Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shouto danced all his life. From the moment he knew himself, he’d been at the Art In Motion dance studio his father owned, absorbing everything he could. Over and over, he learned. He learned until the basics became second nature, until he didn’t need the bar for difficult jumps.

 Until he could do it all with his eyes closed, quite possibly fast asleep. Possibly while dying- 

As a child, it fascinated him whenever he’d watch the ballerinas in action. They bent like flowers in the wind. And yet, they were firm as soldiers on the tips of their toes. Their eyes were always magically spellbound to follow their hands. And when they spun, he watched with bated breath. 

He tried to imitate them even though he wasn’t in a grade ‘high enough’ to warrant learning those crazy spins. He would try to learn them anyway whenever he was left alone a little too long. Because they were beautiful. 

But the most beautiful spins of them all belonged to one person. His mother. She had the grace and beauty he wanted to emulate most. She was already a Prima ballerina and took to teaching just before Shouto could clearly remember.

One time, after his own class, he went to watch her as she ushered her students in, a gentle smile on her face when she met his gaze where he’d been peeking out over the glass window. He had gasped, stooping. But she called out to him, “Shou, do you want to come in?”

Reluctantly, he came to stand by the door, wringing his hands, “I wasn't peeping, promise.”

She laughed (so did some of the students), pulling him in, “It’s okay if you were, love, now come on. I want you to look at something.”

Lessons with his mother were always funner. Instead of feeling like he was wobbling on thin ice, he felt as if he were skating instead. And it was nice, when she smiled and he got it right. Then, she’d give him a lollipop.

“Don’t tell your father,” She ruffled his hair.

Shouto smiled, “I won’t!”

But that calm didn’t last. 

His father, who went by Endeavor all around Japan, became the second best dancer in all Japan to a man who called himself All Might. It was all over the news for a while, and his father was unapproachable every time it came up in magazines. 

That was not all that changed. 

His father, who used to give some leniency, suddenly tightened the ropes. Todoroki barely had breaks. He was never allowed any sweets, or to see his friends. And Touya was shipped off to a boarding school without telling anyone goodbye. 

“You have to surpass him, Shouto.” He’d say.

Shouto knew not if he meant Touya (who was not even a dancer) or All Might, who’d probably be near retired by the time Shouto would be eligible to be in his league…

But he had only nodded, feeling faint and weak in the knees but still standing. 

And everytime he saw his parents alone, they’d always be fighting. His siblings would always try to distract him but it never worked. Worst yet, he did not know what that man did to his mother. At some point, she’d quit her job, would be at the table drinking tea and staring at nothing. Todoroki tried to cheer her up with new things he’d learned, and would even bring him his test results to show he’d been studying hard at school too. But she would only smile weakly.

It must've boiled over at some point, her rage. Like the kettle as it whistled. Like her eyes, as they shook. 

Like Shouto, when he froze. And water was poured.

And he screamed. 

After that, his mother was no longer around.

And dancing could not help him anymore.

But it’s been years since then. Really.

Years.

“Alright, from the top. Make sure to point those toes.” Aizawa says, clapping his hands to the piano.

Shouto does as told, not really thinking about it so much. It comes naturally, or rather, mechanically to him. The music goes over his head so he only takes note of the rhythm. It’s a bit of a drag, but he tries hard because that’s all he knows to do. 

After a few minutes, Aizawa makes them sit in a circle where it’s easier to see his eyebags, honestly. The man is one of those persons who really shouldn't have gone down the teaching road, but perhaps to broadway instead. He had offers upon offers, and yet he’s here, looking like a ragamuffin with a group of adolescent, emo and ‘diverse’ teenagers. 

When Aizawa catches Shouto frowning at him, he frowns right back, “Is there a problem, Todoroki?” 

Shouto blinks back into himself, “No, sir. Nothing.”

“You need to stop spacing out in class. Mindfulness is what’s gonna make sure you don’t trip and fall to your death.”

He can hear Shinsou mutter ‘Hear we go again’ under his breath.

An array of mumbling follows.

“Technically, you can still fall some other wa-”

“Quiet, Midoriya.”

“Eep! Sorry Sir.”

Todoroki scoots closer to Midoriya, who smiles at him briefly and sheepishly before looking back at Aizawa. The girls from the class next door join them after a moment. From the side, Uraraka and Yaoyorozu wave at them and then join into the circle. 

“So, after some consideration, we’ve decided to do a collaboration with another Dance School.”

Whispers happen everywhere. This isn’t something that happens often.

“What do you think this is about?” Midoriya whispers to him.

Todoroki shrugs, “Not sure.”

Uraraka shivers like a wind runs up her spine, “Now I’m kind of nervous.”

“Question, is it another ballet school?” Iida asks.

Aizawa clears his throat, “No, it’s mostly contemporary, but the people working with you will be hiphop.”

The uproar increases.

Hip hop? Todoroki hums. How does HipHop help them? Isn’t it the other way around? Unless it really is to be the other way around…but surely Aizawa knows what he’s doing.

“The teachers agree so that’s that. They’ll be staying at the dorms for a few weeks until the next concert where we might do a collaboration. Depends on what we see from you lot. You've been assigned pairs with who we think can help who most. Any treatment you give them will reflect back on us, so beware of your actions.”

And he dismisses class just like that.

***

“What could we possibly learn from them?” Uraraka asks.

Mirdoriya shrugs, “I’m not sure? Not to sound rude or anything. Aizawa knows what he’s saying, so clearly we’re missing the point-”

“I don’t see the point. But I agree with Midoriya.” Shouto says.

Shinsou snorts, but doesn’t add much more.

That night Todoroki lays in bed staring at his ceiling like it holds the answers. But then he promptly realises that it, in fact, does not hold any answers and falls asleep like the dead. 

***

The next few days pass quite quickly, and Shouto, along with the rest of the group find themselves standing in front of a new set of strangers in the common room. All might with them. All Might.

Midoriya looks starstruck and Todoroki feels slight resentment towards the man. Only a little. So he tries his damndest not to look him in the eye. His demeanour is a lot calmer than Todoroki was expecting. But a lot of dancers are like that off stage. That being said, Todoroki doesn’t consider himself one of them.

The group talk amongst themselves with almost no regard for manners until All might quiets them down. Even then, they’re still kind of giggling. 

They’re colourful, to say the least.

But something catches Todoroki’s eyes and fills him with something rather misplaced. 

Then again, don’t most things in his life feel misplaced? 

Either way, it tickles his subconscious when a boy with blonde hair, and red eyes come directly into view. If the red eyes weren’t striking enough, the gaze is as sharp as a bloodied knife; Todoroki’s pores rise just looking at him looking at something else .  Where had he seen that face before? Surely there are many people with blonde hair and red eyes. What makes this one different? 

“I expect good behaviour and manners from you all,” Aizawa says, looking at both groups of people, “Take today to feel each other out. Tomorrow, we start afresh, and will establish dance partners.”

After that, All Might does not actually say much, wishing them all a productive time together and timidly following behind Aizawa as he trails out the room.

Todoroki blinks. Well, it appears they’ve been left to their own devices. The crew all have a lot of energy. Too much energy. That and a drive Todoroki doesn’t quite understand. There’s six of them; Todoroki is sure he’ll have problems remembering names. 

Iida clears his throat, pushing his glasses up, “Hello, I am Iida Tenya. It’s a pleasure to work with you all.”

Magically the noise in the room stops.

One could hear a rooster crow; but there are no roasters in their vicinity. So the silence remains silent. 

Someone snorts, the person with bright blonde hair and golden eyes, crinkled with a hand over his mouth, “Oh my god, it’s exactly like Midnight said it’d be-”

A girl, with bright white headphones on, elbows him in the ribs. He wheezes, holding his side, “Jesus, Jirou. Reel it in, will you?”

“ You reel it in.” Headphone girl, who’s name is apparently Jirou, mutters.

“I beg your pardon, but is there an issue here?” Iida says, brows raised.

Kaminari snorts again. And this time, a girl with unruly dyed pink hair joins in, “This should not be funny.” She says.

A red haired one, with a sharp, wincing smile that reminds Todoroki of Midoriya's, puts his hands on Jirou and blonde’s shoulders. But they still argue.

And a guy with jet black hair, standing on the far end, looks between Todoroki, his friends and his own crew, saying “Guys, we’re really not making a good impression here-”

Todoroki looks at Midoriya, Midoriya looks back at him, and then they look at the chaos happening in front of them. 

Those are apparently Kyoto dance school’s best dancers. 

“Are we gonna be okay?” Midoriya whispers, looking haunted.

Iida says nothing, speechless. 

Todoroki shrugs, “Who’s to say.”

“Can I go back to sleep?” Shinsou mumbles. 

The familiar blonde one hisses, stomping his foot, “For fuck’s sake, everyone shut the fuck up.”

And once again, there is silence. And this silence also stays silent. 

The redhead only chuckles, coming forward, “Sorry about that, everyone. It’s just a bit of a uh… culture shock?”

Uraraka looks confused, “Culture shock? Of what kind?”

Redhead shakes his hands, “No, no. I mean on the way here… there was a lot of traffic-”

Jirou sighs, “Why don’t we just introduce ourselves?”

Pink hair adds, “Oh! And why not make it fun?”

Iida looks towards the rest of the group, “It sounds like a plausible idea. Thoughts?”

Yaoyorozu hums, looking a lot less shaken and confused than the rest of them, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

She looks at Todoroki and the others who all wordlessly nod their heads. And so, they do end up introducing themselves. And with that, they must do their favourite dance move. 

Todoroki barely manages to learn their names, or the names of their moves. But they’re everywhere, twirls and swirls and everything colourful… and it brings the misplaced feelings again. He doesn’t like the way said feelings rise and fall like a well.

And that ash blonde, who Todoroki learned was Bakugo, only makes it worse. But eventually, everyone gets their turn, including Todoroki who simply did a demi plie because it was the most convenient move he could think of-

“What ya looking at, pretty boy?” Bakugo scoffs.

Todoroki blinks and flinches; was he staring? 

“Nothing.” He says, straight-faced.

If the back of his neck grows hot, only him and god knows. 

Bakugo scowls and pushes past him towards the dorm rooms, “Someone show us to the rooms already, I’m tired of dealing with you extras.”

He storms off, leaving his squad rolling their eyes. And yet, they don’t look that surprised. 

“That was rude.” Uraraka frowns, cheeks puffed out.

Redhead- Kirishima- smiles, “Don’t mind him too much. He just talks that way to everyone.”

Shinsou sighs, “Right, sure.”

Everyone decides to ignore that obvious tension left in Bakugo’s shadow. 

But Iida, ever the hospitable one, runs after Bakugo to show him to his room.

That night, Todoroki thinks a lot.

Those people, they’re everything Todoroki has been taught to avoid. Loud, rude, and he has a feeling they can be reckless. It bothers him, and he can’t figure out why.

It’s intriguing, yet terrifying. 

But most of all, Todoroki hopes he’s not paired with him .

***

“Is there any way I can improve? Tell me what I’m missing.” Todoroki feels choked up, watching the studio floor.

A woman, his mother’s friend, a faceless woman he cannot remember. But her ballet bun is clear; he knows she’s looking at him with pity.

“Dear, your dancing is fine.”

“It’s not, I can’t- I don’t look like-”

He doesn’t look like what his father wants from him. Nor does he feel like he’s spinning on a cloud, the way his mother used to look. Not that he can remember the way she moved anymore.

He just remembers that while watching her, he felt like dancing, too. Where had that gone? He feels like he’s on stage, drowning. He can’t hear anything anymore. 

Her smile distorts, and she opens her mouth to say-

Todoroki gasps, eyes focusing on the ceiling and the faint moonlight.

It’s that ridiculous dream again. He’s not going to be able to fall back asleep just like that. He finds himself going to the kitchen for water. Nothing can be better than water to cool him down. 

But lo and behold, as he enters the kitchen Bakugo is bustling about. Todoroki, not wanting to appear like a ghost, clears his throat.

Bakugo almost drops the plate he was holding, “Why the fuck are you here?”

Todoroki stops in his tracks upon seeing Bakugo’s face. The rims of his eyes are red and shiny. His lips a hair’s breadth from looking like they’re trembling. Had he been crying? Todoroki’s stomach sinks a little at the thought, and yet, his curiosity remains just that. Curiosity. Clearly his sleep-addled mind is trying to play tricks on him. 

What reason does Bakugo have to cry in the middle of an unfamiliar common room kitchen? 

And so, he ignores it. Bakugo coughs obnoxiously loud, and it’s only then he realises he didn’t respond. 

“I live here?”

“You know what I mean, half and half bastard.”

Half and half bastard?

Todoroki furrows his brow, going to take water from the jug, “I don’t appreciate your swearing, use my name.”

“You didn’t answer my question properly.”

Todoroki sighs, sipping his drink, “I got up thirsty. And why are you here?”

Bakugo scoffs, “None of your damn business.”

“If I had to answer, your answer is only fair.”

He feels strangely annoyed. 

Bakugo growls at him, like an animal, picks up his phone and makes a loud aggressive beeline out the room with the plate in his other hand. Now that Todoroki wakes up a little more, he can smell the faint scent of spices. 

But before he can say anything about that, Bakugo’s already gone up the stairs. Does he know they have an elevator? 

Todoroki huffs as he goes up to his own room with his water, more restless than when he’d woken up before. 

Why does Bakugo have to go around being difficult? Why does he make Todoroki so annoyed? And as Todoroki falls asleep, Bakugo’s red-rimmed eyes appear again.

Was he crying?

***

It’s surreal seeing so many people in the studio, even if it’s big enough for them all. And the six new people still look sorely out of place, despite being given similar attire to wear as the rest of them.

Aizawa comes, looking dead inside as usual and starts playing music. The class looks around, confused. Todoroki raises a brow.

What is happening? 

“Freestyle contemporary,” Aizawa yawns, “Don’t just stand there. We don’t have all day. You should have already been in your position.”

Ashido looks confused, “Aren’t we supposed to get paired up first?”

And reluctantly Sero asks, “And aren’t we doing ballet and hip hop?”

Aizawa hums, “Plan change. I’m choosing on the spot. Now-” He resets the music, it’s a limbo between slow and fast, “Get to dancing. I did my research; everyone in this room knows contemporary. I’ll be watching you and pairing you up.”

Their school made contemporary dancing mandatory outside of learning ballet; no one really knows the reason for it. Many suspect it’s simply about having fun, and expression. Todoroki suspects he needs to actually do more research. 

Aizawa sighs, and resets the music again .

“Chop chop.”

Todoroki, honestly speaking, has the most trouble with freestyle dancing of any kind. It never felt right so he always leaned towards specifics. Modoriya's pretty good at it though. Somehow his limbs just know where to go, and just how much emotions to put into it. And in his element, Midoriya is a force to be reckoned with. 

In clusters, everyone begins joining in after Midoriya.

Bakugo moves to the centre of the room, shaking out his hands with a smirk. Even more of them move to follow suit. They move in sync, all doing different dances. And their moves are as colourful as the people doing them. Blooming like a flower, hands, out and then on their chest, as if speaking the lyrics. 

Todoroki, pretty used to being put on the spot for worse, starts moving in time with the beat; he knows this song. But even then, it's awkward, using so much of his body in hopes it conveys something. He doesn’t know how to convey that something, and even if he did, it’d feel exposing, somehow. But he dances . 

Everyone moves then, paving the way to their own little creative stories. They bump into one another a few times. But all is well and good.

Well, until Todoroki crashes into Bakugo’s side. He clicks his tongue. 

“Watch it, Halfie.” He mutters.

Todoroki slides away a little, “I think we’re both at fault there.”

Bakugo does a quick spin, “You dance like a fucking stick and are completely shit with your spacial awareness.”

“I am not.” Todoroki furrows his brow, finding it hard to continue focusing on the music.

He doesn’t say it, but Bakugo’s moves are… passionate. Perhaps a little too aggressive. He looks like he’d rather maul someone instead of dance to a song about heartbreak.

Wait, is the song about heartbreak? Thinking about it, someone could express heartbreak through rage. 

Bakugo smirks, doing a particularly flexible move with his arms, “Bet I can pull this song off better than you.”

Todoroki knows Bakugo is provoking him, but he finds himself giving into his childish talks. Bakugo’s smirk gets wider and it sets something off inside him. 

Todoroki has to consciously refrain from gritting his teeth, “Oh yeah? Why not see how true that is?”

“You’re on .”

“Quiet, you two.” Aizawa says, watching them with keen eyes. 

He resets the song, “If anyone talks, I’ll replay it again and we’ll be here all day.”

Everyone groans and someone mutters, “Dammit, Bakugo.”

Todoroki thinks it’s Kaminari. 

"Make the lyrics a person, for starters." Bakugo mutters. It’s as if he knew Todoroki was struggling. Todoroki tells him to shut up by saying nothing in return. 

Bakugo does a spin that takes a lot of control. It looks difficult . So Todoroki does one too, probably better. And he thinks, really thinks about the lyrics like Bakugo had said. (even if he won’t admit he’s thinking about his advice.) How could he humanise the words?

A broken heart is all that's left 

I'm still fixing all the cracks

What does that mean, to him?

Lost a couple of pieces when

I carried it, carried it, carried it home…

Bakugo expresses it with will, putting hand over his chest as he kneels for only a split second. And Todoroki sees it in the sweat on his chin. 

He is in his feels . Yet, it is not vulnerable. It’s volatile, burning like blue fire.

No, like explosions. It does not make you want to go help him.

It makes you want to run away. 

“Is that your story, Bakugo?”

I'm afraid of all I am

My mind feels like a foreign land

“She had the grace and beauty he wanted to emulate most.”

Todoroki startles at the sudden thought; Bakugo dances nothing like his mother did.

And yet, watching him move makes his limbs twitch with inspiration.Before he realises it, he had put a hand on Bakugo’s shirt sleeve. His hold is tight . 

They both stop. Right in the middle of the dance studio. Bakugo eyes are wide, lips parted, “It’s-”

Then the music stops.

“Alright that’s it. I got everyone down.” Aizawa says. 

 Todoroki startles back into himself, jaw slacking as he moves away. 

Even after that, Todoroki still looks at Bakugo, who’s looking right back at him with unblinking eyes. He thinks his own are like that too. Bakugo looks different, without his scrunched up face. He looks…fresh. In a good way. He looks like he realised something.

Todoroki doesn't know what.

“What the fuck was that?” Bakugo whispers harshly, back to normal.

Todoroki hums, schooling his expression again, “I…don’t know.”

What was he thinking?

From across the room, Yaoyorozu gives him a look. One more out of curiosity than anything else. 

And as fate would have it, they get paired together. For what? Todoroki doesn’t know. But Aizawa does, as he always does when he watches them dead in the eyes.

Todoroki winces when Bakugo scowls. 

His scowl is not as intimidating as he feels it should be.

***

When Todoroki went to the hospital to inspect the burn on his face, there was a boy sitting a few seats away who saw tears pooling down his cheeks. He was too tired to stop crying, and if he tried to wipe them, his face might have just hurt more than it already did.

The little stranger was blonde, with bright red eyes and a chubby round face. In his hand was a plastic bag. He did not look at Shouto with misplaced  pity like the few parents who passed by did; he was growing to hate the feeling. But instead, the boy looked at him the way any kid would look at a friend who simply tripped and fell.

Like he could get up again. Like if he had wanted it hard enough, he could even fly. 

“Better he doesn't know,” Shouto thought, lips trembling, “Better… he doesn’t know anything.”

Suddenly, the boy threw something at Shouto, who looked down and realised it was a gingerbread cookie. Strangely enough, he did not feel angry at getting hit. Or maybe he was feeling too many other things to process it. But when he inspected what was thrown at him further, he realised it was more of a gingerbread woman than a man.

“It tastes good.” The boy shrugged, “Take it. I have plenty more where that came from.”

In no mood for politeness, Shouto unwrapped it without a word and took a watery bite. The ginger tingled in his mouth.

But it was a burn he did not mind. 

***

Midoriya seems to have already been taken to Kirishima. They sit all snug in the corner of the common room table gushing about their favourite dancers. At some point, though Todoroki wasn't really a part of the conversation to begin with, he got lost even more when it got to props and costume choices.

Kirishima won’t stop complimenting Midoriya’s red shoes. It’s like a German Shepard meeting a Golden Retriever. Who classifies as the latter or the former is left to be seen. 

Ashido, seems to be going strong in socialising; all the girls (and he means all the girls) sit on the couches over passion fruit juice and crackers. Todoriki suspects they’re gossiping. He’s too scared to get anywhere near them. Sero had tried to join them earlier but got put out almost immediately. 

Shinsou listens pretty attentively to Kaminari going on and on and on about something . He only adds his two cents here and there. 

But overall, everyone seems to be making progress of some kind with their dance partners. Todoroki metaphorically burns with jealousy. Todoroki Shouto, for the second time that night, pretends to go for juice in the fridge simply as an excuse to stand anywhere near Bakugo, who’s at the counter going through his phone. 

“Hey.” Todoroki says.

Bakugo huffs, raising a brow at him, “What.”

Todoroki didn’t think that far, because he assumed Bakugo would walk away before then.

“Uhm, how was your day?”

“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’m leaving.” 

He walks off without looking back. One of the dorm room doors slam shut after a few minutes; everyone winces at that. The sound vibrates in Todoroki’s chest like a reminder of his failures.

Well then.

Todoroki sighs, “I think he hates me.”

Shinsou shrugs, “He seems to hate everyone equally.”

That, in theory, works. But in reality, it does not make Shouto’s life easier. He says as such, and for some reason, Kaminari snorts, “Nah dude, don’t take it personally. He’s just like that.”

“That’s so unnecessarily complicated.” Iida mutters.

“C’mon, Blasty’s a softie inside, when you’re around him for a while.” Kririshima grins, and Todoroki doesn’t miss Midoriya’s prolonged stare everytime he does. 

“And give him something spicy.” Sero adds. 

Todoroki runs a hand through his hair, “Well, that’ll never happen if he’s always like-”

“Nah-ah-ah.” A smiling Ashido appears in the kitchen, “And that’s where you should stop. What Bakugo likes is honesty and brute force. Make him notice you.” 

Then she gives him a smile, like she knows something. Not that Todoroki knows what she knows. 

And for a moment, there is silence. 

“Kinky.” Shinsou mutters with a smirk. 

Iida sighs, running down his face.

Midoriya, who’d been silently observing looks with wobbly lips as if he’s trying not to smile, “Shinsou, I’m sure that’s not what they meant-”

Tdoroki shrugs, “Is that really a good idea? Brute force?”

Kaminari hums, “Yeah, promise. He won’t kill you if he wants to get a good recommendation when we go back home.”

Which is an entire month from now. 

Who’s to say that Bakugo can’t catapult him into the stratosphere, bring down a Shouto robot just to be unreasonable, and dance with it instead? The thought, outside of his plight, makes his lips twitch a little.

He’s being ridiculous.

Midoriya squints at him, “You’re thinking something funny again, aren’t you.”

Todoroki does not dain him with a response. 

Jirou hums, “In my opinion, I say you give him a day or two. He’ll suddenly be up in your face before you know it. He’s just feeling everything out, or something.”

There are a few mutters of agreement, and Todoroki is just left feeling confused. 

***

The rest of the day goes by like that; Bakugo doesn’t talk to him or look at him.

But then sometimes he would look at him, and then get this strange expression on his face. 

“Why the hell are you following me around?” He had asked, standing in the middle of the hallway.

…so maybe that’s why Bakugo was watching him funny. Maybe he really should’ve followed Jirou’s advice?

But he gets the feeling it’s something else entirely. Because as Bakugo asked that question, he almost looked hopeful. Todoroki doesn’t know what answer he’s looking for. 

But he tries, “We need to try to get along?”

Bakugo huffs, “No, we don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so. Look, tomorrow we start. Just leave me alone today.”

Todoroki didn’t really know what else to say to that, so he said nothing. 

***

He saw the gingerbread boy after that at the ballet academy. His mother apparently loved all dances and wanted to see if she could test her luck at ballet "at her age."

Many people would say it was never too late to start, but Shouto wondered what made them ever think they were too late to begin with. But yes, he saw the boy again there, fiddling with a phone Shouto assumed was his mother's. 

This time, he was listening to a song.

***

There’s a knock on his door.

Several, actually.

Todoroki doesn’t notice until there’s screaming along with it. 

He shots out of bed after the third, wobbling to the door while rubbing dried drool off his chin. 

What could possess anyone to want to be up this early? 

He opens the door, ready to tell them exactly what’s on his mind-

Only it’s Bakugo Katsuki, standing with one arm seemingly poised to bang on his door again. When he realises that the door’s been opened, he almost trips over himself. He catches himself just fine though.

Not that Todoroki was going to help him. 

A small backpack is slung around his shoulders with some hints of orange stripes on the front. A design that actually looks kind of cool. Bakugo clears his throat, folding his arms tensely and looking Shouto up and down with poorly hidden distaste. He simply blinks back. 

“Get changed. We’re going to the dance studio.” Bakugo says.

Todoroki tilts his head, and Bakugo is still there, standing.

What on earth? He knows what Bakugo said the other day, but why now ?

“Do you know what time it is, Bakugo?” He leans on the doorframe and yawns. 

Todoroki knows for a fact that his alarm hasn’t gone off yet. He never sleeps through it; he just gets up and turns it off aggressively and then falls back asleep.

“We need to get something before class. I don’t want to have to spend an extended amount of time watching you fumble.”

“Then wouldn’t you be wanting to avoid me until class?”

Bakugo actually thinks of an answer, “No, if we get this shit over with, I won’t have to see you until the day we’re getting graded.”

Todoroki sighs, the advice of Bakugo’s friends a far cry in his mind. He wouldn’t know where to start, and now he’s wondering if it’s even a good idea. How much does Todoroki love his grades to deal with this?

Not so much, it seems.

“Give me a good reason to miss my sleep.” Todoroki isn’t normally this difficult.

“Just get fucking dressed, Half and Half.”

“Not until you say my name properly.”

“Not happening, get over yourself.”

“Well then.” Todoroki shrugs, and starts pulling the door closed. 

“Hey-”

With wide eyes, Bakugo manages to get his foot in before it slams all the way shut. A pity, since it would have been satisfying to watch the door slam in his face. His combat boots look great, though. Huh.

In his distractedness, Bakugo pushes the door back open, causing Todoroki to stumble back a little.

Uh oh.

Balugo growls, “Now you listen to me, dumbass. I want to be on top of my game today, so I can’t have you acting like a whiny brat.”

“It’s my grade as much as it’s yours.” Todoroki pulls on the door.

“Exactly, then why the fuck are you complaining?” Bakugo pulls it back, voice cracking.

On instinct, Todoroki zeroes on his face. Because, for whatever reason, his first thoughts are “ is he crying again? ”

Logically, there are no tears. It’s most likely anger. But he notices other things. Todoroki can see the slight mist of something in his eyes. The snarl of his lips, the clench of his fist, the strength in his voice, the shake in it, too. 

Still, his eyes . There are no tears.

They’re burning red like they had the first day they met. With a fire Todoroki does not think anyone can put out. Like the stairway to his goal is already reflected in them, and he just has to take the steps to reach it.

He knows what this is.

Todoroki looks down, gripping the door handle. He always envied people who could find that kind of passion in dance. His stomach clenches, because if he thinks any harder, he’ll remember what he used to be. He was once one of them. 

Todoroki finally lets go of the door. What had he been fighting for?

 “Fine. If we’re going to dance together, we need to at least be on the same page, and respect each other.” He says instead.

Bakugo groans and rolls his eyes, but says nothing else. So Todoroki continues on.

“I think proper name calling is in order, Bakugo.”

Bakugo looks at him over again, scoffing, “Whatever, get changed. I’ll be waiting out here.”

This time Todoroki decides to listen. Just because. Or because of his scores. Who knows. He at least takes solace in slamming the door, getting dressed and putting on some leg warmers since the mornings are growing colder.

Just like promised, Bakugo is waiting on the other side.

***

The studio is locked; Bakugo curses up a storm.

Todoroki raises the slightest of a brow, “Did you not think this far?”

“Shut it.” 

They end up getting the keys from the office because luckily enough, Yamada Sensei is as early as they come and trusts them not to make a mess.

Hopefully.

The studio looks different this early. No matter how embarrassing it seems, Todoroki doesn’t try to work more than he needs to. Which means he’s never had to see what the studio looks like this early. It’s surprisingly pretty with light catching dust particles through the ceiling windows.

Upon Todoroki closing the door, Bakugo removes his phone and a bluetooth speaker from his bag.

“I chose a song already.” He holds up his phone with a raised brow, as if in challenge, connecting his phone to the bluetooth speaker; it beeps.

Todoroki folds his arms, “You can’t just decide that, you know. Aizawa will know.”

Bakugo stares at him for a long, long time, as if he's, in Shinsou's words "sussing something out”, “Fuck that.”

Irritation flaring, Todoroki sighs. He’ll let him do what he wants for now.

 “What did you have in mind?”

Bakugo smirks, “I guess I’ll just show you.”

Though curious, Todoroki tries not to show it. That smirk is the smirk of someone who knows what they’re doing. Even if they’re annoying about it. The music starts playing, and before Todoroki so much as blinks, Bakugo is in the middle of the studio.

Fuck you, and you, and you. 

I hate your friends, and they hate me too.

And Todoroki fights the urge to roll his eyes when he hears it. Why did he expect anything different? Had he really dared to hope? Of course his first song would start with “fuck you.”

That being said, Bakugo’s movements command attention. They’re fluid steps filled with confidence. Whether it be real or bravado, it’s intriguing. When he dances, he doesn’t walk, he glides. He doesn’t move much from the centre, but with the way Todoroki feels his breath catch, he might as well have been running around the room.

So this is Bakugo in his element, he thinks. It’s a dance Todorki can’t look away from. A dance that makes him want to move too, actually. Where the light hits the floor through the high, high windows. 

If Todoroki could be in love with moves, this would be it. He hates to admit it.

The flexibility of his body continues to surprise him, too.

Before he knows it, he’s tapping his foot to the beat; although not his taste, it really is a catchy song. Heat travels through his body when Bakugo catches him and smirks. And when the song is done, Bakugo looks too sure of himself.

“The dance was…” Gorgeous, sexy, amazing. But Todoroki doesn’t really want to give him the benefit of the doubt, “Good. Good job. But you do realise Aizawa would flip if he heard a song with swearing, right?”

Bakugo’s smirk drops, “Then he can fucking suck it.”

Todoroki makes a face.

Bakugo groans, “Relax, there’s a clean version, you know.”

“My teacher isn’t sucking anything. And shouldn’t we come up with both sides together, or similarly somehow? That’s the assignment afterall-”

For some reason, Bakugo snorts at that. 

“You sound like you’re repeating what someone else said.” Bakugo says, “You don’t look like the type to think those kinds of things. Together? Give me a break.”

He admits that Bakugo isn't exactly wrong. But he can still feel offended. He’d learned those things from Midoriya. He learned a lot from Midoriya, actually. Bakugou doesn’t get to mock him for that. One can learn from observing. And that’s what he did.

“Regardless, you know I’m right. I’m not going to do everything you tell me to like I did earlier.” It comes out a little harsher than he thought it would. Something of surprise flickers in Bakugo’s eyes for a second. 

Slowly, it turns into a grin too wicked to actually be a grin, “Prove it, then.”

Todoroki huffs, “Prove what?”

“That we could match each other in a dance.” He puts a hand on his hip, a sneer still on his face, “If you think you’re good enough to match me, then I won’t tell you what to do.”

And there it is, that strange annoyance again. Todoroki doesn’t need to prove anything to Bakugo. Well, at least he shouldn’t have to. But he finds that he wants to show him what he can do. He wants to show him what he can be.

He wants to show him that he can dance . 

“Let me borrow your phone.”

He picks it up from beside the bluetooth speaker without listening for permission.

Bakugos’ scowl grows but he says nothing. Todoroki smiles internally; good. 

He googles for a song he actually has choreography to. His mother used to listen to it a lot, she made an entire routine for it that Todoroki knows step for step now. Be it his comfort song or his pain. Be it his salvation or his demise, this song is probably what made him keep dancing. Midoriya had been surprised to learn he liked Natalie Merchant’s music; it apparently seemed unusual for him compared to the rest. But in truth, he hates it as much as he loves it. 

He normally prefers wordless music.  But if Bakugo gets to use words, he can too. Maybe it’s the competitor in him he didn’t know was there. 

Or he'd forgotten existed.

“We don’t have all day, you know.” Bakugo says.

“Just a second.”

Bakugo clicks his tongue. 

He supposes the choreography is more for a female lead, but he’d always like those parts better. The delicate and softness of the movements. A quiet strength, as they made leaps look easy. He hopes Bakugo won’t notice.

He hasn't told many people about that.

He presses play, and hands the phone wordlessly to Bakugo who rolls his eyes even as he takes it. He never danced this in front of anyone before. Yet, he has a feeling Bakugo will understand. Understand what? Who’s to say.

As he starts, his heart trips just a little. So he takes a breath and shakes his hands out to get rid of unnecessary nerves.

It starts with a soft piano. He puts his hands up, eyes following his hands movement in a swift but gentle motion.

Take a look at my body

Look at my hands

There's so much here that I don't understand.

He does not have to think as he listens. He doesn’t have to analyse as he moves.

Your face say these promises

Whispered like prayers…

I don't need them

He wants to get lost in it again. For his mind to go everywhere, and nowhere. 

Bakugo’s silent gaze is loud. He doesn’t know why, but Bakugo’s eyes pin him down. Not in a way that his father’s gaze burned him. But with a bright warm intensity that tickles instead.

It is consuming. 

Because I've been treated so wrong

I've been treated so long…

This song is nostalgic in the worst way possible.

He remembers how he’d seen his mother crying on the floor in the kitchen. He remembers thinking she had such strong legs. So why was she on the floor?

He remembers trying to help her stand up, but she would not budge an inch.

As if I'm becoming untouchable

He would go to sleep, in fear of the shouts and glass shattering.

He would feel things, but say nothing because he felt it did not matter-

Well, content loves the silence

He feels himself grow lighter, closing his eyes. Music plays in his ears and echoes off the walls. 

It thrives in the dark

And when his father called for him, he’d dance. He danced out of spite, all day until his legs hurt. He became a doll. What his father wanted from him. He was made of wood and carried by string.

With fine winding tendrils

That strangle the heart

Until that was all that was left of him. And he hoped one day things would be the way they were before.

They say that promises sweeten the blow

But I don't need them, no I don't need them

But nothing ever would. 

“And I knew that.” He thinks.

I need the darkness. 

This song never fails to make his eyes burn, yet he feels free, yet he feels angry, and yet he truly feels like himself. And perhaps it is now he truly feels alive. 

The sadness.

He misses his mother. 

The weakness.

Oh, I need this.

The room comes in and out of focus as he floats off the floor, the ground so close yet so far when he bends back. 

A lullaby.

A kiss goodnight.  Angel, sweet love of my life…

He feels like he’s inhaling fire, and exhaling ice. And Bakugo’s stare never leaves him. He feels like he’s proving a point to him, but also forgetting he’s even there. Then the piano slows to silence. And there it is, the dreaded end.

It’s a moment before Todoroki comes back to himself. And when he does, Bakugo watches him with strange eyes. Wide eyes, like he did when Todoroki had held onto his shoulder. Todoroki thinks that’s a bad thing for a second and he becomes even more alarmed when he sees Bakugo’s eyes go glassy.

And he thinks it again, Is he crying?-

He grows alarmed, “Bakugo? Is something wrong-”

Bakugo turns away, “Don’t say another fucking word, or you’re dead.”

Todoroki shuts his mouth, feeling his heart drop just a little.

“Was it that bad?” He asks, after the silence goes on too long, “It was my mother’s favourite song. And I just though-”

He’s cut off but a disbelieving but wet laugh, “Are you stupid or something? That was-” 

Bakugo turns back around and does something strange with his hands, “It’s was– why didn’t you fucking dance like that yesterday ? Or any of the other times I fucking saw you dance?”

Todoroki looks at him in confusion, “You saw me dance before?”

Bakugo scowls, coming back to himself, “Not the point! But of course I did, idiot. I watched the competitions and researched everyone we were working with.”

Clearly they got informed earlier than Shouto and the others did. Maybe he should search Bakugo’s name later. 

“Oh.”

“You danced like a piece of programmed metal on those damn recordings too.”

Todoroki ignores how his stomach sinks again, “I-”

“But I guess you’re not so bad.” He watches Todoroki up and down.

It is concerning how easily that makes Todoroki feel better.

There’s that redness under Bakugo’s eyes again that confirms his suspicions, though. Todoroki wants to ask why Bakugo cried. And why he might've been crying the last time they were in the kitchen. And why it bothers him so much.

But the door opens, and the words die in Todoroki’s throat. And suddenly, his mental status quo is like static once again. Calm. Looks like they didn’t really make any progress. Todoroki probably made it worse.

“I see you two are hitting it off.” Aizawa says, leaning on the doorframe.

If he heard any of their previous exchanges, he mentions nothing. 

Bakugo only grunts in response. And Todoroki nods. 

Gradually, the others trickle into class.

In class, Aizawa gives them time to figure out more to do with their dances. 

Bakugo sighs, “We need to pick a song.”

Not bothering to hide his satisfaction, Todoroki smiles with half his face, “Good to see we’re on the same page now.”

That is, until it’s time for them to actually pick a song.

They bicker all through the class that Aizawa threatens to put them out. 

When they go back to the dorms, Midoriya looks worried, a stark contrast to the amusement in  Kirishima’s eyes. 

They have several weeks to make the finished product; a lot more time than Aizawa would give them normally. Which he’s thankful and hateful for. 

The next few days go by similarly. But for all Bakugo complains about hating his company, he doesn’t do anything to lessen their time together. Todoroki starts noticing several things. This boy is a walking oxymoron. Though he’s loud and charges at everything head on, he has the capacity to be logical and efficient. He is probably the most hardworking person Todoroki knows, getting up early and never relaxing. 

He says he hates things and people, but would stick around anyway. He’s as stubborn as Shouto himself, if not more so.

He is probably the most volatile and emotional person Todoroki knows…and he is surprisingly sensitive. Although most of his clothes consist of skulls and black, they’re a fabric that’s really expensive and soft. 

Not that Todoroki went touching to see. He can just tell.

And he likes gingerbread cookies. 

And yeah sure, he’s hardworking. But sometimes he works too hard. Todoroki, though not an insomniac, finds himself in the kitchen in hopes of finding snacks many times. And without fail, Bakugo is in the living room practising a spin, or a jump or a stretch. 

His face would be that of a man climbing a ladder without looking back, without quite knowing when he’ll reach the top. 

Watching him made Todoroki feel uncomfortable. Why try so hard? What made him think it would amount to anything? What made him so sure it’ll one day be enough?

…All of this info is highly irrelevant. So why does he know it? Why does he care?

Todoroki is now constantly confused by his fixation. It’s like it runs in his veins 24/7. 

He is also confused by the strange butterflies in his stomach every time Bakugo dances, and also whenever Bakugo watches him dance.  

And now they’re here in the studio, again still trying to decide on a song.

“No, that one is too fast.” Todoroki says. 

“You think they’re all fast. Aren’t there fast classical pieces too?”

“You’d be right, but it's just not the right mood.”

“What is the fucking mood you want anyway?”

After seeing Todoroki dance, Bakugo stopped imposing his ideas like some murder lord. He’s still difficult to work with though. They end up dancing with no music at all for the remainder of the day. 

And of course, Bakugo is not pleased. They're not the only ones wanting to use the room anyway, Jirou and Momo are in another corner creating some interesting things. Shouto will have to compliment them later.

“You’re doing it again.” Bakugo says.

“Doing what?”

“Dancing like a block of ice. It pisses me off.”

Todoroki, after a while of this, rolls his eyes, “Yeah, and your insults are so creative.”

Bakugo smirks, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Todoroki rolls his eyes again, “That was sarcasm.”

“Heh.”

And it’s not fair that Bakugo gets to complain about his dancing all the time.

“Okay, so I dance like a block, but you dance like you’re about to explode into fireworks. It's all over the place.”

It really isn’t. But who said Todoroki Shouto could not be petty? 

Bakugo frowns, “It’s not!”

“It is.”

“Shut up.”

Todoroki folds his arms, “Well then, I don’t dance like a block of ice.”

“I- okay fine.”

“Good.” Todoroki smiles.

Then a snicker comes along, and that’s when Todoroki realises Kirishima and Midoriya were looking their way with amused smiles.

“Good job, Todoroki. You broke him.” Kirishima laughs.

"You wanna die next?" Bakugo asks, raising a brow.

Kirishima snorts, "Yeah, I'll get scared when you actually try for real."

Bakugo starts chasing Kirishima around the room, causing laughter from everyone in the vicinity.

Midoriya comes to stand next to Todoroki and says, “This is kind of fun, isn’t it?”

Todoroki smiles, only a little one, “It really is.”

***

They find a song in the strangest way possible. 

Todoroki’s phone is ringing on the kitchen counter one evening. When he sees it’s from his dad, he sighs and ignores it. He’s so used to seeding them and ignoring them that he doesn’t feel annoyed by it anymore.

However, Bakugo hums Todoroki’s ringtone under his breath. Even the parts that did not play.

"You like this song?" Todoroki asks.

Bakugo answers quickly, "No, it's cheesy as fuck." 

Shouto huffs, seeing his red cheeks, "I like it too, you know."

Perfect by Ed Sheran. He can’t remember exactly why he loves it so much.

“Whatever.”

But wait-

Todoroki suddenly looks at Bakugo and feels his breath leave him when he realises the boy is already watching him back.

They must be having the same idea.

"We can work with this song." Shouto says, looking a little too happy.

Bakugo scoffs, "I don’t like it that much, but you took the words right out of my mouth. I guess."

After that, they both decide it’s about time to clock in for the night. But in the elevator, Todoroki suddenly feels a little sentimental. Maybe he's too happy about this.

“It’s not too bad working with you, you know,” Todoroki says, “Don’t be a stranger when the month’s over, okay?”

Bakugo, facing the door, huffs what almost sounds like a laugh, “Dumbass, it’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Todoroki grins, “Huh, I suppose you’re right.”

***

Todoroki had never heard that song before, but it was quite sweet. And seeing gingerbread boy listening to it made it even more interesting. 

That being said, he didn't know how to make conversation, so he asked, "Do you like that song?"

The boy startled and looked up with a glare, but then his eyes widened upon seeing Todoroki, "It's you again."

He remembered?

"Yup?" He said, cheeks heating up.

They stared for a moment until the gingerbread boy looked back towards the phone with a frown,"I don't like this song. It's cheesy as heck, you know." 

Even then, he played it anyway, cheeks flushing a little. Shouto felt quite awkward so he tried to focus on listening to the words of the song.

There was a loud laugh coming from inside the studio. A woman that looked just like Bakugo and who Shouto assumed was his mother. Shouto caught the boy looking towards his mother in the room, the same way Todoroki looked at his own in wonder. When she was there.

His gut wrenched with jealousy and he reached out to hold onto the boy's shoulder without thought.

The boy looked at him, unblinking. Shouto let go, shocked at his own response.

And to hide his embarrassment, he asked something else, "Do you like to dance?"

"Dunno how." The boy shrugs.

Todoroki hums, "That's okay…just dance with me?"

He did not know what he was doing. But the boy did not seem all that offended despite his intense gaze.

"Fine."

***

The sun hangs high overhead, and Todoroki wipes the sweat from his brow. Bakugo is much worse for wear, sweat glistening on his biceps, drips trailing down his chin to his collarbone and his chest.

Lord God in heaven.

Todoroki’s neck feels hot. This is getting problematic. It’s only been two weeks.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer, pretty boy.” Bakugo huffs. 

Todoroki swallows thickly, “I wasn’t-”

“You guys!” Uraraka shouts from the door, “Come in, we have watermelon slices.”

Todoroki follows after her without much complaining, feelings his cheeks start simmering. Definitely from the heat, right?

Right.

Uraraka passes them slices as they enter the kitchen, and swiftly leaves them by themselves.

Damn.

It's silent for a bit. Bakugou seems deep in thought, glancing at him in between bites. Todoroki has the urge to wipe his cheek.

"So why's it your ringtone?" He asks, looking anywhere but at him. 

"Huh?"

"That song."

Oh.

Todoroki shrugs, "I…can’t really remember."

“Play this song, and I'll be there.”

Those words suddenly flash into his mind every time he hears it. But he can’t remember who said them, just that he wanted to experience it again. Bakugou is silent, so he continues.

"But it was ages ago when I first heard it.”

"He said he couldn't dance." He smiles at the memory, "But I think it was..fun."

Bakugo, for one reason or another, goes a little red.

Shouto squints at him, "Why are you getting embarrassed?"

"Fuck off, I'm not."

Todoroki takes another bite of his watermelon, wiping at the juice that trickles down his chin.

"Why did you cry?"

He doesn't specify whether he means the studio or the common room. They were both equally confusing and interesting. And to his surprise, Bakugo doesn't get defensive. He only rolls his eyes, "Because it reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

Bakugo looks at him, like he doesn’t look at everything. Over his face, his eyes and everything. With angry wonder.

Like he is searching.

"It's none of your fucking business, halfie."

Todoroki huffs, ignoring his disappointment.

What does that mean?

Bakugo takes two more slices, leaving the kitchen, "I got an idea, by the way."

"Idea? For what?" Todoroki tilts his head.

Bakugo smirks. And it's different; one filled with boyish charm,"How to get you to dance like you did that one time."

 Todoroki's heart skips a beat again.

What on earth is wrong with him?

***

“How has school been? Going well, I assume.”

Todoroki grips the phone, keeping his voice as uncaring as possible, “Fine.”

It’s only so many times he can ignore a call.

It’s dark in his room, and he looks out the window as if he has anything interesting to look at. But it’s always been the same scene. And it always is, when he decides to answer his father’s calls. He listens to him say he isn’t good enough, that he needs to try harder, and that he needs to work faster.

From a man who he hasn’t respected in years.

Any good mood is long gone.

***

Todoroki wishes it was his good moods that lasted most, but it’s the bad moods that linger. Like warmth easily lost to winter cold, and the vengeance with which autumn surrenders. 

Midoriya instantly knows the moment he enters the common room. Without a word, he gives him a cold bottled water and a comforting fist bump.

“Come to me if you need something else, alright?” He whispers. Todoroki smiles, grateful. The knot in his chest loosens just a bit.

However, it tightens right back up when he meets with Bakugo later. They started creating proper choreography today, creativity buzzing in their veins. Yet, their chemistry is nowhere to be seen. 

Todoroki doesn't feel as into it as he did watching Bakugo dance. And he can tell that Bakugo's as frustrated as him that they're not connecting. He just knows it; he can't be the only one feeling it. It could be the stupid mood he’s in causing it. Sweating, they decide to take a break. Todoroki feels more useless than usual and takes to the bar in hopes that it helps to clear his mind.

"You don't stretch enough." Bakugo huffs, folding his arms.

Oh god, Todoroki doesn’t know if he can withstand anymore criticism right now. But he can’t look that way. With his leg up on the bar, chest pressed to his thigh, he snorts breathlessly, "Then what am I doing right now?"

His hamstrings burn sufficiently, he would think.

"Stretching."

Todoroki blinks, "Your point then?"

Bakugo groans, "What I mean is you don't stretch during dances enough."

"I do stretch. Did you think I'd somehow reach the sky or something?"

"Don't give me that tone, you know what I mean." Bakugo rolls his eyes.

Why does Bakigo choose the most random of times like this to say these things? It's weird since Bakugo doesn’t beat around the bush. Yet right now, it feels like that’s all he’s doing. Not to mention pushing his buttons.

He doesn’t need someone else to tell all the things he isn’t enough at.

"I really don't. You’re making no sense, you say I dance like a programmed piece of metal and a block of ice. But what does that mean? I get all A's on my tests, I get nines on my- "

"Don't you want to go beyond that? Don’t you want to dance for yourself?" 

Todoroki slowly pulls off the bar, switching sides even as the irritation ebbs and flows, "I do enough to get by."

"And that's exactly my point! I noticed this a while ago, but you don't know why you dance, do you."

That is not where he expected this conversation to go.

Todoroki's blood runs cold, like how a child would feel after getting caught cheating on a test. It travels through the rest of his body like the burn of the stretch, cold and icy. And ready to snap all his bones.

He pushes to rest his chest on his thigh again, "What? Of course I want to danc-"

"Let me rephrase that, then. You've lost your reason to dance. And now you're just going with the motions. Tell me I'm fucking wrong."

Fighting the urge to bite his bottom lip, Todoroki says nothing. Bakugo’s tone is no harsher than usual, but for some reason, it stings.

“That’s what I thought.” Bakugo says.

“Did you just want to tell me everything I’m doing wrong?” Todoroki says, hoping to hide the shame he suddenly feels, “I know all this already…”

He felt like a dog among wolves. He’s been drowning in it for ages. Still, he stubbornly believed no one would catch on. That no one could feel that he’d completely lost his way and that he’d forgotten how to breathe. And now, someone not so short of being a stranger, has already figured it out.

The knot in his chest only grows.

Do they all know? Are they angry? Are they disappointed? Do they-

A hand lands on his shoulder.

“Oi, look at me.” Bakugo says.

Slowly, if only to pretend he’s not so bothered, he looks up. His limbs feel taut and he’s not quite sure he’s breathing right. His entire body feels too hot, cold sweat stuck to his face. 

 Bakugo doesn’t look nearly as accusatory as he’d expected. If anything he looks worried. But Todoroki could be imagining things. Bakugo raises his hand to Todoroki’s cheek, tilting his chin down a little more.

“You with me?” He whispers.

“I,” He sucks in another breath, “Fine. I’m fine. I apologi-”

“Don’t apologise. It’s my fault.” His hand raises to Todoroki’s cheek, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, they simply look at eachother. Todoroki did not think to expect such sincerity from Bakugo, given his past behaviour, but he supposes he simply underestimated him. It is unexpectedly attractive.

And now is really not the time.

The knot loosens. Well, more like it uncurls, “It’s okay. It’s just that I woke up in a really strange mood.” 

“I made it worse, huh.”

Todoroki shrugs, “Yes, you did… but then you made it better.”

Bakugo gives him half a smile, “Heh. Whatever you say.”

He is too charming. Truly. 

“But can I ask, what is all this about anyway?”

“I just wanted to give you tips on something.”  Bakugo says, eyes a little more mellow while caressing his cheek(he seems to be doing it unconsciously), “I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit about it. Just wanted you to admit it so we can do something about it.”

“We?” Todoroki raises a brow.

“I said I was going to help you, right? I won’t ask questions, or whatever. About anything else you don’t want me to. I’ll even drop it.”

The frantic way in which he says it would be funny in any other situation. And if Todoroki wasn’t already embarrassed about freaking out, he’d be freaking out about the fact that Bakugo’s touching his face.

Oh god, Bakugo is touching his face. He just knows he’s going to blush soon, so he pulls Bakugo’s hand off his face himself, trying to put his focus elsewhere. 

“Only if I get to help you too. It’s only fair if it goes both ways.”

Bakugo’s brow twitches, “What kind of help?”

If Bakugo was thinking, so was Todoroki, and he knows exactly what Bakugo needs help with.  If Bakugo thinks Todorooki doesn’t try hard enough, then Bakugo tries too hard. Not that he’s about to tell him yet. 

“It’ll defeat the point if I tell you now. But let’s stop here for today. I want to go somewhere.”

“Hah? For what?”

“You owe me a smoothie now.”

He only feels a little bad when Bakugo doesn’t dispute it.

They manage to get Aizawa’s permission to leave the compass for lunch. And Todoroki selfishly wants to drag Bakugo everywhere he’d allow.

Instead of doing that, he simply takes him to a cafe Uraraka recommended and sits at the table farthest from the window. He doesn’t want  to overthink about how anyone outside perceives him. Bakugo watches him up and down, raising a brow, folding his arms and slouching in his seat.

“Why here?”

“Because I want a smoothie. Buy me a strawberry one.”

Perhaps he is being a brat, but who can blame him for wanting to test his luck. He has a feeling Bakugo wouldn’t mind. Which, now that he thinks about it, is ironic.

Bakugo only clicks his tongue. And again, he does not dispute.

The evening catches Bakugo’s eyes just right, almost making them glow slightly orange. And funnily enough, he looks out of place in a cutesy cafe with his scowl and spiky hair. Todoroki thinks it’ll help him relax anyhow. 

And so, he smiles.

“What’s so funny, Halfie?” Bakugo asks, looking over the menu with poorly hidden interest.

Todoroki shakes his head, still smiling,  “Nothing. Just wondering if that picture you said I could take still counts.”

Bakugo goes bright red. 

“You fucker.”

Revenge is sweet.

***

"Restart the song." Shouto had said. 

The boy did so.

The dance only consisted of them holding hands and spinning around. Sometimes, they'd swing their arms too. Gingerbread boy stepped on his toes many times, but Shouto didn't mind. And Shouto didn't teach him anything either. The boy looked like he was having fun. 

His heart was racing. Not because he was tired. He didn't know why.

However, the boy had to go when his mother came out again. And Shouto was again envious of how he got to hold her hand.

"Will you come back?" Shouto asked, hopeful.

But the boy shouted back, grin toothy and genuine like a blazing fire, "Play that song, and I'll be there."

"What's it called?"

"Perfect." He smirked happily, "I'll learn to dance. For next time!"

There was no next time.

***

Though Bakugo and Todoroki haven’t quite discussed anything after the little smoothie escapade, Bakugo’s words weigh on his mind. Now that he thinks about it more objectively, Bakugo did have a point. 

He wants to try harder. 

That night, efter everyone’s gone to bed, Todoroki makes up his mind, even if the idea scares him. A thing he’s avoided doing where anyone could possibly catch him for fear of embarrassment.

Dancing on pointe. 

He’s good at it. Great at it, even. It was probably his favourite thing to learn out of everything. Even if it hurts like a bitch. If anything is supposed to remind him of why he dances, it’s this.

So he’ll try a little harder, for once. And he’ll be honest without.

 He ends up practising so late that Aizawa has to shoo him out. He’s panting, holding his knees as he watches Aizawa lock the door.

“I see you’re inspired.” Aizawa asks, raising a brow, “What changed?”

If Todoroki squints hard enough, Aizawa almost looks amused. Not remotely disappointed.

“I suppose I wanted to try something new?” 

He’s not about to say it was Bakugo who convinced him. Coming from him, he might as well be professing love on a rooftop.  He doesn’t even want to profess love under a rooftop. 

“I see. Well, keep it up, then. Just don’t burn yourself out.” Aizawa swings the keys and leaves.

It was surprisingly satisfying, and different from what used to happen with his dad.

Tonight, he actually feels accomplished. 

***

It seems he wasn’t the only one thinking hard. 

“Alright halfie, what’s this thing you wanted to help me with?”

Todoroki hadn’t thought that far ahead…but he has an idea of what would help anyway.

That’s how they end up inside Todoroki’s room, legs folded on the tatami mats and eyes closed. Well, Bakugo’s eyes are closed. Todoroki is watching his posture. He’s sitting up, yeah. But so much that his back is arching. That is not the posture they’re going for. 

And it’s probably one of the first things they ever taught him in ballet, so it’s painful to watch. 

“You cannot sit up straight to save your life.” Todoroki finds himself saying, because it’s ironic that Bakugo’s such a good dancer despite his basics being so… skewed. Perhaps it’s symbolism in itself. A pretty house without a foundation, ready to crash and burn. 

Will the fire burn with fear, or will it blaze beautifully? 

Here he is, waxing poetic-

“Fuck off. Is this your idea of relaxation ?” 

Todoroki bites his cheek to keep from laughing. He doesn’t look half as intimidating as he thinks he does.

“Trust me, you’ll understand once you start focusing on your breathing. I can tell you’re not.”

Bakugo huffs, but does not refute his claim. 

With that, they sit in further silence; it’s best Todoroki doesn’t correct him anymore otherwise he really won’t relax. The quiet is as peaceful as Todoroki expected. He finds himself observing Bakugo’s face with little to no shame.  

His lashes are longer than Todoroki assumed. His shoulders, broad in comparison to his slim waist.

His hair is like a dandelion, Todoroki thinks mildly. 

Bakugo Katsuki is in his room, yet it looks no more or less out of place than anything else would look in here. He doesn’t know why he expected it to.

Again, this information is irrelevant. 

***

Sometime in the evening, Todoroki is once again left to his own devices and decides to look through his closet. 

There’s something he’s been meaning to find.

His closet, in simple terms, is a complete and utter mess. His shirts, which should be on hangers, have fallen off into the pile of unfolded clothes already piled on the bottom. He disregards those and pulls out a small suitcase he brought, opening it.

Inside is a black and white top and pants that’s actually a half skirt on one side.

He had modelled it after his mother’s debut costume, but never had the guts to wear it to anything. 

Now it’s time he changed that.  

***

It’s windy out today and everyone’s listless in the common room. Bakugo sits on the stairs and Todoroki comes to join him.

“Be on the lookout tonight.” Bakugo says.

Todoroki blinks, confused. 

Still, Bakugo gives no kind of elaboration.

***

Todoroki wanted to do what everyone does on a Friday night; sleep. He had his favourite comforter ready, tea in case needed in the middle of the night. And his tired self.

But life had other plans without him. As it had been all week long. There’s a bang on the door.

“Oi, half and half. You’re coming with us.” 

And of course, it’s Bakugo.

Todoroki does not like being woken up in the middle of sleeping when it’s still dark out. He frowns at his door. Perhaps he should say nothing. But that doesn’t work. Bakugo will never give up.

He opens his door to a smirking Bakugo wearing all black. A black tank top, skinny leather jeans unlike his usual baggy pants and boots that Todoroki reluctantly admits looks good. But that’s beside the point.

Bakugo folds his arms,  “We’re sneaking out after curfew.”

Todoroki furrows his brows. Is he hearing wrong, “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me.” 

Kaminari throws himself over from- somewhere, “You do know the rest of your cliche decided to come, right?”

Todoroki narrows his eyes, “Oh?”

Then why is he now hearing about this?

As if on cue, Kirishima comes outside, pushing a flustered Izuku with him. Midoriya is also wearing black. It’s more revealing than anything he’s ever seen Midoriya wear; skinny ripped jeans and an almost crop top. But of course, he wears his red shoes and a mint green jacket.

Midoriya looks at him, and his fluster increases, “Uh, well-” 

“Guys! We should really get going.” Ashido says, “Otherwise we’ll get caught right in the thick of it”

Jirou, pulling along Yaomomo in a red crop top and black mini skirt, scoffs, “With how loud you guys are, we’ll get caught anyway. Toshinori will be pissed.”

Bakugo turns back to him and smirks, “You’re the only one, ice princess.”

He blushes, “I’m not a princess.”

“Sure. With the way you dragged me around like a brat and made me buy you a smoothie.”

Kirishima and Kaminari wiggle their eyebrows behind Bakugo, and Todoroki feels his face heating up at being exposed, “Sue me, it was one cafe. And one smoothie.”

Midoriya watches him with wide curious eyes.

Just then, Ashido seems to catch wind of Todoroki, who’s still in his sleepwear.

She sighs, “Bakugo, you didn’t tell him till just now?”

“He wouldn’t have fucking listened, what do you want from me?”

Todoroki ignores them and goes to Midoriya, “What’s really going on?”

Midoroiya laughs, “To be honest, I’m not sure? But it seems a little fun. I guess. Kirishima convinced me, somehow.”

He has this look in his eyes. One he hasn’t seen in a while. It’s not a bad omen, by any means.

Yet Todoroki feels betrayed beyond measure, but sighs out all his breath, “Alright, so what do I wear?”

Kaminari smirks, “Boy I thought you’d never ask.”

He gets shuffled into one of their rooms with haste. 

***

Todoroki wishes he did not ask.

 They managed to get into a club. Underaged. And ironically, overdressed. 

He's also now wearing black skinny jeans and a dark blue turtle neck because he refused anything more revealing than that.

Like come on.

"We're in a club." He says, to no one in particular. 

"Duh." Bakugo shrugs.

“Underaged.”

“ Yes , how many times are you going to say that?”

He sort of loses Bakugo after that when Kaminari steals him.

Momo dances through the crowd, coming to him after a moment, "I know this might be weird to say, but it’s actually pretty fun. I say give it a go?”

Todoroki doesn't know how to do that. The lights are bright. The music rings so loudly he can barely hear himself think. The people on the dance floor look free. They dance, some look sexy. Some of them look like him, like three cats and a rat in a turtleneck pretending to be a human. 

But most of them, well, Todoroki doesn’t even notice them. 

 Yet, he still feels caged within himself. 

Trapped.

So for most of the night, Todoroki just casually sways. Just barely. As to not look too crazy.

Most of the others look like they’re living the life. And Midoriya and Kirishima are… making out. Hands; all over each other. But he pretends he doesn't see. The lights change from pink to green to pink to red again, and the crowd jumbles so he can't see anything anymore, anyway. 

He feels stupid in the middle of this. And sweaty. 

How does he set himself free?

As he decides to go stand in the farthest corner, a hand lands on his shoulder. He gets turned around to face Bakugou. And when Bakugo looks at him, he really, really, looks at him. He snorts at Todoroki's mild swaying.

"Damn block of ice." His breath smells faintly of coca cola, but no hint of alcohol. 

"Am not." Todoroki huffs, face warming.

He totally is. 

"Are you fucking pouting right now?"

"No…"

“All you gotta do is feel the music here, no expectations.”

“If you had no expectation, you wouldn’t be trying to get me to dance.”

“If you didn’t want to dance, you wouldn’t be standing here, watching them. I can see it in your eyes, you know.” 

In the loud music, in the lights that turn to pink, to green to pink, to red again, in the dimness, he can’t say no. Because he is so jealous of them right now it’s almost a pity. 

He remembers how the group sneaked out, how none of them wanted to take a cab, how they all ran down the streets like a bunch of crazy people.

Like birds. Or planes. Or paper cranes- whatever is beautiful, and flies-

And how he ran behind them, watching slowly as his close friends took flight. Even Shinsou, who seems to have found something new in himself. And Midoriya, who’s always finding new things in himself.

He always ran behind them; he thought that’s what he wanted. He thought that’s all he could get. But Bakugo stopped running, waited until he got closer to tug him on. And before he knew it, they were racing. He almost tripped, and he didn’t quite mind. 

Before he knew it, they were at the front of the pack. And the wind was so cold. But it didn’t matter because he was hot, and sweating anyway.

Todoroki is so envious. It hurts, “You got me.”

“Then do it.” Bakugo hums, eyes blazing with challenge. 

“Thank you for the sound advice. It means so much.” Todoroki deadpans.

Bakugo actually laughs, running a hand through his own hair, "Pretend you're Midnight."

" What?"

"Midnight. You know, the dancer?"

She's known for the most sensual dances in japan. Fluid, sexy, but classy. She's good at her job. Of course she is. But there is something huge Bakugo must be missing. Some screws, maybe. Maybe a lot of screws. 

"I know who she is. But I can't dance like that…" He rolls his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn.

"You can."

"I really can't." He puts both hands on his hips. 

They go back and forth with it too many times to count. So much that Bakugo probably gets fed up and that’s why he does what he does next.

Bakugo clicks his tongue; pulls Todoroki in by the shoulder and whispers into his ear, “Dance with me, and we’ll see who’s right, huh?”

Oh god.

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

Todoroki will not admit a shiver runs up his spine, “Alright…only because you’re wrong.”

He lets Bakugo lead him right into the middle of the chaos where everyone can see him, and where no one can at all. He finds that with Bakugo there with him, it isn’t as scary, but still ridiculous. 

At first, they kind of just swing their hands and move around a little, Bakugo letting Todoroki do what he wants for a small time, most likely. But then he gets all… closer again. 

"You know, I realised something." Bakugo whispers, breath ghosting over Shouto's ear again . He puts his hands around Todoroki’s waist, and it feels like there is no height difference between them with the way Bakugo stares.

Instinctively, both his hands come to land Bakugo's shoulders. As expected, they’re firm and broad- and now is not the time. 

"L-like what?"

"Like the fact that you like to dance the traditionally female parts better."

Todoroki's breath hitches. How did he know? 

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"I-"

"C'mon, you can do it." He runs a hand down Shouto's hip, squeezing, "You don’t owe anyone but yourself when it comes to dancing. So forget the rules, forget what everyone’s told you. Just shut up and dance."

Todoroki swallows, moving his body just a little more. Closing his eyes against Katsuki. 

“Thanks for the compliments?” He says, feigning calm.

“You’re flexible, tall, and graceful. Why not show off a little, huh dumbass?” Bakugo adds. 

Todoroki shrugs. 

"Tell me, what's holding you back from being you?"

"I- I don't know."

Bakugo clicks his tongue, "Alright, then pretend you're seducing me."

A new song starts playing. 

I've been goin' through some things (oh)

I struggle with my inner man (yeah, yeah)

Maybe Bakugo is under the influence after all. 

“ What ?” Todoroki full body blushes, “You are making no sense.”

I hustle, I'll do what I can to get this money

Blaq Tuxedo

And oh , how that drop beat comes in. 

Bakugo smirks, pulling himself away and starting his own dance. It has the same effect on him as it did last time. Heck, it looks even more beautiful than it did before. 

Maybe it’s the way Bakugo is smiling at him.  It flows, it burns, oh god, Todoroki is burning too, just watching him. He dances so well, the people started back away to form a little cheer circle. And Todoroki finds himself grinning in the middle of it. And when he throws it back-

“Bet you can’t do it better than that, loser.” Bakugo smirks. 

And Todoroki feels it again, that ticklish annoyance; he’s starting to think it’s something else. 

“Oh yeah? Thought you agreed I could match you in a dance?”

“Did I say that? Where’s your proof?”

Like you, like you

Todoroki does not know what the hell is happening. But his heart is pounding over the beat of the speakers. 

And he’s ready to prove himself again. Not as Midnight, but as Todoroki Shouto.

Like you, ooh

“Then pretend you’re seducing me.”

In all honesty, it’s not like he hasn’t danced this way in the confines of his own dorm room out of mere curiosity. Or while he looked at himself in his bathroom mirror. It was only embarrassing because he wasn’t sure it suited him…

But maybe now it’s time to see.

The way he rolls his shoulders. He surprises himself, and when Bakugo raises both brows in shock he feels even more fired up. He runs his hands from his chest to his hips in one swift motion, dropping down all the way to the floor and back again. The crowd around cheers on, clapping.

I found it hard to find someone like you

Like you, like you

Bakugo smirks, doing his own moves in response. But Todoroki won’t let him win.

And they just kind of go at it. At some point, They’re mere centimetres away from one another. Todoroki feels himself smirk when he gets particularly close, and when his face colours, the crowd’s whooping around them.

Send your location, come through

Is this what dancing feels like? Is this what he had been missing? His limbs still burn from particularly difficult moves, and yet his heart feels light. 

And he can tell Bakugo feels it too. They’re totally in sync.

They connect at the centre the same way they separated; Todorki with his arms on Bakugo’s shoulders and Bakugo’s hands on his waist. Todoroki finds himself hugging Bakugo close, cheeks heated up and heart racing. The crowd slowly starts to meld together again, but not without a few compliments from people passing by. 

Todoroki only smells Bakugo’s cologne with his face hidden in the crook of the guy’s neck. And even though they barely just met, it doesn't feel as out of place as it would have with anyone else. 

Bakugo speaks into his ear, after a pause, “See? You fucking did it.”

Huh, he really did. He grins into Bakugo’s neck. Had that really been him out there?

And before it fully catches up to him, it turns into a laughing sob. And then a sob sob. And oh god, if everything wasn’t already too much, Bakugo goes stiff against him, pulling away to try to hold his face.

He looks panicked and confused, holding Todoroki’s face with both hands, “Woah, hey. Why’re you crying?”

“I-” He starts, breath shaking, “Can we go outside?”

***

“Tell me, what’s making you make that face?” Bakugo asks.

He’s sitting next to the glowing neon sign near the club. If Todoroki was anything like a photographer, he’d take a picture of him. 

They’re been outside the club for a while now, Torodoki with his knees up to his chest. The silence isn’t uncomfortable as it is charged. 

“I’m… not sure. I don’t think my brain is processing it yet.” Todoroki mutters.

What is he so messed up over? It felt good to be free in the moment. Great, to put in all the effort.

But now he’s scared of how it’ll grow. What it’ll become. How much he’ll care, and how much it’ll hurt to care. Maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s scared of trying and failing. 

What will he be without her?

He feels like he saw a glimpse of his mother between the flashes of red and blue lights, between sweaty bodies and careless chatter. Would she have been there, if she had been there? He wonders what it means. What any of it means.

“Info dump me. I won’t judge.”

“The term info dumping in itself sounds judgemental.”

Bakugo clicks his tongue, “But you know exactly what I mean.”

He hates that he does know. Todoroki is constantly surprised at Bakugou speaking so softly to him, and it only made it hurt more. He’s trying, because of the look Todoroki had on his face. Because he wanted to be out of the club like a wimp. Because he’s close to crying like said wimp. 

He takes a shaky breath; Bakugo doesn’t comment. 

“My mother would always say the same thing to me whenever I cried over my dad being too strict with me. Especially when my calves hurt a lot.”

“ We can’t always have what we want. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do better, as your mother.

“That was not what I wanted to hear. I didn’t not know what I wanted to hear.  It was always some variation to it. But everytime my dad hit me hard enough to bruise, it always sounded the same to me.”

“We always want what we cannot have.

“I’m sorry.”

Eventually, Todoroki stopped caring enough to feel the burn of getting tired when she left. After the boiling water incident he stopped trying to feel the music while he moved. He did not feel it when he got hit with a metre ruler over a misstep.

Because not caring hurts less. 

“I used to dance because my mother was dancing and she always looked so beautiful, like that. But then after she’d left home to go to… I don't know why I dance anymore. But that feeling, I felt it again, dancing because I can and liking it. And watching you, when you told me I was getting it. Without rhythm. It’s scary, without my mom here to see it. Am I moving on without her?”

How it made his toes want to curl. Bakugo must have wanted to gag, hearing such a pitiful story. But when he turns, Bakugo is staring intently at him, hand inching closer to his face.

"Can I?" He asks.

Todoroki blinks at him.

Bakugo Katsuki is an enigma. 

When Shouto expects pity, he's given dry advice. (Which he needs more than he realises). But when he truly expects pity for being pathetic and brimming with baggage, he feels like he's being seen instead. No pity. No dry advice. 

It is an achingly familiar feeling. From years ago.

What's in your head, Bakugo?

Shouto only responds by leaning his cheek into Bakugo's hand. Shivering when he runs a hand over the scar on Shouto's face. He watches as the concentration on Bakugo's face slowly turns to pure rage. Silent, unlike his loud outbursts.

"This was what was under the bandage when we first met." He mutters under his breath, "I'll kill that man."

Something claws at Todoroki’s throat.

Ah, so it was you all along.

And it is not as dramatic a reveal as one would expect, finding out like this. But all the memories come flooding his brain. Moments that were comforting. Moments that built him up.

And that song they both danced to in the hallway of the ballet studio.

“Play that song, and I’ll be there.”

"My mom is the one that did it. But it was him who pushed mom over the edge, and then she got the kettle and-"

He cuts himself off,  a cage shaking in his chest, all the emotions he’d forgotten rattling it open. He's never ever said it to anyone. He never told Izuku the whole story. But he thought he was over it. He pushes Bakugo off of him, hiding in his hands, hiding in his knees, whole body trembling. 

Fuck. He thought he was over this.

"Todorok-”

He sighs, "Don't look at me."

He's never felt so pulled apart. Worn and torn like he feels right now. And he must look pathetic, crying about things that happened ages ago. Still affecting his dancing and everything, really.

But a hand lands in his hair, running through it in a way that has Todoroki peeking out through his fingers.

Bakugo keeps his hand in his hair, looking at him, “Do you want to know why I cried?”

He says it so randomly. Todoroki almost snorts even as he shakes. He only nods his head though.

Bakugo starts, “After we met, my parents got divorced. Mom couldn’t deal with it, So we moved. So I never got to see you again…although I had promised you.

“And I always hated crying. It felt weak to me. I hated when my mom cried, because if I’m a fire. She’s an entire lake of it. Never knew where she got it, because even I don’t have it like she does…but she changed after that. And for the better part of a year, I felt like I lived in a tiny apartment with a stranger.

“I needed something to soothe me. So then I would watch dance videos, and stumbled upon this really awesome one that just spoke to me. It spoke to me about how truly amazing dancing could be. And I cried my fucking eyes out.

“At first, it was because the dance was too fucking lonely. Too raw. But then it was because I missed my Dad. and I missed my mom. And I missed all of us together, like we were before. 

“It became my excuse to cry about anything that upset me. If I was feeling like shit, I wouldn't dare shed a fucking tear until I watched that video. 

Having calmed down, Todoroki peeks at Bakugo.

His eyes, soft in a way Todoroki never saw before. Eyes that say ‘ You are not alone.’ 

“And then, I started dancing myself. Perhaps I could do what that dancer did. Maybe I could be better. But honestly…

He wipes a stray tear from Todoroki’s eye, “I just wanted to see you again. I…

"Wanted to dance with you, again."

Todoroki feels his face grow hot.

And to distract from it, he finds himself asking, voice shaky and raw, “Why did you cry before? In the kitchen? And when I danced? Why didn't you tell me it was you all along?”

Bakugo, seeming to get embarrassed looking at him so long, huffs with ruddy cheeks, “The first time was honestly me just chopping fucking onions at three Am, okay? The second time…was because I was so glad to see you again. Even if you didn’t remember me. But I was scared..you never would. Dramatic, much. I fucking know.”

“Sorry.” Todoroki smiles.

“Whatever. It’s all fine now. You remembered. ”

They sit in another eternity of silence.

And then Bakugo says, somewhat softly, “It’s okay, you know. To feel like shit about what happened to you. First step to getting better.”

And Todoroki hums, pain in his chest letting go ever so slightly. But he doesn’t know what possesses him next, “Let me guess. Your therapist told you that.”

Bakugo’s eyes go comically wide. He honestly expects to get punched, or worse yet, for Bakugo to actually get offended.

But instead, he howls in laughter. So loud it leaves tears in his eyes, “You cheeky bitch.”

And wow, if that isn’t beautiful nothing truly could be. Todoroki’s own lips quirk up. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? My therapist says the same thing-”

And then they’re both laughing. Todoroki’s stomach feels like it’s gotten a workout. 

And then, getting an idea, he suddenly stands up, ignoring the sudden dropping of his blood that makes him slightly lightheaded.

Bakugo’s eyes widen, “Wha-”

Todoroki pulls him into the rain. Bakugo swears. If it’s in the rain or at him, that’s left to be seen. But they’re in the middle of the road, while it’s raining, where this car could suddenly pass and kill them. But Todoroki does not care, still holding Bakugo’s hand; he doesn’t tell him to let go. 

“Tell me what you said in the club.” 

Bakugo’s hair quickly sticks to his face, like his own hair does. He’s scowling. 

“I told you plenty things, fucker. Be specific-”

“When you whispered in my ear. Do it again.”

Bakugo goes red at that, Todoroki too. 

“Are you serious right now.”

“I believe so.”

“You’re a fucking weird bastard.” he mutters, right before he pulls Shouto in by the waist, like he did in the bar, right into his chest.

 Shouto puts his hands around Bakugo’s neck, like he did at the bar.

If it were anybody else, he would be embarrassed by this. Hugging? In the rain ? But he doesn't seem to mind, maybe because he needs this. Not the darkness, or the loneliness or even the cold. 

Bakugo whispers in his ear the words again like he asked.

When he whispers, Todoroki’s breath catches. Todoroki puts his forehead on his shoulder again, even though it’s damp with rain. This time he smiles. And this time, he doesn’t feel like crying. 

They slow dance in the rain. Kind of. More like swinging while holding each other.

And suddenly, they meet each other eye to eye. He knows, for a second time, they’re having the same thought.

So Todoroki kisses him; he kisses back. But Bakugo is warm. His lips are soft, there are no sparks, but a comfortable bubble rises up within Todoroki as they hold each other closer. Hotter, when it gets a little more desperate and Bakugo is tugging on his top, and when they separate for breath only to connect again-

Perhaps he needed this too.

The rain pours stronger, drowning out their quickening breaths.

***

And eventually, the month passes by. And the day before the final thing must be shown to Aizawa.

They’re the only ones in the studio tonight, after having begged for the keys again. There’s something different about the air today. Maybe it’s the way Bakugo grins at him, maybe it’s the way he grins back.

Bakugo turns on the music and goes to his spot across the room. Todoroki goes to his spot, all the way on the other side.

I found a love, for me

They slowly glide to one another, hands behind their backs. But then Todoroki leaps forward, putting his hand out, where Bakugo pulls away. 

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Todoroki curtsies and can’t help grinning. And Bakugo takes his hand. And they dawdle around a bit, spinning around like they did when they were kids. 

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

All Todoroki sees is Bakugo. And he can see himself in the reflection in Bakugo’s. 

He can find himself in the song easily, putting motion to the words. It comes, like it never has before. He doesn’t think about what he used to dance like, but what he can dance like now. 

Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

He doesn’t think about what he’s lost, but what he stands to gain. Right now, with Bakugo Katsuki. 

I will not give you up, this time

Bakugo pulls him in by the waist and he leaps, Bakugo holding him up. The room is there, but it’s not. Everything’s warm and burning. Then Bakugo pulls away, movements gentle, but passionate. 

When you said you looked a mess

I whispered underneath my breath

Their dance clashes in the perfect of ways. 

It almost feels like they’ve come full circle. With things they’ve lost. And things they’ve found again in one another. 

But you heard it

Darling, you look perfect tonight

"We'll blow them out of the water." Todoroki grins.

“Hell yeah. With our favourite song too.”

To that, Shouto grins. And Katsuki, realising what he said, blushes.

“You finally admit you like just as much as me.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

***