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For the record, Katsuki would much rather not babysit clueless, spoiled pretty boys for a living. It had been about the physicality of it, at first. Not the adrenaline rush, necessarily, but—the fact that he was good at something, that he could train his body the same way you clean and sharpen a weapon, that he could control each muscle, could build himself into something better.
The private security gig kind of just happened. Being Todoroki Shouto’s bodyguard kind of just happened. None of it was planned. None of it was part of Katsuki’s meticulously bullet-pointed five-year plan.
He’s just—
Well. Stupidly and irrevocably in love, maybe. A little bit. But that’s not—
“Bakugou,” Todoroki whines from the other room. It’s not as large of a suite as it could be. And Todoroki can certainly afford it. His pretty boy face makes him a hell of a lot of money, if Katsuki’s yearly bonuses are anything to go by. That, or he’s ridiculously generous. And apparently he just likes having Katsuki close, for some reason.
Katsuki tries not to think too much about it.
“What is it?” Katsuki asks. “Did you rip your tights again? Because I swear to fucking God, I am not running out in the middle of a snowstorm to get you a new pair. I don’t fucking care how hard teenage boys with their mother’s credit card get when you show a little bit of thigh. You hear me, Todoroki?”
Todoroki pokes his head into the room. “Don’t be crude,” he says. “My photo shoots are perfectly decent.”
Katsuki arches an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t miss the way Todoroki’s gaze lingers on his forearms, on the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “Really?” he asks. Bites his lip so he won’t tack on sweetheart like he wants to. “The one with the leather skirt?”
“Haute couture,” Todoroki hisses, cheeks suddenly red, red, red. “Besides, it was for charity.”
Katsuki scoffs. “Oh, it was real charitable of you, alright,” he says. “Letting everyone see what you look like giving the camera bedroom eyes in fucking stilettos with that ridiculous red lipstick—”
“Wait,” Todoroki says. He bites his lip all fucking coy. “Did you—did you actually pay for the premium photos? Katsuki.”
Shit.
Caught.
Todoroki sounds fuckin’ delighted. “Oh my god,” he says. “You’re giving my own money back to me. This is—”
“Stop looking so smug about it. I was—I was curious, alright? It’s not a crime.”
Todoroki steps closer. Katsuki feels cornered, all of a sudden. “Curious?” he asks, and—
Katsuki wishes he could touch. That he had the excuse of some perceived danger to pull Todoroki’s lithe, surprisingly firm body to his chest and keep him there, breathe him in. Fucker buys cinnamon shampoo during the holidays. Katsuki knows this about him, now. It haunts his dreams.
And they’re. They’re stuck in Russia for the next three days. The snowstorm doesn’t show any signs of dying down. He’s going to be spending his time here guarding the door while Todoroki sprawls about in those oversized cashmere sweaters he sees no point in wearing pants—or sometimes even underwear—with. God. Fuck. Fuck his whole entire miserable life.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says, because he likes that sharp look in Todoroki’s eyes when he pushes back. Likes having all of Todoroki’s attention focused on him. Even if it’s supposed to be the other way around. “Anything you wanna do about it?”
Todoroki smiles, just barely. It’s slightly uneven. Lived-in. Human. Not planned for a camera or a public event. Just—Todoroki, showing the soft bits of himself. In front of Katsuki. Letting him in. Not the precise way Katsuki would like to be let in if he had a choice in the matter, but he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, with Todoroki Shouto. “Depends,” he says. “What do you want?”
“You,” Katsuki says, before he’s stopped to think about it. Before putting a leash on the terrible mess of wanting that tends to simply happen around Todoroki. Before reining it in like he’s used to.
Slowly, Todoroki points to himself. “Me?” he asks, like he’s not sure he heard Katsuki right the first time. Like there’s anything else on the whole damned earth Katsuki could want more than Todoroki Shouto standing barefoot across from him, the collar of his shirt wrinkled, dark circles from not sleeping well on the plane, his mouth bare and the curve of his waist inviting enough that Katsuki wants to put his hands on him and just—stay like that until he’s got the outlines of Todoroki’s body memorized.
“Yeah,” Katsuki says, throat dry. “Yeah, you dumbass. You.”
Todoroki sighs in relief. Then, his smile widens. “Oh, thank god,” he says. “I thought it wasn’t working.”
Katsuki blinks. “What wasn’t working, halfie?” he asks.
Suddenly, Todoroki won’t meet his eyes. “My, um, my—well, I thought I was bad at it, you know. It’s—no one has ever actually—I’ve never had to work for it before.”
“Work for it?”
“Attention,” Todoroki says. “Usually people just—”
“Trip over themselves trying to get a piece of you?”
Todoroki gives a small, one-shouldered shrug. “Pretty much. I used to hate it. Still do, sometimes. But then you didn’t—you were different.”
“Different?” Katsuki echoes. He’s got a feeling, based on how red Todoroki’s ears are getting, that this is going to be fun for him.
“You’re the first person I ever—I’ve never kissed someone first before. Well. Momo in high school before we both realized we were, uh, not particularly interested in the opposite gender, but—you know.”
Katsuki laughs. “No,” he says. “I don’t. Tell me.”
“That night I crawled into your bed,” Todoroki says, like Katsuki could ever forget the feeling of Todoroki’s warm body pressed against his, of Todoroki laughing into Katsuki’s shoulder and then just. Leaning in. Kissing him like it could be that easy to have everything you want in any version of the world. “I wasn’t really drunk. I mean—I drank a little. Mostly—mostly for courage. But I was—I just wanted an excuse to kiss you.” He winces, like he’s expecting Katsuki’s anger.
Except—
Katsuki gets angry about a lot of things, in general. About the fact that Todoroki walks around with a hotel robe tied loosely around his waist until Katsuki cracks and throws a spare hoodie at him just to get him to cover up so he doesn’t like. Shoot himself while cleaning his own gun, or some shit. About how Todoroki burns everything he tries to cook, including, but not limited to, a pot of boiling water, somehow, and then pouts until Katsuki cleans up his mess. About how unfairly beautiful Todoroki looks both stepping off a runway and when he wakes up in the morning with bed-mussed hair. Those are all valid reasons for anger.
But Todoroki admitting he might possibly want Katsuki even the slightest bit in the same way Katsuki wants him? That one he gets a free pass for. Obviously.
“Sweetheart,” Katsuki says, watches the shiver that runs through Todoroki. “C’mere.”
And Todoroki does. Comes willingly, like pressed up against Katsuki is the right and only place to be. His hands wrap around Katsuki’s neck, and then he pecks Katsuki’s mouth once, only to immediately pull away.
Katsuki chases him. Of course he does. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” he tucks a strand of hair behind Todoroki’s left ear. “So pretty. And all mine.” His hands settle on Todoroki’s waist. “Why would I ever let you go anywhere?”
Todoroki opens his mouth to say something, but Katsuki doesn’t let him. Kisses him for real. Nice and slow. Drags it out until Todoroki whines into his mouth, fingers clutching at Katsuki’s shirt, perfectly manicured nails digging the slightest bit into his skin. “Katsuki,” he says, and—
Oh. Katsuki definitely wants to hear that more often. “Tell me more,” he says, pausing to tug at Todoroki’s bottom lip with his teeth, “about your masterful seduction attempts.”
Todoroki pulls away, covers his face with both hands. “Don’t be mean,” he says, swatting at Katsuki’s chest. “You know, I only had to come out of the shower in nothing but a towel once for Kaminari to get the hint. Kaminari. And that’s like. The most effort I’ve ever put into a relationship. Before—I mean, before you.”
“Kaminari?” Katsuki echoes. His brain is a little stuck on that. “Who even—you know what, never mind.”
Todoroki smiles like he’s sharing a secret. “What he lacks in finesse he makes up for with enthusiasm,” he says, and Katsuki kisses him again just to shut him up.
“I’ll show you enthusiasm, princess.”
It’s not an unexpected discovery, how well Todoroki’s body fits with his. How easy it is to get an arm under his thighs and carry him to the bed, look into his eyes when he refuses to let go, drags Katsuki down with him. It’s a good thing, that Katsuki doesn’t mind falling for him. God, that’s—
Real fucking cheesy. Katsuki’s got a reputation to think about.
“Spoiled brat,” Katsuki says, but he doesn’t mean it. Means something else entirely.
Todoroki looks at him, eyes wide and trusting. “Kiss me again,” he says. So Katsuki kisses him. They’ve got time, but that doesn’t mean he plans to waste any of it. Not when he’s already waited so long.
Not when Todoroki Shouto is his.