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Bakugou watched the tooth-rotting scene from across the gym.
Momo was saying something to Todoroki, her right arm over his shoulder, one of his almost-smiles pulling at his lips. She had a hand in his hair, scratching gently at silky white locks as his eyes fluttered shut.
Thing is, Bakugou didn't even know they were dating. Had picked up no sign of it until the two gave each other Valentine’s day chocolates that morning, a soft smile on Todoroki’s face, ears a little red as he’d traded heart-shaped boxes with her.
And it…
It hurt.
It felt like betrayal. Like their friendship, because friendship was all it was, wasn’t quite what he thought it was.
But maybe the worst part was, he cared. He really fucking cared. And he didn’t know why he cared so much. It wasn’t like it was this big secret Todoroki had lied to him about. Even if it was, it wasn’t his business. They were just friends. Maybe best friends, if those existed. But they weren’t a married couple who’d sworn under oath never to cheat on each other or something.
Even though Bakugou…he’d kind of thought Todoroki was his. Had kind of wanted him to be.
It was a realization that came to him just a few weeks prior, as they were walking to the gym, hands brushing. It was just the two of them, and Todoroki was talking about how he wanted soba for dinner, but Bakugou couldn’t think about anything but their hands and how much he wanted to reach out and close the distance between them, and why couldn’t he hold his hand, and why the fuck did he even want to hold his hand this fucking bad—
“I gotta go,” he bit out before breaking away from Todoroki’s side and sprinting away.
He’d avoided him the rest of the day and all night, broke their routine of studying together because Todoroki always fell asleep during class and needed notes, and had even been weird around him for a few more torturous days, because every touch felt like fire, and every glance was electric.
He had absolutely no control of his body or his feelings, and it scared the shit out of him.
Besides. They didn’t make sense. Someone like Todoroki Shouto would never be a match for someone like Bakugou. He was too good, too kind, and too gentle. An outright asshole when he wanted to be, but the sweetest soul Bakugou had ever met. The kind of person that fed the stray cats after school and sat with his quirk activated for hours in the winter just to warm them up.
Bakugou was violent, rude, aggressive, and mostly an asshole.
In no universe should Todoroki choose him.
But he did. Chose him for group projects, or for sitting with at lunch, or for late nights of whispered secrets that Bakugou in no way deserved to be entrusted with. There was no reason for him to, but he did. And, like the selfish bastard he was, Bakugou wanted him to choose him for everything else too.
That night, after Bakugou had been an asshole all day, turning on his heel and running with his tail between his legs every time he so much as caught sight of him, Todoroki had still shown up at his door asking if he wanted to watch a movie, just to fall asleep on his shoulder an hour later.
Which is why Bakugou had clung to that bit of hope that maybe, maybe when he caught him staring back at him those times he couldn’t help it during lecture, or after gym when he was all sweaty and beautiful, that it meant something. Maybe when he offered him smiles and fist-bumps and murmurs of encouragement, that it meant something. That they might be more than friends. Stayed up all night thinking about him, about how holding him might feel, what having him might be like, falling asleep only to dream of shy laughter and big eyes and soft hair and pink lips curled into careful smiles.
So yeah, watching him wrapped around Momo’s finger on Valentine's day made him pretty fucking angry.
"Wasteland," he grumbled under his breath. Referring to his own empty head. "Barren fucking wasteland."
Kirishima eyed him from where he was sitting next to him on one of the gym benches. "Uh, you good?"
"Never been better," he growled, squeezing his water bottle dangerously hard. Momo was whispering something and Todoroki was blushing.
"You've been staring at him all break. You know that, right?"
Bakugou snapped his head up at Kirishima. "Hah?! Fuck're you on about?!"
Kirishima raised a red eyebrow with a little smile. "You're not exactly subtle about it, bro."
When he looked back at Todoroki and Momo across the gym, Todoroki was looking right back at him.
His water bottle exploded in his fist.
He was so angry he didn’t even wait for him after class to walk to the train for provisional classes together. Hadn’t even looked at him when he got to the station five minutes later, only grunting in response when Todoroki asked, “is everything ok?” Something deep in his chest hurt, because Todoroki was so good, too good almost. He didn’t deserve him anyways, was being a massive asshole to him for no reason, of course Todoroki would choose Momo—
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fine,” Bakugou bit back. “Just shut up.”
They didn’t speak the rest of the ride. But when they got to class, Todoroki still wanted to partner up for combat training.
That night he wrote him a love letter.
Maybe it was the way he knew from anger management class that journaling was a good coping mechanism for him. Maybe it was the Valentine’s air. Maybe it was the way he felt like screaming at the top of his lungs that that boy was his, but he wasn’t allowed to because he wasn’t, and he never would be, and it was soul-crushing in a way he’d never experienced before, and he had to do something—
So he sat at his desk and wrote.
Todoroki Shouto,
I like you.
He squinted at the words. They looked lame. And not at all encapsulating the sheer scale of the painful squeeze in his chest.
I like your smile and I like your voice, especially in the morning. I like your eyes. I like your hands. I like how I feel when you're by my side. I like watching you fight. I like making you laugh. I even like your name. I could say it over and over and over and never get tired of it.
The pencil broke through the flimsy paper, lead cracking at the end in a tiny firework of dust. He picked it up and kept writing.
I like holding you in my arms when you let me. I like that it’s me you tell about your bad dreams. I want to give you a break from them. I want to know everything about you. I want to keep you safe. I want to kiss you. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine, and if I can't have you I think I'll go crazy.
His palm abruptly blew up, reducing the pencil to ashes, and he cursed out loud, slamming his head down on the desk. Tangling his hands in his hair, he grit his teeth, willing away the heat burning at his ears. “Fuck!" Tears of frustration sprung to his eyes and he tightened his grip until his scalp stung. "Fuck!"
Suddenly there was a knock at his door, and he shot up, the paper crumpling in his fist.
“Bakugou?” That was Todoroki’s flat voice muffled through the door.
He could hardly breathe. His fists were shaking and he wanted him so bad, but he couldn’t have him, and it fucking hurt. He remembered the way he’d leaned into Momo so easily and it hurt, because maybe they could have been something if he’d been less of a coward, if he’d said something earlier—
“Bakugou? It’s me. Can I come in?”
“One sec,” he choked out. Yanking his desk drawer open, he stuffed the crumpled letter as far back as he could. For some reason, he didn’t want to throw it out yet.
Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to fix it before calling out, “it’s open.”
The door cracked open, and Todoroki peeked his head in. “Can I come in?” he asked again.
See? Too good. “I already said yeah,” Bakugou tried scowling, ears red.
Todoroki didn’t notice, like he didn’t notice every other time Bakugou got all flustered, just slipped inside quietly, letting his bag fall to the floor with a thump. He was in his comfy clothes, a tank top and basketball shorts that looked older than him, kicking his slides off and flopping down on the floor like he was in his own house. His hair was damp, too lazy to dry it even with his quirk, red and white mixing in the middle messily, and when he bent his arm to rest his chin on it, Bakugou couldn’t help staring at the way his bicep flexed, something he immediately hated himself for.
When he looked up at Bakugou, his eyes were drawn to his forehead. “You have lead on your face.”
Bakugou’s cheeks burned hotter, and he wiped his forehead aggressively. He was making a fool of himself. “Whatever.”
“Do you want to study together?” Todoroki asked, already taking out his notebooks.
Bakugou’s chest physically hurt. It was an unrelenting tightness, so distracting he couldn’t help but mumble back, “go study with your girlfriend.”
Todoroki paused, looking up at him. "What?"
Bakugou scowled. “You don’t have to hide it. I don’t give a shit.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
He straightened up where he’d been slouched over his desk to glare at Todoroki lying on the floor. He was being an asshole, but he couldn’t help it. “Oh yeah? What about Yaomomo?”
Todoroki’s eyes widened slightly. “We’re not—we’re not dating. I, um, I don’t…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m gay.”
He gawked down at him. “What?!” He wheezed. “Then what—why are you guys always all over each other?!”
“Oh, that’s, um…I recently discovered that I like hugs.” He finally met Bakugou’s eyes. “Is that weird?”
Recently discovered? He practically melted into Bakugou’s every touch. Why would he only realize he liked hugs when they were from Momo? “You gave her Valentine’s candy!” He pointed out childishly.
Todoroki cocked his head. “I thought that's what friends did on Valentine’s day? I gave them to Izuku and Iida too. I would have gotten some for you too, but I didn't think you liked festivities.”
“I don’t want your dumb chocolates, idiot,” Bakugou cut off. His palms were tingling with the relief that washed over him. He felt like laughing, or crying, or maybe blowing shit up. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he abruptly announced instead, chair sliding back with a screech as he stood. “You can start copying my notes.”
Todoroki hummed, unaware of the full-body reaction Bakugou was having. “Ok.”
The second he shut the door behind him, he slid down to the floor, burying his head in his knees.
“Fuck,” he whispered. His heart was pounding so fast it hurt. He couldn’t stop thinking about Todoroki’s eyes, and his arms, and his mouth, and his leg started bouncing without him telling it to, heat crawling up his neck as he got his hopes up uselessly. He had no control over himself in the face of the boy lying on the floor in his room, the prettiest boy he'd ever seen, and it was driving him crazy. He’d only felt this way one other time in his life; when he cried in front of Izuku after being defeated in their first combat training exercise, the one with the fake bomb. He hated this feeling, so why was he laughing?
He slapped a palm over his mouth in shock. Was it really worth being so happy over? Just because Todoroki wasn’t dating Momo didn’t mean he had any more of a chance, right? Well, maybe a little more of a chance—
“Shut up!” he hissed at himself. “Shut up, shut up, shut up—”
“Kacchan?” He looked up just in time to see Izuku crash to his knees by his side, and quickly schooled his expression into something more like a scowl. “Are—are you ok?”
“Fine,” he grumbled, shrugging off the hand Izuku placed on his shoulder as he stood on wobbly legs.
“What happened? Why were you on the floor?”
“I said I’m fine!”
Izuku’s concerned expression morphed into one of vague horror. “Wh—Are you smiling?”
Bakugou spun around without another word and sprinted away to the safety of the bathroom. Not before he heard Kaminari asking Izuku, “Woah, you good? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I—I think Kacchan’s lost it.”
Tokoyami was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, and when Bakugou stormed in looking 80% manic and 20% psychotic, only raised a feathered brow before turning back to the sink.
Bakugou slammed the stall door shut, ignoring Tokoyami’s exasperated sigh, and sat on the closed toilet seat, tangling his hands in his hair. “Fuck!” At least Tokoyami had the decency to politely step out of the bathroom to let him have his meltdown in peace. Or so he thought.
The bathroom door swung open, and he held his breath.
“Kacchan?”
He cursed, lifting his head from his hands and standing with a growl. No way Izuku would leave him alone over this. He yanked the door open. “What do you want?!”
Izuku had that dumb worried look on his face as he scanned Bakugou over. “Is—is everything ok? You’re really red. Are you sick?"
Bakugou grit his teeth. “I’m fine, asshole!"
Unfazed, Izuku shook his head. “You don’t look fine.”
“Excuse me?!”
Izuku threw his hands up placatingly. “Um—! I mean, you look a little, a little…manic? Are you sure you're alright?”
Bakugou glanced over Izuku’s shoulder at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, shirt rumpled, and his expression was decidedly not normal even for his standards. And however much he despised any sort of display of weakness, especially in front of Izuku, he was exhausted.
He ran a tired hand down his face. “I said I'm fine, so quit your fuckin’ worrying.”
“Are you sure? Maybe—”
“I’m fucking sure!” he snapped, pushing past him out of the stall to lean over the sink, turning the water on cold and splashing his face. He felt Izuku move to stand beside him, hovering worriedly. Izuku had never seen him like this. Hell, he’d never been like this. “I’m fine,” he repeated into his hands, more for himself than Izuku.
“Whatever’s going on…Maybe I can help?”
Fuck. He didn’t deserve Izuku either. “I’m past helping,” he muttered, lifting his head to run a wet hand through his hair.
Izuku frowned. “Don’t say that. I’m sure it can be fixed.”
“Nothing needs fixing! I just…” He glanced at Izuku’s eyes full of concern, and sighed. “I’m just…” he could hardly get the words out. “There's someone I like, and I'm being insane about it,” he finished quietly.
He turned his eyes away again with a grimace. How pathetic.
Reaching over to turn off the sink, he shook his head. “See? Past helping.”
“No!” Izuku blurted out. “Not at all! I'm just…” He stifled a laugh, and Bakugou stiffened. “Your reaction did surprise me, but I'm glad you've realized.”
“...Realized what?” Izuku was looking at him with something like fondness, and it was making him sick. “Realized what?!”
“Your feelings, of course!" His voice dipped into a mumble as he continued under his breath, "you may be the last in our class to put it together. Well, besides Todoroki-kun of course—"
"Hah?! Fuck're you mumbling about Icy-hot for?!"
Izuku raised his hands instinctively. “Ah, it’s alright! I won’t tell him!”
Bakugou took a menacing step forward. "Tell him what?"
"Well, you know..."
"Tell him what?"
“Uh, that you like him?"
Bakugou slammed a fist down on the counter. "What the fuck! How do you know?!”
“Well, you’re not exactly subtle with—wait!” Izuku barely dodged a sloppy right hook. "Kacchan!"
“Get the fuck out!!”
“Ok!!!”
At least fifty deep breaths later, he felt slightly less underprepared to face Todoroki. Todoroki and the discovery that he was, in fact, single and gay.
Thankfully, the hallway was clear of Izuku, so he allowed himself another deep breath as he stood outside his door. He lifted a hand to the doorknob, but a muffled voice inside stopped him.
“Momo, I’m so nervous. What do I do?”
Bakugou frowned. Todoroki was on the phone with Momo? Nervous?
“He’s gonna come back any second. Do I say something?” There was a pause as he assumed Momo spoke, then, “It says he wants to kiss me.”
Bakugou's eyes widened, hand frozen over the door knob.
“It says—”
He yanked the door open with a wild look in his eyes. It slammed back against the wall with a bang and Todoroki jumped, which was cute, but Bakugou’s attention was zeroed in on the crumpled piece of paper in his hand.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He screeched, slamming the door shut and storming inside.
“Bakugou—”
He grabbed Todoroki’s wrist and hung up on Momo before snatching the letter from his hand. “What the fuck?!”
“I—I was looking for a pencil,” Todoroki tried, “and I saw my name, so I thought—”
“Well you thought wrong! Quit snooping through my stuff!” He let go of him a split second before his palms crackled, out of his control, and crumpled up the letter in his fist, ready to blow the damn thing up—
“Wait!” Todoroki snatched it back, cradling it protectively in both hands.
“Give it back!”
“Don’t blow it up!”
They yelled at the same time:
“The sooner it doesn't exist the better!”
“It’s beautiful!”
Bakugou’s eyes widened. “What?!”
“It’s beautiful,” Todoroki repeated, uncrumpling the paper carefully. “Don’t destroy it.”
“It’s terrible,” Bakugou hissed. “Why are you even still looking at it?!”
Todoroki’s eyes softened as he scanned over the words. “Bakugou..."
He looked up, and Bakugou was struck for the umpteenth time by how attractive he was: the soft planes of his cheeks, the slope of his nose, the pretty curve of his lips, the cut of his jaw, red and white hair falling into those big cat-like eyes staring back at him. And when he took a step forward, Bakugou almost took one back. Would have if it weren’t for the gravity Todoroki had to him, always pulling Bakugou into his orbit.
He took his hand in both of his, warm and cool against Bakugou’s clammy skin as he pressed the letter between their palms. "I’m sorry for making you wait," he said. “You can do it."
Bakugou let out a choked little noise as Todoroki took another careful step forward. “Do what?”
He bit his lip, and Bakugou couldn’t help staring. “You can kiss me."
Bakugou looked up from his mouth, searching his face for the prank he was sure this was. But he only found an openness on his features almost uncharacteristic of him, so unlike the usual blank façade he put up. “Why?” he said dumbly.
Todoroki pulled his hand up to his heart, splaying his fingers over the muscle for him to feel the way it was pounding. He still had Bakugou’s letter held tight in one hand as he raised the other to the side of Bakugou’s face, fingers trembling.
Bakugou swallowed nervously. Maybe he’d slipped into a dream. “I can, or—or you want me to?”
“I want you to. Please.”
They were close enough that Bakugou would just have to lean in a little more, just a few more inches. "Hey. What the fuck is happening?"
"Kiss me."
Bakugou's breath caught, heart pounding in his ears. He could feel Todoroki’s pounding just as hard as Todoroki leaned in a little closer, tilted his head, and Bakugou let instinct take over to slide his hand up to his jaw, the other resting tentatively at his waist. His world had been reduced to Todoroki’s soft breaths against his lips, his cold fingers on his neck, and, pulling him just that much closer, let Todoroki close the distance.
His lips were softer than he could have imagined. He kissed him again, grip unintentionally tightening on his waist. Every touch had Todoroki twitching, so sensitive and lovely, pressing closer and closer until Bakugou was being walked backwards, the backs of his knees hitting the side of his mattress as they collapsed on the bed.
Todoroki climbed over him, thighs on either side of his hips as he cupped his face and kissed him.
"Wait," Bakugou gasped. "What the fuck?" His head was spinning, because he had his crush in his lap, straddling him with wet lips and tousled hair and his hands on his face, then those hands were running down his chest and he could hardly breathe.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Todoroki asked against his lips, voice hoarse.
"Why the fuck didn't you?"
Todoroki kissed him again, pressing his lips against his carefully, shy even in this position perched on top of him. Bakugou didn't know where the fuck to put his hands and it must have been obvious because Todoroki mumbled, "touch me. I won't break."
Bakugou choked as Todoroki set his hands on his bare thighs. "Why the fuck are you letting me do this?"
"Because I like you."
"Why?"
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you—you’re you.”
Todoroki ducked his head to lick at the corner of Bakugou's jaw, the soft skin of his thighs and the way his tongue flickered between hot and cold driving him crazy. "What do you mean?” He murmured against his skin.
Bakugou turned his head to kiss him again. Kissed him and dug his fingers into his thighs just to keep them from wandering, because even though Todoroki said he could touch him Bakugou knew he'd explode if he felt one more inch of him under his calloused palms. Kissed him until Todoroki broke away panting, curling the rest of the way over Bakugou to fall into his arms. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Bakugou's neck as their bodies pressed close, legs tangled together. Bakugou turned his head, inhaling against silky red hair, doing his best to memorize the way Todoroki felt in his arms, the way their hearts were pounding in time, the tug of Todoroki's fingers clutching at his shirt like he might disappear.
"Am I dreaming?"
Todoroki lifted his head with a little snort. "No."
"You're beautiful," Bakugou blurted out. Todoroki's smile fell. "Fucking gorgeous."
"Bakugou, what...?"
"So fucking pretty," he murmured, cupping his face. "But that's not—that's not why I kissed you."
"...Why did you kiss me?"
"Because I'm obsessed with you, you fucking loser," he said. "Because—because you make all this fucking shit worth it." He ran a thumb over his bottom lip. "All I wanna do all day is stare at your pretty face and listen to you talk about dumb shit and hold your stupid hand." Todoroki's face had heated up substantially, and Bakugou couldn't help wondering if maybe Todoroki lost a little control around him too, as bizarre as it seemed. Maybe Todoroki was just the slightest bit as affected as he was. Maybe this meant as much to him as it did to Bakugou. He had that tender look in his eyes as Bakugou caressed his cheek with his thumb. "Stay here tonight."
"Hm?”
"Stay."
"Why?"
Bakugou tucked a strand of red behind his ear. “I need you."
Todoroki looked away, a gorgeous flush to his face. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Warm and cold fingers tightened in the fabric of Bakugou’s shirt. “My nightmares," he mumbled. "I'll wake you.”
“Please fucking wake me," Bakugou said. "Fuck everything else. I only care about you."
A choked-off noise escaped Todoroki as he looked back at him. "You can't just say that."
"I can say whatever the fuck I want."
"But—but you don't mean it."
"I don't say shit I don't fucking mean. If you don't wanna stay that's ok but I'm not gonna let you believe—"
He didn't get to finish as Todoroki cut him off with a kiss.
Usually, Bakugou hated being interrupted. But this was alright. He was better at kissing than talking anyways. This way, he could press the promises he didn't have the words for into his lips, and then it was like he wasn't really being interrupted anyways, wasn't it?
When Todoroki pulled away all too quickly, Bakugou chased him, drawing a little smile out of him as he put a finger to Bakugou's lips. "Thank you, Katsuki. I—I do want to stay." He didn't wait for Bakugou to respond, just flopped back down, snuggling against Bakugou's side, arms and legs wrapping around him carefully. "Will you hold me a little while longer?"
"Yeah," Bakugou wheezed, reeling from his first name on Todoroki's tongue. "Yeah, what the fuck, of course I'll fuckin' hold you, dumbass."
He felt Todoroki's lips curl into a smile against his neck.
Careful, he wanted to say. If you're not careful, I'll fall in love.