Just thinking about Todoroki seeing his classmates get together and yearning for something similar but the only person who isn't taken that he mildly likes is a certain spiky blonde who has displayed no physical interest in anyone.
It's easy with everyone else. He's picked up the signs. Blushing faces, stammers, longing glances. Most of it culminates into a mutual courtship but for the most part, some of it fades and wanes into the next crush.
He doesn't really get it.
He wonders if Bakugou doesn't get it either.
Maybe that's why he doesn't turn red unless he's screaming and why he doesn't preen himself like a bird when someone specific comes in the room. He never stammers. He's too confident. He sweats but he always sweats.
The more Todoroki watches him, the more he can tell that Bakugou is pretty. He knows what pretty is - what other people say it is at least - and Bakugou fits.
But it's somewhat more than that, isn't it? It's not just his face, it's his voice. There's a deep melody to it even it's only heard when he's hollering. And he has nice hands. Sure, they're calloused and tough, but always clean, deliberate black fingernail polish on his nails.
He smells good too. Strong. Like caramel.
He's never been one for sweets but Todoroki is always a little tempted to lick him just to see if it is anyway.
And his hair looks stiff but he's grazed it enough times to know how soft it really is. Uraraka is obsessed with Midoriya's curls and, if Todoroki transposes that onto someone else, he understands why. There's this forbidden element in Bakugou's whole stature. Off limits to everyone.
And he's pretty.
And Todoroki likes him in all his screeching brash honesty and aggressive manic grins and sparking popping hands and swears so dirty his sister would plug his mouth with soap
"Take a picture, Icy Hot," he seethes and Todoroki blinks out of his staring. Bakugou stares him down. "It'll last longer."
He cocks his head and then does so. Bakugou's face burns and he swats Todoroki away, snapping at him with no real heat. Todoroki bounces back and leans against the counter again.
Bakugou is always focused when he cooks. Can he blame him for staring?
"We should date."
Bakugou's hand goes so white around his spoon, for a moment Todoroki is certain he's going to snap the wood in half. "Hah?"
Todoroki pockets his phone. "Everyone else is dating."
Bakugou rolls his eyes. "So, what? You're a fucking sheep now, Two-tone?"
"No." With his eyes, he traces the outline of Bakugou's arm - the way his muscles twitch under his skin.
"You sure fucking sound like it," Bakugou mutters. "Everyone else is dating so we should. Ha!" He snorts - an ugly sound if it were on anyone else. "As if."
"Do you not like boys?"
Bakugou waps at him with the spoon again. Todoroki flees to the other side of the kitchen, spicy red sauce stinging his wrist. He licks it off his skin and resists the urge to hiss. It's really hot.
Bakugou watches him with a careful eye before turning back to his food. "Who I do and don't like is none of your business, Weak Tongue."
That's a new one. Todoroki chews on the edge of his tongue to regain any sensation that has now been dulled before answering.
"You like me."
Bakugou looks a second from blowing off his head. A usual reaction when Todoroki says they're friends. It's been a year of it though and his reactions have toned down.
He doesn't scream denials anymore.
That should count for something.
"I tolerate you," Bakugou snaps back. "I tolerate all of you."
Well, that's not true. He's not the opposite of who he used to be but he's changed. He doesn't growl during rescue training as much as he used to. He teams up with the others effortlessly - even if he still grumbles and shouts at them. And, although testy about it, he does let others take the lead when needed. Infrequently and only a couple people - Midoriya, Iida, and Momo.
Everyone else is usually relegated to "convince me and maybe I'll listen" but even then, it's more than what it was.
He stretches his sleep schedule on weekends to hang out with the class and his own little group. He helps with studies.
He even cooks when asked - although it does take a little praise to convince him but it's very rarely a lie when it's done.
"You like me," Todoroki corrects and he ducks when Bakugou aims a small burst at his head.
The smell of burnt hair singes above him but he pats his head and feels nothing on fire and so counts himself lucky. He took out the entire top of Kirishima's hair once. Although he looked quite nice when Mina evened it all out. And it seemed the connection over hairstyling is what brought them together in the first place.
"Say it again," Bakugou hisses, "and next time I won't miss."
He's still prickly about friendship but if Todoroki cared about that, he wouldn't be doing this.
"We should date," he repeats, taking a tentative step forward.
Midoriya's self-sacrificing tendencies must be rubbing off on him.
"I don't date extras," Bakugou says.
Todoroki pauses. "How do I stop being an extra then?"
There's a pinched look to Bakugou's face that screams "don't kill him, don't kill him, don't kill him" and it's presence makes him warm.
Something to work through later but for now he settles into that feeling and steps closer and closer until he's pressed into Bakugou's personal space.
Bakugou cuts his eyes at him. "Back up." Todoroki does. By an inch or so and Bakugou seethes. "Annoying," he mutters.
But he doesn't tell Todoroki to back off anymore. So he hovers.
The silence isn't palpable but it is tense. It cuts around Todoroki's throat like a noose, attached visibly to the flexing fist at Bakugou's side.
Bakugou stirs his sauce without word and Todoroki hovers nearby. His heart beats with every thump of the spoon against the pan. It's a near quiet sound but in the silence it feels all too audible.
Maybe this wasn't his smartest thought.
"Why do you want to date anyway?" Bakugou says at last. "Because, as is fucking obvious, if I did date, I wouldn't date a fucking sheep."
"I'm not a sheep," Todoroki mutters. He wrings his wrist. "Everyone else just seems so happy."
"So? You need to do what everyone else is doing?" Bakugou smacks him, a short shot from the back of his hand up against his chin. His head knocks back but Bakugou keeps going. "That's a sheep."
"I think it would be nice to see why."
Bakugou snorts as he turns off the heat. The sauce is bubbling and he gives it a final stir before spooning it into a still hot bowl of rice. "Get a fucking clue and maybe I'll think about it."
He drags over the other bowls he'd laid out for his so-called squad and spoons the rest of the sauce into them. "And ask me better next time, idiot." He cuts his eyes at him, a ferocity in them that sends a chill down Todoroki's spine. "I don't take to demands."
"It was more of a suggestion."
"Do I look like I give a shit?"
He did not.
Todoroki shifts. "No," he says. "That's what I like about you." Bakugou pauses, his shoulders tensing. "You don't care about things like that. It's weirdly calming."
Bakugou snorts. "You sound like my old man." His eyes cut him again. "I'm not gonna date my old man, Icy Hot."
"I wouldn't want you to." Todoroki reaches up, grabs a box of rice crackers out of the cabinet and holds it to his chest with both hands. "Enjoy your dinner, Bakugou."
He's halfway out of the kitchen when a fork smacks him in the back of the head. "Oi, dumbass."
Bakugou points at one of the bowls. "You can't live on rice crackers alone, idiot."
He brushes past Todoroki with a rough push, his free hand hot against Todoroki's skin. Their fingers just barely glide across each other. Todoroki stills, catching Bakugou's eyes as he grins, all teeth bared. Then Bakugou turns and shouts out into the living room for his "incapable extras" to go feed themselves.
Todoroki is gone before they can even notice he grabbed a bowl for himself.
35 notes
·
View notes