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Bakugou’s not nervous, he’s fucking not—his palms are just sweaty for some totally unrelated reason. He wipes them on his pants, careful not to explode them, and pulls out his phone to text Todoroki again.
Before he can, he spots him walking towards him, hair lifting in the wind. It’s dark out, but it looks like he’s smiling; or maybe Bakugou’s imagining it. Either way, he smiles back, until he sees a head of green hair over his shoulder.
“Hi,” Todoroki says. “Sorry we’re—”
“The fuck is Deku doing here?!”
“Seeing the movie,” Todoroki says. “He said he wanted to.”
“Is that okay, Kacchan?” Deku asks.
It’s absolutely not okay, and despite getting along better with Deku lately, Bakugou wants to throttle him. But he can’t, because Todoroki will get mad, and that will defeat the point of being here. “Whatever.”
“Are you—”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. Let’s just get our tickets already.”
Since this was supposed to be a fucking date, Bakugou was going to buy Todoroki’s ticket, but he’s sure as hell not buying for Deku, so Todoroki’s on his own, too. He smacks his money down on the counter with a bang that startles the cashier.
Todoroki can be dense as hell, but Bakugou’s never known him to be this stupid. He rereads their messages while they stand in line for snacks, Deku babbling.
Bakugou: want to go see The Last Hero on Sunday at 8?
Todoroki: ok
Alright, so Bakugou could probably have been clearer. That’s on him. But it’s not going to stop him from being pissed about it.
“Kacchan?” Apparently some of Deku’s babbling had been directed at him.
“Huh?”
“Todoroki-kun and I are going to split a popcorn. Do you want to share with us?”
“No,” Bakugou says automatically, then changes his answer to, “Fine,” because watching Deku and Todoroki share food without him might drive him to the brink. “But we’re getting our own drinks. I’m not swapping spit with you, nerd.”
Deku frowns. “Alright.” He orders and pays from all of them. Bakugou plans on paying him back in one yen coins.
He lets them lead the way into the theatre and sits beside Todoroki, putting his feet on the chair in front of him. He returns the stare of the guy in it until he gets up and moves, muttering under his breath.
“I’m so excited!” Deku says. “You’ve both seen the first one, right? It doesn’t matter, since this is technically a prequel, but—”
One thing Bakugou has forgotten in the past five or so years since he saw a movie with Deku: he talks through the whole fucking thing. Bakugou tunes him out and dicks around on his phone until the trailers start.
He chose the movie, but he doesn’t feel like watching, thinking instead about how this night could have gone differently. This part would be the same—he wasn’t planning on feeling up Endeavor’s famous kid in public—but at least he and Todoroki might have gotten to talk more.
“Gotta pee!” Deku announces forty-five minutes in. Todoroki waits until he’s on the stairs before he turns on Bakugou.
“Are you mad?” he asks, too loud.
“Duh.”
“Because I invited Midoriya?”
“Duh.”
“I thought you and him were getting along now.”
“That’s not—it’s not about Deku. I’m pissed you invited anyone.”
“Oh,” Todoroki says. “Why?”
“‘Cause this was supposed to be a date, you moron!”
“Shh!” the woman behind them says.
“You shh!” Bakugou hisses back. Todoroki’s eyes are wide, reflecting the movie. “Stop staring.”
“I didn’t—”
“Back!” Deku plops into his seat. “What’d I miss?”
“The main character died,” Bakugou says flatly.
“What!? But he’s right—” Bakugou glares at him. “Fine, Kacchan. Give me the popcorn.” He yanks it out of Bakugou’s grasp.
Bakugou lets him take it. He doesn’t have the heart to fight with him right now, which is really saying something. He focuses on the movie, doing his best to ignore Todoroki’s eyes boring into the side of his head.
The train ride home is awkward. Deku’s quiet, which means he’s figured out what’s going on, and Todoroki’s trying to make small talk, which he’s fucking terrible at. Bakugou gives him one-word answers until he gives up and looks out the window instead.
He’s relieved when they reach the dorm. Deku takes off up the stairs, so Bakugou just has to get through one elevator ride before he can go bandage up his wounded pride. Inside, Todoroki hits the button for five.
“My room’s on the fourth floor,” Bakugou says.
“I know. Come to mine for a minute.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Todoroki says. Bakugou wants to smack him. Still, when the door opens at the fifth floor, he follows him out and down the hall.
Todoroki takes off his shoes as soon as he gets in his room; Bakugou leaves his on, just to be a dick. “Your room’s so dorky,” he says.
“Okay.” Todoroki rounds on him. “I’m sorry for not knowing it was a date.”
“It’s—whatever,” Bakugou sputters. “It’s fine.”
“It didn’t even occur to me that it could be. The two of us going on a date seems… unlikely.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you don’t like me,” Todoroki says, like he’s commenting on the weather. “You always insist that we’re not friends.”
“We’re not—”
“Then why would you want to date me?”
“Because the way I feel about you isn’t how I feel about my friends!” Bakugou yells. “I don’t feel like I’m going to die if I don’t get to kiss them!”
Todoroki blinks. “You want to kiss me?”
“Most of the time I want to blow you up,” Bakugou mutters.
“But sometimes you don’t.”
“Occasionally. When you’re not being fucking obtuse.”
And when he smiles, which he’s doing now, that tiny, toothless purse of his lips that passes for one. God, definitely when he smiles.
He steps closer, until Bakugou can feel the heat rolling off him. “Ask me again. I’ll say yes.”
“Ask me yourself, lazy bastard.”
“Want to go out with me? We can go anywhere you want.”
“I want dinner. Somewhere expensive. And you’re paying.”
There’s a glimmer in Todoroki’s eye. “I’ll put it on my dad’s credit card.”
“You’re lucky your bratty attitude is one of the things I like about you,” Bakugou says, and then, because he’s tired of talking, he grabs him by the shirt and kisses him.
Todoroki’s lips are colder on his right side, but then his tongue is in Bakugou’s mouth, and all Bakugou feels is warmth. Todoroki’s hands come up to touch his face, and Bakugou almost laughs, because oh my god are they sweaty. A thin layer of melted ice coats his right palm. Bakugou doesn’t mind it at all.
Todoroki pulls back to catch his breath. “Am I forgiven?”
Bakugou flips them so Todoroki’s back is to the door, crowding him against it and fixing him with a hungry stare. “Not even close.”