Archive of Our Own

Bakugou is crouched on the floor packing up his gym bag when he’s attacked from behind.

“Hey, Bakugou.”

His whole body becomes taught with awareness. How could it not when the guy standing behind him is the entire reason for his sexual awakening, the source of endless fapping material, and the only wing spiker in the nation whose skill he has acknowledged. “What the fuck do you want halfie?”

“I was just wondering, um-” Todoroki trails off softly.

“Fucking out with it,” Bakugou zips his bag closed with an inordinent amount of menace, “I want to go home.”

“Right. I was hoping you might want to accompany me to the movies on Saturday.”

The gym goes quiet and Bakugou feels the immense pressure of his teammates eyes on them as they openly gawk. He scowls, unsure of what their attention means and even more unsure of Todoroki’s intentions. Standing, Bakugou shoulders his bag, “And why the hell would I waste a Saturday on you when I have finals next week, huh?”

Todoroki blinks at him, face blank as he says, “Because we’re friends,” as if it’s the most obvious answer.

Bakugou would be lying if he said he hadn’t pictured this exact scenario before, Todoroki looking stupidly gorgeous post practice, leaning in close with the same face he reserves for when he gets in a particularly good spike (though currently his face looks as blank and untelling as usual), and asking Bakugou to do something with him outside of practice... except his fantasy usually involves them making out in the volleyball club room after everyone has left and his dick getting touched but, hey, that’s teenage hormones at their finest.

However, this is Todoroki fucking Shouto - a nationally ranked spiker, the school heart throb, and the bane of Bakugou’s existence since his gay had caught up with him halfway through their second year. Long story short, Todoroki fucking Shouto is the most oblivious shithead he’s ever met, so there is no doubt in Bakugou’s mind that when Todoroki suggests they hangout together as friends after three years of stubborn rivalry, that’s exactly what he means.

His scowl deepens and his little gay heart beats faster, even as he reasons that allowing himself to drift deeper into his repeating daydream of being able to turn a straight boy gay is not a realistic outcome of their outing if he accepts Todoroki’s invitation. 

It’s inhumane how oblivious Todoroki is to his crush. He hasn’t exactly been subtle over the last few months as graduation approached. Exactly how many times was Bakugou supposed to stare at Todoroki’s dick flopping around in his sinfully short volleyball shorts, that showed off an ungodly amount of his thick thighs - thighs that he would kill to have his head crushed between - as he jumped to spike a ball before the guy looked over and realized, Oh, hey, Bakugou is staring at my dick . Maybe he wants to put it in his mouth and treat it like a jolly rancher?

“Bakugou?”

His eyes snap up from where they had drifted down to ogle the slight bulge of the very dick in question. From the corner of the gymnasium he can hear a few of his teammates snickering and he looks over his shoulder to narrow his eyes at them. “What the fuck are you extras laughing at, huh?”

They both duck their heads and mumble, “Sorry, captain.”

Slowly, he slides his eyes back to Todoroki which is a mistake because the part of him that wants to stick his tongue down the wing spiker’s throat is much more willful than the logical part of him that knows he’s setting himself up for disappointment. He grinds his response out between his teeth, “What time?”

“Huh?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes in a way that makes it seem like his whole head is moving with the motion. “What fucking time half n’ half?”

Todoroki grins...well, his version of grinning which is both corners of his mouth turning up and his eyes going wide like a kid in a candy store and fuck , Bakugou is filing that away in the spank bank like the degenerate he is. “Eleven, in front of the station.”

Bakugou summons all of his self-preservation in order to look as put out as possible. “Fine, but if the movie sucks I’m kicking your ass.”

Bakugou definitely does not care about what he’s wearing. He definitely did not spend forty-five minutes choosing an outfit. And he definitely did not jerk off twice in the shower to unrealistic fantasies of this friendly hang out, because it’s not a fucking date, resulting in Todoroki confessing his feelings and the two of them making out in an alleyway on their way home.

Jesus fucking christ, he kinda hates himself. 

He arrives at the train station early but is surprised to find Todoroki has, apparently, arrived even earlier. This strikes him as odd because, in the three years he’s known the bastard, he has not once arrived at morning practice on time - which made the fact that Todoroki’s game is absolutely flawless even more annoying. 

“Holy shit, look who’s here,” Bakugou calls out to him. 

Todoroki looks up from his phone and then Bakugou dies because when their eyes meet Todoroki kicks off the lamppost he’s leaning against and smirks lopsidedly, blue and gray eyes softening into an expression that is.... Fuck , Bakugou curses how gay he is because his wishful heart wants to call it adoring. “You’re early,” Todoroki responds without any particular inflection.

“Pft, I’m early?” Bakugou scoffs as he gets closer, holding out his fist for a casual greeting to which Todoroki’s smile drops a fraction. “Tch. Don’t look so upset it was a joke. Geez.” He frowns and takes his hand away to shove in the pockets of his pants. 

Just how the fuck did I manage to already upset the volleyball prince? The sting of disappointment rolls through him, it’s not a date , he reminds himself.... But that doesn’t mean he can’t try to, maybe, make himself seem like a viable dating candidate or just not be an asshole so that when he goes to college in the spring he can have at least one memory in which they did something outside of school.

“I’ve been better at being punctual.”

Rolling his eyes, “Since when?”

“Since last summer,” Todoroki says easily and, after a moment of thought, Bakugou has to admit that he’s right. Todoroki has made it a habit over the last couple months to wait for him at the corner where their school paths cross more often than not. Adding quietly, “You don’t like it when I’m late.”

All at once Bakugou feels his face flush and his stomach does this weird swooping thing he didn’t give it permission to do and... this day is already suffocating him. He has to look away when his brain hallucinates a faint pink dusting the tops of Todoroki’s cheekbones. “Whatever,” he coughs out and then changes the subject. “What time is this movie?”

Straightening up, “Oh, it’s not until five.”

“Five?” Bakugou scrunches his face. “Why did you tell me to meet you at eleven if the movie isn’t for another six damn hours?”

Todoroki glances away and swallows, “I thought we could get crepes in the park.” 

“Crepes,” Bakugou whispers with an appropriate amount of disbelief and his brain supplies, In the park. That’s pretty fucking gay.

“Or go to a cafe,” Todoroki adds quickly.

Bakugou’s heart is going to explode so to hide his fact he settles his mouth into a hard line and raises an eyebrow, “A cafe?” That’s really fucking gay.

He’s overcome with the urge to slap himself back into reality because Todoroki is not gay. He dated that one girl with the... hair? She probably, definitely had hair - for a bit last year. He had heard that they dated, anyway. Point being, he wasn’t exactly thrilled enough by that information to pay any attention to it outside of curling up on his bed for an entire weekend and blasting sad metal music loud enough for his mom to yell at him to get over his ‘teenage drama’ before he got tinnitus.

Todoroki’s uncharacteristic rambling steals him from his own thoughts. “We don’t have to do either of those. We could - could -”

It’s like watching a fish flopping around on a wooden dock and, with that image in mind, even Bakugou doesn’t understand why he thinks it’s cute. “Calm the fuck down,” Bakugou scratches the back of his head and Todoroki snaps his mouth closed, “Crepes sound good.”

“Really?” It’s a mystery how Todoroki’s eyes can go wide like a child asking for praise while his mouth remains as unexpressive as ever.

Bakugou looks away, lest his stomach do that weird swoopy shit again. “Yeah, I like crepes. It’s a nice day or whatever so being outside is...” He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. They stand there facing each other for what’s an unnatural amount of time before Bakugou can’t stand it anymore, “Well are we fucking going or what, Icyhot?”

The question appears to startle him but he recovers readily. “Yes, let’s go.”

Todoroki takes him to a cutesy pink crepe kiosk set under a canopy of trees and along a stone pathway of a large, scenic park. There are a few garden tables set up in close proximity that birds shuffle around as they peck up crumbs.

Bakugou stares hard at the menu, trying to concentrate on the words as opposed to the heat radiating off of Todoroki who is standing way too close to him to be natural. Seriously, just a second ago their shoulders bushed when Todoroki adjusted his weight to his right leg and they’re still kind of touching and it’s making Bakugou sweat. Bakugou is a sweaty guy to begin with, hormones and shit, he uses clinical deodorant so he’s keeping it in check but that’s beside the point which is that it’s not that warm out today and he can feel the sweat in his hairline falling down the side of his face. Fuck , he’s thirsty - literally and figuratively thirsty. His mouth is so dry he must be fucking dehydrated.

“Have you decided which one you want?” Todoroki asks, way too close to Bakugou’s ear. Close enough that he can feel his breath and smell his toothpaste, and in response he leans bodily away as he slaps a hand over the side of his neck like he’s been bitten by a mosquito. His face pinches with nervousness, not that he would ever admit to that, and then there’s the weird swooping stomach thing again !

Todoroki cocks his head curiously as if he’s unsure why Bakugou reacted how he did. 

Yet another thing Bakugou would never admit to is how much he loves this expression. The dumbstruck, doe-eyed, I don’t understand social interactions look. He’s seen it most on the court when other teams would try to goad Todoroki and throw him off his game - well, joke’s on them because Todoroki rarely understood that was their goal and was often just confused.

He wants to kiss it off his face... or kiss it permanently to his face like his kiss alone would be some sort of super glue for the expression since he imagines Todoroki would be nothing less than dazed and confused. Bakugou frowns and internally admonishes himself for his millionth fantasy today.

Turning back to the menu, he lowers his hand and shoves it in his pocket. “I don’t know. I can’t decide between the strawberries and cream or peaches and cream.” They’re the first two items on the menu and he can’t seem to read past them so he’s resigned himself to those being his only options.

“Mmm,” Todoroki supplies helpfully.

“I’ll get the peaches,” he mumbles as he decides getting the first thing listed feels like a cop out. 

“Okay,” Todoroki says resolutely then steps around Bakugou to the counter to order. “Hello. I would like one peach and one strawberry.”

“Hey!” Bakugou screeches. “I was going to-”

Ignoring him, Todoroki peers over his shoulder. “Did you want the drizzle?”

For some reason this question confuses him. “ What ?”

Todoroki’s eyebrows pull together, “It comes with a brown sugar drizzle on top?”

This situation has gone from sad pining to straight up bizarre. Bakugou has imagined a lot of scenarios involving Todoroki over the last year and a half but, for whatever reason, the reality of him ordering them crepes and asking Bakugou if he wants drizzle is more outlandish than anything he’s imagined. Strange as the situation may be, he does in fact want the drizzle, “Sure.” He says the word slowly enough that it sounds like a question.

“Yes, please put the drizzle on.” Todoroki seems to notice a tiny placard next to the window which he picks up. His eyes glance at Bakugou, “They have boba tea, would you like one?”

This is the twilight zone, an alternate reality where this friendly outing feels a lot like how he imagines a date feels. But also a cruel reality because when asked why he wanted to hang out, Todoroki had replied, because we’re friends. Bakugou swallows and hopes the flush on his cheeks is from the nonexistent spring heat and not traitorous hormones. He licks his lips, “I, uh... yes? ”

“Two vanilla bobas as well.”

Dumbfounded. Bakugou is dumbfounded and can only look on in horror as Todoroki pays as if he’s supposed to. Todoroki steps away from the counter and Bakugou blinks himself back to a mode that’s functioning. Doing his best to glare, “I could have ordered for myself.”

Todoroki shrugs, “You seemed confused by the ordering process, I thought I would alleviate your confusion by ordering for you.”

Bakugou’s jaw drops with offense, “Fuck you! I was not fucking confused .”

“Oh.” The word is monotone and then Todoroki continues casually, “Well, you like vanilla anyway. It’s the milk flavor you like to get from the vending machine after practice.”

Powering through with irritation, “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean it’s my favorite. It’s the only flavor the vending machines at our shitty school has.”

“Hmm, so vanilla is not your favorite.”

“No,” he replies a bit too quickly. “Why would I like such a boring flavor, pft.”

Nodding, “Interesting.” Todoroki says more to himself than Bakugou as if this information is actually worthwhile. A beat, “Then what is your favorite?”

Vanilla , Bakugou thinks bitterly. He clenches his teeth and turns away quickly. “Tch. It doesn’t fucking matter. The point is, I could have ordered and bought my own food,” he says even though that was, in fact, not the point but rather something he tacked on to steer the conversation away from his lie. When he chances a glance at Todoroki the bastard has the audacity to pull his mouth up in the corner by the tiniest fraction as if he knows Bakugou is lying and thinks it’s cute or some shit.

“My sister said that it’s most polite for me to pay since I’m the one that asked you to come out today.”

Asked you to come out?

Bakugou’s mind blanks only for his disloyal inner voice to whisper, Sound like: asked you out...

Like a date.

Bakugou sweats. Fuck. Maybe this is-

A bell sounds off and Todoroki’s head snaps to the kiosk where the attendant waves him over. “That was fast.”

They step up to the counter to grab their food and Bakugou follows him to a small table with two seats in the shade. He sits down and Todoroki moves the other seat so he’s sitting on Bakugou’s right as opposed to across from him. Under the table, their knees knock together and Bakugou swears he is one janky heart palpitation away from a heart attack.

“Are you okay?”

“What!” Bakugou squawks, having been startled from his inner crisis.

Todoroki tilts his head, “You seem...” he trails off. “Agitated.”

“I am not agitated!” Todoroki’s face pulls into an expression that says, You just proved my point, and Bakugou falters. He swallows, “I’m not. It’s just...”

“Just what?”

There’s a loud voice in his head screaming, Ask him if this is a date! And a quieter, yet more powerful one whispering, You know it’s not. “We’ve just,” Bakugou sighs, “Never hung out before.”

“Sure we have.”

“Tch,” Baugou fingers the plastic lid of his tea, “Not outside of school, just the two of us.”

Todoroki hums, then uses the provided utensils to cut away the bottom fourth of his crepe. “I didn’t think you wanted to.” Bakugou isn’t sure what to say in response to that but it’s not like he has time for a response anyway because Todoroki shovels the separated part of his crepe onto Bakugou’s plate. Some of the filling slides out and Todoroki sighs, “Sorry, I messed it up.”

Bakugou blinks vapidly at his plate. Bewildered. Confounded. Dumbstruck. His voice is even, lacking his usual heat and aggression because his brain has been knocked on its ass trying to keep up with the day’s events and it’s only noon , “What are you doing?”

“Sharing?” Todoroki tilts his head. 

“Why?” Bakugou’s heart is soaring and breaking all at once because, wow , he feels like the star of a romcom.

“Because this is the other flavor you wanted to try.” Todoroki says it like this should be unquestionably apparent to Bakugou.

Biting his inner lip, Bakugou frowns because it’s not fair how stupid Todoroki is and how innocent his actions are. He’s reached a fork in the road where he’s going to have to decide whether or not to go home and pout in the living room until his mom takes pity on him and makes his favorite food for dinner which he’ll eat three servings of while watching that daytime drama his dad likes that he definitely doesn’t like; or give in, accept the inevitable heartbreak when the night ends, and lose himself in this waking dream.

He casts his eyes down to his plate and angrily cuts a section of his crepe off to put on Todoroki’s plate. 

Their knees knock together once more and he quickly cuts off a piece of the strawberry crepe and pops it in his mouth. He leans back in his seat, plasters on a smug grin when Todoroki looks at him and says, “I have good taste in crepes.”

Todoroki takes a bite of the peach, chews it thoughtfully before swallowing and taking a sip of his boba, “Debatable.”

They’re in an arcade; complete with the neon lights of the various machines, blacklight paint on the walls, the sound of tokens falling out of the exchange machine and the distinct smell of teenage body odor. Todoroki, for lack of a better word, looks overwhelmed.

Bakugou leans in, “You okay?”

His question seems to knock the life back into Todoroki, “Yes.” 

“Yeah?” Bakugou parrots back. “Then why do you look so fucking confused?”

“I’ve never been to an arcade,” he responds whimsically and Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“Seriously? Never, like ever? ”

“Ever,” Todoroki affirms. 

Scoffing, “Then why did you drag me here?”

Todoroki rubs the back of his neck and fixes his gaze to a spot on the floor, “My brother said it would be fun.” He looks up and meets Bakugou’s eyes with a cautionary gaze, “Do you... not like arcades?” 

Bakugou bites the inside of his lip because the look on Todoroki’s face is a strange mix of hopeful and uncertain. He swallows, “I do.” There’s a smile tugging at the corner of Todoroki’s mouth that is in direct conflict with the apprehension in his eyes when he looks back over the crowded floor. “Uh,” Bakugou starts dumbly. “Do you not like the arcade?”

With a sigh, Todoroki drops his hand away, “It’s much louder than I anticipated.”

“Yeah,” Bakugou crosses his arms over his chest. “And since it’s the middle of the afternoon, it’s full of screaming kids who are going to be taking up all the good machines and sucking at them.” He sighs with a bit of feigned irritation, “Fucking brats. Let’s do something else.”

There’s something in his gut that tells him that Todoroki would stay at the arcade despite his obvious, at least to Bakugou, disinterest in it and that feeling makes him feel those cliche as fuck butterflies swarm all over his insides. Except his butterflies also have wings that are edged with the sharp reminder that being nice to somebody you consider a friend does not have a deeper meaning. Being nice is the literal bare minimum of any relationship.

He turns away from the arcade before Todoroki can inevitably argue with him and starts shouldering his way through the dense sea of people. Bodies close in around him and there’s suddenly a hand gripping his wrist. Despite the endless flow of traffic around him, Bakugou stops and turns just in time to see Todoroki push past the last few people separating them. 

Warmth radiates out from where Todoroki’s hand is clasped around his wrist. It burns hot at the point of contact but Bakugou can’t look away from those slim fingers, still unfathomably soft against his skin despite how much time they spend forcefully smacking a ball into the ground. He swallows as the miniature versions of himself that he imagines working behind the scenes all collectively start screaming, which leaves the only thought in his mind, holy fuck, he’s touching me. Todoroki Shouto is touching me!

“Slow down,” Todoroki’s voice breaks through the volume of his internal freak out.

As his faculties of logic start up, the part of himself concerned with self preservation urges him to pull his wrist away before he can start to think of this as more than it is. But then that instinct is overtaken by a strange mix of anger, bravery, and hormones that screams but maybe it is more! What he does in response to that thought shocks even himself because he doesn’t remember consciously deciding to do it. 

Bakugou slides his hand into Todoroki’s palm and threads their fingers together. His eyes snap up and find that Todoroki’s gaze is fixed intently on their hands. Mumbling, “I’m not slowing down, so keep up.”

Inside, every learned self preservation instinct is screaming at him, what are you doing! What are you doing you dumb fuck!

And yet the very, very small part of him that isn’t a ball of horniness - the one that actually keeps him up thinking about how Todoroki carries cat treats in his gym bag to feed the strays on the way home, wondering if Todoroki’s hair is as soft as it looks or if all that hair dye has left it damaged, hoping that maybe Todoroki stays up thinking about him - is whispering, but he hasn’t pulled his hand away. In fact - Todoroki squeezes Bakugou’s hand and he’s so overcome by elation that, if he were a different person, he might shed a goddamn tear.

Bakugou drags them through the mall with no particular destination in mind. Truthfully, he kinda wants to keep walking because he’s not sure he’s ever going to have an opportunity to hold hands with Todoroki Shouto again. 

They reach the far end of the mall and Todoroki tugs on his hand, “Hey.” Bakugou looks over his shoulder and sees Todoroki nod to the sporting goods store. “Let’s go in there.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bakugou agrees and then lets Todoroki lead them towards the store. 

When they emerge from the crowd, Todoroki drops his hand, which he guesses makes sense. They’d been holding hands so as to not get separated , not to... be close or anything like that. He flexes his fingers, shoves both hands into his pockets, and tries not to look disappointed. And even if he was feeling disappointed that feeling is quickly replaced with mortification when he glances at Todoroki, who frowns at the hand Bakugou had just been holding and then vigorously wipes it against his jeans. 

Red hot embarrassment sweeps over Bakugou, flushing his face undoubtedly red which must startle Todoroki, because when he looks up at Bakugou his eyes widen with abject horror. “What’s wrong?” Todoroki asks all innocent and dumb, as if he hasn’t just made Bakugou want to melt into the floor because of his genetically sweaty hands, thanks Mom . His dads hands are always dry, so much so that he has to constantly carry around lotion and GOD this is a stupid thing to suddenly wish to have!

Still, he can’t really blame Todoroki. Sweat is kinda gross, especially sandwiched between two hands. “Your hand -” he starts with a tight voice, though he has no idea how the rest of that sentence goes.

“Oh,” Todoroki blinks then looks at his palm and rhythmically flexes his fingers. “Sorry, was it sweaty?”

This strikes Bakugou dumb, “What? No - my hand -”

Todoroki tilts his head, “Your hand?”

“Yeah,” he licks his upper lip, unsure why he’s about to own up to having sweaty hands. “My hands sweat a lot. I thought it grossed you out since you, uh-” Bakugou wishes the earth would swallow him whole. 

He watches as dread pulls over Todoroki’s features as his eyes jump between his own hand, his pants, Bakugou’s hand, and his face. “I-” he starts, rushed and panicked. “I wasn’t - it’s me. My hand is sweaty and grossed you out.”

“No it didn’t!” 

“But it’s sweaty and you said that was gross.” Eyes widening, “Should we not have -”

“Stop saying your hand is sweaty! My hand is sweaty, see!” He reaches out and grabs Todoroki’s other hand which is decidedly - “Your fucking hand isn’t sweaty at all! Nothing is wrong with it!”

“My right hand is never sweaty because that side of my body is cold, but my left is always hot so it is!”

Bakugou draws his eyebrows together, “That’s not a thing!”

“Yes it is,” Todoroki huffs then put his other hand to Bakugou’s cheek and - fuck. He could die right now with Todoroki’s sweaty hand on his cheek and be a happy man. “It’s sweaty, right?”

It takes a moment but then Bakugou nods and swallows around his response, “Yeah.”

Todoroki sighs and pulls his hand away, “Sorry, if holding a sweaty hand is supposed to be gross having one on your face is probably worse.”

Bakugou’s grip tightens on Todoroki’s hand. “Your hand isn’t gross.”

The corner of Todoroki’s mouth turns up into the softest smile. “Really?”

He can’t bring himself to look up any further. “Yeah. I would... do it again, or whatever.”

Todoroki huffs out a tiny laugh then says, “Your hand isn’t gross either.”

They wander the aisles of the sports store picking up laces and browsing various magazines containing volleyball news. It’s strange to see themselves in the latest issue, showing them and their team in a large huddle following their win at nationals. 

Todoroki startles Bakugou when he speaks over his shoulder, “Oh, I like that photo.” 

“Jesus,” he casts his gaze to the side and Todoroki’s face is, like, right there. Close enough that he can still smell the tea and strawberries that linger on his breath. Is it weird that he thinks the smell of his breath is kinda hot? It’s kind of fucking weird, but he has no chill when it comes to Todoroki. Mumbling, “Don’t just sneak up on people, dumbass.” His eyes drift back to the page, “Yeah, it’s a good picture of the team.”

“No, not that one.” Todoroki reaches around, inadvertently crowding Bakugou up against the magazine rack, and points to a smaller photo in the bottom right hand corner. “This one.”

His mouth runs dry, “Oh.” It’s a photo of the two of them high fiving after the final point in the second set. Bakugou wears a sharp grin as sweat drips from his brow and Todoroki...well he looks fucking perfect, which is no surprise, with his gorgeous eyes sparkling with intensity and lips quirked up in what is his version of a full smile. 

Todoroki hums, “I cut it out and tacked it up in my room.”

Bakugou’s mind does somersaults to try and keep up. Todoroki Shouto has a picture of you in his room, his brain supplies helpfully. Then, less helpfully and more idiotically, “Where?”

With a shrug, “Next to my bed.”

Todoroki responds so easily that Bakugou is so fucking sure he heard him wrong. There’s no way. No fucking way. Even so, he can’t stop himself from imagining Todoroki laying in bed and looking at the photo of them before he closes his eyes. How Bakugou’s face might be the last thing he sees before he falls asleep and oh, god there’s that weird swooping shit again.

“Is this the issue with college recruitment profiles?” Todoroki continues as if he hasn’t made Bakugou’s little gay heart go pitter-patter in his chest.

Bakugou gets a hold of himself though sheer force of will and clears his throat. “Yeah, they’re in the back.” He flips to the section and stops at the first profile page he sees, it’s of Inasa from a school in a different prefecture. He scans the stats and stops at his college choice, “You guys are going to play on the same team next year.”

Todoroki’s brow scrunches. “No we’re not.”

Frowning, “I thought you were going to Osaka?” Bakugou is sure Todoroki is going to Osaka because he’d spent a whole day thinking about it when he overheard the club advisor talking to their coach about where the third years were going.

“Osaka was a possibility, but I’m going to Tokyo.”

Bakugou pauses as all synapses fire at the same time, coming to the Earth shattering conclusion that: We’re both going to be playing volleyball in Tokyo . “We’re both going to be playing volleyball in Tokyo,” he barely breathes.

Todoroki glances towards him, and something Bakugou has only let himself dream of flashes through his eyes. “Yeah. We are.” He steps away from him, “It’s almost time for the movie, we should go.”

Quickly, Bakugou stuffs the magazine back onto the rack and turns to follow Todoroki saying, “Hey, don’t walk in front of me fucker!”

That same fucker glances over his shoulder, only pausing long enough to grab Bakugou’s hand and pull them into the crowd.

Todoroki chooses seats in the back then promptly leaves to go get snacks and Bakugou lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “ Holy shit ,” he breathes, then fumbles trying to get his phone out of his pocket. He opens his chat logs and goes to the last person he texted.

| dude I think I’m on a date with Todoroki and I’m about to lose my shit!

Kirishima, bless his heart, responds immediately.

| bro. That’s awesome!!!!!! 

Bakugou jams his thumbs into his screen furiously.

| it is not awesome you piece of shit! 

| what part of “I’m about to lose my shit” are you not getting? 

| turn on your second brain cell!

| first off - ouch. 

| second - I don’t see why you’re freaking out.

| haven't you had a thing for him for like... ever?

| that’s not the point! He hasn’t said it’s a date but - fuck!

| dude, I won’t know if you don’t tell me

Bakugou grips his phone so tightly that the screen colors begin to distort under the pressure, then types out the single stupidest thing he’s ever had to type.

| some gay shit is happening or whatever.

| some gay shit?

| like... hand stuff

| woah. Bro, tmi

| I mean congrats but like, I don’t need details

Bowing his head, Bakugou aggressively taps his phone screen against his forehead.

| not like that you fucking pervert!

| then like... oh, did you guys hold hands

| that’s manly as hell

Bakugou is turning red in his seat.

| stfu

| so you didn’t?

| ...we did.

| but it’s because the mall is crowded af and he’s slow as a goddamn snail when he doesn’t have to chase after a fucking volleyball

| you’re at the mall?

| yeah, so?

| that’s like date central dude

| since when!

| uh, since like forever

| seriously, what other options do high schoolers have???

| the park?

Mildly offended:

| there’s nothing wrong with the park dipshit!

| ...

| omg

| did you guys go to the park!?

| what is there to even do at the park? Feed ducks and stare at a pond?

Bakugou types his reply before he’s had time to consider it and then immediately flushes hot as he reads it over.

| fuck you we shared crepes!

| woah. That’s like - the gayest shit I’ve ever heard. Like, gay gay , not stupid gay.

| fuck you. It is not!

| uh, yeah, it is. We’ve been friends how many years??? and not once has eating crepes in the park underneath a canopy of trees been something I wanted to do with you.

It's as he feared, his assessment of the crepe situation had been right - it is really fucking gay. Still -

| i didn’t say jack shit about a canopy of trees you dick

| you can’t hide from me man. I know there was a canopy of trees

| seriously bro.

| the only thing that would make all this even gayer is if you guys got boba tea 

Bakugou stares at his phone a long time as he chews his inner lip. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Kirishima hits him with another text.

| fuck. You guys totally got boba

| did he pay too?

This idiot really doesn’t get it. Just because it looks like a date and sounds like a date and feels like a date doesn’t mean it’s a date if Todoroki hasn’t let him know it’s a date.

| it doesn’t matter who paid if he hasn’t said it’s a date

| idk, sounds like a date man

| but if you really don’t know I think you’re just going to have to ask him

And that’s exactly what Bakugou didn’t want to hear because if he gets his hopes up and asks if it’s a date and it’s not ... he’s not sure his ego could take it. Fuck, he’s not sure if knowing the long time crush he’s had on Todoroki is pointless won’t do just that - crush him.

“Hey, I got a large soda to share,” Todoroki’s voice startles him, and he nearly drops his phone. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he squeezes past Bakugou and takes a seat to his right.

“Whatever,” Bakugou sinks into his chair. Regardless of whether or not he’s going to ask Todoroki, he’s definitely not going to do it before they’re about to be stuck sitting next to each other for a two hour movie. 

“Sour patch?” Todoroki offers.

Bakugou looks at the candy then back up to Todoroki’s expectant face.

“Izuku says they’re your favorite.”

He can hear his own heart beating in his ears. He offers his hand, palm up, and Todoroki shakes nearly the whole bag into his waiting hand. “Yeah, they are,” he mumbles then pops one in his mouth.

By the time the movie starts there are only a few other people in the theater and Bakugou realizes he has no idea what this movie is about. “What are we even watching?” He whispers leaning over so that he can be heard.

Todoroki shrugs. “I’m not sure. My oldest brother said to choose a movie that’s been out a long time so there wouldn’t be too many people so that’s what I did.”

He remembers Mina once telling him that’s what people do when they want to makeout and he has to stop himself from bolting upright and running away due to internal teenage panic.

If that wasn’t bad enough Todoroki perks up, “Oh.” He turns and looks at Bakugou as if he’s just remembered something important and asks a little dumbly, “Are you cold?”

Bakugou isn’t sure what to say because the question isn’t quite processing, so for a moment his mouth kind of wobbles before he’s finally able to manage a response, “ No ?”

“Oh,” Todoroki’s face falls and he turns back to the movie. “Okay.”

Bakugou spends the next hour replaying that fifteen second interaction in his mind because, like, what would've happened if I said yes?  

As if he’s been counting the minutes, Todoroki turns back to him half way through the movie and asks, “What about now?”

His question makes Bakugou’s train of thought come to a screeching halt. “What?” He says the word a little too loudly and somebody down in front sighs.

“Are you cold now?” Todoroki takes a sip from the soda that Bakugou hasn’t touched because there is only one straw and he might not have ever read a shoujo or bl manga, but he is familiar with the idea of an indirect kiss and he is not about let his heart go get all ‘ doki doki’ because of some bullshit like that. The hand holding alone had made him nearly have a spontaneous stroke through pure happiness and sharing a drink just seems like a one way ticket to a premature death.

All that being said, his face turns red as he replies, “Yeah, I guess,” even though he’s not cold and generally runs a little hot.

Todoroki’s mouth pulls up on both sides and his eyes widen like a kid in a candy store before he lifts the armrest between them and scoots close enough that they’re pressed up right next to each other. After a moment, Todoroki stretches with blatant purposefulness and settles his arm along the back of Bakugou’s seat. “Is this okay?” He whispers in Bakugou’s ear and it takes everything in him to not melt into a puddle.

Bakugou only trusts himself to nod once and then Todoroki is settling in, arm dropping from the edge of the seat to Bakugou’s shoulders. 

Stupidly, “I made sure to sit so you were on my warm side.”

He’s so confused and happy he could cry but instead he frowns and grumpily settles further into Todoroki’s side because if this is a date, and he totally plans on asking because if it’s not somebody has to explain to Todoroki what an outing with a friend actually looks like, he has already wasted the day not taking advantage of it to the fullest extent. “That’s not a thing,” he mumbles and spends the rest of the movie unaware of anything but the heat next to him.

They leave the movie theater and find the mall much less busy. There’s an awkward moment where he waits to see if Todoroki is going to take his hand but he doesn’t and Bakugou starts to think maybe the hand holding really had been because of the crowd. It’s not like they held hands in the movie. Todoroki’s arm had stayed around his shoulders through the whole second half of the movie, but if Bakugou knows anything after being on the same team as him for three years it’s that Todoroki is dumb as a box of rocks.

Todoroki rambles on about the movie, which he apparently really enjoyed because it was about cats, but Bakugou really only remembers being mildly disturbed by the graphics. That and how it felt to relax against the hard muscle of Todoroki’s torso. If nothing else, today has provided him with a plethora of images to deposit into the spank bank.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s ninety percent sure it’s Kirishima testing to ask him how it went and that only reminds Bakugou that he has to actually, physically, voice the question that’s been plaguing him the last three-ish hours. But then, like, he has to say it?  

But then, like, he has to risk humiliation and rejection?

He wants to hit his head against a brick wall, he hates this so much.

It’s when they reach their shared neighborhood, where the streets are quiet and devoid of people, that Todoroki pauses and turns to face Bakugou. “Can I-” Todoroki’s cheeks blush a light pink and for some reason that makes Bakugou blush even harder than him, always the competitor. Letting out a breath, Todoroki continues, “Can I hold your hand again?”

Bakugou literally slaps a hand over his face and turns his head to the ground because he can’t look at Todoroki’s stupidly pretty face and eyes and mouth and everything else that doesn’t even make sense for him to be attracted to - like his stupid fucking dye job for example. And like, this streetlamp they’re under isn’t even providing good lighting so, if anything, this fucker should look less attractive right now! 

Angrily, because he doesn’t know what other emotion he can possibly choose to cover his embarrassment, “Yeah, sure, fine, whatever.” He flings the hand covering his face at Todoroki and he takes it gently, rubbing his thumb over the outside of Bakugou’s hand. He chances a glance up and Todoroki is smiling softly at how their hands fit together and...

He’s going to explode! It’s all building up in him! He can’t contain it! He has to fucking know! Pride, embarrassment, humiliation be damned because if he doesn’t ask Todoroki if this is a date he’s sure it’s going to end up being the biggest regret of his life! “Todoroki-” he begins with a rushed word but before he can continue-

“Did you have a nice time today?” Todoroki let’s their hands hang lazily between them, connected and sweaty and soft and his eyes flick up to meet Bakugou’s gaze. He looks serious in the same way he does when he’s gotten frustrated during a game but also unsure, nervous maybe?

Bakugou stops short, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth but he manages to squeeze out a very manly, “Yeah.” Hearing how soft his voice sounds he clears his throat, sets his face in a hard but hollow scowl and continues, “What of it?”

Todoroki has smiled too many times today and Bakugou is starting to think it’s better for all of humanity if he never smiles because everytime he does Bakugou nearly dies from that weird swooping feeling in his stomach. “I’m just...” Todoroki’s smile pulls up crooked. “Relieved. My siblings helped a little, but I tried to think of things you would like doing. And Fuyumi said if you had a nice time that...” he trails off, eyes glancing away in what can only be described as shyly before looking back with a new determination and focus. “She said if you had a nice time that kissing might be appropriate.”

His eyes go wide. His brain stops working. Gravity may have stopped working which is weird because he also feels like he’s sinking into the ground. 

Yet Todoroki keeps stringing words together, seemingly unable to stop, “Fuyumi really stressed consent so we don’t have to but I think we’ve like each other for a while but you had said you didn’t have time for dating because of volleyball so I wanted to respect your wishes and wait but if you don’t want to kiss that’s-”

At that, Bakugou sets his jaw with purpose because he’ll be damned if he loses this opportunity for taking even a second longer to answer Todoroki and his stupid roundabout way of asking if Bakugou wants to kiss.

And, if Bakugou doesn’t make it home tonight because he collapses from some sort of spontaneous heart explosion in an alley, let it be known he died while living out a fantasy. Tell his mom not to cry and to play stupid cheesy love songs at his funeral because in an alleyway, five blocks from his house, he grabs Todoroki by the front of his shirt and crashes their faces together in a violent, bumbling first kiss. But he couldn’t give two shits about whether it’s good or not because Todoroki Shouto, volleyball prince, volleyball rival, volleyball wet dream, kisses him back.

They pull away, breathless from shock, and Bakugou’s grip only tightens in Todoroki’s shirt. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Icyhot.” He doesn’t expand and say he’s an idiot for not making it clear this was a date but, Bakugou has decided to not say shit because he’ll fight tooth and nail for it to never be known that he spent their whole first date in a gay panic because he didn’t know it was a date. He’ll save himself that humiliation.

With a goofy look on his face, Todoroki responds, “Sorry?” Then, after half a second, “Do I have to ask if you want to kiss every time or-”

Bakugou rolls his eyes and they kiss again and he thinks about how, sometime soon, he’s going to liquidate all the assets in his spank bank.