, when Recovery Girl was pinning him in place with her stare. She was looking at him with a bored, half-lidded gaze, as though challenging him to try and fight her on this. Clicking his tongue, he snatched the note and looked away. She probably just wanted him to make soup and shit for Todoroki like he’d begrudgingly done for the others when they got sick. It was a pain in the ass, but he could do it, he guessed.

“Whatever.”

Todoroki so owed him a good fight after this shit.

Chapter Text

Bakugou thanked whatever gods were out there that all this shit had gone down on a Saturday.

If he had to deal with the fallout of Todoroki getting sick on a school night, he probably would’ve torn his hair out in frustration before blasting another hole in the common room wall. As much as dealing with all the annoying extras asking him how Todoroki was doing pissed him off, he didn’t want to deal with extra classroom cleaning again if he could avoid it.

It’d taken a while, but eventually after grilling him with as many damn questions as they fucking could about Todoroki’s condition, the shitty extras finally left him alone in peace. Class was practically done by the time he’d gotten back from the nurse’s office, so it wasn’t long before they were all filing back into the dorms again to unwind for the night.

Time passed just like that, with everyone scattering around the dorm to do their own things. It wasn’t until a couple more hours had passed did anything change. Even from where he was tucked away in the kitchen, prepping dinner, Bakugou perked up as he heard the front door open. At this time of day, there was only one person it could be.

“Shouto-kun!”

Bakugou really should have ignored it, stuck to the stove where he was busy steaming some pork buns for dinner. From the sounds of it, shitty Deku was already there, busying himself over Todoroki like a moron, with some of the other extras there too. Bakugou didn’t need to be there, but for whatever reason, he found himself shutting off the stove and sticking his head out of the kitchen to watch from a distance.

The halfie didn’t look good, but he was at least a little better than before. He had changed out of his costume into his school uniform, and his body wasn’t covered in fire and frost like before. But that was about it for the good bits. His face was ridiculously flushed, his hair matted a bit from sweat and dark eyebags forming under his eyes, though it wasn’t as noticeable on his scarred left side.

He wasn’t shivering anymore, Bakugou realized belatedly. But that looked like it might change if people didn’t stop bombarding him with questions sometime soon.

“’m fine,” Todoroki said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Just tired. I’ll be okay—”

“But Shouto-kun—”

“You were literally on fire!”

“Did you take your meds?”

“What are you—”

“Oi!” Bakugou bellowed, shutting all the extras up in one go. They all turned to stare at him, and he tried to ignore their confusion and curiosity. “The fuck are you lot doing? Let the man breathe, for fuck’s sake!”

Guilt immediately permeated the air as their classmates backed away from Todoroki and gave him space. Even Deku stepped back, more sheepish than apologetic, and Bakugou scoffed at the sight of it. He was about to look away, go back into the kitchen to check on his pork buns, when he caught sight of two familiar, dual-colored eyes staring at him.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki said quietly. He started walking over to him without a care in the world, as though half their class wasn’t gawking at him. Even Bakugou found himself frozen in place as he approached. “You brought me over to Recovery Girl, right?”

“…What about it?” Bakugou said gruffly, refusing to break eye contact even as Todoroki’s eyes bore into him.

“Sorry for that.”

Huh?

“I didn’t mean to trouble you,” Todoroki continued, and it was hard to tell now if the flush on his face was from his fever, or from him being abashed.

“Tch,” Bakugou looked away, walking back into the kitchen and rolling his eyes as he felt Todoroki follow him. “You caused a damn panic, ya know that? Fucking idiots wouldn’t shut up about you passing out like a drama queen.”

“…Sorry.”

The apology didn’t sit well with Bakugou, but he ignored the unsettling feeling in his gut as he pulled his pork buns out of the steamer pot and set them on his plate. It looked like even though he had turned the stove off, the residual heat of the water had been enough to cook them through. Good for him.

“Whatever,” he said finally, when Todoroki kept lingering around him like a fucking lost puppy. “Your meds are in your room. Go drink some water and eat something, for now. You look like shit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Todoroki grimace.

“I don’t think I can stomach any food right now…” he trailed off, and Bakugou used the pause to note how nasally his voice sounded now, when it was blocked.

“Well fuck then, just drink water and go knock out or whatever. I’ll make some fucking okayu later though, so you better eat it or so help me god—”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Hah?!”

“Cook for me, I mean. I don’t want to trouble you. You already said you didn’t want to deal with cooking more sou—”

“You can rely on Bakugou, Todoroki!”

The fuck? What was Shitty Hair doing here now?

“Yeah, yeah! His cooking is like, the ultimate remedy for any cold!” Hagakure pitched in.

“I don’t want to bothe—”

“You won’t bother him! He’s great at taking care of us!” Ashido added.

What the hell was everyone staring at him like that for? All that hope and expectation glimmering in their eyes; it was disgusting. Even Todoroki, of all god damn people, was looking at him curiously, as though he wanted to ask but didn’t know how.

God, he hated this shitty class.

“Fine! Fucking fine! I said I’d make the damn food for him, so get off my back, you shitty extras!”

They were giggling, fucking giggling, now as they scattered away from the kitchen, and Bakugou wanted to blast each and everyone one of them. He didn’t, though, because Todoroki was still looking at him with that intrigued, but now slightly guilty expression.

“Ah, if it’s really not a problem with you…”

“Go relax, halfie,” Bakugou said, his voice softer than he wanted it to be. “You’re sick, so go do what sick people do and lie down. I’ll get you your soup in a little bit, and then you can sleep for a million years like you always want to. Capiche?”

“…Alright. Sorry, Bakugou.”

He didn’t justify Todoroki with a response. It wasn’t until he heard the telltale shuffling of slipper against the floor indicating that Todoroki had walked away, did he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Snatching up his plate, he sat himself down at the dining table. The sooner he finished eating, the sooner he’d be able to get Todoroki’s damn dinner ready, and the sooner he’d be able to forget any of this ever happened.

He cursed as he bit into his bun. Still too hot.

-

The rest of the night should have gone uneventfully.

He had his dinner in peace for once, and after he’d cleaned up his dishes, he set out to cooking up the rice porridge. They didn’t have a clay pot, so the flavor wasn’t the same as what he was used to back home, but it wasn’t like Todoroki was on his death bed—he could accept some rice cooker okayu.

And if Bakugou put extra pickled plum on top as a treat, then well, he didn’t acknowledge it.

Giving Todoroki the food wasn’t a big hassle either. He accepted it graciously, with surprisingly steady hands compared to before. He didn’t seem all too thrilled at the idea of eating in his room, and Bakugou could relate. The thought of it was gross, but Todoroki was hardly in any condition to leave his room, so he took it quietly and without complaints.

A couple more hours passed like that. Bakugou had settled into one of the couches in the common room, watching a Pro Hero interview with Ashido, Iida, and Aoyama at his side. It was a fairly interesting interview, with the Best Jeanist leading most of the discussion in regards to what happens when heroes get put out of commission, either temporarily or permanently.. With his former mentor at the forefront of it, Bakugou really should have been paying more attention. Yet for whatever reason, his mind kept wandering back to that Half-n-Half fuck.

He couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing now, if he’d been able to eat dinner without problem, if he was sleeping, if his fever had gone down. Aizawa had come in just a little while ago to give them a small announcement. They’d called Todoroki’s family, apparently, to ask about any issues his quirk might cause when he was sick.

His sister had been the one to answer, and she’d said that though it’d been years, Todoroki used to get sick plenty when his quirk first manifested. She explained that, as Recovery Girl hypothesized, he often lost his ability to regulate temperature properly when he was sick. With the control he had over his quirk now, his body would likely try to compensate subconsciously. So when his body kept heating up from the fever, the heat would accumulate drastically on his left side while his right side would lash out with ice as an attempt to cool him down.

It was a little concerning to hear, seeing as Todoroki hadn’t done any of that before, back when he'd fainted. No, instead of freezing up, he’d just literally caught on fire. He wasn’t sure what that meant for his fever, but it certainly didn’t seem good.

He also got dehydrated much quicker than normal people because of it, apparently. As he remembered that small tidbit of knowledge suddenly, Bakugou found himself moving before he could help it. Pushing himself up off the couch without a word, he trekked over to the kitchen. Filling the kettle up with water and turning it on, he dug through their cabinets for a familiar teapot and tea satchets.

It was this weird, fancy ass lemon ginger tea that Todoroki seemed to love no matter what time of year it was, and Bakugou tried not to think too hard on why it was that he knew what Todoroki’s favorite tea was. It’d be good for the sore throat and nausea, he told to himself. It was only logical to make it now.

He’d managed to boil the water and set the tea aside to brew for a few minutes, when suddenly, the elevator was dinging and Sato and Sero were stumbling out with heavy steps. They were panting, and it was only a second later when they started making a commotion.

“Yo, you guys, you gotta see this—”

“Todoroki’s gone wild, it’s—”

“Sato-kun, Sero-kun! What’s wrong?”

“Todoroki froze everything!”

What?

“I thought it was getting kinda chilly, but I didn’t realize what happened ‘til I stepped out of my room,” Sato grumbled, and Sero nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, there’s ice all over the walls and floors outside in our corridor.”

“It hasn’t gone into your rooms?” Iida asked.

“Nah, but when I tried to open Todoroki’s door, it was like it was frozen shut.”

That was how Bakugou found himself on the male side of the fifth floor, gaping at the fractals of ice covering the walls and seeping through the floors. With plenty of sugar in his system, Sato had managed to activate his quirk and pry open Todoroki’s door open, where they were faced with yet another problem.

A solid block of ice greeted them in the threshold, completely barring entry into the room.

“Okay, this is just ridiculous.”

“Do we call Aizawa-sensei? It’s not like we can melt all of this.”

“Todoroki must be asleep, since he hasn’t melted it on his own yet.”

“Can’t Sato or Midoriya just punch through it all?”

“C’mon man, I don’t wanna freeze my hands off!”

“A-ah, but what if it shatters and hurts someone, or hits Shouto-kun? I don’t know if—”

“Move aside, Shitty Deku,” Bakugou grumbled.

He quickly shouldered Deku away from the door as he shoved the teapot into his hands. Why he brought the tea up with him, he wasn’t sure, but he had to admit it was satisfying seeing the hot liquid almost splash on Deku from the spout. Rubbing his hands together to stimulate some sweating, he shifted his focus to the ice instead.

Even with the clarity of the ice, the darkness in Todoroki’s room made it near impossible to guess just how thick it was. Taking a deep breath, he pressed both of his palms to the block, only wincing slightly at the intense cold he immediately felt.

He took slow, steady breaths as he focused on his palms. Channel the sparks into small, clear streams. Aizawa’s words rang through his head as he felt tiny sparks building beneath his skin. Controlled, concentrated bursts began to exude from his palms and fingers, and he grinned as he felt the ice start to give beneath him. It wasn’t nearly as controlled and streamlined as just pure fire, but even he had these small tricks up his sleeve now to back up his usually massive explosions.

It took a while, but eventually, he managed to melt down a large hole in the block. When the ice grew more and more transparent, he knew he was getting close to the end. Ramping up the power of his blasts just a tad bit more, he watch as the rest of the ice splintered, before breaking off into tiny shards to reveal the inside of Todoroki’s room. Some of the ice at floor and at the top of the door’s threshold remained, but the rest of it fractured from the explosion, or melted and steamed from the residual heat.

With the ice at least partially gone now, light flowed into the room from the corridor and illuminated it just a bit more. It was still fairly dark, but Bakugou’s eyes narrowed in on his target in seconds.

There, tucked in the corner of the room on a messy futon, was Todoroki.

He was asleep from what they could tell, practically dead to the world even when Bakugou had practically blasted his way into the room. Even the chatter from outside the room didn’t seem to wake him up. But even in his deep sleep, it didn’t seem restful. No, he was tossing back and forth on the sheets, while his chest heaved with choppy breaths and strangled noises escaped his throat.

It was hard to tell with the poor lighting, but it looked like his right side was almost entirely frosted over. There were scorch marks on the sheets lining his left side, but there didn’t seem to be any actual fire at the moment. Instead, ice shot out from his right side, climbing up the walls and coating the floors like a frozen coffin.

Gritting his teeth, Bakugou turned halfway to snatch the teapot from Deku, before ducking under the residual ice and stepping carefully into the room.

“K-Kacchan, what—”

“Fuck off, you shitty extras,” he snapped, and before he could think to explain himself, he yanked Todoroki’s door shut in their faces.

They’d have questions later, he fucking knew it, but for someone reason, he couldn’t find himself to care.

Still facing the door, he took a deep breath before turning back into the room. His free hand fumbled for the light switch he knew was next to the door. Once light was flooding his eyes, he took a moment to view his surroundings. There was a small table by the door, which he was incredibly thankful for as he set the teapot down. The ice beneath his feet was fairly thin and crunchy under his slippers, almost like snow, but he still didn’t need to risk slipping and dropping the pot. He doubted shattered ceramics would make any of this shit better.

Bracing himself with bent knees to lower his center of gravity and outstretched arms, he slowly made his way over to where Todoroki was. His body shuddered against his will at the intense cold, but the thermostat was frozen over, so it wasn’t like he could try to turn on the heater. He toyed with the idea of blasting the ice off it, but he didn’t trust his control enough for such a small burst area.

He almost slipped in the last few steps to Todoroki’s futon, but he managed to hold himself just enough to get onto the futon himself. The cloth was probably frosted at some point too, but rather than covered in sharp, smooth ice, the futon was just uncomfortably damp and freezing.

“Oi, Half-n-Half,” he said lowly, shaking the boy by his freezing shoulder and speaking louder when he didn’t stir. “Yo, dumbass, get up!”

It seemed to be enough, as Todoroki’s already scrunched up face twitched, his eyes quivering for a minute before they slowly parted. He blinked slowly, as though trying to get his bearings. From this close of proximity and with the lights on, Bakugou could see every little detail of his exhausted face. He could see the lines that tension had worried into his face, the way the blush on his face was deeper on his left than his right, the chapped skin of his lips.

“Ba…kugou?” Todoroki rasped. God, he sounded just as bad as he looked, his usually smooth voice hoarse like he hadn’t a single drop of fluid in his whole system.

“Get up, idiot,” he huffed, tugging the other up harshly.

Todoroki didn’t seem to care, his mind too hazy with exhaustion and illness to really bother resisting. His head bobbed around limply, and Bakugou was suddenly worried he might've given the halfie vertigo on accident. Todoroki stopped after a few seconds though, blinking a few more times and trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes with one hand. After a minute, he lifted his head and looked around, squinting as he took in the state of his room.

“What happened?” he said weakly, and Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“You did.” He paused, taking in the slight downturn to Todoroki’s expression at his words, before he sighed. “C’mon. Clean this up, and you can have some tea.”

It felt like he was bribing a kid, the way he said it. Still, it seemed to work for Todoroki, as the boy almost immediately started moving and tried to stand on wobbly feet. It took him a couple moments to steady himself, but once he did, he quickly went to work.

Bakugou wasn’t really sure what to do, not wanting to risk his explosions losing control and causing any damage, so he just folded up the soaking futon and brought it into the bathroom. After he rung out as much moisture as he could, he chucked it into the laundry basket. By the time he had stepped out of the bathroom, Todoroki was about halfway through with defrosting the room, so he stayed in the threshold to watch.

He worked quickly and efficiently. The window was open to let steam out, but he still started with the walls and ceiling so that any residual water that didn’t vaporize to steam would drip down. The icy floors didn’t seem to be an issue for him, as he slowly but steadily glided across with practiced ease. 

Bakugou vaguely wondered if Todoroki had ever taken up ice skating before. He immediately banished the thought, though, as soon as his imagination started coming up with images of the halfie dressed as a figure skater. The look would fit Todoroki stupidly well, and Bakugou was trying desperately not to think about those long legs trapped in spandex, accentuating his— nope, no, absolutely not.

God, what was wrong with him today?

Shaking his head slightly, he focused his attention back onto what Todoroki was doing. He took a bit more time with the floors, trying to keep the heat in his left hand as controlled as possible to not only melt the ice, but also to dry the tatami without scorching it. From the scowl on his face, though, it looked like he wasn’t getting the exact results he wanted.

“Probably gonna have to replace all of this…” he muttered to himself. Bakugou said nothing.

He stayed still under the bathroom’s doorframe, until Todoroki was entirely finished. For the most part, he seemed fairly successful in his thawing, but Bakugou could see a couple of mild burn marks on the straw floors. He didn’t focus on them for long, though, because Todoroki was soon looking over at him once he was done.

“You mentioned tea?” he asked tiredly, and as much as Bakugou wanted to be a dick and deny him, he found himself just nodding quietly instead.

He walked over to grab the teapot he’d left at the table near the door, while Todoroki walked past him to fetch a couple of cups from his drawer. They settled at his low table on one side of the room, where there was the least amount of water or fire damage on the flooring beneath them.

The tea was likely mostly cooled at this point, so Bakugou wordlessly handed the pot to Todoroki. Weirdly enough, the halfie seemed to get what he meant almost immediately, placing his left hand on the pot and heating it up gently. When they were both satisfied with the warmth, Bakugou pulled the pot away and poured the tea for both of them.

“Sorry,” Todoroki croaked before he brought the cup up to his lips and sipped. “’s good.”

“You wanna tell me what the fuck just happened there, then?” Bakugou asked snidely, drinking a bit of the tea himself and trying not to grimace. How Todoroki liked this shit, he didn’t know, but the halfie already looked like a kicked puppy right now, so he kept his criticisms to himself. He'd bash his taste in beverages some other time.

“I just… I don’t know,” Todoroki said lamely. The tea had clearly helped his throat, his words just a tiny bit less raspy and broken than before. “I mean, I think my body was trying to adjust to the fever? I must have frozen everything to try and cool myself down. I… I didn’t think it’d get this bad, though.”

Todoroki paused, and Bakugou heaved an exasperated breath.

“You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?” he said when Todoroki said nothing. The boy didn’t rise to the insult though, keeping his head down. Somehow, that pissed Bakugou off more than anything else. “You’re lucky Flat Face didn’t try to call the teachers ‘bout this, else they woulda thrown a whole ass fit.”

“Sorry,” Todoroki said again, and god that apology was starting to get on Bakugou’s nerves. “For bothering you, too. You helped me out, with this, and with the food, and the tea, and—”

“Oi,” Bakugou stopped him, and Todoroki started at the interruption, looking up with surprise in his eyes. Bakugou leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table and cupping his chin in his hand as he stared blankly. “Why the fuck do you keep saying that?”

“…huh?”

“Ya keep yammering on and apologizing for shit. What gives?”

“I… I mean, I didn’t want to cause you any trouble—”

“When you screw up and someone helps you out,” Bakugou cut in, “there are better things to say than sorry, right?”

Todoroki stared—no, gawked at him, blinking furiously with wide eyes. He looked as though he was trying desperately to make sense of the words, as though Bakugou had given him the world’s trickiest, most convoluted riddle to figure out. With how close they were, Bakugou could practically see every centimeter of change in Todoroki’s facial expression as realization slowly dawned on him. He still seemed surprised, but now, there were the tiniest twitches at the corners of his lips, as though threatening to curl upwards.

“Thank you, Bakugou.”

“…Tch.”

He asked for it, but even then, he couldn’t understand the inexplicable feeling of warmth that spread within his chest as he heard the words. A simple gratitude, that was all it was.

So why did it feel so nice?

“Drink your tea, dumbass.”

Chapter Text

“All in favor of making Bakugou Todoroki’s official caregiver, say aye!”

“Aye!”

The chorus of idiots wasn’t what Bakugou wanted to deal with first thing in the morning, but when did he ever get what he want?

“Fuck off, I’m not taking care of that Half-n-Half bastard,” he growled, grabbing his protein shake and chugging half of it in one go before continuing. “Let him suffer on his own, he’s not a fucking kid.”

“But you said it yourself, Bakugou!” Kaminari said. “He’s useless at taking care of himself!”

“Didn’t he say he didn’t know what throat lozenges were for?” Ashido asked.

“Unfortunately, Todoroki-san is quite, ah, stubborn when it comes to his own wellbeing,” Yaoyorozu bemoaned.

“Who gives a shit if that halfie can’t deal with a flu on his own,” Bakugou sneered. “I’m not putting up with his shit.”

“But you did so well yesterday!” Kirishima pitched in. “He didn’t freeze anything else last night after you intervened.”

“Tch.”

“I agree! Bakugou-kun! You certainly were able to handle Todoroki-kun’s stubbornness quite well yesterday, and you proved yourself adept at dealing with both extremes of his quirk—”

“Shut up, Four Eyes. Still not doing it.”

“Y-yeah, guys!”

Despite his words, Bakugou found himself snapping his head over and glaring at the sudden newcomer to the conversation. Shitty Deku. Of fucking course.

“We shouldn’t pressure Kacchan like that, it’s, uh, it’s not fair! He probably has things he needs to do too, after all.”

The excuse was complete half-hearted bullshit, Bakugou could tell, but somehow it seemed to convince everyone else.

“That’s true, I guess…” Sero trailed off.

“Right! Besides, Shouto-kun and Kacchan don’t get along all that well, anyway—”

“Huh, really?” Kirishima said, blinking in confusion. “I thought they’re pretty good friends—”

“Hah?!” Bakugou snapped, more out of habit than anything else. “The fuck would I be friends with that halfie nerd, you—”

“What’s goin’ on?”

The slurred words brought everyone to a halt, and Bakugou turned his head to track the source. There, covering his shoulders in a thick blanket and staring at them with half-lidded eyes, stood Todoroki. He was still dressed in his sleep clothes, slightly damp and clinging to his form with sweat and melted frost, and his hair was a chaotic bird’s nest atop his head.

Still, he was looking significantly better than yesterday. Sure, the flush still hadn’t left his face, his voice was still croaky, and his limbs still trembled a bit, but he wasn’t so pale now, and there weren’t any hints of fire or ice shooting out from his body.

Improvements, but he was clearly still sick.

Fucking great.

“Shouto-kun!” Deku immediately perked up, practically skipping over to the boy. “What are you doing here? You should be resting—”

“I slept enough yesterday,” Todoroki deadpanned.

“Holy shit, did Todoroki actually say he slept too much?” Kaminari said, theatrically loud. “Todoroki?”

“Damn, he really is sick.” Kirishima whistled, and Todoroki frowned slightly.

“I’m no—”

“If you say you’re not sick I’m gonna make you float,” Uraraka said from where she was suddenly stood beside Todoroki, her fingers curling in threat.

If Bakugou didn’t know any better, he’d say the damn halfie was pouting.

“Whatever,” he said instead, stepping more into the room towards where most of them had gathered around the couches. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Nothi—”

“Just how Bakugou here,” Kirishima started with a grin, throwing a heavy arm over Bakugou’s shoulder, “is gonna be your mother hen ‘til you get better.”

“…What.”

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou grunted and threw Kirishima’s arm off of him, but he didn’t bother to respond to Todoroki’s questioning gaze. Instead, Kaminari chirped up.

“He’s gonna be your babysitter while you’re sick! Since you’re, y’know, completely useless on your own.”

Todoroki made a small noise of offense at that.

“I’m not useless! I can take care of myself—”

“The ice from yesterday begs to differ, man,” Sato said, and Todoroki had the decency to look embarrassed and turning his head away at the reminder.

“It was an accident,” he mumbled, looking back with guilt in his eyes. “Sorry ‘bout that though. You guys were okay, right?”

Sero shrugged, and Sato just waved him off casually.

“Don’t sweat it man, you didn’t freeze us or anything,” he said. “U.A.’s heating bill may be just  a bit higher this month, but that’s about it.”

“’Sides,” Sero added with a knowing grin. “Not like I haven’t had to deal with you freezing me before.”

Todoroki groaned, and the flush on his face now was definitely from more than just his cold.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope!”

Todoroki huffed, but said nothing else as he waddled over to the kitchen instead as Deku trailed behind him. Bakugou let himself look away then, going back to the game he’d been playing on his phone as everyone else settled back into whatever they were doing before. It was peaceful for all of two minutes, but shitty Deku’s yells were filling the air again.

“Sh-Shouto-kun, you’re not, you can’t eat that!”

Flickering his eyes over to the source of the commotion, Bakugou watched as Todoroki stepped out with Deku in tow. One of his hands was still clutching at the blanket, clasping the two ends together in front of him and keeping it snug on his shoulders.

His other hand, though, was holding onto a energy pouch. It was one of those squeezable food pouches that Aizawa frequently used. They always had a small stock of them in the fridge in case their teacher swung by, but no one else really liked them. Bakugou himself had never gotten accustomed to them, preferring to just have a protein shake if he really wanted liquid meals, and he definitely didn’t expect Todoroki of all people to use them.

“It’s fine,” Todoroki said, moving away when Deku tried to grab the pouch from him.

“No it’s not, that’s not a meal!” Deku argued, this time successfully grabbing the pouch out of Todoroki’s hand. He crossed his arms as he stared at Todoroki like a disappointed mother. “Besides, you shouldn’t be eating, or, well, er. drinking any cold things now while you’re still sick!”

“But I don’t wanna cook breakfast,” was the only excuse Todoroki gave, and Bakugou barely managed to hold back a snort at that. Always the lazy asshole, he was.

“Still!”

“It’s fine, Midoriya. This is enough for me in the mornings—”

“Oi, Bakugou, why don’t you make him something?”

“Hah?!” Bakugou spared a glance at Kirishima, then cursed when he saw his main character die. When had he stopped paying attention? Whatever, he thought, as he set his phone aside to properly glare at Shitty Hair. “The fuck would I do that for?”

“C’mon man, you’re supposed to be helping him out ‘til he gets better!”

 “Yeah, Bakugou, be a good friend!”

“You’re the best cook, anyway. Don’t be a spoilsport!”

“You made him okayu yesterday, right?”

“Fuck off, I’m not doing shit for Candy Cane over there,” Bakugou snapped.

“He doesn’t need to make anything for me,” Todoroki added, voice scratchy and airy like he was holding back some coughs. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he was breathing in wrong and his body was wracked with a whole fit of hacking coughs.

“Damn, sick Todoroki is kinda pathetic,” Kaminari mused, letting out a small ‘eep’ when Todoroki threw him a heated glare.

“I can take care of myself,” he argued, though the way his voice cracked on every other word certainly didn’t help his case.

“C’mon, Shouto-kun!” Deku was suddenly chirping up again. But this time, his voice was softer, sweeter in a way that Bakugou’s skin crawling as he tried to coax Todoroki into listening to him. “Sit down for a bit. I have some instant miso packets and there’s still rice left in the cooker, and fish on the grill.”

“You don’t have to—”

But Deku was already gone, disappearing into the kitchen so fast that he had to have been using his quirk, and Todoroki was left to stand there dumbly in the middle of the room. He looked like he was torn between following Deku to argue with him and just listening to what he said, but before he could make his decision, a violent sneeze was ripping its way out of his throat. As the sneeze devolved into another coughing fit, Todoroki had no choice but to sit delicately at the nearest couch and practically bury his face into the crook of his arm.

“Damn, Todoroki, please tell me you’re not contagious,” Jirou said. “’Cos whatever it is you have, I sure as hell don’t want it.”

“You already got the flu a couple weeks ago though, Kyoka-chan,” Asui said. “So you probably wouldn’t catch anything anyway, ribbit.”

“Well still, you better stay away!” Kaminari practically yelled, Bakugou resisted the urge to strangle him as one of his characters died again. “Don't get any of us sick!”

“No, you got the wrong idea, Kaminari,” Mineta pitched in, "If he get all the girls sick, they’ll get all blushy and start stripping because of how hot they get—”

“Stop that, Mineta-chan.”

“Eep!”

Bakugou didn’t have to even look up from his phone to know Asui had practically chucked the grape pervert across the room with her tongue. Ha, fucking good on her. The shit deserved way worse than just that, as far as he was concerned.

“Todoroki-san, maybe it would be prudent to wear a mask?” Yaoyorozu suggested. “At least until your, ah, affliction passes.” Todoroki mumbled something, but it was too hard to hear with the distance and between his coughs. “Hm?”

“Don’t have them,” Todoroki repeated, louder this time.

That was enough to yank Bakugou’s attention from his phone once again as he looked up to gape at Todoroki. He wasn’t the only one, though, and Todoroki stared back at their looks of shock with a bemused on of his own.

“I don’t get sick, remember?”

“B-but still!” Hagakure said indignantly. “How do you not have any?”

“You’re famous ‘cos of your father, right?” Shouji added. “Did you never buy any to disguise yourself, at least?”

Todoroki just shrugged as he responded, “I never bothered hiding from paparazzi or whatever. I don’t do anything interesting enough for them to bother me anyway.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Todoroki was breaking the conversation with another  sneeze. Bakugou watched as he sniffled pathetically, letting one hand go from the blanket on him to dig through his pajama pant’s pockets. He froze when he saw Todoroki pull out a familiar white cloth to blow his nose into.

Bakugou’s handkerchief.

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou forced himself up, shoving his phone into his sweatpants pocket and ignoring the curious looks from the others around him. His feet moved on autopilot, as he walked over to one of the nearby cabinets. He’d filled it within the first few days of them moving into the dorms, last year. In addition to all the cleaning supplies they could possibly need—because some of these damn extras were slobs— he’d filled it with basic first-aid equipment and medical supplies.

Grabbing the box he was looking for quickly, he trekked over to the couch where Todoroki was at. He could practically feel the stares drilling holes into his back as he moved, but he didn’t give a shit. Or at least, that was what he told himself. It was what he continued to tell himself, too, when he came to stand in front of Todoroki, and the boy’s bright eyes joined the slew of those that were staring at him in confusion and curiosity.

“Bakugou?” he asked quietly, throat raw from his sneezes and coughs.

Wordlessly, Bakugou presented the box he had grabbed from the cabinet to Todoroki: an unopened, 30-pack of medical masks he had picked up from the 100 yen store. He’d stocked up only recently, once the weather started getting colder and it felt like everyone around him was losing themselves to some infection or another.

“Oh,” Todoroki said dumbly, reaching out hesitantly to the box. “Sorry, I didn’t—ah.”

He blinked, perplexed when suddenly the box was disappearing from his vision. He looked up, only to see that Bakugou had pulled his arm away, the box with it. Bakugou held it by his head, specifically out of Todoroki’s immediate grasp. When the boy stared at him in confusion, Bakugou just rose a single eyebrow expectantly in return.

It took a minute, but realization was finally melting that confusion on Todoroki’s face.

“Ah, right,” he said, nodding his head slightly as though he just figured out his mistake. He looked back up at Bakugou, who tried not to bristle at the sudden earnestness in those eyes. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

Nodding, Bakugou brought the masks down again, letting Todoroki take the box into his hands delicately. They looked at each for a minute, both silently measuring each other up, when their reverie was broken by a sudden shout.

“Shouto-kun! Come eat!”

“A…ah, yeah. Coming!”

Bakugou stepped back silently, letting Todoroki slide off the couch to go to the kitchen. Resisting the urge to follow the movement with his eyes, Bakugou instead just turned about-face and walked back to where he had been sitting before. Plopping himself back onto the couch, he dug his phone out of his pocket and tried to ignore the pin-drop silence that had taken over the room.

Of course, in this damn dorm, silence never lasted long.

“Yo, the heck was that, man?” Kaminari asked, bewildered.

“Damn, I didn’t realize you guys were actually all buddy-buddy,” Sero said.

“I told you guys, they get along weirdly well—”

“Shut up, you pieces of shit,” Bakugou snapped, cutting off Kirishima sharply.

He wasn’t friends with anyone, least of all fucking Half-n-Half, and that was that.

Chapter Text

When all was said and done, and Todoroki sniffled his last sniffles, Bakugou was thanking fuck that all that was over.

To be fair, Todoroki wasn’t that annoying a sick person. At least, he wasn’t as annoying as some of the other extras. He didn’t whine 24/7 like Raccoon Eyes, he didn’t demand to be coddled and spoiled with affection like Dunce Face, and he didn’t concoct all sorts of gross-smelling home remedies like Ponytail.

Really, Todoroki was fairly tolerable. Sure, his quirk made it seem like he was struck by the damn plague. Sure, it took him three days just to be able to stand for more than a few hours without getting dizzy. And sure, he wasn’t good enough to go back to classes until a whole week had passed.

But even then, despite how intense his sickness was, he didn’t voice his complaints so long as he could avoid it. He didn’t whine about bright lights hurting his eyes or get all pouty when Aizawa said he couldn’t do any intense training until he was completely back up to snuff. He didn't accidentally freeze his or anyone else's rooms over in the middle of the night again. He stayed respectful of others, wearing the masks Bakugou gave him practically all the time and even making sure to disinfect common spaces or items. He waited out his suffering in dutiful silence, just how Bakugou liked it.

At the same time, though, sick Todoroki just somehow kept popping up everywhere.

Before, he’d had a comfortable and well-accepted routine of staying in his dorm room 95% of the time. He’d only come out to the common spaces to eat, do laundry, and bathe. Occasionally, he’d indulge his nerd squad and study or hang out with them in the common room, but besides that, he stayed out of the way.

Now, though, it seemed like Todoroki was constantly there. Whether he was loitering around the kitchen making copious amounts of his gross ginger tea or bundling up with numerous layers on the couch just to watch shitty movies with Deku, he was just always around. Maybe being sick made him too tired to argue, or maybe it just made him a clingy-ass motherfucker.

Bakugou wasn’t sure, but either way, he hated it.

Sure, he figured he could just go to his own room if he didn’t want to deal with the halfie, but that felt like quitting. He’d been here first. While Todoroki had been busy holing himself away in his room, away from social interaction, Bakugou had laid out his comforts in the common room.

He had an arm chair that he’d basically claimed as his own throne considering how often he was on it. The kitchen was basically his domain, since he was one of the only capable people in the damn dorm when it came to cooking. Hell, half his school supplies and training equipment was down here too! Practically all his time not spent sleeping or in class was spent out on the ground floor of this building.

So why the hell would he move, when Todoroki was the one suddenly barging in?

It was a common area, Shitty Hair would say if he mentioned it. That meant all of them were allowed to use the space as they wished, he'd say, so Bakugou couldn't complain. He'd probably go on and on about how it wasn’t like Todoroki ever caused a ruckus or distracted anyone from what they were doing, so what did it matter if he was sticking by the common room more often now?

Bakugou begged to differ—as far as he was concerned, everything about the damn halfie was distracting.

He kept that to himself though, already not liking the curious look Kirishima was giving him and not wanting to make it worse. God knows Shitty Hair read into this sort shit way too much, and Bakugou wasn’t really in the mood to hear an earful anytime soon.

So he sat quietly seething from his favorite armchair in front of the T.V.

They were watching some shitty historical drama that had no real plot and was 99% fanservice. It was stupid and probably historically inaccurate, but it was the sort of mindless television that they all tended to indulge in after a hard day of classes and training. They could talk over it without having to care about missing any actual story, or they could just shut their brains off and watch blankly.

It was late, everyone having already had dinner and finished their homework for tomorrow. Most of them were here, though a few had turned in for the night, either to just relax in their rooms or to sleep early. Bakugou had considered going too, but eventually decided against it.

While most of the time, he was more than happy to sleep early and rise early, that schedule of his had become harder and harder to maintain over the past week. For whatever reason, even if he went to bed at his normal time, he’d end up staring blankly at his ceiling, entirely awake, for what must have been hours. He couldn’t for the love of god figure out why, when he was supposed to be enjoying blissful unconsciousness, his brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

He’d shut his eyes and hope for the darkness to take over not just his vision but his thoughts, but instead of pitch black, he’d see glimpses of red and white scattered in his mind. When he was supposed to be accompanied by nothing but the silence of his room, sounds of a light chuckle and a soft “thank you, Bakugou” rang through his ears. He’d lay in bed and find himself contrasting the coolness of his sheets to the heat of small flames flickering on the left side of his back as he trudged through the snow days ago.

So fucking distracting.

Eventually, after three days of that bullshit, he’d given up on sleeping early entirely.

Instead, he had taken to staying in the common room until some semblance of tiredness hit him. The extras were happy with the development, using it as an opportunity to coerce him into playing more of their stupid games or hanging out with them more. Much as he wanted to punch their faces out, he just huffed and went along with it. He figured if he spent enough time with those idiots, their stupidity would tire him out enough to make him sleep sooner.

Now if only the reason for his sleeplessness wasn’t fucking hanging around everywhere.

“O-Oh, Shouto-kun!”

Bakugou’s eyes flickered down as he grunted in annoyance at the interruption. Shitty Deku and Class Rep were seated on the floor, with none other than Half-n-Half wedged in between them. It definitely wasn’t a good idea, to be so close and snug to him when he was still getting over the last throes of his cold, but neither of them seemed to mind.

No, instead they just continued to crowd Todoroki, who had wrapped himself tightly in the thick wool blanket he’d used continuously since he got sick. Todoroki seemed fond of it, to say the least, seeing as he hadn’t stopped using it for nearly a week now. Bakugou remembered with annoyance that when Ashido had asked him about it, Todoroki explained that it was actually Shitty Deku’s. It had been offered to him the very morning after he nearly froze over the fifth floor, and he took it appreciatively, saying he didn't have many blankets of his own. And of course, the very mention of Todoroki using his blanket always managed to pull out this disgustingly content and endeared expression from Deku.

Kinda like the look on his face right now.

“Hn…”

Todoroki was barely cognizant from the looks of it, only letting out a small noise of acknowledgement as his name was called. His eyes were shut, unable to see the surprised but stupidly happy look on Deku’s face when his head had dropped to lean on his shoulder. Really, most of his weight was resting on Deku’s side at this point, his head lolling as he went in and out of consciousness.

He looked like a sleepy cat, nuzzling up to whoever was closest for attention. It was almost cute.

Wait, what?

“Shouto-kun, are you tired?” Deku tried again, shifting slightly so Todoroki’s head would be more comfortable. “You can go to bed if you want.”

“’m fine,” Todoroki murmured.

“Are you sure? It might be better if you go to bed…”

“Indeed, sleeping in bed would be much more comfortable than here, Todoroki-kun!” Iida pitched in, and Todoroki just groaned in response.

“’s comfy ’ere. Lemme rest.”

“I…okay, if you say so.”

“Who knew Todoroki of all people would be a cuddle monster?” Kaminari chirped.

“The mean-looking ones are always the biggest softies,” Hagakure added, sniggering.

Todoroki didn’t even try to deny it, letting more of his weight sink into Deku’s side. Shitty Deku, on the other hand, looked like he was just about to explode in joy, the sight of which made Bakugou sick. God, could he at least control his disgusting love eyes while there were others in the room? He, for one, didn’t want to have to bear witness to that sort of gross ogling.

“Hey, does that mean Bakugou’s actually a big cuddler?”

“Hah?!” Bakugou snapped his head over to glare heatedly at Kirishima. “The fuck sorta nonsense are you spouting now, Shitty Hair?”

“Oh my god,” Ashido said between obnoxious bursts of laughter. “I need to see that.”

“Bakugou! Cuddling! I think the world would end, dude,” Kaminari added.

Bakugou was going to kill all of them, he decided. Maybe he’d just go the old-fashioned route and burn the entire dorm down while they slept. But at the same time, that gave them time to escape… Maybe if laced the whole place with his sweat, he could set off an explosion that instantly killed all of them. It worked well enough in the movies.

He couldn’t ponder much on the logistics of his class-wide homicide, though, when he was brought to the present by a yell.

“Shouto-kun!”

Startling a little, Bakugou looked back down to the floor, only for his breath to hitch at what he saw.

Apparently even as the shitty extras were busy dicking around and loudly trying to get on Bakugou’s nerves, Todoroki was entirely unaffected by it all. No, the fucker had managed to ignore all the damn commotion and somehow even fucking fall asleep.

As in, he literally fell.

Todoroki’s head had seemingly slipped off of Deku’s shoulder, and in his unconsciousness, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling into Deku’s fucking lap instead. His legs were still outstretched in front of him, but now his head and whole upper body laid sprawled across Deku’s crossed legs. He was practically half-laying on his side, his back flush against Deku’s abdomen and his arm crushed between his own weight and Deku’s legs.

Bakugou was taken aback by the scene, though he didn’t know why. Something about Todoroki’s look struck a chord deep within him. Unlike his usual neat and orderly look, he’d been appearing quite disheveled since getting sick. Even so, Bakugou hadn’t really noticed the extent of it until now.

His hair was messily splayed across Deku’s thigh, both the red and white strands standing out against black sweatpants. His skin was lightly flushed, from his cheeks to his nose to even his neck, and the skin around his eyes was a little swollen, though it was only really noticeable on his right side. His usually smooth, pink lips were chapped and cracked, with drool threatening to spill over from the edges.

But even with how unkempt he looked, he looked surprisingly… at peace.

Sleep shows our true innocence, behind the burdens of everyday life.

It was something that Hound Dog had told him only a couple weeks ago, during one of their sessions.

Bakugou had been going to the guidance counselor since first year, after getting kidnapped by the League of Villains. It had been Aizawa’s idea, citing that therapy of some sort would do him good after such a traumatic event, but of course, Bakugou had refused at first. Why wouldn’t he? It was all stupid anyway. He didn’t have any fucking trauma or whatever bullshit the teachers had rambled on about. He didn’t need some shrink to tell him how fucked up he already was or to pretend they knew what he was like. It was all stupid, as far as he was concerned, and he wasn’t going to go.

Then, there was the fight with Deku.

House arrest had been a bitch in and of itself, but after that, Aizawa was more convinced than ever Bakugou needed to see someone. He even threatened to dock his grades until he went, and fuck if Bakugou was gonna take that risk. He’d go to some stupid counselling sessions, if it meant his hero progress didn’t get stunted.

So, he went to Hound Dog.

After a while, even he had to admit: seeing the guidance counselor wasn’t all that bad. Hound Dog didn’t try to get uselessly sappy or emotional with him, but he also didn't judge when Bakugou let his own useless sappiness get the best of him. He let him talk through the shit that bugged him at his own pace. He didn’t try to put words into Bakugou’s mouth, didn’t try to make things weirder or worse than they had to be.

Sometimes, they wouldn’t even talk about his problems if he didn’t feel like it. Sometimes they’d just chat. Usually, their conversations were about dogs and how Bakugou really wanted to get some big ass ones like Mastiffs or Great Danes. Other times, they’d talk about how school stuff, like the stupid shit his classmates got up to or random teacher gossip that Bakugou secretly loved to hear. And every once in a while, after a particularly bad day, they wouldn’t talk at all, and Bakugou would relish in silence covering him like a warm blanket.

It wasn’t completely awful, he supposed. At least, that was the excuse he used when he agreed to continue the sessions this year, even if they weren't mandatory anymore.

Sleep shows our true innocence.

That particular day, two weeks ago, they’d been talking about one of Bakugou’s nightmares.

It wasn’t about anything specific, and he couldn’t even really remember what it was about. He could just remember the smell of ashes and nitroglycerin clogging his systems, could remember the choking feeling of hands around his throat, could remember the sight of everyone he knew covered in blood. He didn’t know what had happened, but he did know that they were all dead, and it was all his fault.

He didn’t sleep for two days after that.

Hound Dog had explained how dreams could reflect all sorts of things going on within our subconscious. It could reflect our greatest desires, or our greatest fears. For Bakugou, he had said it was likely the latter: his unbounded fear of being the ruination of those around him. Hound Dog had said it so quickly, with so much confidence, that it had stunned Bakugou for a good minute. His thoughts racing miles per minute, Bakugou had needed a few moments to compose himself. When he finally did, he asked how it was Hound Dog was so sure, and the response stunned him once again.

Why, the very fact that you considered it a nightmare in the first place!

Bakugou watched the lines of Todoroki’s face relax as he pondered that day.

Sleep shows innocence, huh?

At the time, Hound Dog had meant it as a call to Bakugou’s personality, and how people perceived him. He’d always been rough around the edges, a weird conglomeration of both superiority and inferiority complexes, of anxiety and assurance, of insecurity and confidence. It was confusing even to him, and abrasive to others, but he never bothered to care about how that affected those around him. More often than not, though, that manifested as him doing completely shitty things, stuff that he was slowly apologizing and making up for still. 

But beyond his genuine wrongdoings, there were all too many times when people just misjudged him. From the League trying to make him part of their freakshow, to even Pro Heroes whispering about him and saying he was no better than a villain during their first year sports festival. He hated admitting it, and hadn’t until numerous sessions with Hound Dog had passed, but that shit affected him. Riled him up, pissed him off.

Scared him.

He was innocent, Hound Dog had said, in his sleep, where he couldn’t hide behind rough facades or distant words. He was forced to confront his true feelings when he was buried in unconsciousness, and it was then that he could pronounce his innocence in a word set on ruling him guilty.

Now, though, as he watched the slow rise and fall of Todoroki’s chest in deep, steadying breaths, he saw a different kind of innocence.

The lines that usually cut into Todoroki’s pale features had faded away. His brows were typically at least partially furrowed in concentration, annoyance, confusion, or all three. Now, though they were relaxed, with the usually scrunched skin between them now smooth. The normal downturn to his lips that Bakugou had just assumed was natural had practically disappeared. The tension that usually strung his muscles together had melted away into nothingness.

Asleep, Todoroki almost seemed like a child.

His innocence was different, because his burdens were different. What exactly his burdens were, Bakugou couldn’t help but wonder. He knew some of Todoroki's story, but not enough to really understand him. Thinking on it, he couldn’t even remember a single time he’d ever really seen the halfie actually relaxed, not like this. He wasn’t when he was at the dorm, or when he was in classes, or even when he was just hanging out and having fun with his little nerd squad.

Even when he was away from all his family bullshit and his shitty ass father and other people’s expectations of him, he never fully let go. There was always a stiffness to him, as though he was constantly on edge and ready for something to go wrong.

But here, all of that was gone.

Curled up on the floor with his muscles limp and his breathing heavy, he looked more far gone than he ever had before. For someone who usually looked like he had the whole world on his shoulders to look like this…

Something was tugging at Bakugou, deep within his chest.

He couldn’t explain it. This was the same emotionally-stunted brat who was just now learning how to socialize, couldn’t cook to save his life, but generally put up a fantastic fucking fight. This was the nerd who made dumb mistakes on his physics homework because he wasn’t paying close enough attention, but was able to point out the tiniest of details within a fight to discuss with Bakugou. This was Todoroki, for fuck’s sake.

It didn’t make any sense for Bakugou to care like this.

He shouldn’t worry so much about the sorrow that seemed to follow Todoroki’s every step. He shouldn’t bother wondering whether or not Todoroki was eating or sleeping well, whether he was able to take care of himself, whether he knew how to. God dammit, he shouldn’t want to hide Todoroki away in a place where all his troubles disappeared, so that all that was left was this innocence that had been so unfairly ripped away from him at a young age.

He shouldn’t, but he did.

“Ah, I’ll, uh, bring him up to his room,” Deku’s voice broke the silence.

Bakugou looked away, feigning disinterest and keeping his head down as Deku shuffled around. He’d picked Todoroki up gently as to not rouse him. Even out of the corner of his eye Bakugou could see the telltale green sparks of Deku activating his quirk to be able to hold Todoroki more easily.

It was like a spell had been cast across the common room—no one really spoke, save for some muttered words of “good night” and “sleep well.” The ringing sound of the elevator arriving at the ground floor resounded through the room, echoing in Bakugou’s ears. They stayed quiet even as they heard the soft click of the elevator doors shutting behind the pair. It wasn’t until after they heard a gentle rumbling sound, indicating the elevator starting to move, did anyone speak up.

“When do you think Deku-kun’ll confess?”

It was Uraraka, of course. Bakugou glanced up, seeing half the class staring at her in bewilderment.

“Huh? Whatd’ya mea—”

“I doubt he will,” Iida said, interrupting Kirishima. “Midoriya-kun is still too scared.”

“That’s true, ribbit,” Asui added. “Besides, I’m not sure if Todoroki-chan wo—"

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up,” Jirou cut in. “What are you guys talking about?”

The three share a look.

“Deku-kun’s crush,” Uraraka said finally. “On Todoroki-kun.”

“What?!”

The room fell into chaos. For some of them, it had been obvious. Of course Deku’s shitty friends knew, but some of the others did too, like Shouji, Tokoyami, and Sato. Even Hagakure knew somehow, which was stupid she couldn’t seem to notice Ojiro pining after her like a fucking idiot. Others were in complete shock, like Ashido, Kaminari, and Yaoyorozu.

“Yaomomo, how didn’t you know?” Kaminari asked accusatorily. “You and Todoroki hang like, all the time!”

“Well I, uh, I suppose, but I never noticed any feelings between the two of them other than friendship! And I, well, I suppose I don’t speak with Midoriya-san as much…”

“Isn’t it a little obvious?” Tokoyami said.

“He is like, constantly mooning over Todoroki.”

“Oh yeah, Deku-kun’s got it bad. I mean, have you seen the way he looks at him? Whipped.”

“Not to mention how often they already hang out, they’re like, attached at the hip.”

“Oh my god, you guys, the blanket—”

“He should confess!” Ashido chirped up suddenly. “They’d be a super cute couple!”

There was a split second of quietness, and Bakugou noted silently Asui’s awkward look.

“Ah, but I’m not sure Todoroki-chan would feel the same, ribbit.”

“Whaaat?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t really seem like much of a romantic guy anyway,” Shouji added.

“Could you imagine Todoroki on a date?” Sato said, sniggering.

Problem was, Bakugou absolutely could imagine him on a date. He was sheltered as fuck, so he’d probably get all his date ideas from stupid movies Deku and his friends made him watch after they get to the dorms. Even then, he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do.

He’d go to the movies but fall asleep halfway through. He’d book a room at a karaoke place but he wouldn’t know half the songs on the track lists. He’d try to win a prize from a claw machine in a shopping center, and even when he’d be so fucking bad at it, he wouldn’t care because it would be Endeavor’s money that he was blowing. And even then, the whole date would be such a damn blast.

Wait, why the fuck was Bakugou thinking about this?

“I still think they’d be nice together.”

“They’re already good friends, I’m sure dating wouldn’t be all that different for them.”

“’Sides, if we’re talking about experience, Midoriya doesn’t seem like the type to have dated around a lot either.”

“That’s true… Oi, Bakugou, you guys are childhood friends. Has Midoriya ever—”

“I’m going to bed,” Bakugou snapped.

He practically threw himself off the arm chair. The whines and complaints from behind him were loud as fuck, but he didn’t care as he stomped over to the stairs.

Who fucking cared about whether or not the halfie got together with Deku? It wasn’t their own damn relationships, so what business did they have prying into that sorta shit? Besides, these fuckers didn’t know that Shitty Deku already tried and got… rejected? Ignored? Whatever it was they wanted to call it, but Todoroki didn’t accept his stupid fucking feelings.

Then again, he hadn’t exactly denied them either.

The thought had Bakugou’s heart clenching and gut curling as he flopped down onto his bed. What the fuck? What was it that made him feel like such shit?

As he stared at his ceiling, Bakugou tried to imagine Todoroki with the same sappy, lovesick look that Shitty Deku always had. No matter how hard he tried, though, he just couldn’t see it. Todoroki wasn’t all blushy and stutter-y like Deku was. He didn’t fawn over people and praise them to hell and beyond. He was quieter in how he showed his emotion, choosing actions over words.

Because despite what everyone tried to say about him, Todoroki did show emotion. It was just in different ways than everyone else. Behind his stoicism laid a ticking time bomb of a person. Really, for someone with ice powers, Todoroki had no fucking chill. Whether it was accidentally setting a book on fire when he got embarrassed, to literally freezing Sero in hundreds of pounds of ice when he was mad at his dad, he was a damn wreck.

But past that, there were gentler, more subdued ways that Todoroki expressed his feelings. He’d offer Yaoyorozu his jacket because her clothes got ripped up again when she made something big while training. He’d use his dad’s credit card to help pay for a smart phone for Uraraka—help, because she wouldn’t accept it if he paid in full. He’d offer to roll Ingenium’s wheelchair when he came to visit but his arms were tired, because he knew how much it meant to Iida.

When he did use his words, though, he kept them short and powerful. He didn’t ramble on like Deku, and he chose what he said with the utmost care and thought. He didn’t overuse his words either, making sure everything he said had the sort of impact he was hoping for.

Suddenly, a very clear image filled Bakugou’s mind like the worst parasite. The slightest of breezes flying through silken, dual-colored hair, heterochromatic eyes twinkling with an unspoken joy, and pink chapped lips curled up in the softest of smiles.

“Thank you, Bakugou.”

He shot out of his bed.

No.

No, no, no.

Absolutely fucking not.

He did not have a thing, for that Half-n-Half bastard. He didn’t have anything for him, besides rage, rivalry, and, rarely, respect. Maybe he even thought the fucker wasn’t too bad on some days, when he made a couple corrections to Bakugou’s classical Japanese homework instead of crowding around his nerd squad.

Still, not bad didn’t equate to… what, a fucking crush?

But even as he tried to deny it, something swirled in his chest at the very thought of Todoroki. It was like everything inside Bakugou was screaming at him to accept it. A desperate longing filled his body and soul, telling him to go out and find Todoroki right now. It wanted him to scoop Todoroki into his arms and never let go, and god if he didn't want to give in and do just that.

Bakugou screamed into his pillow.

No! This sort of shit wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was the angry bastard only idiots wanted to associate with and others were supposed to fear. He was here to become the top hero and blast out the competition. He was here to win, to crush all these damn extras and become the best damn hero the world had ever seen. He wasn’t here to fucking make friends, let alone catch feelings.

But, god, if it didn’t feel so nice.

He hated how good it felt to imagine Todoroki's sleeping face, relaxed and innocent in a way he'd never thought possible before. He hated how easy it was to imagine himself slotting Todoroki onto his lap in his favorite arm chair in the common room. He hated how his heart pounded at the thought of Todoroki laughing— really laughing, with no restraint and complete mirth. It wasn’t a sight anyone saw often. Maybe he’d chuckle occasionally, but a proper laugh? Bakugou could probably count the times he’d seen that on one hand. Despite the infrequency, it had Bakugou’s heart soaring every time he heard it—soft and melodic like the sweetest bird song.

Fuck.

He actually had a crush on Todoroki.

Chapter Text

When it all came down to it, Bakugou wasn’t a logical person at all.

He let his emotions drive him in practically all of his decisions. Most of the time, it was anger, though he’d been known to have at least a couple more emotions. Like annoyance. And indignance. And rage. Kirishima might claim that they were all sort of the same, but Bakugou knew they weren’t. There were subtle, nuanced differences that he knew all too well.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was, he knew and accepted that he worked based off of how he felt. Fuck rationality, he did what he want. It just so happened that all he wanted to do right now, was to hide out away from the rest of the world and pretend no one fucking existed, especially not that Half-n-Half bastard.

So, that was what he did.

In hindsight, he realized it wasn’t really that much of a challenge to just ignore everything and everyone. With the crunch time for final exam preparation approaching them, their training intensity was ramping up intensely while the time they needed to spend studying shot up too. It was all too easy to lose himself in a routine of class-workout-train-study-eat-sleep. He didn’t bother wasting time loitering around the common rooms, instead locking himself away in his room whenever he could. If he couldn’t sleep, if thoughts of shimmering dual-colored eyes and small smiles kept him awake, he’d just study himself into exhaustion.

It was a great fucking plan, if only Shitty Hair wasn’t so damn perceptive.

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Hah?!”

They were sat in Bakugou’s room, reviewing shit for Midnight’s history exam. Bakugou had so wanted to kick him out and study on his own, but Kirishima was a stubborn motherfucker who kept begging him for tutoring. Really, they were well into their second year and the damn Shitty Hair still sucked so much at studying on his own.

So, Bakugou had begrudgingly let him, and only him, in. God knew if he let the other extras in too, like Racoon Eyes or Drooly, they’d get absolutely nothing done.

Though it didn’t seem like Shitty Hair was gonna be productive either.

“You’ve been ignoring all of us! What gives?”

“The fuck are you on about?”

Kirishima pursed his lips, looking away to stare at some random corner of the room.

“It’s just, you don’t hang with any of us anymore. You don’t go out much either now, and you seem a lot angrier than usual too.”

“You’re imagining shit,” Bakugou said with a scoff, even as his heart pounded rapidly.

Was he really that obvious, if Kirishima had noticed? Had the others noticed too, and Kirishima was just the only with enough balls to actually confront him about it? Sure, most of the idiots might not have noticed anything different. But Kirishima wasn’t the only perceptive one around. Had Shitty Deku noticed? Had Todoroki?

“I don’t have time to play around with you dumb extr—”

“Did something happen between you and Todoroki?”

Bakugou froze.

No fucking way.

“What are you implying, Shitty Hair?” he practically seethed, eyes narrowed as Kirishima raised his hands in surrender.

“Hey, no, it’s not—I don’t mean anything bad! It’s just, you guys seemed to get along well, and suddenly you don’t even talk.”

“I don’t fucking get along with anyone.”

“Dude, don’t be like that! You’re like, my best bud!”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and looked away so he wouldn’t have to look into Kirishima’s damn earnest eyes.

“Whatever.”

Kirishima paused, and even from the corner of his eyes Bakugou could see the curious look being directed his way.

“Did you guys have a fight?”

“Hah?”

“I mean, you guys seemed to be doing okay, and you even helped him out when he was sick! But since then you’ve been like, completely MIA. And like, he keeps staring at you!”

“…What?”

Bakugou barely managed to croak out the question.

“Yeah! Like in class and everything, he keeps looking over and everything. I’m pretty sure Aizawa-sensei’s noticed, too, since he keeps glaring and muttering about kids who don’t pay attention to him.”

Gulping as he felt a sudden lump growing in his throat, Bakugou stayed silent even as Kirishima rambled on. Todoroki was staring at him? For how long? Bakugou hadn’t noticed it at all, despite how aware he always tried to be of his surroundings. Not to mention, outside of the training fields, Todoroki was hardly one for subtlety. How had he managed to get away with staring at Bakugou without him noticing? And, most importantly, why?”

His blood froze as a thought ran through his mind. Todoroki didn’t know…did he?

He tried to will himself calm, hoping his now-rapidly pounding heart would slow down already.

No, no, that would be ridiculous. This was Todoroki he was talking about. Todoroki didn’t understand a damn thing about people and relationships. Hell, Deku had outright confessed to him, and he thought it was just some good ol’ fashioned friendship talk.

There was no damn way he could know about the feelings Bakugou was only starting to accept he had for him.

So what was it then? He was worried? He did that a surprisingly large amount, considering how aloof he usually seemed. He wasn’t a chronic neurotic like Deku or whatever, but he definitely had a tendency to overthink shit silently and to himself. He was remarkably stubborn too, so if he got into his head that something was wrong, he wouldn’t let it go for god knew how long.

“I’ll fucking talk to him,” Bakugou finally said, begrudgingly.

Kirishima grinned, and he tried not to think about how nice it’d look if Todoroki smiled like that.

-

Despite what he said, there wasn’t a lot of time for Bakugou to go talk to the halfie.

Though at first it had been an excuse to shut himself away, final exams soon came to kick his, and everyone else’s, asses to the fucking stars and beyond. He’d prepared well, of course, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still a pain to sit through three days of intense examinations. Their teachers hadn’t held back this term, making sure to cram in as much information as fucking possible in those tiny test booklets. Even if he knew he passed with flying colors, it still pissed Bakugou off.

The practical exams hadn’t been much better, though Bakugou preferred them far more. They were to have a proper, one-on-one battle with a teacher assigned to them. They’d kept a similar sort of format of exam since that first term in their first year: battling with a teacher, who’d be handicapped with some percentage of their own bodyweight attached to them.

Still, not wanting to get predictable and to better gage their improvements, Nezu had insisted on changing it up a little bit each time to make it increasingly harder. This time was intended to be the hardest they’d faced yet. Though the teachers’ weights were kept at 50% of their own bodyweight this time, the fights were changed from two-against-one to one-on-one. Additionally, each student had a personalized Special Point that they’d be graded particularly harshly for compared to other criteria.

For Bakugou, it had been decreasing property damage, and he just knew it was Aizawa’s way of being petty for that one destructive training battle he had with Todoroki a month ago.

Todoroki.

Bakugou resisted the urge to kick Kaminari’s chair in front of him.

They were seated at the dining room table with Ashido, Sero, and Kirishima. Those four kept chattering on as they ate lunch, while Bakugou was content to just listen. It was Saturday, technically the first day of winter break, and even if their final grades had yet to be announced, they were all significantly more relaxed than before. Or at least, that was the excuse Bakugou would use if asked why he suddenly agreed to hang out in the common room for the first time in what seemed like ages.

Practically all of them were still there in the dorms for the beginning of break, with the exception of Aoyama, whose French mother had insisted that Christmas was a “family holiday.” He had left the second exams were over, basically. Besides him, though, the rest of them would slowly trickle over the next few days to go back to their families.

Bakugou, himself, wouldn’t be going home until New Year’s Eve, already knowing his parents were going out on their own romantic Christmas trip. It was something they’d only started doing last year, when his old hag had proudly announced he was now old enough to not spend Christmas with his parents. But of course, when he tried to use the same logic for New Years, she’d practically flipped out about how he’d be cursed if he didn’t go to the shrines with them.

It was a battle that even he didn’t wanna fight.

So, he’d just wait out his time in the dorms. Kirishima had already made him swear to join him and the rest of the idiots to hang out for Christmas, sans Kaminari and Jirou. Those two would be out on a date or some shit. Fucking gross.

Most of his classmates would be leaving after Christmas, though, so he’d probably have the whole damn place to himself. Kaminari and Sero had already been listing off all the dumb pranks he could get up to on his own. Ha, as if he’d risk the teachers’ wraths just because those idiots wanted him to graffiti Iida’s room or unleash bugs in Kouda’s.

Downing the rest of his spicy ramen, Bakugou left the table, only to freeze in front of the kitchen when he saw a familiar nest of green hair.

“Shouto-kun!”

“Oh, Midoriya. What's up?”

Right, because as though his life wasn’t already complicated enough, there was still the Todoroki issue. He hadn’t realized it, with all his time spent shutting himself away, but apparently the halfie had taken to hanging around the common rooms more often now, even when he wasn’t sick. The very sight of him made Bakugou want to bolt, but he’d promised the idiot squad he’d stay to game with them after lunch.

So instead, he just stayed hidden in the threshold of the kitchen, hoping he didn’t look suspicious as he listened to shitty Deku talk.

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

“Huh? Oh… when’s that again?”

“Monday! Did you forget?” From the angle, Bakugou couldn’t see Todoroki’s face, but he could see the simple shrug of his shoulders in response.

“Yeah, I guess. But I don’t think I’m doing anything.”

“R-really?”

It was both surprising and not to hear that. One on hand, Todoroki was hardly the sociable type, and while he’d warmed up to hanging out with classmates in the dorms and things, going out for Christmas seemed too excessive for him. On the other hand, Bakugou seemed to have a very specific memory of Todoroki being out for all of Christmas Day last year. It was their first time spending Christmas in the dorms, and while everyone else had gone out with friends, Todoroki had specifically spent the whole day at a hospital.

Bakugou had overheard it when he’d come back, but he didn’t to think about why he remembered that even now.

“Yeah, since my mom’ll be at the house for New Year’s this year…”

Ah right, the infamous mother.

Bakugou had learned enough from hearing bits and pieces of Todoroki’s story. From domestic abuse turning her crazy enough to throw boiling water on her son, to discharged from a psychiatric hospital, Todoroki’s mom was a sort of unraveling enigma. From what Bakugou had gathered, she was now living in her own apartment.

It had been part of Endeavor’s whole “rediscovering how not to be a shithead” process, apparently, since he financed the place even if his wife wasn’t really talking to him. Were they still married? Bakugou didn’t really know. He assumed so, since the Number One Hero getting divorced would definitely amount to a big scandal that’d be plastered all over the news. On the other hand, he didn’t really understand why’d she’d stay with the man who beat up her and her son for years.

Man, Todoroki’s family was fucked up.

“Oh, r-right! That, uh, that makes sense.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, that always followed when Deku thought he breached a too sensitive topic. For his part, though, Todoroki didn’t seem to notice the awkwardness at all, his head tilted a bit as though in confusion.

Bakugou wished he could see his face.

“Did you need anything that day?”

“Huh? Oh, right! Well, uh, I was just wondering if you, well, if you wanted to maybe hang out with me that day! For Christmas!”

Bakugou wanted to explode the doorframe right then and there, where his hands were already clenched around the metal precariously tight. He knew exactly what Deku was trying to do. Even if his stupid confession from a month ago had been misinterpreted, he was an obstinate motherfucker.

He was trying to make a move again, and Bakugou really wished that didn’t bug him so much.

God, he hated this whole “crush” thing.

As if he didn’t already have enough to worry about, now he had this shit. Of all the assholes he had to develop feelings for, it had to be the one fucking person that Shitty Deku was in love with. Deku was already annoying, but through months of work with Hound Dog and a lot of introspection, Bakugou had started to view him more as a rival than as an enemy to kill on sight.

Those murderous feelings were coming back now, though.

“Sure.”

Sure. Fucking sure. Bakugou’s heart wrenched in a way he didn’t know was possible. So Todoroki was fine with going out with shitty Deku huh? Did he even know what Deku’s real intentions were?

“Are Iida and the others coming again too?”

No, of course he didn’t.

“H-huh?”

Bakugou almost snorted when he saw the confusion suddenly lacing Deku’s face.

“To hang? They did last year, right? I wasn’t able to join you guys when you asked.”

Right, Bakugou remembered that. The nerd squad, practically devastated when Todoroki said he never really did anything for Christmas, had insisted they all hang out together that day last year. They wanted him to get the full experience, they claimed, packed with fried chicken, small gifts, and cake. It was hilarious, how despite their panic, Todoroki had shut them down just to say he’d be going out that day.

To visit his mother at the hospital, apparently.

“Well, uh, actually…I was kinda hoping that maybe, it could be just the two of us this time.”

Bakugou was gonna blow this whole dorm down, and no one could stop him.

“Oh, okay.”

Why wasn’t Todoroki questioning him? Did he really want to go out alone with Deku? Could he not read the damn mood and realize that it wasn’t just a friendly hangout he was agreeing to? It wasn’t like Todoroki didn’t ask questions—he could be annoying curious and persistent when he wanted to be.

Maybe… maybe he already knew.

Maybe he actually wanted to go out on a shitty Christmas date with shitty Deku of all people.

Bakugou’s jaw clenched so much it hurt, but it didn’t compare to the aching in his chest.

“Great! I’ll figure out where we can go… Oo, do you maybe want to go ice skating?”

Bakugou could see Todoroki shaking his head surprisingly vigorously, and he pictured the slightest grimace pulling up onto his face.

“Sorry, I’m uh, not the biggest fan.”

Deku’s eyes go ridiculously wide with shock, as he voiced what Bakugou was thinking.

“Really? But you have an ice quirk!”

Todoroki shrugged, leaning against the counter beside him.

“I never did it when I was younger, since my old man thought it was a waste of time. After that…I dunno, it seems pointless. I can slide on ice on my own anyway, why bother with skates? It’s basically the equivalent of walking on tall knives, on an already slipper surface. It seems stupid and dangerous, an—oh, er, well, I mean. It’s cool if you like it. I just… don’t.”

Somehow, Bakugou found himself grinning as he heard Todoroki rambling.

Considering how little he usually spoke, it was infuriatingly cute to hear him going on and on like that for no damn reason. Not only that, but Bakugou found it incredibly satisfying to hear that they both hated ice skating, even if their reasons were different. It sorta made them feel like kindred spirits, seeing as they were probably the only two people in this damn class that felt that way.

Though, unfortunately, their mutual hatred for the sport didn’t mean Bakugou could banish thoughts of Todoroki in those damn tight figure skater outfits—

“A-ah, uh, it’s okay!” Clearly shitty Deku’s idea of an ice skating date was ruined, and Bakugou didn’t even try to hide his own satisfaction at that. “I’ll try to think of other places we can go!”

God damn it.

Not wanting to hear anymore, Bakugou made a show of plodding in noisily, startling both the occupants of the kitchen. Sparing them nothing but an unamused raise of the eyebrow, he shoved his way past both of them to get to the sink. A glimmer of annoyance passed through Deku’s eyes, and it was enough to pull a small smug smirk onto Bakugou’s face as he cleaned his dishes loudly. Neither of them seemed to notice he’d overheard their conversation, though.

Good, that meant he could get out and stop thinking about this as soon as possible.

“Bakugou.”

Or not.

“The fuck you want, Half-n-Half?” he snapped, not looking away from his chopsticks.

“I…”

Was Bakugou’s mind fucking with him, or was that Todoroki hesitating?

“I never got a chance to return the handkerchief you gave me. I’ve already washed it and everything. Can I swing by your room later and give it to you?”

Todoroki coming to his room was the last thing he wanted right now.

Or well, that was a lie—it was all he really wanted, but he also knew how terrible of an idea that would be. He could already feel himself twitching to drag Todoroki away now, to lock them both up in his room so he could just hug him and kiss those perfect lips that really needed some damn lip balm.

Fuck this crush.

A small, more rational part of his mind, though, couldn’t help but note the peculiarity of the request. It was a handkerchief. Nothing special or unique, just a basic one that he could and already had easily replaced. It wasn’t the first one Bakugou had given out to someone, and most likely wouldn’t be the last, so it hardly seemed necessary to try and return it now.

Even if Todoroki was insistent on giving it back, he could have easily done so earlier. Sure, at the dorms, Bakugou locked himself away, but they were forced together during classes, training, and mealtimes anyway. Regardless of when, he could have easily returned it beforehand. There was something more to the request, Bakugou knew without asking.

If he had to guess, he’d say that Todoroki wanted to talk. About what exactly, he wasn’t sure.

He’s been staring at you!

Yeah, he’s not dealing with that shit.

“Fucking keep it, I don’t care.”

That was all he gruffed out before practically stomping out to the living room.

Todoroki didn’t follow.

Chapter Text

When 20 people lived together under one roof, things were rarely, if ever, quiet.

Now, though, in the blanketing darkness of night on December 30^th, Bakugou could practically feel the silence enveloping his very being. Christmas had come and gone, and people had left fairly quickly afterwards. Everyone trickled out of the dorms one by one to go be with their families for the rest of break, until Bakugou was the only one left in the dormitory. He, himself, would be leaving the following morning, but despite that, he found himself unable to sleep now.

Heaving out a sigh, he forced himself out from under the warm comforts of his sheets. As tempting as it was to just lie there and stare at the ceiling until sunrise, he knew he’d need his energy the following day if he was going to be putting up with his parents. It’d be better to get out whatever nerves he had now by doing something to use up his energy, so he could at least try to catch at least a few hours of sleep afterwards before he went home.

Before he stepped out of his room, he threw on a jacket and snatched up a blanket to wrap over his shoulders. The heaters in the rooms worked more than well, so even as he stepped away from his bed he felt plenty toasty. The hallways and common areas, however, always ran a bit cold no matter how much they adjusted the central thermostat.

Layered up and with his phone in hand, Bakugou pushed open his door and stepped out.

He meandered through the long stretches of corridors with shuffling steps as he took in the silence of the place. Rarely did he ever get to experience this sort of quiet. With all the extras roaming around, there was always be something going on or someone talking, no matter what time of the day it was. Even back home, with how loud he and his mom could get, things were never really silent. If they weren't around shouting at each other, there'd at least be some sort of ambient noise: cars driving by outside, crickets chirping, the TV running. Anything to prove that there were people alive in their home.

Here, though, there was none of that.

The silence had been more than a bit unsettling at first, making Bakugou feel as though needed to fill the void himself. He’d done whatever he could, whether it was blasting music or shouting at his videogames or even just letting pots clang together when he cooked. Even with that, though, he couldn’t fill the quiet all the time, and it was those times where he really felt how suffocating it could be.

That was when he started hearing them. Small noises from above and around him resounding through the hollow walls. Had the idiot crew been here, one of them—probably Kaminari—probably would have started rambling on about ghosts and the dorms being haunted or some shit. As if Bakugou believed in that sort of nonsense. The sounds were probably just random noises from outside, like trees thudding against the walls or people talking outside.

Still, as random as they were, Bakugou soon found himself gaining comfort from the sounds.

As mundane and soft as they were, they made him feel accompanied in these wide, luxurious hallways. Because all the lights activated via motion-detectors, most places in building were dark unless Bakugou walked there. Their fridge was almost entirely empty, and the common room TV was almost never on. The sounds of water filling the tub and his slippery footsteps hitting the floor echoed in the baths now that there was no one was around to talk over them. There were no signs of life anywhere in these huge dorms, save for the ones Bakugou made himself, and the mysterious sounds from above that kept him company on occasion. He didn't like admitting it, but they helped a lot.

After all, with everyone gone for the holidays, Bakugou was alone.

He had difficulty being alone—truly alone, with absolutely no one around. It wasn’t something he liked to acknowledge, let alone confess to, and it was something he only really started getting around to talking about after numerous sessions with Hound Dog. He’d always had people around him, from his posse that worshipped him in middle school to his nosy-ass family to the idiots here who insisted on being friends with him.

Ha, what dumbasses they were, wanting to be friends with an asshole like Bakugou. As that thought passed his mind, though, he could practically hear Hound Dog telling him off. Shaking his head in disapproval, he’d say some shit like ‘that sort of self-deprecation feeds to the insecurities that make your temper flare out and worsen your superiority complex’ or whatever.

God, counselling pissed him off sometimes, even if he knew it had helped him.

As painful as it often felt, talking through this shit in Hound Dog’s shitty, comfortable office broke down a lot of the walls he hadn’t realized he’d built around himself. He was now starting to accept his own weaknesses, not as reasons for vicious self-doubt, but as points to improve on instead. He was rediscovering a snarky but sociable personality that he’d previously hidden beneath a mountain of fear and ambition. And most importantly, he was starting to open up to his own real feelings about people he’d kept locked away for so long.

He could admit that the intense hatred he had always felt for shitty Deku was (mostly) unwarranted. He could admit that hanging out with Kirishima and the rest on Christmas Day made him happier than he ever could have expected. He could admit he knew why his head would run in circles and his heart would pound heavily in his chest every time he saw—

“Todoroki?!”

Bakugou wasn’t sure what he had expected to see when he stepped out of the elevator into the common room, but it certainly wasn’t that familiar sight of glossy red and white hair.

“Ah, Bakugou.”

No, he wasn’t dreaming. That really was Todoroki, sitting in almost complete darkness in their dorms.

He must have specifically turned off all the lights at some point, since the motion-sensors weren't activating to turn them on even as Bakugou stepped into the room. Only the minimal flickering of light from the T.V., set to some random movie with the volume turned all the way down, illuminated Todoroki’s face. He was sat on Bakugou’s favorite arm chair, though that fact breezed past him in favor of the shock that had taken up residency in his mind.

“The hell are you doing here?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Todoroki didn’t seem to mind the outburst, just shrugging as Bakugou broke out of his stupor to turn on one of the lights. He didn’t turn them all on, though. It was just enough to brighten up the corner of the common room where the TV was, as the rest of the room leaked in darkness from the tall, uncovered windows surrounding them. With the additional bit of light, Bakugou found himself stuck by just how tired Todoroki looked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Todoroki said eventually.

They stared at each other for a moment, willing each other to dare talk into the strange, disconcerting quiet that had fallen between them. Naturally, Bakugou broke both the eye contact and the silence first.

“Tch.”

Glancing away, he walked over to the kitchen without another word. The light clicking on above him as he entered, Bakugou tried to ignore the feeling of eyes drilling into his back as he thought. He’d been so sure that he was alone in the dorms, even if he hadn’t really come out of his room much to see people leave.

Had Todoroki known he was here? He must have, with how loud he’d been over the past few days. He supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that Todoroki was still around. They never ran into each other normally anyway if it wasn't for class, since they had such different eating and bathing schedules to each other. It explained the random sounds he'd been hearing too, and it wasn’t like Todoroki would ever actively seek him out or anything either, right?

…the handkerchief… Can I swing by your room later and give it to you?

Gritting his teeth, Bakugou nearly slammed the teapot onto the kitchen counter as he moved to turn the kettle on. He hadn’t really had a plan for what to do when he got down here, just figuring he might game or work out or whatever ‘til he felt tired. Now, though, it was almost like he was moving solely by muscle memory as he found himself pulling out two mugs and a familiar pouch of dried yellow flowers.

He brewed the tea in silence, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders just a little tighter.

Todoroki didn’t say anything either, but Bakugou wasn’t surprised to see those two-colored eyes watching him intently when he walked back over. The second he started walking, Todoroki straightened his back a bit, curiously. He eyed the two mugs in his hands for only a second before his eyes flickered back up to his face, his gaze imploring and anticipating.

But for all his staring, Todoroki still seemed taken aback when Bakugou shoved one of the mugs in his face.

“Here,” he said gruffly, much softer than he would have liked.

“Huh?”

God, Todoroki was an idiot.

“Chamomile,” Bakugou explained curtly. “Good for relaxation and shit. Helps for sleep.”

“Oh,” Todoroki said dumbly before he reached his hands up to gingerly grasp around the mug. “Sor…thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Bakugou settled into a seat at the adjacent couch, peering at Todoroki over his own mug. The boy had taken to blowing short, open breaths onto his tea to cool it down, though it hardly seemed necessary with that quirk of his. Surely some hot tea wouldn’t burn his tongue if he could withstand actual fire, would it? Maybe so, seeing as Todoroki sipped at it after only a couple seconds of trying to cool it down.

“It’s good,” he said softly, face still partially obscured by the mug.

Bakugou didn’t say anything, drinking his own slowly and letting the sounds of their swallows take over the room.

“So,” he said after a few moments, “why are you here?”

“Huh?” Todoroki glanced up at him in surprise, involuntarily pulling the mug down to his lap as he did. “I told you, couldn’t slee—”

“I mean,” Bakugou interrupted, sounding more annoyed than he felt, “why are you still here, and not at home? Shouldn’t you be with your family, or whatever?”

Pursing his lips, Todoroki looked away and let his gaze fixate on the corner edge of the coffee table instead.

“I could say the same for you,” he dodged, and Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“I leave at 8,” he said, vaguely noting how it was already past midnight. Great, there went any hopes for eight hours of sleep.

“Oh.” A pause. “I leave tomorrow night. Or, well, tonight, I guess.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgement but said nothing else. There was something more there, but if Todoroki didn’t want to tell him about it, he wouldn’t pry. 

Instead, he tried not to think about how odd but how right it felt to be next to Todoroki again. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest and the way his fingers twitched to hold halfie in his arms. He tried to ignore the flush that was building on his cheeks at the thought of thumbing over the flaking, cracking skin of Todoroki’s pink lips.

“I didn’t want to go home.”

Bakugou was jerked from his thoughts at the sudden words, but Todoroki didn’t notice his startling.

“Or rather, I just… I wanted to spend as much time away as I could, I guess.”

He paused, before suddenly he was snapping his head up to look straight at Bakugou. His eyes were glazed over, shining with inexplicable glassiness, and the very sight of it had Bakugou’s gut curling in the worst way.

“Do you think people can change, Bakugou?”

That certainly caught him off guard, and he was lucky he wasn’t drinking his tea at the time so he didn’t choke on it. Gritting his teeth, he looked down at his mug as he thought.

“Depends on what they’re changing,” he said slowly, testing the waters.

A deep sigh surprised him a bit, making him look up to see where Todoroki had fell back against the cushions, his usual sharply straight posture gone in favor of a resigned slump. He wasn’t looking at Bakugou anymore, instead staring at the opposite wall with a distant look. He looked exhausted, and it was all Bakugou could do to not put their mugs away and scoop him into his arms right then and there.

“I think people can,” Todoroki said finally, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. “I do, I really do…but sometimes I wonder if I give him more credit than he deserves.”

Him.

I didn’t want to go home.

Bakugou knew all too well exactly what, or rather who, Todoroki was talking about. How could he not? It was the one person that would likely haunt the boy for the rest of his days, no matter how much he tried to move on. Seasons could pass, people could change, but the fear and memories would never truly disappear.

“She wanted to come to the house this year,” Todoroki continued.

It was clear he wasn’t talking to Bakugou anymore. Or anyone, really. He had no intended audience but the ever-growing presence of his own thoughts. If this was what needed, though, Bakugou would gladly let the quiet boy ramble for now.

“I… I hate that house. It’s nothing but a place for pain and suffering and bad memories. After everything, she’s finally gotten her own freedom. But she still wants to go back, to the place that ruined her in the first place? To the man who ruined her? I know… I know she says it’s for us, that she wants us to try to all come together again, to fix things, but I just don’t understand. How can she just forgive him for everything?”

Exhaling loudly, Todoroki dropped his head to hang low and let his hand come up to rub at his face roughly. Though muffled, the next words were clearly cracked and wet, and it had Bakugou’s heart breaking just a little bit more.

“I know she says he’s changed, and I want to believe that, but…”

Todoroki exhaled shakily and shook his head, more to himself than anything else.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload on you. I’ll…I’ll go to bed now. Thanks for the tea.”

Bakugou wasn’t meant for this. He barely had access to his own deepest emotions, let alone any knowledge of how to handle other people’s. Someone else should be there, like Iida or Yaoyorozu or even shitty Deku, to help diffuse the situation or comfort Todoroki or whatever it was he needed right now. But there was no one else there to rely on for help.

And even if there had been, Bakugou wanted to do this.

Without a second’s hesitation, he let his blanket fall from his shoulders and moved quickly to crouch by Todoroki. Taking the mug from the boy’s dangerously loose grasp, he set it as well as his own on the coffee table beside him. The action made Todoroki pull his gaze away from his hand to look at him with shocked curiosity, which stopped Bakugou for only a second. But then, he saw the slight, swollen redness rimming Todoroki’s eyes, and the glistening wetness of unshed tears along his irises.

Seeing that was all he needed to throw any hesitation out the window.

Wordlessly, he leaned in and outstretched his arms. Lifting a leg up, he pressed his knee up against one of the armrests to steady himself. One hand snaked beneath Todoroki’s armpit to lay on the top of his back, while the other one cupped at his cheek. He left it there for a moment, holding Todoroki’s wet gaze with a stare of his own, before he let it move behind to instead wind fingers in dual-colored hair. With the lightest of presses, he pushed Todoroki to rest his head against Bakugou's neck, letting him nuzzle his whole face into the crook of his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” he muttered softly.

Todoroki was tense in his grasp, and for a second Bakugou worried he went too far. He wasn’t a words sort of guy, so actions like this seemed like his best bet. He hadn’t thought of what Todoroki’s response might be, though, hadn’t thought of how he might react to being touched like this. God, maybe he hated it, but didn’t know how to say it.

Bakugou was just about to pull away and apologize, give an excuse for the sudden… hug? Embrace? Whatever it was he just did. But just as he started to move, two trembling arms came up to wrap around his waist and tugged lightly. Letting out a breath, Bakugou tightened his grip a miniscule amount, and that was all Todoroki needed.

He didn’t really cry, not in the normal sense. He wasn’t wailing or shit like the crying people in movies always would. Hiccups and sobs didn’t wrack his body violently, and he wasn’t sniffling erratically like shitty Deku did whenever he cried, which was practically always.

Really, from an outsider’s perspective, Todoroki might have looked totally normal, if not a bit tired. But from here, Bakugou could feel the intense quivering of Todoroki’s limbs and breath as he tried to reel his emotions in. He could feel the dampness starting to seep into the thick fabric of his jacket. He could feel the fingers clutching at his waist desperately as though it were life support.

Bakugou wanted to murder someone, anyone who could have made Todoroki feel this way at any point in his life. But instead, he just tightened his grip more and buried his face in silky white strands of hair.

They stayed like that for an imperceptible amount of time. It could have been two minutes, it could have been two hours. Either way, it felt like not nearly enough time before Todoroki was pulling away with wobbly breaths and an even wobblier smile.

He didn’t pull away much, though. It was far enough so that he could face Bakugou, but close enough that their noses were almost touching. The position was unimaginably intimate, and Bakugou tensed to hold himself back from closing the gap between their lips.

“Thank you, Bakugou.”

Todoroki’s breath wafted over him, a mix of herbal and sweet, in warm, comforting huffs with each word. Neither of them made any move to pull away, and it made restraining himself all that much harder for Bakugou.

“You good, halfie?” he asked instead, and the nickname evoked a sweet, tinkling laugh from Todoroki.

“Yeah,” he said, letting his hands untangle from Bakugou’s waist slowly.

Trying to hide his own disappointment, Bakugou followed the action and pulled his hands away from Todoroki, leaning back to stand up straight before taking a seat at the couch once again. Wordlessly, he grabbed the mugs from the coffee table and handed one to Todoroki, who accepted it graciously. In an attempt to hide his own blush, Bakugou immediately went to drink his tea, only to grimace when he did.

“It’s cold,” he huffed.

“Give it here.”

Bakugou obediently handed the mug over to Todoroki, watching as he held it delicately in his left hand. The smallest bits of light shone from his palm as he activated his fire.

As Bakugou watched Todoroki carefully heat up his tea to what he deemed satisfactory, he suddenly felt himself mentally transported to days prior, when he’d been in Todoroki’s room after the boy froze everything over. He found himself almost startled at just how similar the incidents felt. Shared cups of tea after stark moments of vulnerability, comfortable silence pervading the room as Todoroki took solace in Bakugou’s presence.

Just as he did in Todoroki’s.

The familiarity of the scene had something aching in Bakugou’s  chest, something he couldn’t put words to no matter how much he tried.

“Take it by the handle, the bottom’s hot,” Todoroki warned as he handed to cup back, and Bakugou couldn’t stop himself from scoffing.

“I can take the heat,” he retorted, even as he listened to the warning and took it by the handle. To his surprise, his words only drew another smile from Todoroki.

“I guess you’re right.” His eyes seemed thoughtful, not so much distant as before as much as they were fond. “You carried me that day, to Recovery Girl, after all. Anyone else would’ve gotten burned.” Todoroki ran his finger along the rim of his mug as he spoke. “I never got a chance to properly thank you for that.”

“You’ve said plenty,” Bakugou said with a snort, but Todoroki shook his head.

“I really haven’t.” He paused. “You’ve helped me out a lot, more than I could’ve ever expected. I… thank you. Really.”

Bakugou bit his tongue. There were so many things he wanted to do and say in that moment, but instead, he just sat himself down quietly and nodded. They sat there in silence for a moment, with Bakugou watching the muted T.V. mindlessly as Todoroki stared at him with an unnervingly piercing stare. It felt as though he was reading him like an open book, uncovering all his veils and digging to find all his secrets.

“Where did you go for Christmas?”

Bakugou glanced over slowly, but Todoroki was still just staring at him.

“Shibuya,” he answered eventually. “Shitty Hair said Christmas’s the best in Tokyo, and he dragged me out to go hang with him and the rest of the idiots. Not like we really did anything but eat a fuckton and look at the lights.”

“Mm.”

A faraway look was returning to Todoroki’s eyes, and Bakugou instantly decided he hated it. It made his expression entirely unreadable, as though he was encasing his emotions back into the cage of ice they’d always been in.

“Kirishima is really nice, isn’t he?”

“…yeah.” Bakugou kept his tone cautiously flat, trying to get any hint of what Todoroki was thinking.

“He seems like a good friend.”

“I guess.” They were ‘best buds,’ apparently, according to Kirishima, and Bakugou would be lying if he said he didn’t kinda like that. “You coulda told him if you want to hang, he would’ve been happy to invite you out.”

Something flashed in Todoroki’s eyes, but it was too quick to catch.

“No, no, it’s okay, that’s not what I meant. I… I was out with Midoriya the whole day, anyway.”

Right.

Bakugou scoffed, though it felt more than a little bit forced as he relaxed into the couch cushions beneath. He raised an eyebrow, though, when noticed the tightness in Todoroki’s expression. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his lips were pursed, and his jaw was clenched as though he was lost in bad thoughts.

“What, chilling with shitty Deku not as fun as you hoped?”

“I don’t think I’m a good friend.”

That took Bakugou aback, his eyes widening in bewilderment as he gaped at Todoroki, who had at this point dropped his gaze to his knees as he set his now empty mug aside.

“I mean, Midoriya’s done so much for me, ever since first year. He never needed to get involved in my life, but he did anyway, for my sake. But even now, I really don’t understand why he tries so hard.”

“Todo—”

“He says we’re friends, and that’s why, but is that really enough reason? I mean, what sort of friend does that make me, when I’m not able to help him the way he helps me?”

“Oi, Half-n-Ha—”

“Or the way you help me, for that matter.”

Bakugou’s breath hitched, and Todoroki eyed him with that imploring gaze of his.

“I feel like I always somehow end up indebted to you lately, and I don’t really know what I did to deserve—”

“Todoroki!”

Bakugou didn’t feel himself move, didn’t notice it at all even as the name tore out of his throat in a rough shout. But suddenly he was stood up right in front of the arm chair, his arms braced against its back cushion on either side of Todoroki’s head. The position trapped Todoroki in place as he leaned in so that their faces were close again.

Not just close, but closer, so that the tips of their noses were pressing into each other and Bakugou could see all the tiniest details of Todoroki’s heterochromatic eyes. He could see how the grey of one eye seemed almost black in the shadows Bakugou left on his face, how the blue of the other shone slightly green from the T.V. still running in the background. He could see the complex web of emotions swirling around in both of them, confusion standing out among all of them.

“…Bakugou?”

“You’re an idiot.”

Bakugou wasn’t really sure who he was talking to—Todoroki, or himself. Either way, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. His head spun as Todoroki's scent invaded his senses and fogged his vision. His fingers dug deeply into the cushion beneath them, blunt fingernails scratching against the material as he relaxed his clenched jaw and leaned in.

Their lips made contact in the softest of smacks, the sound overpowered by Todoroki’s surprised cry.

It was a gentle kiss, closed-mouthed and chaste as their lips did nothing but press against each other. Todoroki seemed frozen in place, neither kissing back or pushing him away, and that only spurred Bakugou on further. Dragging his hands away from the arm chair, he brought them both up to cup loosely at Todoroki’s cheeks.

He needed to stop.

He already fucked up, went too far, but god he couldn’t stop. The feeling of those plush but dry lips against his drove him insane, and he found himself getting completely lost in the sensation of half his lips being colder than the other. He could taste just the barest traces of the tea he’d been drinking, of the toothpaste he’d just recently used to brush his teeth with. Both tastes, though, were almost entirely overpowered by Todoroki’s very essence that had Bakugou falling off the deep end.

In a sudden show of force, he brought his knee up to rest between Todoroki’s thighs and tightened his hands on the boy’s cheek. With quick motions, he straightened his back partially. The movement forced Todoroki, his head still caught in a tight grip, to crane his head back painfully far while Bakugou pulled his face even closer. It gave him complete control of the Todoroki's head as he pushed further into the kiss.

That seemed to snap Todoroki out of whatever stupor he was in, as his arms come up to push lightly at Bakugou in warning. When he didn’t budge, he tried to speak instead. The cry was muffled against by their still connected lips, but it was clear as day what he was saying.

“Bakugou!”

Using Todoroki’s suddenly open mouth as an opportunity, Bakugou deepened the kiss with an open-mouthed kiss of his own. He suckled at the inner bits of Todoroki’s lips, letting his tongue run over the flaky patches threatening to rip off at any moment now. The action drew out a soft whimper from the boy beneath him, and it made something deep within Bakugou stir.

That whimper was a sound unlike anything he’d ever heard from Todoroki, and it had him plunging his tongue in before he could think. He explored the hot and cold cavern messily, swallowing up all of Todoroki’s small moans and words like a parched man in the desert gulping down oasis water.

He felt those hands on his jacket, which could have so easily pushed him away, curl their fingers into his jacket instead as they tugged him closer. Timidly, Todoroki’s tongue pushed against his, as though not quite sure what to do but wanting to try.

Groaning, Bakugou let his hands slither back, so that his thumbs ran alongside Todoroki’s sideburns, and the rest of his fingers cupped around the back of his neck. They tangled into Todoroki’s hair, tugging ever-so-slightly at the strands. His red hair was drier, rougher than the white ones, even though both sides looked so smooth.

As he felt up the hair in his fingers, he knew right then and there that he was in far too deep.

It felt like an eternity had passed until they had to pull away, both panting heavily for breath as they did. The slightest trail of saliva sloppily connected their lips, a sight that made Bakugou want to dive right back in. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in once more, only this time, he pressed their foreheads together as they caught their breaths.

The room stayed painfully silent for a moment, and in that time, Bakugou could pretend nothing was wrong. With his fingers still wormed into Todoroki’s hair, and Todoroki’s hands still buried into his chest, he could pretend like all of this was normal. He could pretend that he didn’t just royally fuck up his already tentative friendship with Todoroki.

But as with everything good in the world, that blanket of silence died all too soon.

“Bakugou?”

The sound of his name, so sweet and soft in Todoroki’s mouth, was enough to harshly bring him back to reality. This wasn’t his to enjoy. None of this was. Todoroki didn’t him the same way he did, and never would. Hell, Todoroki never should like someone like him. He deserved someone infinitely better, that could love and care for him like the way he deserved.

Someone like shitty Deku.

“Tch.”

He felt like something physically tore inside of him when he tore himself away from Todoroki then. The movement drew a surprised cry in response, but Bakugou barely heard it though the loud thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ears. Without even a single glance back, he did the only thing he could think to.

He ran.

“Wait, Bakugou!”

The call was just almost enough to stop him in his tracks, but he trekked on as he slammed the door the emergency exit stairwell behind him. He sprinted all the way up the stairs to the fourth floor, never stopping for even a second to pause. He didn’t stop until he was safely in his room, the door locked behind him as he threw himself under his covers. It wasn’t as warm without his extra blanket, but there was no way he was going back down there now.

Only a few moments later, though, a loud knock on his door was sounding through his room, startling him.

“Bakugou.”

Even through the thick wood of this door, he could so clearly hear Todoroki’s voice, could hear the melodic tilt with which he said he name. Hearing it, Bakugou wanted nothing more than to go out there and yank Todoroki back into his room with him, keeping him in his arms for the rest of time.

But he couldn’t.

“Bakugou, please, talk to me.”

Oh, how desperate Todoroki’s voice sounded then drove him mad with want, insane with guilt.

 “Please?”

Curling himself further into his and shutting his eyes tight, he willed himself to fall asleep then and there. It was impossible, of course. The adrenaline coursing through his veins alongside his pumping blood was more than enough to keep him wide awake.

A minute passed like that, then two, then five. Bakugou was sure Todoroki was gone, but he didn’t dare move an inch, didn’t dare even breathe loudly for fear he’d be discovered.

He almost jumped when he heard a soft, defeated sigh through the door.

“I’ll leave this here. Good night, Bakugou. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bakugou stayed tense, even as he heard the soft thudding of footsteps walking away from his door. It wasn’t until they were completely gone, and he heard the distant ding of the elevator going up, did he relax even a little.

He fell into a dreamless sleep after that, trying not to think of hot and cold lips, of red and white hair, of chamomile and mint.

Chapter Text

The next day, Bakugou left earlier than early.

He didn’t eat, didn’t bathe, didn’t do anything that would require him to be outside of his room or catch any attention. Only once he was all packed up did he step out, stopping for a split second when his foot came into contact with something soft. Glancing down, he saw it.

His blanket.

Lips twisted and heart conflicted, he stepped over it and practically bolted downstairs. He didn’t want to risk anything, so he focused on getting out of the dorm before he could be detected. Once he was out, he kept up his fast pace to rush to the nearest station. Catching the earliest train possible, he collapsed into an exhausted heap on a seat with his suitcase in tow.

The other passengers in the cabin hardly seemed to notice him, too busy in their own early-morning tiredness to care about the random frantic but fatigued kid. And so, he tilted his head back and shut his eyes until he reached his stop. The walk back home was silent. He could have put on music or given his parents a call to let them know he was coming early, but he didn’t want to check his phone just in case Todoroki had texted him.

While his mom hardly seemed pleased to be woken up at 6AM, the look on her son’s face was enough to keep her silent as she let him in.

The rest of break went by in the blink of eye, unfortunately for him.

He didn’t tell his parents why he came early that morning, and they didn’t ask in response. The old hag whined a bit about losing beauty sleep, and his old man said he’d get him a key so that he could let himself in, but that was it. A couple hours of fitful sleep, a quick workout and shower, and a small breakfast later, and he was plunged into family affairs.

That day had been busy enough to keep his mind off of things well enough. Both his folks were big on traditions, so he certainly had his work cut out for him. Between the intense house cleaning to prepare for the new year, and all the cooking preparation needed for New Year’s foods, he was practically working the whole day. By the time they’d finished, he’d practically collapsed into an exhausted heap on his bed and instantly fell asleep.

New Years passed without much issue. They’d woken up for the sunrise, then had the meal they’d prepped for the day before. Things were characteristically rambunctious and loud as they prepared to visit the local shrine, and for once, Bakugou was grateful for the commotion.

“Oi, brat!”

Bakugou tried not to flinch at his mom’s shouts. It wasn’t so much the volume that startled him—the old hag was always a fucking pain in the ass with how loud she was—so much as it was the suddenness of it. He’d been lost in his thoughts, silent in a random corner where he thought his folks wouldn’t find him, and her shout snapped him back into reality about as pleasantly as a bucket of cold water poured onto his head.

“The fuck you want, hag?” he snapped back, narrowly dodging a fist to the top of his head.

“C’mon, stupid kid,” his mom said instead, grabbing him by his shirt collar and forcibly dragging him away into the crowd of shrine-goers. “You’re gonna come pray.”

Snorting, Bakugou barely managed to hold back a retort about how stupid the whole fucking thing was. He had been perfectly happy to stand off to the side while his folks went around the shrine and did shit. All he wanted to do was stand in a corner and mope to his heart’s content, not stand in line for fucking ever just to make a damn wish to the gods.

Still, he couldn’t help but admit the interruption was a welcome distraction. Everything around here was red and white, and it was stupidly reminding him of Todoroki. Fuck, everything reminded him of Todoroki now, from the chill in the air to the sight of cold soba to even the damn colors of the shrine.

God, he was so damn distracting, even when he wasn’t around. Stupid, shitty Half-n-Half bastard.

It took a good amount of time for them to reach the front of the line, during which Bakugou fell into a comfortable conversation with his old man about the new designs they were creating at work. He had to admit, the fashion shit his parents did was pretty cool, even if he’d never go into it himself. They had a good eye for style, and it was probably the only reason Bakugou knew how to dress himself so damn well.

Though, it wasn’t like there was much competition, considering the people he knew. Hell, practically everyone in his class were complete scrubs when it came to fashion. Some of the girls, like Ponytail or Invisi-bitch weren’t too bad, but most of the guys were fucking helpless. Idiots like shitty Deku or Shitty Hair practically lived and breathed sweatpants, while others, like Dunce Face or the Grape Pervert had no damn clue how to match textures and colors. The shit some of them wore was jarring as hell, and it made Bakugou so damn glad they had school uniforms and jerseys.

Not all of them were terrible, though. Aoyama, for how fucking gaudy he acted, had decent style when he was in casual clothes. It was a lot of button-ups and well-fitted pants, but at least he didn’t drench himself in glitter like he did with that fucking cape of his in his hero costume. Shouji had a sorta rough style going for him that Bakugou could respect, while Kouda liked his comfy but chic clothes.

And then, there was Todoroki.

He surprisingly wasn’t terrible at dressing himself, though he didn’t seem to really give a rat’s ass about fashion or anything like that. He stuck to the basics—solid colors, workable fabrics, that sort of thing—but he pulled it off seamlessly well. How he could look so stylish with just turtleneck and jeans, Bakugou wasn’t sure, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining either.

If there was one spot for improvement, though, it would be the fit. Todoroki seemed to lean on the same mentality that most of their classmates did, and that was that there was no need for form-fitting clothes in everyday wear. Their gym outfits, sure, were more of a stretchy, fitted spandex type, but that was probably the extent of Todoroki’s snug fits.

Bakugou himself could admit the comforts of looser, more freeing clothes, but in his opinion, it was practically a tragedy to keep Todoroki’s figure hidden away in piles of fabric. Tighter jeans to accentuate those painfully long legs, a shorter sleeve to show off the well earned biceps… hell, even just a few accessories would be nice! Some earrings or a choker to accentuate the delicacy of his facial features—

“…ki? Oi, Katsuki!”

The sudden shout of his name dragged Bakugou out of his thoughts.

Fuck, he’d been thinking about Todoroki again.

“C’mon, you’re holding the line up, brat!” his mom shouted, and Bakugou scoffed as he stepped forward.

Tossing in the coin his dad gave him, Bakugou bowed and clapped as needed. He didn’t come to the shrine very often, but it was often enough that the routine was practically engrained into his system. His wish never changed, year to year: to be the Number One Hero.

Not like he really needed any gods or whatever to help him with that—he was the fucking best, so he was gonna become the top without help from any deities or spirits or whatever. Still, he’d started saying that prayer back when he was a kid, and it was almost instinctual now.

“Think your prayers’ll come true this year?” his mom said, nudging him annoyingly as they stepped away from the shrine and walked over to buy amulets and wish boards.

Scoffing, Bakugou didn’t answer her, instead letting his eyes skim the display stands to find the amulet for ‘victory.’ He was gonna win everything this year, as always, but a little charm to confirm it wouldn’t hurt.

“Maybe the gods’ll give you some luck with love this year, who knows?”

“The fuck!”

Bakugou all but snapped his head over to his mom, whose smug expression melted into shock at his loud response. Fuck, she’d just been joking around like always, and now Bakugou made himself seem like a sensitive ass bitch. God damn it.

“Huh?” The old hag blinked a few times, before the surprise on her face was slowly melting away into something akin to understanding. There was a warmth Bakugou didn’t often see in her eyes, and it had him looking away immediately. “Kid, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled.

“Katsuki, are you…?” his dad started, and Bakugou just clucked his tongue.

“C’mon, let’s fucking finish this so we can go shopping,” he answered instead, desperate to change the topic. “New Year crowds are the fucking worst, the department stores are gonna be packed.”

He didn’t see the knowing look his parents shared behind his back. Instead, he felt his dad’s hand firmly clasp onto his shoulder, reassuringly silent. He felt his mom’s slap on his back, as she loudly and rambunctiously started ranting about the newest skincare on the market. It was all comfortably familiar, and suddenly, Bakugou was letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Love.

Gritting his teeth, Bakugou made his way out of the shrine and distracted himself with thoughts of on-sale All Might merchandise.

Crushes fucking sucked.

-

There were only a few days of break after that, but they passed by torturously slow.

With all the New Year’s festivities out of the way, there was nothing left to pull him away his endless spiral of the thoughts. He did all the normal things he’d usually do when he was on break—work out more, game a fuckton, bicker with the old hag—but it was never enough to completely distract him. Instead, whenever he had even a second to himself, his mind wandered to Todoroki.

He could see the concerned looked his parents were giving him when they thought he wasn’t looking, but he ignored them. It wasn’t like they could help him anyway. He was the one who fucked up. He’d dug this hole, and he’d have to bury himself in it.

Checking his phone didn’t help much either. As he’d suspected, he had a few missed texts from Todoroki, the notifications glaring obvious on his screen every time he looked. Still, he refused to open them. Every time he went on a responding spree, replying to all of the texts he got from Kirishima and the rest in one go, his finger would hover over Todoroki’s chat bubble.

It’d be so easy, to tap at that little bubble and read the messages. There were four of them, apparently, according to the notification number. For what felt like a hundred times, he’d stare his screen as the preview of Todoroki’s latest message taunted him. It was a short message, once he could read in its entirety from just the preview.

Happy New Year, Bakugou.

There was so much there. So many more things to be said, so many things Todoroki probably already did say in those previous messages. He probably had so many questions he wanted to ask, that he deserved answers to. Bakugou really needed to just read them and respond, but every time he tried, his thumb would shake until he gave up and closed the app.

God, he was such a fucking dumbass.

So he threw himself into whatever shitty things he did to keep his mind occupied, savoring the last few days of break before he’d be forced to confront his own stupidity. He helped out more in the kitchen, much to the surprise of his mom, and he even hung out with his dad more. He got through a hundred more levels on that dumb phone game Kaminari made him download, and he tried to train his quirk control even more.

It was all too easy to throw himself into random stuff to keep himself distracted until night came, when he’d be left to his wandering mind once again.

Before he knew it, though, he was stood outside U.A.’s gates once more.

Nerves raged a fierce battle within him as he scanned his ID card and stepped in. God, he’d had to deal with so much shit since starting his hero training, but somehow this felt like the worst thing of his life. Hell, he probably felt less nervous coming back to school after being kidnapped by villains than he did coming to school now.

But fuck, if he was gonna be a hero, he could deal with this shit too.

Trudging over to the dorms with heavy feet, he allowed himself to feel a moment’s relief when he didn’t see that familiar mop of red and white hair in the common room. He didn’t let himself feel that relief for long though, knowing it’d be short-lived. He’d insisted on coming back as late as possible, which meant Monday morning. It gave him those pathetic few extra hours of freedom, but it also meant he now had to rush to get ready to class, where he’d no doubt be faced with Todoroki.

Todoroki.

God, even his stupid name sounded perfect.

Barely holding back a groan, he nodded a greeting to Ojiro, Ashido, and a few others, who were having breakfast, before he headed up to his room via the elevator. Dragging his suitcase behind him, he walked over to his door. Before he could open it, though, a sudden realization struck him into shock.

The blanket wasn’t by his door anymore.

Pursing his lips, he shook his head slightly and pushed his door open. Someone like Shitty Hair or whatever had probably seen it and tossed it into the laundry or whatever. It wasn’t a big deal, he’d find it later. If not, he’d just crank up the heater more—it was U.A.’s money they were burning, after all.

He practically chucked his suitcase into his room before he slammed the door shut behind him and walked to his closet. He’d already eaten and showered at home, delaying his return a bit and cutting his time to get ready for class. But that also meant he didn’t have to waste time in the kitchen or baths now, so without any preamble, he tossed on his school uniform, combed his hair, and trekked out.

Unsurprisingly, Ashido insisted on walking with him to class, tailing after him after practically inhaling the rest of her bread and tossing her plate into the sink. He had half a mind to tell her to fuck off,  or at least to go clean her damn dishes. But then she started rambling on about her break and the shit she did, and he found her rambling quickly helped ease his endless nerves.

So, they walked together, Bakugou mostly silent.

Once they reached the classroom, Ashido nearly threw open the door. Almost everyone was there, and Bakugou could feel the tension in the class almost immediately. Or well, from one part of the class. Ashido didn’t seem to notice at all, though, instantly bouncing over to Yaoyorozu to ask her about her break. Bakugou almost followed her, only to stop in his tracks when he realized Todoroki was sat right next to her.

So, instead, he slogged over to his own seat silently, ignoring the dual-colored eyes he knew were following his every move.

It wasn’t long before Kirishima was jumping over to him, asking him about his break and ranting on about his own. Like Ashido, it was more than comfortable to just listen to him go on and only answer when necessary. But this time, as he faced Kirishima, he could see others from the corner of his eyes.

He could see Todoroki repeatedly looking over at him, in a way he must have thought was discrete but really wasn’t. What was more, Deku kept glancing over at Todoroki, while Uraraka, Asui, and Iida watched him. It was like the whole little nerd squad was network of stupid, supposedly “sneaky” stares, with Bakugou at the middle of it.

Fucking great.

Thankfully, Aizawa was coming in soon later, forcing everyone into their seats with a single glare.

Classes passed by too quickly for comfort. Even if it was the start of the new term, the teachers didn’t hesitate to jump into course material. Between his flurry of note-taking, Bakugou didn’t have a single chance to daze off, and before he knew it, it was lunch time.

Packing up his stuff half-haphazardly, he almost frozen when he heard an all too familiar voice. Todoroki spoke quietly, as though he didn’t want to be heard by anyone else. But even then, he was at most a few feet behind Bakugou, and so his voice rung clear as day in his ears.

“Midoriya, can we talk?”

Gritting his teeth, Bakugou followed Kaminari out of class and to the cafeteria.

That wasn’t for him. Not anymore.

If Bakugou seemed off for the whole day, no one seemed to notice. Or at least, if they did, they didn’t say anything. Maybe everyone was just happy that Bakugou wasn’t yelling a fuckton today. He didn’t have the energy for that shit. So even as Ashido left her dirty dishes in the sink, or as Jirou blasted her emo music way too loud, or as Iida tried to tell him and Kirishima off for playing quirk baseball, he just brushed them off with an annoyed look and chilling silence.

Now, he was just sitting in his room trying to focus on his homework.

He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. For one, Kirishima had definitely noticed and wanted to talk about his attitude today. But he must have sensed something was off, because he didn’t bring it up during the day, for which Bakugou was eternally grateful. There was also the matter of navigating the rest of his time at U.A. without having to interact with Todoroki, because there was no way he was recovering from that night.

Groaning, he threw his pen onto his desk and cupped his face exasperatedly with both hands.

He was just about to say fuck it, give up, and go watch hero videos, when he heard a knock at his door.

Had he been thinking more, had he been less frustrated, he probably would have hesitated. It could have been anyone at his door. It could’ve been a teacher. It could’ve been Todoroki, the very person he didn’t want to see right now. It could’ve been anyone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he threw open the door and snarled.

“What the fuck do you wa—”

He cut himself off, though, when he saw none other than Deku outside his door.

Chapter Text

“Kacchan.”

Blinking away his surprise, Bakugou narrowed his eyes and tried to keep himself from yelling. The last thing he needed was Kirishima or Shouji coming by and seeing this. He wasn’t sure what shitty Deku wanted, but there was a cool determination in his eyes that made it clear this wasn’t gonna go too nicely.

“What?” he snapped when Deku just stared him down silently.

“Come outside with me for a minute.”

Bakugou obliged.

He could already feel the stares on them as they walked out the front door of the dorms. Luckily, there weren’t too many people in the common room. Those who were there, though, were completely baffled as they saw the pair walking together. He knew if Four Eyes or Ponytail were around, they would have intervened immediately. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know what was going on—with Bakugou and Deku’s track record, it was practically common knowledge that them together and secluded for any period of time was a bad idea.

Bakugou didn’t fault them for it. After all, it wasn’t like he had any idea what the fuck was going to happen either.

They walked in silence, Deku leading the way. They circled the perimeter of the building towards the back, and kept going until they were well away from the dorms. For Bakugou, the whole thing really harkened back to first year, when he challenged Deku to a fight after the incident at Kamino Ward. After he’d been kidnapped. After All Might had fallen.

It all felt so far away, so long ago, even if it was just a year ago.

This time, though, they weren’t going to Ground Beta. No, instead, Deku was leading them to a small clearing in the somewhat forested area surrounding U.A.’s campus. It was still within school grounds, only partially obscured by the surrounding trees. The dormitories were still in sight from here, but not completely. They were far enough not to be followed or eavesdropped upon, but close enough not to get into trouble if a teacher caught a drift of where they went.

“So? What d’ya want, Deku?”

Deku stopped abruptly, and it was only reflexes that kept Bakugou from bumping into him. He took a step back to make some space between them and scowled. Before he could say anything else, though, Deku was finally speaking up.

“I don’t want to fight, Kacchan.”

What the fuck did he want then?

As he waited for Deku to turn around to face him, Bakugou shoved his hands into his pockets and rested his weight onto one foot. Snow blanketed the surrounding area, and while he’d thrown on his coat and boots before leaving, the cold still bit into his skin a little.

“I really don’t, but sometimes you really make it so hard.”

Despite himself, Bakugou clenched his hands into fists in his pockets. Deku wasn’t an idiot—after their stint in first year, he knew they couldn’t risk getting into fights on school grounds without risking terrible consequences. But still, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

“The hell are you on about, you shitty nerd—!”

“What are your intentions with Shouto-kun?”

Deku’s response was almost instant, but it wasn’t the speed that caught Bakugou off guard.

“…huh?”

“You heard me.”

It took a moment for the question to sink in, and another for him to think of what to say.

This was his chance, he quickly realized. His chance to come clean about everything, to let out all the conflict that had been brewing within his mind over the past few days. He could be honest and straightforward to the man who was not only his rival as a hero-to-be, but now his rival in love.

But of course, being him, Bakugou wasn’t gonna do that.

Not when it was so much easier to be an asshole.

“Ha!” he exclaimed instead, giving a painfully fake chortle as he tried to seem cocky and arrogant as always. He hated the words he said the second they were falling from his lips. “What, tryna protect Half-n-Half’s virtue now, Deku?”

Deku grit his teeth and clenched his fists almost instantly. Fury was flashing in his bright green eyes as they narrowed, and Bakugou found himself swallowing a lump in his throat despite himself. He should’ve stopped there, but he couldn’t. It was all too easy to fall into his normal routine of goading and mocking Deku, of being crass and rude, rather than even trying to address his underlying fears.

“You trail around ‘im like a lovesick puppy, tryna get him to pay attention to you. Does fretting on him like a damn mom make him love you, Deku? Did you think if you gave him enough tissues, or complimented him enough, or invited him out enough, he’d suddenly love you?”

“Stop.”

“Ha, let me know how that fucking works out. That dense-ass motherfucker wouldn’t notice your damn pining if it smacked him upright his stupid head, he’s such a fucking dumbass.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

“What’s this? Defending his honor, now? How fuckin’ chivalrous of you. Give me a break.”

“I know you don’t actually think that about him, you won’t leave him alone either—”

“What? Worried that bad ol’ me’s gonna try and get a piece of his ass before you ca—”

“Don’t bullshit me!”

The shout immediately stunned Bakugou into silence before he could help it. Deku quickly took the chance to keep going, a shaky, sad smile tugging up on his face. Actually, all of him was shaking, Bakugou realized upon closer inspection. His eyes were glassed over with tears Bakugou just knew he was trying to choke back, his body quaking from the force of his own emotions.

The fucking crybaby.

“I’ve known you for too long, Kacchan,” he said.

Bakugou hated how fucking compassionate he sounded. He was far more comfortable with the shouting match, with raging back-and-forths, not this sappy heart-to-heart bullshit Deku was trying to pull now.

“I know when you’re trying to be an ass for the sake of being one, and this is one of those times. You can’t lie to me.”

Clicking his tongue, Bakugou looked away sharply. He’d blame the cold for the light flush covering his face now, though he doubted shitty Deku would believe him. Known him too long. That was what Deku would always said, how he’d always excuse reading into Bakugou’s mind like it was a normal thing to do.

“I know,” Deku continued, “that he won’t…he won’t ever return my feelings. I don’t have any misconceptions about that.”

Even if he shouldn’t have, Bakugou felt guilt wash over him at the words. It didn’t really matter how much time passed, did it? He’d always be the asshole picking apart of people’s weaknesses. It was shitty, going after Deku’s feelings like that, but what was done was done. Better to have him play the douchebag card and walk away, then get entangled further into this mess.

Now if only Deku would agree.

“I’ve known for a long time that he doesn’t care about me like that, and I’ve never really expected much from it. But,” Deku’s gaze grew pointed, though the effect was lessened by the wetness in his eyes, “that doesn’t mean I don’t care about him a lot. Because I do, and I don’t think that’ll ever really stop.”

Stupid, shitty Deku, who was always out there with a metaphorical or literal hand outstretched to help, even if it hurt him the most to do so.

“So I’ll ask you again, Kacchan: what are your intentions with him?”

Bakugou wanted to run. He wanted to dash out of that clearing now and never look back. But his feet were planted heavily into the ground, rooting him in place against his will. Ensnared in a conversation he’d hoped so much he could avoid, but he knew he’d be stuck in some day. For it to be with shitty Deku, of all people, was hardly making it better, but at least the familiarity wrought honesty much easily than he was comfortable with.

“…he deserves better. Better than anything I could ever fucking be.”

He kept his voice quiet. If no one heard what he said, maybe the words wouldn’t ring so damn true.

But they were. Todoroki deserved so much better than anything he could ever hope to give. After all the shit he’d been through in his life, he deserved someone normal, or at least someone stable, to bring him happiness. He didn’t deserved the fucked up bundle of complexes and anger management issues that was Bakugou Katsuki.

Deku said nothing, staring at him with those cool, analytical eyes and a slight frown even as silence fell over them. Had it been anyone else, Bakugou would have wondered if he was supposed to say more. But this was Deku, and their familiarity was a two-way streak. Deku didn’t need to hear long strings of words or passionate declarations of love or any of that explanatory nonsense. All he needed was the truth, and that overthinking brain of his.

So Bakugou just stared back, keeping his chin raised in a show of confidence so sharply contrasting the insecurity weeping from his words.  

“And the very fact that you said that makes me think you might be perfect for him.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, trying not to show his bewilderment on his face as Deku spoke. He held his gaze up even when Deku sighed, looking away with the slightest of smiles tugging at his lips. He wasn’t quivering so much anymore as he gazed fondly off into the distance. Bakugou didn’t have to ponder for too long to realize what—or rather, who— he was imagining.

 “I’ll be rooting for you, Kacchan.”

Bakugou heard more than felt his own sharp intake of breath.

“I really will,” Deku said, his tone endeared as it was quaint. “I know you have it in you to be good for him, even if you don’t believe it yet.”

“Oi, Dek—”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m a 100% on board yet.” Deku’s eyes returned to his, this time narrowed and sharpened in a glare. A warning. “You have to talk to him. You left him just like that, before New Year’s, and he’s been a wreck since.”

Bakugou wasn’t all that surprised Deku knew what had happened. The nerds all confided in each other, after all.

“He won’t want—”

“If you say he won’t want you, I swear to god I’m going to throw a Full Cowling up your ass right now.”

Taking a deep breath, Deku massaged his temples to will away the budding anger. Ha, and people said Deku was just sweetness and smiles all the time. Really, he could be just as pissy as Bakugou, if not more, when he wanted to be. He was just infuriatingly better at hiding it.

“Talk to him.”

It was a demand, and for that very reason Bakugou wanted decline. Who was he to take orders from shitty Deku of all people? He was Bakugou fucking Katsuki, and the only person he took orders from was himself. And the teachers. And law enforcement. And the old hag, sometimes. But definitely not stupid fucking Deku.

Yet, when he opened his mouth to argue, nothing would come out. His mind went blank, and he couldn’t think of a single retort, a single reason to say no. He couldn’t force himself to lie anymore, to stand there and tell Deku that he didn’t want nothing more than to rush into Todoroki’s room, pin him down, and just fucking talk for once. He knew it was going to hurt, he knew he was ripping of far more than a figurative bandaid here, but fuck if that wasn’t all he wanted to do right now.

“Fine.”

Bakugou barely managed to get out the grumbled affirmation, but it was enough to earn him a bright smile in response. Bakugou instantly looked away, not wanting to be face-to-face with that dumbly happy expression of his if he could help it. He tried not to think of how antsy he suddenly was, how jittery his whole body felt as his mind provided him with traitorous thoughts of small yet sweet grins and silky dual-colored hair.

“And Kacchan?” Deku didn’t speak again until Bakugou raised his head to make eye contact. “I promise you—if you hurt him, I will come for you with every I have.”

Consequences be damned. Even unspoken, the threat rang through the air.

Despite the situation, a smile tugged up at Bakugou’s lips as he nodded.

“You better.”

-

They walked back to the dorms in silence, this time walking side by side.

It wasn’t so much a surprise that their return was greeted with some commotion. The second they opened the door, Iida was on their case about going off on their own without telling anyone, while Shouji tried to calm him down. On another side of the room, Kirishima was calling out to Bakugou, asking him where he’d been. Someone, probably Kaminari, was snickering and saying he was surprised they didn’t kill each other.

But Bakugou didn’t heed them any mind. Not when bright blue and grey eyes were staring at him in shock.

Todoroki looked strangely frazzled, his hair a little bit of a mess and his eyes wildly wide. Bakugou vaguely toyed with the thought of Todoroki looking for them, frantically wondering where they’d gone off to, but quickly dismissed it. It wasn’t that big a deal. Todoroki wouldn’t put himself through that sort of trouble just because they disappeared for a little bit.

Except, that was exactly what it looked like, when Todoroki was suddenly rushing over to Bakugou.

Not to Midoriya, not to the both of them, but just to Bakugou, as was quickly evidenced by the hand wrapping around his wrist tightly. He wasn’t given a chance to speak before Todoroki was practically dragging him away to the emergency stairwell. Their classmates gawked at them in a mix of confusion and awe, but Bakugou didn’t acknowledge them as he trailed behind Todoroki without question.

They trekked up the stairs in the same silence, though Bakugou did make a small surprised noise when they stop on the fourth floor, not the fifth. It became quickly apparently that Todoroki intended to take them to Bakugou’s room, which was a bit unexpected. Sparing him a glance, Todoroki huffed a sigh as they walked down the long corridor.

“Yours is closer,” was all he gave in explanation, but it was enough.

They stopped in front of the door for just a second, before Bakugou was opening it for both of them. Shoving them both in unceremoniously, Todoroki let the door click shut behind them.

And then, they were silent.

Todoroki didn’t seem to really have any plan to all of this, besides just dragging him away from the prying eyes of their classmates. Bakugou could see the flurry of emotions in his eyes and could imagine all the questions he might have, but didn’t know how to ask. Maybe it’d be better if Bakugou started the conversation, but it wasn’t like he had any fucking clue of how to do that.

Instead, he just gently pulled his hand out of Todoroki’s grip, walked over to his bed to sit down, and gestured to Todoroki to do the same.

Once they were both settled on the edge of the bed, Bakugou stretched outward a bit and tilted his head so he could get a clear look at Todoroki. Now they were alone, Todoroki looked far more skittish, his lips pressed together into a thin line and his fingers curled into the sheets beneath them. He looked as anxious as Bakugou felt, as evidenced by the way he opened and closed his mouth multiple times before finally speaking.

“Where’d you guys go?” he asked.

“Not far,” Bakugou responded, a little annoyed when Todoroki wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Ah.”

Silence again. Were their conversations always this stilted? Bakugou couldn't remember.

“Look, Todoroki, I—”

“What was that?”

Bakugou started at the interruption, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

“What was what?” he asked.

“Don’t play dumb.”

That hardly did anything to abate Bakugou’s confusion, but Todoroki only granted him a sharp scoff and quick glare. When Bakugou showed no sign of understanding him, though, his expression softened into something of a hesitant understanding and mild embarrassment.

“I mean, well…”

He swallowed, and Bakugou watched the motion of his Adam’s apple greedily. Wait, no. He was supposed to control himself now. He’d already fucked up—he wasn’t allowed to look for more. God, this was why he didn’t want to be around Todoroki for a while. Shitty Deku just had to intervene, didn’t he?

“That night, when it was just us before New Year’s. What… what was that?”

Even in the situation he was in, Bakugou couldn’t help but let out a snort at the question.

“Todoroki, are you tryna tell me you don’t know what a kiss is?”

Todoroki’s glare returned, though somehow, it was even less heated than the one before. It certainly didn’t help that a soft flush was starting to blossom on his face in indignance at the accusation.

“That’s not—I didn’t—” Todoroki cut himself off with a huff, and it almost looked like he was pouting. “I know what a kiss is, Bakugou. I just mean…why?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you kiss me that day?”

There were so many things Bakugou could have said. They’d all be excuses, but they’d be so easy to say since they were all on the tip of his tongue. He was just trying to rile Todoroki up and get a reaction out of him. He was just feeling horny and wanted to fool around but lost interest. He did it on a dare from the idiot gang that followed him around.

There were so many things he could say to get Todoroki off his back and realize there wasn’t, there couldn’t be anything between them. But, well, Bakugou himself was having trouble remembering why exactly that was, and fuck, he was so damn tired of running.

“I like you.”

Todoroki’s breath hitched, but Bakugou paid it no mind. No, he was too busy talking. He couldn’t quite explain it himself, but it was like with those few words, a dam within his mind had broken. Suddenly, all of his inner thoughts were spilling out all in one massive flood, and he was helpless to do anything but let it happen.

“You’re quiet as hell but you always know what to say. You’re so damn strong and you always put up the best fights, but you can be so vulnerable when you think no one’s looking. You don’t have a damn clue how to be a normal ass person, but you try anyway. And god, you’re so damn beautiful, it should be a damn crime.”

A strangled whine tore its way out of Todoroki’s throat from embarrassment, but Bakugou didn’t stop.

“So yeah, I like you, dumbass. And not in the shitty, ‘you’re a great friend,’ sorta way either. Not just in the ‘I like being around you,’ or whatever nonsense it was Deku was sprouting last month.”

“You knew—”

“’Course I fucking did. The fuck was he thinking, confessing like that in a place where anybody could walk by?” He paused. “God, you were an idiot though, huh? You didn’t understand a damn thing he was going on about, even when he poured his heart out. You thought he was just getting all sappy because he wanted to call you a good friend. Man, is there really anything up there in that big head of yours or not?”

“Is,is this a confession or just an excuse to insult me?”

“Who said it can’t be both, dumbass?”

Taking the chance, Bakugou leaned in close to Todoroki, pressing a hand on his thigh and another right beside his hand on the bed. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and he could feel the other’s uneven breath on his face.

“After all, it’s because of I saw that trainwreck, that I knew I had to be more straightforward when I confessed.”

“So you just k-kissed me and ran,” Todoroki deadpanned, though a crack in his voice betrayed his monotone.

“You deserve someone better,” Bakugou said instead. “Someone who’s friendly, who’s all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. Someone who can talk to people normally and doesn’t act like such an angry dick all the time. Someone who’s not fucking terrible at talking about all this feelings bullshit, who doesn’t run like a damn coward. Someone who’s not an asshole.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Todoroki murmured, continuing before Bakugou could disagree. “I mean, you’re crass, and overly competitive, and you don’t play well with others, and you’re really violent, and—"

“Now who’s insulting who?” Bakugou drawled, and Todoroki grinned weakly.

“—and you’re impatient as hell, but that doesn’t mean you’re an asshole. You don’t like to show it, but you’re a lot nicer inside.”

Todoroki’s voice went softer.

“You’ve mellowed out a lot over the past year. You watch out for the people around you, even if you don’t like to call them friends. You took care of me plenty of times, and you went out of your way to do so even if you didn’t have a real reason to. You work hard at practically everything you do and you care for people, but you also never hesitate to tell someone when you think they’re messing up. I… I don’t think those are asshole traits, Bakugou.”

“Tch.”

He had nothing to say, not after that little spiel. God, why did he suck so bad with words, when Todoroki could have him here squirming with just a few compliments?

“Maybe you’re just imagining it,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” Todoroki agreed lightly. “But maybe I’m not.”

“You still deserve someone better,” Bakugou continued, vehemently. “Someone…someone like Deku.”

He could feel more than see Todoroki tense at that, the thigh beneath his hand going completely stiff.  Instantly, he felt like he might have overstepped his boundaries, but he didn’t get a chance to half-ass an apology before Todoroki was speaking up again.

“Midoriya, he—he confessed to me.”

“I told you, I already know. I was there, dumbass.”

“No, I mean,” Todoroki paused. “He actually confessed. Like, again.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, oh.

“When?” Bakugou was practically whispering, not wanting to know but needing to at the same time.

“Christmas Day,” was the immediate response, and it had Bakugou’s heart sinking.

I don’t think I’m a good friend.

“We hung out the whole day, and afterwards we went to the beach and he… he told me. He told me that he’d already tried, that one time, but I… misunderstood him. He asked me to not to respond to him then though. He wanted me to wait until break was over, so I could really think on it, and I… I gave him my answer today.”

Midoriya, can we talk?

The sharp pain in Bakugou’s chest really shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. He expected this, but it somehow didn’t dull the pain anyway.

“You’ll be happy with him.” Todoroki’s eyes flickered to his. “He’s a dumbass sometimes, but his heart’s in the right place. He’ll always treat you right and you won’t ever have to worry about hi—”

“Bakugou!”

Todoroki looked absolutely affronted.

“I turned him down!”

What.

Bakugou’s eyes widened into saucers, as Deku’s words from earlier rang through his head.

I’ve known for a long time that he doesn’t care about me like that.

“I turned him down. I told him… I told him that I couldn’t ever reciprocate his feelings, because I had someone else I liked.”

He’s been staring at you!

You left him just like that, before New Year’s, and he’s been a wreck since.

Thank you, Bakugou.

“No fucking way.”

Todoroki snorted, actually snorted, at him.

“Funny, I had about the same reaction at first.”

“You—”

“Shut up,” Todoroki snapped, averting his gaze. “Don’t make me say it.”

That pretty flush was back onto his face, flashing a beautiful bright red. The very sight of it had Bakugou’s heart skipping a beat. All he wanted was to bring his hands up to cup at his cheeks and feel how hot they were with the rush of blood, though he knew his own face was probably just as warm.

“Don’t,” Bakugou croaked, hating how weak his voice sounded, “leave me hanging like that, Half-n-Half.”

“But I—”

“I need to hear it.”

“I can’t—”

“Please.”

His voice cracked on the single plea in desperation. There wasn’t a single other thing he wanted, or needed to hear right now. All he needed were those few words, that one sentence to validate everything that he’d been feeling the past few weeks. He needed to hear that he wasn’t a complete lost cause, that amidst the storm of darkness that had plagued his mind, he had a chance.

“I…”

Bakugou squeezed Todoroki’s thigh reassuringly, bringing their faces just a little bit closer.

“I like you too.”

Bakugou could cry.

“S…since when?”

“I, I’m not sure. For a while, I think? Maybe, maybe since last year? When…when we did the remedial courses together. I guess that’s when it started. I didn’t realize it, though! I mean, not back then, not until we, uh, we kissed…”

Scratch that, he probably was going to cry if he didn’t get a damn handle on himself. To think that, while Bakugou was out there making a fool of himself and still getting a grasp on his own emotions and insecurities, Todoroki was out there still seeing the good in him. Even back then, he had faith in him and cared for him, even if neither of them realized it back then.

Bakugou thought of their time interning at Endeavor’s agency, of their exchanged battle tactics and class notes, of their budding friendship that Bakugou had so vehemently denied, and fuck—he was definitely going to cry at this rate.

Todoroki didn’t look all that much better either, a familiar glassiness starting to shine across his dual-colored eyes as he licked his trembling lips. His lips, which were so close to Bakugou’s, so close that it’d just take a single push to connect them—

“Wait!”

Startled, Bakugou’s eyes opened comically wide when a hand was suddenly slapping over his mouth and pushing his face away. He narrowed them into a glower when he took a look at Todoroki, though. In addition to pushing Bakugou’s face back, Todoroki had taken to leaning away, his free hand behind him on the bed to steady himself. His eyes were blown out wide, the redness on his face deeper. Flustered, he bit his bottom lip pensively, and Bakugou followed the action with dark eyes and a low growl.

“What?!” he practically snapped when the hand fell from his face.

“You still ran,” Todoroki said simply, and Bakugou openly groaned at that.

“C’mon halfie, what do you want from me? To apologize? Because I’m sorry, I really am. I was being a dumbass. I got too much into my own head, I thought… I thought my own feelings couldn’t possibly be mutual, that I was taking something that couldn’t ever be mine.”

“I’m not a thing,” Todoroki mumbled, and Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.” He brought a hand up to stroke at his cheek fondly, thumbing over the rough flesh of his scar. “I, I was so angry at myself, because I thought I’d fucked up any chance I could have ever had. It was shitty to run afterwards, and it was shitty to avoid you too, instead of just talking about it. But I was weak and an idiot who just wanted from it all, without thinking about how it would affect you. I… I’m so, so sorry.”

Todoroki pursed his lips, the very lips Bakugou wanted to kiss so very much right now, as he furrowed his eyebrows in thought. The moment of silence between them was stifling. They sat there face-to-face, Todoroki looking all pensive while Bakugou felt the butterflies in stomach fluttering so damn much it felt like they were trying to break free.

“My birthday’s coming up.”

Bakugou knew. He knew very well, seeing as he’d spent probably ages staring at that date on the calendar for no specific reason. January 11^th. Next Sunday.

“You’re gonna take me out,” Todoroki said, leaving no room for argument. “Properly, on a date, and we’re gonna have a good time. You’re… you’re gonna make it up to me and prove I’m not making a mistake.”

Bakugou cracked a grin.

“Hate to break it to you, Candy Cane, but you’re definitely making a mistake.” Leaning in, he let his lips linger over Todoroki’s right cheek. “But I’ll try to make it the best damn mistake of your life.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Todoroki response was just a whisper as he pulled back just a fraction to look at him. They were so close their breaths intertwined, but Bakugou was focused solely on the determined eyes of the man before him.

“One more thing,” Todoroki said, a little louder this time. “You have to stop antagonizing Midoriya all the time. I know you guys have a… complicated history, but he is my best friend, y’know? And I know you guys are friends, even if you like to deny it.”

God, Bakugou would sing shitty Deku’s praises to the world if it meant he could lean in right then and there for a kiss.

“I’ll try my best.”

That, apparently, was more than enough for Todoroki, and their lips collided in a messy tangle of teeth and tongues. Hands gripped at Bakugou’s arm and cheek tightly, keeping him in place and holding tight so he couldn’t ever leave. Bakugou reciprocated the motion, entrapping Todoroki in his arms as though the second he let go, the boy in front of him would disappear entirely.

They kissed with all the urgency and skill of dumb, pining teenagers which, to be fair, was exactly what they were.

And honestly? Bakugou wouldn’t have it any other way.