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Icy-Hot is Sleeping Beauty. Literally, not in a repressed, angsty, sleep-deprived confession kind of way. Katsuki’s not the kind of idiot to loom over his sleeping form and start—start fucking monologuing, or something. That would be—well.
About as pathetic as watching Todoroki lie on the couch with his arms crossed over his body like some kind of cheesy vampire and crack one eye open only to say, “I need my true love’s kiss.”
Katsuki is mercifully not the only one who blinks.
“Your—your true love’s kiss?” Deku asks.
Todoroki nods. “I need it to wake up,” he says. “Since I’m sleeping beauty.”
They had drawn lots in class. For the class play. Todoroki had gotten sleeping beauty. Yaoyorozu had cooed. Deku’s eyes had sparkled. And Todoroki—Todoroki had smiled a small, barely-there smile, and said, “I guess I can do it.”
How they’d gone from that to this, Katsuki doesn’t know. It hasn’t even been a single week.
And besides, Katsuki might not be depressed, angsting, or sleep-deprived, but something about the idea of someone else, some nameless, faceless figure leaning in to kiss Todoroki, being his true love… it makes him want to break something. To set it on fire and rub the ashes into the ground with the sole of his shoe just to make a goddamn point.
It’s strange, this anger. It doesn’t feel like his own, like the one Katsuki has grown so used to, still easy to spark but now, after so much effort, easy to tame too. It doesn’t feel like that. It feels new, and bright, and raw. He looks at Todoroki, and it sparks instead of settling down.
True Love’s Kiss. God.
“I mean,” Deku says. “I mean if you really want to—I could, I can do it. You know, as a friend. That has to count, right?”
And then, with no fucking warning, he walks over as a friend, and stands in front of Todoroki and bends down as friend, and kisses him on the mouth. As a friend, obviously.
Katsuki seethes. That’s his emotionally stunted sixteen-year-old. Even if he looks like he was colored in by a little kid and got stuck that way. His. Katsuki’s. Not up for being kissed by whoever the fuck feels like it. Although—
It’s not true.
Todoroki is not his. Todoroki is not a belonging. Katsuki knows all that. Doesn’t need—doesn’t need to be coddled into believing he deserves more than he actually does, more than he or anyone else ever will, just because he doesn’t like seeing someone else kiss Todoroki.
For a single, guilty second, Katsuki wonders if that was Todoroki’s first kiss. Then he remembers Iida going to bed early a couple of months ago and Kaminari unearthing a half-full bottle of Limoncello and passing it around until Yaoyorozu was straddling Jirou’s lap and Deku was blushing at Ei struggling to take his shirt off and Todoroki—Todoroki was giggling and leaning his weight against Katsuki’s body. Remembers thinking his right side was strangely warm. Remembers Todoroki looking at him with that stupid hair falling over his stupid face and his cheeks visibly red. Remembers cupping his face. Remembers his thumb resting on Todoroki's bottom lip, remembers looking at him and leaning in and their mouths just barely brushing and—
Kaminari had yelled “Woah,” and started pointing.
Predictably, Katsuki had pulled back. He hadn’t looked at Todoroki.
Still, he wonders if that counts.
(He wants it to.)
Now, as the cosmic punishment he deserves, Katsuki looks. Looks at Deku’s whole face go beet-red like he’s been plunged in boiling water. Looks at Todoroki’s smile. He’s smiling. Barely, but it’s there. It makes Katsuki’s whole body ache. He wants to reach out. To yell Stop it like a scorned lover standing up in the middle of the wedding he was only invited to out of pity. Deku would do that. Would invite him out of the ridiculous, unflinching desire to be good.
Katsuki shakes his head. He’s obviously fucking losing it.
“Thank you, Izuku,” says Todoroki.
He’s never called Katsuki by his name.
“Did it work?”
Todoroki stretches. “I’m not sure,” he says. “Maybe someone else should try.”
Katsuki fights the urge to tsk. Of course it didn’t. It was a stupid kiss. Barely a kiss. Certainly not enough to prove true love. Certainly not enough.
Yaoyorozu covers her mouth with her palm. Then, she stands up. “I suppose I could,” she says. “You don’t mind, do you, Shouto-kun?”
Todoroki’s just lying there, expectant. If Katsuki were a better man, he would be proud of him. Proud of all the long, painful steps he’s had to take to get here, to get to a place where he can trust enough to bare his throat and close his eyes and lie there and wait. Deku would probably cry if someone pointed that out. Katsuki maybe should.
Yaoyorozu brushes Todoroki’s bangs away from his face, and kisses his exposed forehead. “So,” she says, “am I your true love, Todoroki-kun?”
Todoroki laughs. Actually laughs. Out loud. “In another life, I’m sure,” he says, getting up on his elbows to kiss her cheek. Behind them, Jirou of all people coos. Must be real fucking nice to feel that secure in your relationship. Katsuki wouldn’t know.
Katsuki still wants to break something. The chair he’s sitting on would do it.
He could kiss Todoroki. He could do a damn good job at it, too. Could make it great, could make it memorable.
Why don’t you? whispers the mean, cutting part of his mind.
It’s—
It’s a simple fucking answer, really.
Because he wants it to be real. Not a product of Todoroki’s method acting getting out of hand. Not one in a string of many. If he were to kiss Todoroki Shouto, to kiss him properly, like he deserves to be kissed, Katsuki wants it to be real.
And that—
It’s fucking pathetic, is what it is.
Jirou goes next. With Yaoyorozu’s blessing, Katsuki’s sure. She looks at Todoroki, places a contemplative hand on her chin, says, “I think I might be too gay for this,” and pecks Todoroki’s cheek quickly, like she’s afraid of getting singed.
Tch. Fucking amateur.
Iida follows. He’s nervous about it. His hand, when it touches Todoroki’s, is shaking just the slightest bit. “I believe it is customary to show one’s respect for a prince like this,” he says. His lips meet the back of Todoroki’s hand. Like everything else Iida does, it’s so serious Katsuki would laugh if he could. If it didn’t sting.
Todoroki would let him. If Katsuki marched up to him and demanded a kiss, Todoroki would let him. That’s clear enough by now. But Katsuki doesn’t want to simply be let in. He wants more, wants to close the door behind him and make sure it never needs to be opened again. Wants it all, with Todoroki Shouto.
Ashido kisses Todoroki’s cheek, too. It’s the loudest, most exaggerated mwah sound Katsuki has ever had the misfortune of witnessing. She’s all giggly about it. Pouts like a three-year-old when Todoroki keeps pretending to be asleep.
Katsuki keeps watching. Sits there, and keeps watching. There’s nothing else to do. Nothing he could do without uncovering just how much of a fool he truly is.
Shinsou kisses the edge of Todoroki’s mouth all fucking shy. It feels like there’s something there. Some unspoken tension, ready to burst. But Todoroki doesn’t move. He just lays there, all pretty and empty-brained. No true love there, then.
It’s ridiculous. Katsuki should fucking leave. Now. He should have left the second Todoroki started rambling about kissing. He should have—
Whatever.
Nobody can tell what Hagakure intends to do until after she does it. Todoroki laughs, and curls into himself.
Oh, Katsuki thinks.
There are definitely better ways to find out the boy you (maybe) (kind of) (desperately) like is ticklish than an invisible girl deciding it’s a good idea to kiss his neck.
Todoroki is still laughing when Asui walks up to him. She kisses right above his left eyebrow. For his own sanity, Katsuki chooses not to question this.
Uraraka, Aoyama, and Sero all take their turn without much fuss. Chaste, quick cheek kisses that do nothing besides make Todoroki smile. (More than what you’re doing, whispers the cramped, bitter part of Katsuki.)
Tokoyami kneels before Todoroki, and starts monologuing. “May this kiss break the thrall of darkness that has taken you, sweet prince,” he says. Katsuki knew they shouldn’t have cast him as Prince Philip. Fucking method actors. Besides, he doesn’t even—
He doesn’t even kiss Todoroki. Not really. Which is both a relief and an insult. Instead, he rubs his beak? face? feathers? against Todoroki’s nose.
Morons, all of them. Stupid, clueless morons.
Katsuki crosses both arms over his chest. He bites the inside of his mouth just so he doesn’t say something he can’t take back. Something like mine, hands off. Something like back off, I want to kiss him. Something like I want everything. I want everything, and it’s terrifying.
The rest of the class isn’t here, so Katsuki hopes for a single, delirious second that he is saved. That he’s endured all the suffering in store for him. That he can finally unglue himself from this fucking seat and go to his room and take shower and pretend Todoroki Shouto’s face isn’t the only thing he can see when he closes his eyes.
Of course, Kaminari walks in. Just in time to see Tokoyami pull back.
“What are we doing?”
“Kissing Todoroki,” Jirou says, like it’s that simple. It is, to her. It’s simple to everyone except Katsuki.
“Oh cool, can I try?”
“Sure,” Todoroki says, because of fucking course he does.
Katsuki is tired. He is so, so tired.
Kaminari doesn’t kiss him either. Not really. It’s not a kiss as much as it is an offense to Katsuki, specifically. Because he just—
He grabs Todoroki’s face with both hands, puckers his lips, and fucking smacks them right on Todoroki’s.
It’s this, after everything, that finally breaks Katsuki. Wordlessly, he stands up, and walks away, turns his back on Todoroki and everything else.
His chest hurts.
…
It hasn’t been a full minute since he’s thrown himself on his bed when someone knocks on Katsuki’s door.
“Go away,” he yells, voice muffled by his All Might pillow.
“Bakugou, please open the door.”
Katsuki freezes. He knows that voice. He knows that voice so well it hurts just to hear it, even muffled by the doorway.
He gets up, and opens the door. “What do you want, halfie?”
Todoroki shakes his head. Like Katsuki is missing something. Something vital. Something big and irreplaceable and reason enough for Todoroki to look at him like that. “You,” he says. “I thought you’d realize a lot sooner.”
“What the fuck?”
Todoroki bites at the inside of his lower lip. “I asked everyone to kiss me because I wanted you to do it,” he says. “I was waiting for you to ask. But you—you didn’t.”
“Hah?” Katsuki says. It feels like the only thing he can say. The only sound capable of leaving his mouth. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
Todoroki laughs. “Maybe just a little bit?”
“If you want me to kiss you,” Katsuki says, ignoring the blaring alarm sounds inside his head telling him to flee, to slam the door in Todoroki’s face and hide away inside his tiny room until he withers, “then you fucking ask me to kiss you. Like a normal person.”
“Would you? If I asked?”
Katsuki doesn’t slap a hand on his forehead, but just barely. “I wanted to do it even without you asking, you idiot.”
“Oh,” Todoroki says, like the empty-brained thermostat that he truly is, deep inside. “Okay then. Please kiss me, Bakugou.”
Katsuki tsks. “Sure you want it?” he asks. “Haven’t you been kissed enough today?”
Todoroki shakes his head. “Not enough,” he says, placing a hand on Katsuki’s arm. “Not by you. You’re—you’re the one that I want, Ba—Katsuki.”
It shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t hit Katsuki so hard. So terribly and abruptly. It does. Of course it does. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”
Todoroki nods obediently. There’s something about that. About him being obedient for Katsuki. For his own good, Katsuki tucks this particular trail of thought away for later. He grabs Todoroki’s chin with his thumb and forefinger, and pulls him close.
“This better count, halfie.”
Todoroki blinks once, and then, once their lips meet, his eyes drift shut. He tastes sweet. He whines against Katsuki’s mouth, and it only makes Katsuki want to kiss him again, to kiss him more, to spend the rest of his life trying to figure out how to fit together with Todoroki.
It wouldn’t be so bad, he decides. It couldn’t be.
…
“So,” Katsuki asks, later, once he’s gotten Shouto on the bed and pinned his wrists to the sheets and gotten his hair so messy from moving around it looks absolutely ridiculous, like a giant, human fluffball “did you really need to drag it out?”
Todoroki considers this. “Not really,” he shrugs. “But it was fun. I didn’t really get to have that much fun. You know, before. And everyone going along with it was—it was sweet.”
“Did you warn them beforehand or something?”
“Not really. I mean—I told Momo I liked you, but that’s pretty much it.”
“Figures,” Katsuki says. “Fucking idiots. Everyone wanted to kiss the class pretty boy.”
“Maybe they just wanted to console me,” Todoroki suggests. “You know, because they’ve met my father?”
Katsuki laughs. It’s horrible, but he does, can’t help it. “Maybe,” he acquiesces. “But most likely not.”
Todoroki looks content to just sit there. Katsuki wishes he could keep him forever. There’s something Katsuki needs to tell him, though. Something he needs to tell him now, so he doesn’t forget. Because it’s important. It’s real fucking important.
“Halfie?”
“Yes?”
“No more kissing anyone else now, alright?”
Todoroki blinks. “Were you—were you jealous?”
“Was I—what the fuck? Halfie, you can’t be serious.”
“I am,” Todoroki confirms.
“I don’t want anyone else to touch you,” Katsuki says. “You’re mi—I want you to be—I want… you, I guess. Forever. So. Don’t kiss anyone else.”
“Okay,” Todoroki nods. It’s kind of adorable how serious he looks. “I won’t. I promise.”
Katsuki arches an eyebrow. “Not even Shinsou?”
Todoroki’s whole face reddens. “Not even him,” he confirms.
“What was the deal with that, anyway?”
Todoroki looks away. “No deal. We—we, uh, we kissed a little? When he first joined the class. It was—it was just because neither of us had ever kissed anyone and we both liked cats and I kept running into him late at night because he never really sleeps and it—it just happened?”
By the end of it, Todoroki has his face pressed against Katsuki’s chest. Trying to hide. Katsuki wouldn’t let him if he didn’t like him so much. But they wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t like him so much.
“Halfie,” he says. Todoroki doesn’t look up. Katsuki clears his throat. “Shouto, it’s okay. I’m not going to—to fucking sit here and pretend I like the thought of you with other people. I’m not going to do that. But it’s okay.”
Finally, Todoroki looks up. “It is?”
This fucking idiot. “Yeah, it is.”
“Then can you kiss me again? Please?”
Please. Katsuki could get used to that. “Just me, right?”
“Just you.”
Katsuki kisses him. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because Todoroki Shouto wants him back. That's the part that matters, isn't it?