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“Come on, Bakugou, it’s just a game. Are you chicken or somethin’?”
If there’s one thing that Katsuki hates, it’s parties. If there’s one thing he hates more than parties, it’s his friends thinking that goading him will get him to do what they want.
To be fair, it usually works, but there isn’t a goddamn person here he cares to swap spit with. He gets that they just graduated, it’s exciting or whatever, but is a make-out game necessary to celebrate that?
“Fuck you, Drooly. I’m not playing your gross ass game.”
Kaminari sighs, irritation etched on his face as he scribbles something on a card before shoving it into the garishly decorated ‘make-out box’.
Kaminari and Kirishima’s shitty apartment is filled to the brim with people from classes 3-A, 3-B, and even kids from other departments that Katsuki has never seen before. Despite the sea of people, he can pick out Todoroki, standing with his friends, looking as bored as ever. At least they can relate on that front.
The last year of school came with a lot of changes, his and Todoroki’s budding friendship being one of them. He still grates on Katsuki’s nerves with his oversharing, his hard-to-read face, and blunt commentary, but sometimes—
“If you don’t put your name in the box, then you don’t get to smooch anyone,” Kirishima says with a grin, nudging him, following Katsuki’s gaze.
“The fuck are you getting at?” Katsuki snaps, but despite his anger, his face feels warm. Must be the the excessive amount of body heat around him.
Kirishima shakes his head, his grin slipping into something that almost looks piteous. It takes a considerable amount of effort to not throw his drink in Kirishima’s face.
The make-out box is weirdly successful— everywhere Katsuki turns there is someone going at it, turning his disgust into exasperation with each pair he discovers. He manages to find some peace in the kitchen, the one room where he’s safe from couples sucking face—
The moment does not last long.
“What do you want?” Katsuki asks, irritable at the interruption that comes sauntering into the kitchen.
Todoroki stands in front of him with an unreadable expression, then pulls out a card that has Katsuki’s name on it in Kaminari’s handwriting.
More than anything, he’s surprised that Todoroki is actually participating. He doesn’t strike Katsuki as the type to play make-out games. A hot, itchy feeling begins to simmer underneath his skin at the idea of Todoroki picking someone else’s name, but it must be the alcohol getting to his head.
Katsuki is ready to dismiss this whole game entirely, then punch out Kaminari for good measure, but despite the straight face, there is a challenge fixed in Todoroki’s eyes that gives him pause. He smirks, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall, definitely not wound up as tight as a coil. Definitely keeping his cool.
“You really dug through that box to find me, huh? Desperate much?”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Todoroki responds, his voice deadpan.
Katsuki sneers, pushing himself off the wall, stepping towards Todoroki. His palms feel sweaty.
“You’re the one that came to find me.”
Todoroki stares him down, stoic face slipping a fraction. Katsuki swears that he sees him swallow nervously before Todoroki’s hand comes to the side of Katsuki’s face. His lungs feel like they’re constricting when Todoroki lunges forward to crash their mouths together.
This isn’t a kiss or even a proper make-out, but an attack. Todoroki is taking offense, demanding a fight, and Katsuki has never been one to turn down a fight.
Todoroki’s hands hold Katsuki’s face, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to the intensity with which he kisses, with a passion and determination Katsuki has only seen him give on the battlefield, even if it’s a little clumsy. Katsuki’s known for years that Todoroki has not held back in anything he does since their disastrous first fight at the sports festival, and it’s no different now, when he pours everything he has into this kiss.
It makes Katsuki’s head spin, dizzy— he holds onto Todoroki’s waist to ground himself, but it only brings Todoroki closer, pressing Katsuki into the wall.
Todoroki’s lips press fervently against Katsuki’s, hands grasping him like Todoroki’s afraid Katsuki’ll disappear, like this isn’t real, like this is much more than a stupid party game.
It’s a little scary, how easy it is too fall into this. A little nerve-racking to learn that, for once, Katsuki does not care if he wins or loses this fight— this just needs to last as long as it can. His heart tugs in hope that maybe, there’s something more to this—
A wolf whistle is what snaps Katsuki back to reality.
Todoroki pulls away with a gasp, his face flushed, eyes dazed, lips swollen— invitingly so, and it takes every ounce of restraint to not dive in again. He looks vulnerable in that moment, eyes wide and for once, easy to read— but the expression disappears quickly, replaced with same damn stoic mask Katsuki is familiar with.
“Yeah,” Todoroki says, clearing his throat, straightening his hair, his clothes. “That was fine,” he says in a tone so blasé it’s as if he was referring to the weather, or homework, instead of one of the best make-outs of Todoroki’s stupid, miserable life.
The bastard has the nerve to walk away.
“What the f— fine? I’m fucking amazing!” Katsuki shouts at Todoroki’s retreating back. He doesn’t even turn around; doesn’t acknowledge him at all. It stings more than Katsuki wants to admit.
This is a declaration of war.
Katsuki storms out of the kitchen, eyes wildly searching for Kaminari and his stupid box at this stupid party—
“Where’s that shitty fucking box?”
“Wow, you’re eager,” Kaminari says, amused.
“I have a score to settle,” Katsuki says, snatching the box from Kaminari and begins pulling names out, ignoring Kirishima’s squacks of protest and Kaminari’s admonishments for not playing the game correctly― until he finds it. Todoroki’s name. The handwriting looks suspiciously like Deku’s scratchy-ass scrawl.
His friends look at one another when the name is pulled. They must’ve developed fucking ESP, because no words are exchanged― they just nod.
Kirishima shrugs, slyly winks at Katsuki. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
Katsuki has no idea what the fuck that means, too preoccupied by vengeance— only vengeance, no other motivator here— to care, shoving past partygoers, searching for the familiar two-toned mop of Todoroki. He spots Deku. He would know where the bastard is.
“Where the fuck’s Todoroki?”
“Balcony,” Deku answers quickly, effectively cutting off Four-Eyes from whatever lecture about manners he was about to go off on.
“Good luck, Kacchan!” Deku yells after him as he stomps towards the balcony. What the fuck is up with everyone with the winking and nudging?
Katsuki slams open the sliding door, jolting Todoroki from whatever brooding bullshit he was occupied with. For once, his stupid, stoic face registers a different expression: shock.
“Bakugou. What’re you—”
Katsuki slaps the card on Todorki’s chest. He takes it with a knitted brow, pressing his lips together as he reads his name.
“Did you— you picked my n— mmph.”
Katsuki’s hand reaches to hold Todoroki by the nape of his neck, pulling him forward to shut him up.
Todoroki’s response is instantaneous, hands clutching Katsuki’s sides. This kiss has less urgency but no less fervency than the last; a slower pace, like they’re searching for something, something that until now has maybe been unspoken, like forbidden territory that they’ve finally stepped foot in.
Todoroki breaks, kissing Katsuki any place he can— his jaw, his cheek, his nose; something sweetly intimate, with a softness that contradicts the steady, heavy hammering in Katsuki’s chest.
“I’m not just fine,” Katsuki croaks out, almost forgetting what started this. “I’m fucking amazing.”
“Yeah, I know,” Todoroki says softly, and it feels like Katsuki’s face is melting, burning hot from second-hand embarrassment at Todoroki’s too honest, oversharing approach to things.
“You’re embarrassing.”
“Do— do you want to leave?” Todoroki asks with the same vulnerability and openness that was on his face earlier in the night. “To talk, I mean. I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while—”
“Yeah,” Katsuki breathes out. This skirting around each other has been happening for a while, hasn’t it?
“Yeah, fuck this place—” He grabs Todoroki’s hand, pulling him through the sliding door, back into the bedroom, passing the living room and his dumbstruck friends.
“Holy shit. I can’t believe that actually worked,” Katsuki hears Kaminari say as he and Todoroki leave, and again— he has no idea what this development means. There’s something different about the way Todoroki looks at him now, with a fondness that Katsuki has never really noticed before.
Todoroki squeezes his hand. “You really dug through that box to find my name, huh?”
“Yeah, so fucking what?”
The awestruck look on Todoroki’s face is enough for Katsuki to chalk up this victory as his.