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The weather forecast announces a fifty percent chance of snow today.
There is the undeniable lightness in his footsteps while he tracks his usual patrol route. He strides the path as if he's stepping on a springfield of flowers, not of pavement. As tall as he is, the man tries hard not to skip; chooses to settle on humming a pleasant yet nonsensical tune instead. The neighborhood grandmas and his colleagues both give him funny looks when they spot his unusually bright expression while taking a stroll around. They shake their heads off, grinning in amusement as if Hero Shouto has finally lost whatever sanity is left on him.
As expected, he struggles to hide his delight brought on by the weather. Anticipation is one thing; watching every bit of snowflake drop and unravel in realtime is a different story. The excitement slips off from his typical casual demeanor, creating an animated vibe around his surroundings. Everything just seems to be more colorful, charming—picture perfect.
Things are about to get more interesting. The forecast may come off as good news to people like him, but he's aware how it could be upsetting to some. That far, he understands completely. He knows it isn't right to get jolly over people's misery, however, Shouto can't help feeling giddy with the small windows of happiness the cold weather brings to him.
No one knows how it feels to have a Katsuki Bakugou sticking to his side for warmth, fighting off the temptation to doze off. God forbid, he wishes no one else will discover that adorable side of his. Shouto thinks he's not yet ready to share such a breathtaking sight to anyone, let alone the world. Is he being selfish? Maybe. Protective? Definitely. After all, Bakugou is a great friend. Scratch that, he's the best. He gets along with Shouto so well that sometimes he ponders on hiding Bakugou just for himself.
He doesn't care if people don't understand his reasoning. The moment he is staring back at Bakugou's half-lidded gaze, with his blonde lashes peering over his side, plump lips firmly pressed on a pout, and his cheeks, oh, how could he ever forget his roseate expression? So soft to touch, so welcoming and so needy to his heated fingertips. That's when he realizes. Shouto doesn't give a damn about anyone's opinion.
It is perhaps that possessiveness that pushes him to do more than what is asked, his stubborn refusal to share his friend's most vulnerable moments because he truly believes it is something sacred that belongs only to them, to Shouto and Katsuki. He likes to know that he is needed, that he can provide comfort no one else can to his friend. It's one of the things that he won't dare half-ass because he knows no one can efficiently do it as he could. Bakugou deserves the best. In return, he will give him that worthy experience.
Shouto can even go as far as saying his services are sought after by the other party. He can't deny how big of an ego boost it is that he's exceptional at taking care of someone like Bakugou who is known to be best at anything he does. It is exhilarating.
Winters and summers have never been the same for the fire and ice quirk user. Bakugou fills those somber seasons with vibrant memories Shouto recalls fondly. His friend, a connoisseur of everything explosive, seems noticeably clingier, sluggish, faring to stick on either his left or right side for solace. They spend their patrol breaks like that, two grown men peacefully huddled together. Sometimes, they pass the time under hushed conversations, but Bakugou typically prefers the silence. Shouto soon figures out the reason why. The blush blooming across his puffy cheeks when their bodies invade each other's personal spaces is a big takeaway. He gets shy.
Bakugou, embarrassed? It sounds impossible, but it appears to be the truth. His proud friend doesn't like being indebted to anyone, Shouto believes. So, to pay his kindness back, Bakugou cooks him dinner.
The two-toned hero doesn't have to worry about choosing what takeout he's going to order for the night. He feels like a big chuck of thorn has been plucked out from his burdens. Bakugou is really amazing at resolving his problems. Perhaps, it's one of the perks he loves about his hero work. Getting to eat Bakugou's homemade meals really raises his job satisfaction. And since they're both working in Endeavor's agency, it's also obvious how they mostly get paired up on missions during these periods. Shouto can't thank the universe more for showering him with such luck in life.
So, here he is, hands in his pockets, waiting diligently for Bakugou's petite figure to show up around the block.
With a soft smile, he is ready to accommodate and welcome the explosion hero into his arms. Shouto knows the drill too well, Bakugou will slowly come to his left side so he can warm him up just like in UA. Or in their wintry remedial classes. Or the many missions they have together after being pro heroes.
Except, none of those happened.
His dreamy scenarios are quickly shut down when he sees the ever glowing Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight strolling alongside Endeavor toward his direction—wait, hold on, the old man?
There must be a mistake.
What is his father doing in their—Shouto and Katsuki's only—patrol route? His excitement crumbles to dust, confusion towering over as nothing goes with what he expected. In fact, reality is much, much, more terrifying.
Shouto feels betrayed. Huddling for warmth in winter is their thing, Shouto and Katsuki's only, no Enji Todoroki! How could his old man do this without even consulting him? How could he drag an innocent person like Bakugou into his schemes?
His friend is clearly affected by the cold weather, dazed and drowsy. Suddenly, a sigh steals his attention, as if he is fed up on hearing Holding Back Guy's loud thoughts running through his brain. Flabbergasted and slack-jawed, a wide-eyed Shouto watches Bakugou scooting closer to his father, making him look incredibly tinier beside the bulky frame of the former Number Two. The current Number Two sees red, insides churning and seething with something despicable. Bitter. Ugly.
He hates it. He hates what he is seeing.
While Shouto is almost considering committing arson, the old man doesn't seem to mind, or notice, what is going on. He continues on with his strange inspection, briskly walking and coming to a halt in front of him.
“Shouto, I apologize for coming here unannounced,” states the traitor, nodding in acknowledgement when their eyes meet. If the older Todoroki catches his deathly glare, he doesn't point it out. “Dynamight needs assistance.”
Like a child throwing a tantrum, Shouto hopes Enji Todoroki has an inkling of how he's freezing his corpse in his mind. Just so Bakugou won't rely on his quirk. A cold, unmoving body will be of no use to him.
Shouto clicks his tongue in irritation, the gesture earning a raised brow from his father. The half-cold, half-hot hero doesn't answer the bubbling question in the air, and instead chooses to snatch Dynamight away from Endeavor's side.
“Oi!” he doesn't need to take a glance at the other's face to know that the action takes him by surprise. He can feel the tremble on Bakugou's hand, and by instinct, he focuses his heat around his palms, just enough to keep him warm. With a gentle squeeze, his temperamental friend visibly mellows down. Not until Shouto opens his mouth, a mocking glare pointing in Enji's direction. “Thanks, but I'm taking him with me now. Where he belongs.”
He hates that he can't control his emotions when it comes to Bakugou. He can't hide anything from him. His emotions hang themselves like portraits in a museum, always so transparent, visible and up for interpretation when the topic is about his great friend.
“You idiot! How could you say something like that with a dumb look!?” Shouto accepts every light punch Bakugou sends his way. He quite deserves it for acting like an asshole. Pink is faintly dusting his cheeks, and the taller man assumes it must be from the cold.
“Do you really have to ask for the old man's help? Am I not enough?”
With sagged shoulders, Shouto looks over Bakugou, waiting for an answer. The expression on his face is unreadable for a second, musing. The moment he finally decides to respond, it seems like everything is obvious and simple in the world. Bakugou shrugs.
"Because he's hotter than you, Halfie. And definitely bigger."
Dynamight doesn't stick around to read his priceless reaction, walking away brusquely and leaving him on his spot. Shouto stands there pitifully like a kicked puppy, shellshocked and ignored.
What’s that all about?
Shouto tries to play it off coolly, but he can't. There's no way he can pretend that what Bakugou has said doesn't bother him.
Does he mean it in the literal sense?
Or, could there be something else? What could that be?
Because from the way Bakugou says it, the statement appears in a way he wants Shouto to get his point.
And well, after years of being friends and coworkers, Bakugou should have known that Shouto isn't really the brightest at picking up clues.
The next day, he figures he can ask one of Bakugou's closest friends for their opinion on the subject. He's lucky to bump into Mina around the agency while visiting Bakugou. It has been years, but it's endearing how they still dote on him despite their mutual friend begrudgingly declaring he's only tolerating their stupidity. Their prideful friend won't admit it out loud, but Shouto knows he treasures his high school confidantes and their precious friendships.
“Mina,” he calls out, stopping the girl in her tracks just before stepping outside the building. “Can I ask you something?”
“Todoroki! That's new,” a cheeky smile gets thrown his way. Judging from the wag of her eyebrows, Shouto shakes off the feeling that he'll be made fun of. “What's up?”
He gets to the point. "What does it mean when a person points out someone as hot?"
“Hmm,” Pinky crosses her arm, brows furrowed as she hums in contemplation. He's unaware he's been holding his breath in blinding anticipation. "That could imply many things, Todoroki. Is there anything else that person said?"
Without missing a beat, Shouto quotes Bakugou's words. "...that person said he's hotter and bigger."
"I see!" Ashido gleams, nodding vigorously, clapping with excitement. "Sexual interest. Your friend's sexually interested in that person he's describing. Definitely, that's the reason!"
Shouto feels like a lump has been stuck on his throat.
Bakugou…sexually interested....Endeavor…
Bakugou likes the old man!?
Shocked to the bone, he isn't able to bid goodbye to Mina as she waves her well-manicured hand off, escaping the scene after just dropping the bomb on Shouto's unprepared brain. His mind keeps on supplying him indecent behavior he wishes will never cross his mind again about his father and his friend.
That night, he wasn't able to sleep a wink.
Curiosity, indeed, kills the cat.
His footsteps thump heavily. The tiled floor and the high ceilings of Endeavor's agency seem like an austere path in the late afternoons of autumn.
There are bags under his eyes. The chest pain Shouto has been suffering from since yesterday is growing to be more indescribable the more he thinks of a certain blonde friend. His heart aches deeply like it's been hammered to pieces. So, if Shouto is the metaphorical cat in the idiom, he's sure this is what dying feels like.
Bakugou likes his father? Enji Todoroki, really? He wants to erase this information in his brain. Also, he would like to sit down for a serious conversation to reprimand his friend for his types.
You could do better, Bakugou.
For the past twenty four hours, the two-toned hero has been itching to say that in front of him but is afraid to do so. Shouto values his life and his friendship with Bakugou. He doesn't want to be blasted off just because he doesn't approve of Dynamight's eccentric sexual preferences.
He groans in frustration. Shouto wants to bang his head every time he thinks about it. So, he devises a plan.
This is clearly not Bakugou's fault. Endeavor must've done something, like luring his innocent friend into his demonic lair. He feels a shudder coarse through his spine with this deduction.
As soon as he heard that Bakugou is seen walking to his father's office, Shouto's body moves on its own. He needs to stop whatever is going on between those two. Or whatever Enji is planning to do with his virtuous, innocent friend.
"T-There! Harder!"
Shouto stops dead on his tracks as soon as the unmistakable lewd sound reverberates across the empty hall.
Oh. My. God. What are they doing? WHAT ARE THEY DOING? This is a workplace! They're not supposed to—
Is he too late? Are they—?
Cold, freezing water imaginably splashes all over him with his racing thoughts. Shouto is losing his mind. What would his siblings say? What would Bakugou's parents say? And his mother? Oh, his poor mother…. And him—what about him? Wait, what does he have to do with any of this mess? Shouto buries the hanging question into the deepest part of his brain. This isn't the place to dissect all that. Perhaps another time.
There's no way this is happening. Not on his watch!
He could almost feel an incoming heart attack as another groan that sounded suspicious came out from Bakugou.
The handsome hero doesn't need to think twice as the block of ice shoots off into his father's door.
"ENDEAVOR!! GET AWAY FR—" his ice blasts through the wooden door and his left side goes up in flames, literally, out of embarrassment. "...Oh."
"That was a dramatic entrance you provided, Shouto. Ten out of ten!"
Instead of his father, his eyes linger on the figures of his older brother Touya together with Bakugou who are both seated on his father's big office couch. The cremation hero stills his movement on massaging Bakugou's back. He tries to shrug the immediate relief washing over him upon realizing he's still in his hero costume, and not naked in Endeavor's office. Small mercies.
There is a bit of understanding with the situation they're currently under. Shouto knows how their quirk helps up big time on removing the tight muscles and pressures on their body. He knows this, because most of his friends ask for a massage back in their high school dorms.
Again, how come his friend didn't ask him instead? Shouto will be glad to give him backrubs. Is Bakugou mad at him or something?
Bakugou casts a judging glance, tilting his head quizzically. Shouto notes the sleepy expression on his serene face, and how his tone doesn't really have that typical spicy bite to it. "So weird to see you here, Halfie. You don't even show up when your old man calls for you."
"People change, Bakugou," Shouto lamely replies. A snort comes out of Touya, who is now patting Bakugou's spiky hair back to the armrest. Shouto's gaze turned to slits. He can't even do that without getting a snarl from the blonde!
He scoffs, arms crossing as he approaches the subject. "What are you doing here in the old man's office? Shouldn't you be at Kyushu?"
"Glad you answered your own question, Shouto. You're really growing up,” he snickers, then goes back to kneading Bakugou's shoulders. With eyes as sharp as a hawk, Shouto watches his friend craning his neck and looking more and more tranquil than ever. He looks more peaceful without all the creases in his face, so beautiful. Suddenly, a pang of jealousy ignites him when he realizes his brother could see Bakugou this way. Hold on, jealousy? Really?
Touya has the gall to respond back with a sardonic grin. "Since I don't have my own office here because mine's at Kyushu, Endeavor has no choice but to welcome me by loitering around his office. Hawks and I just dropped by to review some footage. This little gremlin here—"
He's cut off immediately by a hand swatting his mouth. "Dabi, get back to work! I didn't drag your ass here to listen to your monologues."
"Yes, Your Majesty," then his eyes return to Shouto who is currently committing murder in his brain. "How about you, little brother? What got you rushing for your dear life here?"
"I—" he trails off, glancing back and forth to the two men, unsure of the excuses he can pull at the moment. In the end, he comes up with nothing and decides to turn around. He's embarrassed. Even to Katsuki's standards, this attempt at saving face is pathetic. "Nevermind. Just a false alarm."
As soon as Shouto is out of earshot, the older Todoroki in the room clicks his tongue.
"Now," Touya stands up and towers over Bakugou, an amused smile painting his face. "Are you satisfied to see my own brother blasting off Endeavor's door?"
Bakugou smirks then shrugs off. "He did him a favor. This stuck-up room could use some renovation at the very least."
Touya sighs. "You're lucky I like pestering Shouto. I can't believe you even go as far as insinuating interest in our old man!"
"Hey! You think I like saying that!?” Bakugou snaps, hands crossing over his arms. “Raccoon Eyes told me it would work! And it wasn't my fault you Todorokis found malice in my words. I basically stated a fact. He's hot because of his quirk and b—"
"Fuck!” A frustrated shriek escapes Touya's mouth, dramatically stopping Bakugou from saying another word from his cursed monologue. With hands covering his ears, he grimaces at the younger hero. “I don't want to have a firsthand experience of hearing that! Shut up!"
"You shut up! You almost slipped back there, flamehead! Can't you stop talking for once!?"
Just like the infuriating blonde beauty in front of him, Touya doesn't like losing in arguments, no matter how petty they are. "The next time you ask me for a massage, I'll deliberately give hints to Shouto that you were trying to make him jealous. How about that?"
"Tch. Thanks for being useful."
The whitehaired hero rolls his eyes, there's no heat intended other than being dramatic with his grand gestures. He's silly like that. Even if he feels himself aging ten years more with this ridiculous back and forth Bakugou has with his brother.
"What's your next plan?"
He watches as the lips of a minx guised as a human curve into a playful grin. Uh oh, he doesn't like the look of that. Touya already pities his brother for enticing a vixen like Bakugou Katsuki. He just knows this bombshell won't stop until he gets what he wants.
“I'm hungry and it's been a while since I went to your house. Got any plans for a family dinner?"
Touya shakes off his head when he catches a whiff of what will happen.
"Idiots. That's what you both are."
The next day, Shouto made up his mind to apologize to Bakugou for causing him trouble. He plans to treat him to dinner, something he knows the other can't refuse.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get the memo that Bakugou can actually reject his offer.
“Sorry, I can't,” he says curtly. “I already have plans.”
“Oh,” Shouto feels like his world stopped with the blatant rejection. Palms sweaty and shoulders drooping, he probes with a question. “Can I ask where?”
Bakugou doesn't even pay him any heed as he speaks, casually dropping another surprise from his ears as he picks up his phone. A grin escapes his lips from reading the message on his screen.
“Your house. Your sister's teaching me another recipe.”
Fuyumi enjoys Bakugou's company in the kitchen. Truth be told, she enjoys it more than spending time seeing her siblings horsing around that part of their house.
Don't get the wrong idea. She loves Touya, Natsuo and Shouto to death, but their cooking skills and food preferences? Poor as shit and unhealthy as fuck, as Bakugou would like to put it. Her three brothers would rather eat cold soba everyday than try making other types of meals every once in a while. Bakugou is the only one who appreciates her new dishes or recipes and wholeheartedly tries out cooking with her.
In simpler terms, he knows his way in the kitchen. He doesn't fuck it up or makes a ruckus like his adorable siblings do.
God, she's really picking up Bakugou's potty mouth, isn't she? Even after he tries to tone it down whenever they're hanging out, his vulgarity just rubs her off.
Strangely enough, It isn't the only thing she catches a whiff of.
“Y'know, you can just talk it out of him, right?” she smiles softly, washing off the vegetables in the sink, remembering the younger man ranting off the phone call about his encounter with Shouto.
“It takes more than talking to get into his head,” he scoffs.
Fuyumi watches the commotion of Bakugou roughly grabbing the orange apron from the rack that strictly belongs to him. For a second, she tries to hold off the giggle from seeing him struggle to tie it on his own. She's used to it already.
Sighing, she turns off the faucet, wipes her hands down with her apron, and approaches the assistant like a knight coming to the rescue. Fuyumi gestures to him to turn around and she smiles in amusement with how fast he obeys. Bakugou can be cute without even trying.
“Can't you go a bit easy on him? I think you almost broke him when you said those things about our father,” she mumbles with concern, tying a knot on the apron. She finishes it off with a ribbon and once she's done, Bakugou faces her with a raised eyebrow. “He kept calling me to ask if dad's been going home later than usual.”
“Tsk. That's what he gets for being a slowpoke!” He grins deviously, chest puffed up with his arms crossed. “Eventually, one of us will break and I'll make sure I'm not it.”
“This must be the spirit of youth,” Fuyumi sighs, an exasperated yet comforting smile on her lips as she returns to her vegetables. “I don't know what else to tell you. Go have fun terrorizing my little brother.”
Shouto shouldn't be this awkward entering his own home. For goodness's sake, this is a Todoroki property! What else is there to be scared and nervous about?
His anxiety is already justified when he sees Bakugou working his way smoothly in the kitchen. Together with his mother and sister, Bakugou doesn't look out of place at all. Not even an outsider or a visitor. He looks like he belongs there. Here, in the Todoroki abode. Shouto doesn't know why that thought makes him smile. He likes the idea of having him here, so, so much.
“Shouto! I'm glad you made it,” Rei is the first to notice his presence, must be a mother's instinct, as the other two are still busy preparing and stirring the stew. “Perfect timing, go set the table, please.”
The announcement of his arrival eventually gets the designated cooks to turn heads in his direction.
As soon as their eyes meet, the youngest Todoroki isn't expecting the warmness on his face nor the thumping of his heart. God, he's so hopeless.
Shouto wants to protest, he wants to be here. To watch Katsuki cook. But he's also aware of his helplessness on this part of the house, so he'll leave it to the experts.
Once the table is set, his mother manages to gather everyone in the dining room. He's surprised to see Natsuo and Touya joining them tonight. They usually come home late from work, and when they do, both look like they're a few seconds away from passing out. By a stroke of luck, everyone's schedule seemingly matches up for dinner.
He shouldn't have finished his sentence so early on.
As the night goes by, Shouto isn't able to get a decent conversation with Bakugou around the dinner table. Every time he tries to subtly ask about his day or how he's enjoying Fuyumi’s recipes, he notices one of his family members is interrupting their bubble. Or someone will catch Bakugou’s attention and distract him from their topic.
He admits he might be clueless most of the time, but the way he's been plainly interrupted more than he imagines, it seems like they're doing it on purpose. For what reason? Shouto has absolutely no idea.
It is after dinner that he gets the confirmation that his entire family is ganging up on him.
Bakugou is bidding them goodbye when Shouto makes his move again. He decides that this time, he won't let anyone stop him from finishing even a sentence!
Guess he's biting off more than he can chew.
“Baku—”
“Katsuki-chan!”
What the hell? Shouto is too stunned to hear the screeching sound Touya just makes to even utter another word. Since when has he been calling him by first name?
He glares at the scene a few feet away from him, watching Touya run off and approach his friend.
“You didn't bring your car, Katsuki-chan? I can give you a ride.”
“Mm,” Baku—Katsuki simply nods, god, is he even allowed to think of him that way? He's too frustrated and too petty that his own brother leaps to first name basis (even if it looks one-sided) faster than him, the literal friend. “That's easier.”
It only takes a few couple of minutes for Touya to start the engine, and the howling sound makes him grit his teeth when his brother mockingly opens the car window.
“Shouto, bye-bye!”
When the vehicle is about to turn around the block, the younger Todoroki isn't able to hide his awful mood, flipping off his damn brother.
Asshole.
Everything's been pissing him off lately.
Shouto soon realizes he is at war with his own family. His nagging curiosity is eating him away since Bakugou has snobbed his morning greeting message. He usually flips him off through chats or responds curtly, but it's been hours and he hasn't heard anything from him yet.
Did something happen with him and Touya last night?
No, no, no! He can't be thinking like that.
Given the circumstances, his friend wouldn't jump at his brother like that. Besides, if there is anyone that needs to explain right now, it should be Touya!
Shouto nods promptly at his thoughts, feet already making his way to his father's office. He knows his brother is loitering there again.
With confidence and aggression booming on top of his lungs, the youngest hero opens the doors loudly.
“Touya, what did you do with Bakugou?” There, he found his culprit munching on chips and sitting idly on the couch. Shouto instantly clicked his tongue because of how annoying it is.
“You didn't know?”
He halts in his strides immediately. Worry etches on his face, throat drying up anxiously. “W-What do you mean?”
“There's a villain attack around his patrol route this morning. Dynamight has no critical injuries but is rushed to the hospital for—hey! Did you even listen—Shouto!”
In a second, it feels like everything doesn't matter in the world. All sorts of noises in his surroundings have been muted. All he can hear is the perplexing thrum of his pulse, the rush of blood on his veins and heart as he dashes to the hospital that the lobby has kindly provided.
Bakugou was in danger. He's deliberately sulking all morning over an unreplied message while he goes out there protecting the citizens as his duty! How selfish and pathetic can he be?
Shouto catches his breath, panting heavily and he feels his hand shaking terribly to twist the knob of his hospital room. From his position outside, he can somehow hear someone laughing.
He knew that voice too well.
When he turns the doorknob, he's caught a sight of Natsuo checking up Bakugou's bandages. Oh. He's so worried about Bakugou's condition that he forgets his brother works here.
A loud sigh that he seems to be holding is let out. The relief he feels warms his heart like a kickstart to a fire. "Natsu-nii, I'm glad you're the one in-charge."
"When I'm on duty, it's Doctor Natsuo to you Shouto," his brother clarifies, and turns to his patient again. "Right, Bakugou?"
Bakugou grunts in agreement, but the frown gets deeper when he realizes who else is inside the room.
“What are you doing here? Don't tell me you have left your post just to see me,” he grins teasingly and Shouto quickly feels flustered upon realizing what he has done.
He scratches the back of his neck bashfully, a beautiful baby pink fanning across his cheeks as he nods. “Yeah.”
Hearing his honesty, Bakugou somehow gets more flushed. He rolls his eyes at him and looks away. “Idiot.”
A loud, awkward chuckle breaks through the tension. Natsuo is holding back himself from saying anything more, as his gaze flicks over the two of them. “I think I'll leave you two to it. Shouto, you're not allowed to stay for long here so make it quick. Bakugou needs to rest up, okay?”
As soon as Natsuo leaves the room, Shouto silently approaches the bed. He tries to meet his friend's gaze but he seems to be resolute on spacing out at the window. He takes the seat beside the bed and silently waits for him to speak.
Bakugou rubs his face in surrender. A tired sigh goes past his lips. "I can't believe I need to be injured for you to realize you're in love with me."
The other perks up, looking clueless. "...I am?"
His glare turns darker. "Well, you aren't?"
Shouto feels a lump on his throat. He can't find it in himself to even deny the question. Before he can spill out a word, Bakugou is bombarding him with questions.
"Why rush all the way here as soon as you heard the news?"
“I…uhh…”
He scoffed, arms crossed and with a furrow on his raised brows. “Cat got your tongue? If you're just gonna stammer every second, you should consult first with the master of stammering, Deku.”
That gets his composure. Shouto tries to collect himself and takes a deep breath. “Hold on, okay? This is all new to me.”
His eyes fall in with ease at the grumpy figure sitting at the bed. There's no use pretending he isn't feeling the warmth and racing of his heart just by sneaking a glance. Is he really that stupid for him to realize it this long?
"I guess you're right," he mutters, eyes softly landing its gaze at the man in front of him. "I am in love with you, Bakugou."
Bakugou pauses. Looks and blinks at him for so long until he realizes his ears and cheeks are flushed. Cute.
Shouto feels like teasing him about it. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Whatever. Go home now!” he evades the question quickly, throwing in a pillow in his direction like a child in tantrums. “Only authorized people are allowed in here.”
“But, I haven't heard your answer yet.”
“Well, shit,” he curses under his breath, a small pout evident on his lips. “I didn't expect to receive a love confession here in the hospital.”
“Bakugou…”
“Well, if it isn't obvious already, I like you, too!”
“You do?” Shouto doesn't know if he can smile more than what he's doing right now. He can't stop the stretch of his lips. Bakugou likes him back. He likes me.
Once the discovery sets in, Shouto finds it hard to stop the cogs in his brain from working and giving him ideas. Knowing that he is loved is pretty much a big motivation.
“Can I take you out for dinner?”
Bakugou visibly flinches. “Bastard, I'm in bandages. If you try anything, I'm gonna blast you off.”
“Not soon, then,” he takes the rejection quite well but for him, it only means rescheduling their plans. He's a man on a mission today. “I just want to reserve a date with you.”
The sentence earns a curious glance from Bakugou, his lips turning up into a cheeky grin.
“Oh, now you're acting fast? I don't get you at all.”
“Well,” he sighs, clearly frustrated when he realizes the reason for his annoyances for the past few days. “With the way my family is acting these days, I'm afraid you're gonna run off with them.”
“Ha! Serves you right, dumbass!”
“Ugh, Bakugou, don't do that to me again,” he sulks, resting his head on the other's lap. “I don't like that Touya says your first name first.”
Bakugou smiles at his petty comeback, almost petting his hair to console him. “In his defense, the blue-eyed freak has only said it twice.”
“Okay, well,” Shouto fixes his posture, clears his throat and begins chanting, “Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki—”
“What the fuck are you doing?” The uncharacteristic giggle he lets out doesn't come off unnoticed to his sharp ears.
Shouto smiles, realizing how much he adores watching Katsuki be silly as much as making him laugh. “I've said your name more times now than Touya did.”
“Fucking hell. Why??” Katsuki sighs, throws his head back, and gazes at the ceiling. Out of intrigue, Shouto also glances upward, wondering who he is talking to. “Just why must it be him?”
“Who are you screaming at?”
“Get out,” he blurts out, gesturing a shoo-ing motion, as if he's a stray cat he picks up on the street. “We'll talk once I'm out of here!”
“Ah, you really know how to play with a man's heart,” he says with all the fake sadness he can muster. Then, as if he hasn't had enough, he rests his head again on Katsuki's lap. He peers over his lashes enticingly. “I'll stay here and watch over you. Natsuo will have to drag me to the hallway if they want to get rid of me.”
This time, Katsuki strokes his hair gently. A smile easily captures his lips. “Silly spoiled kid. You know that I'm getting discharged in an hour, right?”
“No, I may have overreacted.”
His answer instantly earns a chuckle. Shouto watches in awe as his eyes form little half-moons and crinkling in delight. In this space, nothing else seems to matter aside from Katsuki's happiness.
“Stay by my side for the next couple of hours then, Shouto.”
With fondness in his gaze, he holds his hand and squeezes softly. “Just a few hours? I'd like to stay longer than that, Katsuki.”