Work Text:
Bakugou Katsuki had the heart of a killer.
Shouto knew as much when he decided to follow the elusive gang boss a long time ago. Watching Bakugou hold a gun was like standing outside in a thunderstorm. He was always bringing about a whirlwind of dangerous circumstances. With every explosion left in his wake, the ashes of the damned littered the air around him like a twisted halo from hell.
Shouto found that he was already falling for the devil incarnate. Not once did he ever touch a gun in his life, but it was suddenly so easy to shoot someone for him. He never lied, not even little white lies, not until he had to make a quick cover story for Bakugou to escape. He never drank away his pain, never smoked his troubles into perfect rings, never slept past 10PM on a school night. But these were things that came easily whenever he was around Bakugou.
He didn’t think of him as a bad influence, no matter how many times his friends told him he was. He not once blamed Bakugou for the lives he took and the ones he ruined beyond repair. Shouto wasn’t there to judge him. That was never his role to begin with. In fact, his role was the pretty damsel in distress. But Bakugou showed him a way to break out of that mold, pick the lock of his cage, and fly.
Shouto likes to think he does the same for him.
He was ruthless. He was untouchable. He was a man feared across the world.
But he wasn’t a man. Not even close to that. He was a boy. A boy who had to grow up too fast. Just a few days ago, Bakugou turned 19 and Shouto took it upon himself to at least throw him a small party. By small, he meant just the two of them in their bedroom. No one else was invited, mainly because the second the rest of his subordinates saw Bakugou smile… He wasn’t prepared for the bloody aftermath of that.
Shouto glanced at the wall clock, counting down the exact last few seconds before he heard those familiar heavy footfalls approach their bedroom door. He held the little cupcake in his hands, lighting the candle that wasn’t quite poked down the center, and stood a few feet away from the door. His smile came so easily for him when Bakugou entered, even as he noticed the new scratches and bruises on his face.
“Belated Happy Birthday, boss.”
In that instant, Bakugou’s defenses melted away and he gave Shouto one of his rare smiles. Shouto’s own smile widened and he approached Bakugou with the cupcake as an offering. For a few seconds, Bakugou just stared at him, not at the cupcake, or the rapidly burning candle, but into his eyes like he’s trying to search for answers to questions he still hasn’t formed in his head.
“Feels like I’m 12 again,” Bakugou says while gently taking the cupcake from Shouto’s hands and blowing the candle out. Shouto watches him carefully, his fingers itching to hold Bakugou’s face and observe his injuries. Instead, he just takes the melted puddle of a candle off of the cupcake and takes off the paper lining. “You even treat me like I’m twelve,” Bakugou chuckles. “I can do it myself, you know.”
“I know,” Shouto replies, crumpling the paper lining into a small ball and throwing it in the nearby trash bin. “Open up, birthday boy.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes but obediently opens his mouth, allowing Shouto to feed him every bite of the cupcake with gentle care. Whatever tension that was left in Bakugou’s body dissipates at the miraculous sound of Shouto’s giggles. Oh what he would do just so that Shouto could always smile like that. After a few more bites, the cupcake was completely devoured and Shouto was patting the crumbs away.
“That tasted like shit,” Bakugou eventually says after swallowing the final traces of the birthday cupcake.
“I couldn’t exactly bake you a masterchef level birthday cake, your highness.” Shouto hands Bakugou a glass of water. “There aren’t any good bakeries within a two mile radius either.”
Even if Shouto was joking, Bakugou still let the guilt of having to keep the one ray of sunshine in his life hidden away. It stifles Bakugou more that he can’t even let Shouto go up to the rooftop in fear of someone watching him with a sniper gun aimed at the space between his eyes. What’s even worse is that Shouto just… accepts it. It makes it so difficult for Bakugou to hate himself when Shouto gives him nothing but an unprecedented, overwhelming amount of love.
“I’m sorry.”
Shouto looks at him, not a hint of confusion in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be, Katsuki.”
And there he goes again, knowing exactly what to say. Bakugou exhales through his nostrils, feeling his muscles give out almost entirely as he slumps against Shouto heavily. Shouto catches him, he always does, and he allows Shouto to lead him to the bed. Once they were sitting down, Bakugou shudders under the weight of the whole world on his shoulders and lets the tears he’s been holding back the whole day stream down his face.
When one knows Bakugou Katsuki long enough, it’s almost impossible to believe that he has other emotions besides pure rage.
But even the most feared gang boss in the country had moments like these, where he would wrap himself in the warmth of Shouto’s arms, and let out every emotion he’s repressed since childhood. And contrary to popular belief, Bakugou was a silent crier. Even on the nights of his most severe breakdowns, not a single noise of anguish falls from his lips.
It’s the practiced cry of a boy used to hiding his sadness from the people around him.
Shouto knew better. Shouto knew that, behind those crimson red eyes, there lived a small boy who longs to be freed from the shackles of his past. Shouto also knows that no matter how hard he tries, he won’t ever be able to free him from every nightmare that haunts Bakugou every waking moment. He knows that even if he tries his hardest to always smile around Bakugou, his smile will never reach his eyes.
The light within him died the second he was tangled up in the mess of the underground criminal syndicates.
But what Shouto doesn’t know is that every time that they’re together, Bakugou heals, ever so slowly. Each piece of his hardened killer’s heart remembers how to beat again whenever Shouto smiles. If the light within him is truly gone, he has one in Shouto. Shouto doesn’t force him to talk it all out, or give him unwarranted advice. Shouto lets him feel. Shouto lets him feel completely and utterly powerless.
And Shouto reminds him that feeling that way… is absolutely okay.
So he cries silently into Shouto’s chest, allowing Shouto to alleviate the burden on his shoulders, even for the briefest of moments. Because even those brief moments can feel like an eternity of bliss. Bakugou Katsuki has the heart of a killer. He murders to survive in this dog-eat-dog world.
But whenever he’s around Todoroki Shouto, he is fiercely reminded of the exact reason why he chooses to live.