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Something Todoroki always hated about zombie movies or Tv shows was the romance, the unnecessary sex and love issues. It was the apocalypse they didn’t have the time for falling deeply in love and fucking into the sunset. And although the fucking part was true, he was beginning to rethink the previous point.
It was getting dark by the time the three of them had finally settled in the dreary apartment. Midoriya was already asleep on the sofa, a lump of sleeping bag moving rhythmically as he breathed. Todoroki couldn’t blame him, it had been a rough day, especially for the smaller boy and Todoroki could only hope his ankle was as okay as he made it out to be.
The apartment was cold, heating long gone and electricity a myth so he set about starting a small controlled fire on the floor. Bakugou had found slabs of concrete on another floor of the apartment complex and had laid them in the middle of the room. Using scraps of cloth and kindling Todoroki started a small fire before adding more wood, leaving it to burn.
Bakugou was sitting on the windowsill staring down into the city, scowl etched into his features. The moon had risen in the sky and washed him in pale light, his hair shone white and his eyes blazed like the fire behind him making him look nothing short of ethereal. His thumb ran over the scarred skin that adorned his face. Shirts and jackets thrown off, Todoroki had full view of the paler tissue that worked its way up the blonde, starting under his vest, on his back, twisting up his shoulder and neck and ending up his jaw as high as his ear. The final licks of scar tissue resembled the shape of comic explosions, pointed and sharp where a blast wave had ripped through skin and burned through flesh. The scene would’ve been beautiful, maybe even calming except for the inhuman groans and growls from down below in the city and the waves of tension that rolled off Bakugou as he looked upon the walking dead.
They were several stories high and they had swept their apartment floor more times than one, all doors had been checked and barricaded appropriately and they were only sticking to one apartment. It was safer that way, far away from the ground but not too close to the roof, one floor, one room, one door, they were all together. The kitchen was joined to the living room and they would’ve used the bedroom if it hadn’t been completely bloodied and destroyed by whatever old story it once held, so they stuck to the living room. With Midoriya’s now injured ankle they didn’t know how long they’d have to stay; they didn’t like sticking around for too long, but this was secure for now.
Slowly, not to startle the blonde Todoroki sat beside him on the windowsill. The cold air biting as it made its way through the old glass but Bakugou was close enough to share some warmth.
“Are you okay?” he asked slowly.
Bakugou chuckled, “How many times do I have to tell you how stupid that question is Half’n’Half?” His voice was hollow and although his natural sarcasm was familiar it didn’t hold its usual humour as Bakugou rested his head on his knees, thumb still moving over his scar as if he were trying to wipe it away.
“Okay, well, how are you considering our current circumstances?” he tried again.
“Just peachy.”
An uncomfortable, unresolved silence hung over them, the crackle of fire and Midoriya’s breathing the only sound in the small room. Todoroki looked over the city, mind mapping where everything was, the store they planned on raiding a few blocks away, the routes they planned on taking to get to different supplies they’d seen as they traveled, things Midoriya normally wrote down in his extensive notebooks when he was awake. He was pulled from his thoughts as something tugged on his ponytail. Bakugou had reached over and started playing with his hair, slowly plaiting it into a low braid. Todoroki turned away to allow the blonde better access as he fiddled.
“Your hair is stupid.”
“So you keep telling me,” Todoroki sighed, mainly in relief that Bakugou was talking.
“Stupid candy cane colours.”
“Can’t help genetics.”
Bakugou only hummed his response as he worked. The silence was more comfortable now and Todoroki picked idly at the dirt in his nails as he listened to the other two men in the room breathe.
“I’m fucking scared Shouto,” Bakugou’s breath hitched as he spoke, Todoroki hummed, worried Bakugou would stop if he said much more.
“I’m fucking scared someone’s gonna get hurt, stupid Deku got hurt today and if you hadn’t been there it could’ve been fatal and all I did was stand and fucking watch as he almost got ripped away from me like a useless fucking idiot!” He wasn’t shouting but the strain in his voice was apparent and the shaking of Todoroki’s hair proved Bakugou’s stress.
Slowly Todoroki tried to turn to look at the blonde only to have his ponytail yanked the other way turning his head back with a small whine of pain.
“What matters is that he’s okay now, you can’t always be there, the same way I can’t always be there for you,” Todoroki began, “We all look after each other but we can also look after ourselves. Izuku is strong, he would’ve been fine with or without my help I just so happened to get there first.”
Bakugou gave an unconvinced huff and tied off the end of the braid with a broken hairband, slinging the hair over Todoroki’s shoulder. Todoroki heard the shuffling before he felt Bakugou’s face press into the center of his back between his shoulder blades. Two strong hands held onto his shoulders, one warm and calloused on the shoulder where his shirt had fallen.
“What if something does happen, what if I lose one of you, or fucking both of you. I can’t deal with it Shouto, the fear on his fucking face as he fell,” a hiccup and a whimper ripped from the man behind him and he felt two wet patches form on his shirt. “His fucking face Shouto, what if that was the last time I saw it, saw those stupid, beautiful green eyes full of fucking fear and hurt. I felt so useless!”
The words were painful to hear, Bakugou’s normal voice dripping with sarcasm or egotistic praise now thick with pain and wet with ugly sobs. Todoroki let him cry, his hands traveled under Todoroki’s shirt, massaging down his back and then moving over his stomach and chest, finally stilling above his heart grounding himself, reassuring himself that Todoroki was in fact alive.
“Katsuki, it’s okay,” Todoroki wasn’t gifted with words like Midoriya and the comfort felt foreign on his tongue, but he needed to comfort Bakugou if it was the last thing he did right now. The blonde was their pillar of strength, he kept them going forever strong, hearing him so broken was heartbreaking. Todoroki knew Bakugou would never act so vulnerable in front of Midoriya, so he needed to fix this himself. He lifted his hand under his shirt and placed it over Bakugou’s, interlocking their fingers.
“I’m here right now, aren’t I? I’m alive, right now, in your arms, on this windowsill with you. Izuku is right over there, sleeping peacefully in one of the most secure camps we’ve had in the past few months all because of your hard work. We’re right here, alive and kicking and that’s what matters.”
Slowly he turned in Bakugou’s arms, resting their foreheads together and bringing the blondes hand up to his own chest.
“And you’re here too, with us.”
They sat like that for a while together, listening to each other’s pulse, foreheads pressed together, and eyes closed as the cold breeze from the window stabbed at them.
When Todoroki opened his eyes Bakugou had stopped crying, but the tear tracks remained, the scared grimace once etched on his face had smoothed into something soft and calm as he hung onto Todoroki like a lifeline. And that was the truth of it. The three of them were a lifeline for each other, something to hold onto and cherish and never let go of. And as Todoroki sat there looking at the stupidly perfect face of Bakugou Katsuki and the sleeping bag lump of Midoriya Izuku he thought, how could he do anything but fall in love. Because the two of them had his heart. As the world was ending and the dead crowded the streets Todoroki had literally nothing else to give to the two men that occupied the room with him. So, they had his heart and in return he knew he had theirs after everything they’d been through.
“We should sleep,” he finally whispered into the silence.
Bakugou hummed quietly, eyes opening slowly revealing crimson fire full of determination and newfound passion. Slowly Bakugou shifted closer, face tilting as he pressed his lips into Todoroki’s. It wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor was it something sad and broken. It was a kiss full of passion, full of unspoken promises, of safety and love and care, of stability in a world so cruel and unforgiving. Todoroki was ablaze, as if he’d had ice thrown over him or gasoline lit on his skin. Tears pricked in his own eyes as plush lips moved against his own, tongue swiping across his bottom lip before pushing into his mouth. Bakugou’s hands moved to his waist, Todoroki’s moving into the blonde’s spiked hair, massaging his scalp, thumb brushing the scar on his left cheek, pulling him impossibly closer. They broke apart with a huff and went back to looking at each other. Heterochromatic eyes boring into fiery red ones.
“I love you,” Bakugou breathed. “Don’t ever fucking leave me.”
“I don’t plan on it; I love you too Katsuki.”
With that Todoroki pulled them both away from the windowsill, turning to rekindle the fire.
“Don’t you even fucking think about telling Deku about any of this,” Bakugou warned with no heat.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Todoroki whispered.
They both grabbed their own sleeping bags before moving towards the sofa.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Bakugou spoke first moving to sit on the floor.
“You slept on the floor last time, it’s fine, you sleep on the sofa.”
It was obvious the green mess of couch couldn’t hold three grown men, Midoriya already taking up most of it despite being the smallest of them, someone was going to have to sleep on the floor and neither man was backing down.
After quiet bickering ensued both of them ended up on the floor, sleeping bags tangled together and Bakugou’s strong arm over Todoroki’s chest pulling him close.