Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a Thursday morning when, dripping rainwater onto the tiled floor of his work, Bakugou realized that, against all odds, Todoroki was… kind of hot.

Bakugou had second shift that day (his least favorite), and a brief sun shower chased him and a few other mid-morning stragglers inside the gleaming Endeavor Agency atrium. He hadn’t brought an umbrella because umbrellas were basically useless and he didn’t like to be encumbered; and he hadn’t bothered to check the weather because the skies were clear; and now his boots were soaked because the world was never fucking fair, was it?

Todoroki was there because of course he was there – he was always there. No matter how much he complained about the association with his father, he was practically chained to the agency by some twisted sense of duty. He’d been caught in the rain as well, and now his stupid bi-color hair was plastered to his forehead, cheeks pink from the unexpected jog to get inside, collared shirt stuck to his chest and shoulders. He was scowling at the floor as he shook little droplets of water from his hands with a nauseatingly foppish flick of the wrist.

He glanced up and for only a moment his familiar grey and blue eyes met Bakugou’s. He raised his eyebrows and offered a wan smile that was barely more than a tilt of his lips. Bakugou couldn’t help but think that it was a very Todoroki kind of expression – an acknowledgment without giving anything away. An offer of friendliness even though he knew Bakugou would just huff and posture and stomp away.

Except that – despite his irritation – he didn’t huff and posture and stomp away. He felt glued to the spot and oddly warm in the face. When he didn’t immediately look away, Todoroki’s expression shifted to soft surprise, his smile widened, and then he winked. He fucking winked. Who the hell winked at anyone these days? What was it supposed to mean? Was Todoroki making fun of him or something?

Bakugou growled and popped off just enough of his Quirk to dry his hands and make the small crowd jump. The quiet titters of shock from the extras made him feel slightly better. He turned on his heel and clomped off towards the elevators, not bothering to look back at his deeply weird associate. He looked pissed off enough that no one joined him in the elevator, which gave him time to come to the very unfortunate realization that yeah, okay, fucking fine, Todoroki was attractive.

It wasn’t new information, or particularly surprising information, it was just annoying. Of course Todoroki was hot. He was a pro hero. A certain level of physical fitness and public appeal came along with the job. Todoroki’s occasional modeling gigs were the topic of frequent discussion among fans (as well as their former classmates, which was kind of gross, in his honest opinion). It wasn’t any kind of fucking secret. Every pro did photoshoots now and then – hell, even fucking Deku had some contract with Under Armour. Bakugou had accidentally checked out his ass in tiny little black athletic shorts on a billboard once before realizing exactly who it was in the ad, and that had been one of the most mortifying experiences of his entire life. He’d seriously considered throwing himself into the river for good measure afterwards, but the river was dirty, and the self-flagellation wasn’t all that appealing after a few calming breaths.

So. Yeah. Noticing that Todoroki had a nice face or whatever shouldn’t have fazed him.

Bakugou was gay, for fuck’s sake. Sure, he’d experimented with women a couple of times because he was, you know, open-minded or whatever. But those experiences really only reinforced that he liked dick. He was surrounded by attractive, fit men nearly 24/7 and he barely noticed it. He had enough guys trying to jump on his cock on dating apps and social media that when the urge struck, he didn’t have trouble getting his dick wet. It wasn’t Todoroki’s level of objective attractiveness that bothered him, it was just that he had never given a shit about it before, and now all of the sudden he was hot under the collar about a goddamn wink? It was stupid. It was annoying.

Bakugou didn’t know if he really had a type. He was more of a “I know it when I see it” kind of guy, and if knowing it and seeing it tended to skew a more towards pretty boys and less towards bears and gym bros then that was nobody’s business. He could appreciate – on a detached, purely academic level – that Todoroki was attractive. He’d just never cared about it before. He’d always put his coworker (he still refused to call him a friend, even if that’s what they were most days) and his myriad of childhood traumas firmly in the ‘not my circus, not my fucking monkeys’ category.

Maybe he just needed to get laid. Work was brutal – it always was, that was how he liked it – and he hadn’t gotten a real day off in too long. He wasn’t particularly motivated to pursue a social life in the first place. He didn’t prioritize hooking up (or worse, dating, fucking gag) any more than he prioritized socializing, which was to say… not much. Poker nights with the squad and the occasional hang-outs with Ei or Izuku were more than enough. He tried to think of the last time he’d fucked anyone and came up blank.

It must not have been very memorable.

With a heavy sigh, Bakugou opened up his phone and begrudgingly reactivated a couple of dating apps. It was a chore with a briefly satisfying payoff – kind of like meal prep or scheduling regular haircuts. He’d get a decent fuck (maybe two, if the stars aligned) and feel better. He stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for his desk, grimacing at the mess on Deku’s as he passed. A few sidekicks were chattering nearby and he quickly thumbed his phone closed. He didn’t need any fucking extras gossiping about him perusing Grindr at work.

The problem was, Todoroki was just kind of there a lot of the time.

He was there at the agency. He was there at the bar nerding out with Izuku about some new support gear after work. He was there at every impromptu U-A class reunion Bakugou got dragged along to. He was there as an emergency responder when a storm knocked out the power to an entire ward, including a large hospital, and dutifully helped all the tottering old and sick people evacuate like it was his job or something. When Todoroki unexpectedly popped up at the only coffee shop he could reliably stand within a 5-kilometre radius, Bakugou just turned right around and left without ordering anything.

And he was still fucking hot.

His stupid trendy haircut was hot – still weirdly split down the middle, but a little shorter now but still longer on top, with that kind of ‘artfully mussed’ pop star style that Bakugou despised. His ugly face was hot – the dark red scar clashing just enough with the rest of his pale, creamy complexion to highlight his perfect skin, broad jawline, and long, delicate nose. His mismatched eyes were hot – whether they were intensely focused on fighting some unlucky villain, drooping sleepily as he perused agency emails, or offering one of his bored, borderline patronizing stares, like he knew something Bakugou didn’t. Which he definitely didn’t. Bakugou knew everything and Todoroki was just a nepo baby blessed with a stupidly powerful set of Quirks.

And yeah, okay, fucking fine, his body was hot, too. That was just par for the course. Blindingly obvious. Tall, toned, muscular without looking awkwardly jacked, just the right amount of scrapes and scars to make it clear that he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty with pro hero work, despite his privileged background.

Not that Bakugou spent a lot of time looking.

He really didn’t.

Fuck.

Bakugou couldn’t help but glare whenever he saw Todoroki these days. It was mind-numbingly frustrating. He was Bakugou fucking Katsuki, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, top ten hero and a fucking catch if he didn’t mind saying so. He didn’t need to be simping over Endeavor’s golden boy like everyone else and their goddamn mother. He spotted a cologne ad on the way to the train that featured Todoroki front and center, glancing casually to the side to show his unscarred cheek, graceful fingers rolling up one sleeve, too-long bangs partially obscuring his sharp profile, and Bakugou felt out of breath.

Even getting laid didn’t help. He hit it off pretty easily with a chatty little twink with whirls of dark blue hair that made clouds appear in the air whenever he laughed. He had a cute face so Bakugou let him suck him off at his apartment, but when combed his fingers through the man’s hair and met his watering silver eyes, his traitor brain was reminded of Todoroki’s grey stare and he came too soon. He felt sort of bad about it (whatever, it was rude), so he slapped the guy’s ass a few times and gave him a passable hand-job before kicking him out.

He deleted the dating apps. Clearly sexual frustration wasn’t the real problem. It was something about Todoroki specifically that was messing with him. He just needed to figure out what it was and then he could fix it permanently. He was pissed off enough about the whole thing that he was giving Deku a hard time and he wasn’t even the problem (for once). It took accidentally blasting the Symbol of Peace through a few layers of sheetrock during a routine training exercise for Bakugou to realize that he was reverting to some shitty teenage behavior and no one deserved that, not even Deku. Not even Todoroki.

Izuku, of course, forgave him immediately, like a fucking chump. That trainwreck of a man couldn’t hold a grudge if his life depended on it.

“Sorry, Deku,” he grumbled, barely audible, hovering nearby as one of the on-call medics patched up his hero partner and checked for signs of a concussion. The healer curled her lip slightly at Bakugou’s presence while she focused on mending a deep scrape above Izuku’s brow.

“Ah, that’s okay, Kacchan,” Izuku replied brightly. “Accidents happen.”

“Not to me,” Bakugou huffed. He wanted to argue that it wasn’t really an accident – he was just pissed off and going too hard and taking it out on Izuku without really meaning to.

Okay, yeah, maybe that sounded a lot like an accident.

“Everything okay?” Izuku asked cautiously.

“Just got some stuff on my mind,” he replied tersely.

“Hm, you’ve been working too hard,” Izuku supplied, stupid doe eyes going hazy when the healer used her Quirk to correct a cracked rib.

“Maybe,” Bakugou relented.

The medic let them both go with only a moderate amount of scolding about professional behavior and stewardship of agency resources. She was a pain in the ass but good at her job, so Bakugou huffed and puffed and let himself be talked down to. Izuku beamed and promised they’d both be more careful in the future, as though it was in any way his fault. They headed to the locker rooms and Izuku dared to shoulder him playfully in the hallway. It was a testament to their friendship that he didn’t end up thrown through another wall.

“Maybe you’ll get a chance to relax at Denki and Kyouka’s dinner this weekend,” he offered hopefully. “You know, have some fun!”

“Like hell I’m going to that,” Bakugou harumphed back, even though he knew he was going – it was already in his calendar. Mina would never let him live it down if he bailed.

“Uh huh,” Izuku replied impishly. He knew Bakugou’s tricks too well these days to believe him.

Even so, Bakugou knew better than to expect to have fun. His idea of fun was getting in 90 minutes (including cardio) at the gym with Kirishima and then going to bed early. But Ei had been squirrelly as fuck for no goddamn reason recently, so even that wasn’t as satisfying as usual. Pikachu and Ears weren’t calling it an engagement party because they were allergic to being normal – saying marriage was a tool of the patriarchy or something and they wanted to be different – but Bakugou saw it for what it was.

Maybe that was part of the problem, too. All of his so-called friends were suddenly doing stupid shit like getting married or having kids instead of focusing on becoming the best heroes they could be like they were supposed to, like they’d all agreed on back at U-A. Worst of all, they seemed fucking happy about it, and that made him feel like he was probably missing out on some kind of… quintessential human experience or what the fuck ever. Bakugou hated feeling like he was falling behind in anything.

“I was gonna buy that Present Mic bar set for them,” Izuku hummed, thoughtfully tapping a finger to his chin.

“Fuck off, they specifically said no gifts,” Bakugou spat back. “That shit is way overpriced, anyway!”

“But it’s so cool!” Izuku whined. “It plays a custom playlist based on the ingredients you mix!”

Bakugou snorted, scowled, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Whatever, I’ll go halfsies with you,” he muttered.

Izuku pumped his fist in silent glee and Bakugou dutifully ignored it.

So yeah. He’d missed out on the number one spot again (fucking Lemillion, that smiley asshole), all of his friends were moving on without him, he had the worst boner in the world for Todoroki fucking Shouto and now he had to go to a party. Basically life couldn’t get any worse.

He decided to get drunk about it.

He realized, of course, that it was… not the healthiest way to cope with things. But it was a way and that was all that mattered at the moment. He could figure out the rest later. When he was drunk already, preferably.

Denki and Jirou dragged them all to a show downtown at some warehouse – exactly the kind of thing Bakugou absolutely despised. It was EDM, which he barely considered music, and crowded, and flashy. But he couldn’t deny that it was (maybe, just a little bit) nice to see his friends having fun and acting like fools, the way they all used to do before their lives were consumed by work and bills and other adulthood bullshit.

Sue him, it was nostalgic. At least the drinks were strong.

The only other saving grace of the night was that Todoroki was blessedly missing. Bakugou definitely did not want to see what his stupid, perfect face looked like bathed in neon and smoky haze, writhing with the countless other bodies on the packed dancefloor, flushed and sweat-slick and—

Yeah, he needed more to drink.

He let Eijirou buy him a few shots and try very hard to get him to dance (hilarious, impossible), but Bakugou wasn’t making that same mistake twice. There was already some dumb, blurry video of him dancing at their enormous graduation party from years ago. It circulated every now and then and made him want to explode his own head. Instead, he watched Izuku desperately try to snag a dance with Shinsou and laughed to himself when the nerd tripped over his own doofy red sneakers. By the time the happy couple moved the party to some dingy izakaya around the corner, Bakugou was feeling buzzed and incredibly amused by everything, his rough edges and latent horniness soothed by liquor.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, his dick couldn’t decide) that was when Todoroki finally decided to show up. He made some quiet, self-aggrandizing excuse about being stuck on a job, but Denki, Jirou, and the rest of the group were quick to forgive his absence. Bakugou thought he looked a little worn out – grey smudges under his eyes, a faint hint of stubble at the corner of his jaw, and a certain tightness to his shoulders were all that gave it away. Not that Bakugou was looking. He was just observant. He cursed inwardly.

“Here, you gotta catch up with us!” Denki slurred, shoving two glasses of crystal-clear shochu into Todoroki’s empty hands. To Bakugou’s great surprise, their new addition downed both drinks in quick succession, not even bothering with a chaser.

“Thanks,” Todoroki’s low, textured voice was audible even underneath the unintelligible din of the group. Denki whooped in joy, Izuku urged Todoroki to have something to eat as well, and Bakugou told himself he didn’t care about anything that was happening.

Against his better judgment, he was actually having a good time – or he had been – and now he’d have to be on guard all night instead. On guard against himself. He figured his best course of action was ignoring Todoroki’s existence entirely, but he’d never been very good at that, and it was near impossible when the half-and-half bastard was wearing ripped black denim and a thin, oversized pullover that kept slipping off of one shoulder. The alcohol Denki had plied him with made his pale skin flushed, visible through the v-neck of the sweater. He was all smiles to the group despite his obvious exhaustion and it pissed Bakugou off to watch him pretend. He tried not to scowl, he really did, but he figured he might have failed at seeming neutral and unbothered when Izuku prodded him softly in the side.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“’m fine,” Bakugou grumbled back.

“Are you sure?” Izuku pressed. “Because your face got all… scary.”

“My face always looks like this,” Bakugou insisted.

Izuku’s brow furrowed and Bakugou could see the little gears turning in his friend’s drunk brain as his eyes slid towards Todoroki’s figure at the other end of the table, trying to put the pieces together despite the pink wash of alcohol on his cheeks.

“Stop thinking so hard,” he tried to snap, but it came out soft at the end. He pressed his palm to the center of the other man’s forehead like he meant to blast his face off, but Izuku just laughed.

“You’re acting so weird, Kacchan,” he slurred right back. It almost made Bakugou smile. Almost. Or at least it did, until Todoroki tried to slide onto the bench next to him like he owned the place.

Bakugou’s entire body tensed and he fought off the urge to shove everyone out of the booth out of pure spite. Starting a wrestling match was probably not on the schedule for the hipster duo’s not-engagement party, although it was tempting. He glanced to the side, lip curled in frustration, and watched Todoroki open his mouth to say fuck-all. Instead of letting him speak, Bakugou stood up immediately and tried to extricate himself from the group.

“Gonna get some air,” he growled, stepping over the bench with only minimal clumsiness. Fuck off, he was tipsy but not falling over. Never falling over. He wouldn’t survive the shame of being fall-down drunk in front of—

His arm broke out in goosebumps where it barely brushed against Todoroki’s shoulder, only solidifying his need to get the fuck out of there. He heard some people whining for him to stay – Izuku, maybe – but he was already stomping out of the restaurant. He didn’t stop until he was in the alley behind the izakaya, where he paused to lean his back up against the rough exterior of the building and let out a slow breath. The late summer air was pleasantly temperate, marred only by the faint stench of city life and the muffled laughter of drunkards. He just needed a moment to gather himself, to mold himself back into a person who didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone, much less Todoroki fucking Shouto.

Regrettably, the universe had other plans.

The back door swung open and Todoroki stood for a moment in the bright threshold, looking impossibly handsome and kind of annoyed.

“What the fuck do you want, Freezerburn?” Bakugou heard himself spit out, his usual attitude only slightly sanded down by the late hour and liquor.

“I want to know what your problem is,” Todoroki shot right back, letting the door slam shut behind him.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Oh yeah? Really?” Todoroki prompted.

“Yeah, really,” Bakugou said coldly. “It’s none of your fucking business anyway.”

“Well, I’ve had a really shitty day and you’re not making it any better, so I’m making it my business,” Todoroki snapped. He had the absolute gall to step forward, and Bakugou snorted in contempt to keep himself from either fleeing the scene or moving closer.

“You’re not my fucking boss,” he spat.

“Not yet,” Todoroki replied simply. It was the wrong thing to say.

Bakugou saw red. Seriously, white-hot rage clouded his vision at the reminder that Todoroki was due to take over the Endeavor Agency at any time, effectively making him Bakugou’s boss, purely through the good fortune of breeding.

“I’d rather choke on my own fist,” Bakugou hissed. The other man tilted his head to the side, puzzled by the response.

“I… don’t know what you mean by that,” he muttered, equal parts irritated and confused.

“I mean eat shit and die, asshole,” Bakugou clarified. “You’re never gonna be above me.” It came out sharp and crisp and threatening despite the drinks making his mouth feel fuzzy.

Distantly, Bakugou recognized that this was probably a bad turn of events. Arguing was bad because now Todoroki was paying way too much attention to him, and he was all up in his face, and they were alone together in the dim light of the alley, and he still looked hot as fuck. Arguably hotter than usual because he was kind of pissed off. That was always a good look on him.

Wait – always?

Anyway, it made him want to pick a fight for old times’ sake, maybe rough up his stupid, perfect face a little.

“What did you say?” Todoroki asked, breaking through the lustful haze in Bakugou’s mind. He realized that shit, he must have said some of that stuff in his head out loud.

“I didn’t say anything, fuck off,” he snapped defensively.

To Bakugou’s surprise and slight disappointment, rather than continuing to escalate, Todoroki’s brow furrowed and his shoulders sagged. He was still way too close, but some of the anger bled out of his voice.

“Listen, if I… if I did something to piss you off, just tell me so I can fix it,” he mumbled.

Fuck, now he was ruining things by looking kind of sad and assuming it was his fault somehow, rather than Bakugou’s out of control libido trying to ruin his life.

“It’s nothing. You didn’t do anything,” Bakugou muttered. Just existed and had the nerve to be his type somehow.

“Then what the fuck is your problem with me, huh?” Todoroki pressed. Despite the harsh language – which, that was another revelation, Todoroki cursing around him – the question felt tired and desperate.

“Ha? I don’t have a fucking problem…” Bakugou grumbled, prickling again with defensiveness.

“But you do,” Todoroki pushed. “You’ve been giving me dirty looks for weeks and I’m sick of it. Did I do something to piss you off? We work together, this isn’t high school, so are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Bakugou must have been tipsier than he thought, because he could only huff out a wobbly laugh and snort, “Huh. Dirty looks.”

He was surprised by his own response, and apparently so was Todoroki, because he gave him a look of pure confusion. Bakugou looked away, hoping to duck back inside the izakaya quickly, not because he was embarrassed or anything, but because he really, really didn’t want to have this fucking conversation. Unfortunately, Todoroki was a stubborn asshole and grabbed him by the shoulder, flipping him around to face his scowl, and fisted a hand in the front of Bakugou’s shirt.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he hissed.

“Well, I’m not interested in talking,” Bakugou snapped back. With Todoroki up in his face again, he couldn’t help but scan his stupidly handsome features, his eyes – traitors that they were – hesitating briefly on the other man’s lips before immediately course-correcting to meet Todoroki’s gaze. Todoroki frowned, two-toned eyes narrowing for a moment, and Bakugou broke out in a cold sweat because fuck, he’d definitely noticed that.

There was a moment of excruciating limbo.

“You have to tell me if I’m reading this completely wrong,” Todoroki muttered.

“What do you mean by—”

And then Todoroki kissed him. Todoroki kissed him. That’s not how it was supposed to fucking go! Bakugou froze, brain short-circuiting for a moment because holy shit. Todoroki was kissing him. It wasn’t hesitant, exactly, but it was soft – like he just wanted to try it out or something – and Bakugou kind of fucking loved it. Except then he pulled away, and Bakugou immediately wanted to murder someone.

“Shit, sorry,” Todoroki mumbled. He quickly released the front of Bakugou’s shirt and took a shaky step back, looking absolutely mortified. “I must be drunk. I really thought you—”

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize, asshole.”

Todoroki only had time to make an unfinished sound of surprise before Bakugou grabbed him, jerking their bodies back together. He reached up and cupped the back of Todoroki’s head – yeah, up, because that fucker had always been a little taller than him and it was annoying as hell – then slotted their mouths together, thoroughly enjoying the sound of shock that escaped through the other man’s parted lips.

While Todoroki’s mouth was open, Bakugou took the opportunity to run his tongue across his bottom lip and bite down, clacking their teeth together unpleasantly. He felt the other man jolt in his hands, but he didn’t pull away, he just made deep grumbling sound like he disapproved. Bakugou smirked against his lips and nipped at the corner of his mouth. He probably should have pulled back already to breathe or check in or… something. He probably shouldn’t be doing this at all. There was only so much he could blame on intoxication. But Todoroki’s tense limbs were loosening in his grasp, his stiff-as-a-board body going a little limp and leaning his weight on him, so they were nearly pressed chest-to-chest. Mouth-to-mouth. Whole ass resuscitation or something.

Todoroki finally gasped and pulled back, though Bakugou couldn’t help chasing his stupid mouth a little bit. He gritted his teeth like he wanted to growl at the audacity of stopping, but figured he should let Todoroki get a word in. Just in case. One graceful hand was braced against Bakugou’s shoulder and it was oddly cool, so it must have been the right one. He blinked his big eyes owlishly and it shouldn’t have been funny, but it was. Bakugou swallowed a giggle. He didn’t giggle, as a general rule.

“So was I reading that right?” Todoroki rasped, after a moment that felt like century.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Bakugou grumbled back, annoyed that they weren’t making out. Annoyed that they weren’t fucking right this instant, right here in the alley.

“Sometimes I’m not very good with social cues,” Todoroki mumbled.

“Sometimes?” Bakugou couldn’t help but tease.

The immediate look of annoyance that Todoroki shot him was an incredible turn-on, so Bakugou reached up so that both hands were twined around the other man’s neck, fingertips skimming over the velvety prickles at the back of his skull. Todoroki full-body shivered and Bakugou yanked him down so that he could bite the tendon at the side of his neck. He latched on and didn’t let go until he was sure there would be a mark, all while Todoroki made garbled noises that sounded half-offended, half-pleased.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Todoroki said stupidly. As satisfying as it was to turn Todoroki dumb with a half-assed makeout session, Bakugou wished he would shut up about it. Every time he spoke, Bakugou second-guessed his actions.

“Fuck, shut up,” he growled against Todoroki’s throat. The sound that vibrated against his mouth went straight to his dick. “Stop analyzing this.”

Bakugou kicked Todoroki’s legs apart, slotting his thigh into the space between them and applying the barest amount of pressure. Todoroki made a strangled sound that wasn’t even real words, which was unfairly thrilling, and his fingers dug deeply into Bakugou’s shoulders. Bakugou felt incredibly smug about the half-chub Todoroki was sporting pressed against his hip. Easy. He rolled his body against Todoroki’s, grinding his leg just a little against that growing hardness.

“Wait, wait,” Todoroki panted. Bakugou pulled back, scowling but no longer moving.

“What the fuck is it now?”

“Well, one, we’re in public,” Todoroki scoffed, “and two, you’re drunk.”

“Fuck you, I’m not that drunk,” Bakugou snapped back. “If I’m drunk, then so are you.”

“That doesn’t make it better…”

“You want me to stop? Just say the word, Icy-Hot.”

Todoroki groaned and rolled his eyes so hard at the nickname that Bakugou was sure he glimpsed his frontal lobe.

“No, of course I don’t want you to stop,” he spat out. “I just… I don’t want to take advantage of the situation.”

Oh, that one was surprising. Funny, even.

“You’re not taking advantage of anything, idiot,” Bakugou chuckled, his tone lacking its usual sharpness. “It’s fine. I’ve been… fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

“Wait, really?” Todoroki asked, looking genuinely flattered.

“Don’t get so excited about it,” Bakugou huffed.

“I… I didn’t know,” Todoroki mumbled. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Fuck if I know, I didn’t think you’d be into it.”

Todoroki’s mouth fell open in a little o of surprise. He tucked his chin and his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Bakugou’s eyes followed the motion because whatever, he could do what he wanted. Staring at Todoroki’s tongue wasn’t that weird. It was… cute. Shit. It was really cute. His whole kind of embarrassed, kind of shocked expression was fucking cute.

“I am,” Todoroki paused, swallowing nervously, “very into it.”

Bakugou’s face split into a wide, feral grin.

“How far is your place?”

Todoroki made some excuse about being tired (probably true, although that wasn’t going to stop either of them), putting in the socially appropriate amount of goodbye schmoozing to not look bad. Bakugou didn’t bother saying anything, he just paid at the front and waited for his surprise hook-up to hurry the fuck up. No one expected him to stay late. Hell, most of them probably hadn’t even expected him to stay this long. Still, the adrenaline spike that came from having Todoroki’s tongue in his mouth was wearing thin, leaving him feeling sluggish and disappointingly sober. He was starting to get pissed off enough about waiting for Todoroki to seriously consider just going home instead. Maybe he could still catch the train and just jerk off to the taste that lingered on his lips. Just as he was about to storm away, Todoroki emerged from the building. He looked flushed and a little nervous, but the fatigue he’d sported earlier was replaced by a barely-contained eagerness, and Bakugou forgot about having to wait so long.

“Are the trains still running?” was what his mouth chose to say. “I don’t even know what fucking time it is—”

“Oh,” Todoroki replied, the flush deepening in a very attractive way on his cheekbones. “I, uh, already called a car.”

“God, you’re such a little rich boy,” Bakugou growled in irritation. The comment made Todoroki look pissed off again, which was a good thing in his book, and Bakugou was kissing the frustration off of his face before he could think twice about it.

A sleek black sedan with an expensive hood ornament appeared at just the right time, and Bakugou couldn’t be too annoyed about the mode of transportation when he was pushing Todoroki into the back of the car, pressing him into the slick leather of the backseat, and biting the tender skin under the unblemished side of his jaw. He wondered if anyone in the group had noticed the hickey when Todoroki was making his rounds. He wondered if he cared. Todoroki let out a garbled sound of arousal and it made him smirk in triumph. He gathered his wits just enough to give the driver instructions, but Bakugou wasn’t paying attention to trivial things like that. He was more interested in the rise and fall of Todoroki’s chest and the frantic pulse beating near the divot in his collarbone. Bakugou decided to lean over and place his mouth there, and the blood throbbed satisfyingly underneath his lips.

In no time at all (it was easy to pass the time when he could put his hands all over the guy he’d been lusting over for weeks, maybe longer), they arrived at Todoroki’s swanky condominium building. It was all dark glass reaching high up into the sky, practically blending into the night except for the sparkling lights of the city reflected on its surface. He heard Todoroki thank the driver and then he was yanked out of the car and around the side of the building, rather than towards the front entrance.

His unlikely companion shoved a disposable paper mask into his hands and Bakugou stared at it in confusion until Todoroki slipped a similar mask over his own face. Bakugou quirked a brow but followed suit. He got it. The paps would have a stroke if they caught the two of them going home together. They were still both pretty recognizable in casual clothes and no hats or jackets, but it couldn’t be helped. Three photos had already been published of Bakugou on his uneventful date with Cloud Head Twink in various gossip rags. He and Todoroki would make national news. Dynamight and Pro Hero Shouto – Rivals to Lovers. Something nauseating like that. Bakugou didn’t particularly care about that kind of thing since extras liked to speculate on his sex life all the fucking time, but Todoroki probably cared, so he put up with the false sense of privacy.

Todoroki let go of his hand once they were inside. Huh. Bakugou hadn’t even noticed he was still holding it. His palm felt cold without it, so it must have been the left hand. Todoroki nodded to the lone, sleepy doorman before swiping a card to get on the elevator. He punched in some ridiculously high floor and Bakugou could see the sweat forming on his brow. He flicked the side of Todoroki’s head.

“Hey!” the other man squawked.

“You’re freaking out,” he said plainly.

“I’m not,” Todoroki argued.

“Sure looks like you are,” Bakugou drawled.

“You think I’ve never taken someone home from the bar before?” Todoroki shot back, matching Bakugou’s lazy sneer. The implication made him suddenly pissed off, so he shoved Todoroki against the metal handrail and boxed him in with his hands. It was a little difficult with him being the shorter one for once (ugh, annoying), but he heard Todoroki’s sharp intake of breath and felt better about himself.

“I guess I gotta make myself stand out, then,” Bakugou purred, pressing his face right up against Todoroki’s neck, so the words would feel warm against his skin.

“Fuck,” was all that Todoroki said in response. They were close enough that Bakugou felt him shift his hips awkwardly so his half-mast erection wasn’t quite as noticeable. Bakugou still noticed. He ground their hips together until Todoroki was panting as the elevator moved up the building. Ding – Ding – Ding. Jackpot.

Todoroki shoved him off when they reached the right floor. He swiped the card again and they exited one side of the elevator into a dimly-lit entryway. Bakugou realized dully that Todoroki’s condo must take up half of the fucking floor. It made him want to punch the other man. He settled for kicking off his shoes with more force than was necessary, sending one flying towards what might be a dining room. Todoroki knelt to primly unlace his own shoes and scoffed quietly at Bakugou’s antics.

Fuck, he wanted to mess him up. He seriously considered trying to fuck his face right there in the genkan.

Instead, he hauled Todoroki up to his feet and shoved their mouths together again. They finally seemed to have the hang of kissing at this point – maybe sobering up helped a little – without bumping teeth or getting spit everywhere. Todoroki’s tongue slid against his and his stomach swooped. Bakugou wanted to bite his lip until it bled, but he noticed that Todoroki’s hands were shaking where they were fisted against his sides.

“Are you sure you’re not freaking out or something?” he grumbled against Todoroki’s mouth. He felt Todoroki shake his head, but he also felt the unsteady intake of his breath.

Bakugou shoved him back.

“Hey, I’m serious,” he said. “If you’re not into this, tell me now and I’ll fuckin’ leave.”

“No, I… I’m just still surprised, that’s all,” Todoroki mumbled. He glanced away briefly, then seemed to steel himself, and tilted his perfect face to meet Bakugou’s eyes. He licked reddened lips and let one hand drift downward, tentative until it reached the obvious bulge in Bakugou’s jeans. He squeezed and Bakugou gasped, rutting up against his palm.

“Believe me, I don’t want you to leave,” he rasped. His mismatched eyes were half-lidded, but they watched Bakugou with predatory interest. Bakugou smirked in triumph.

“Then let me keep surprising you.”

In one smooth motion, he locked his hands around Todoroki’s solid waist and threw him over his shoulder. He bit back a grunt from the weight of the taller man, but fuck it if he was going to let Todoroki see him stumble. He’d definitely carried worse – and heavier – things around. Todoroki yelped at being manhandled and slapped the back of his shoulder hard enough for it to sting through his shirt.

“Tell me where the bedroom is in this shithole or we’re fucking on the kotatsu,” he growled.

“D-down the hall, last door on the right,” Todoroki replied breathlessly.

“Too many fucking rooms for one person,” Bakugou complained.

“Well, I was in a relationship when I bought it,” Todoroki muttered defensively.

Bakugou almost tripped at the reminder that oh yeah, he was about to get off with his hero partner’s ex, and maybe that was against some kind of bro code or whatever. But he refused to think about Deku at a time like this. Instead, he picked up the pace, an oddly competitive warmth settling in his gut. He squeezed Todoroki’s ass while it was right there on his shoulder – just for good measure.
He kicked open the door and waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. Todoroki’s bedroom was traditional and kind of pretentious, in his honest opinion, but he wasn’t here for interior design. It was simple, with a low bed next to some gigantic, floor-to-ceiling windows. He made a mental note of the single, narrow bedside table, because he was pretty sure that was where most people would hide shit like condoms and lube. The shades were open, but this far up, Bakugou wasn’t worried about someone seeing inside. They were probably tinted, anyway.

He tossed Todoroki on the bed, where he landed with a little bounce on the spotless white comforter before Bakugou climbed on top of him. His hands were practically shaking with anticipation as he unceremoniously stripped off Todoroki’s sweater, too eager to see what was underneath to care about going too fast. He clenched his teeth against a sound when the other man’s chest was revealed, smooth and pale like the rest of him, but taut with muscle.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he said, without meaning to.

“Have you seen yourself?” Todoroki spat back, like he was mad about it. Maybe he was. Good.

Bakugou didn’t have too much time to feel smug (a crime, really) because Todoroki was sitting up, shoving him back until he was sitting on his firm thighs, and trying his damndest to peel off Bakugou’s own shirt. His hands got caught in the fabric and Bakugou chuckled darkly at his excitement, but graciously stripped off his own excess clothing.

“What the fuck,” Todoroki muttered, under his breath as though he was talking to himself rather than Bakugou. “What the fuck,” he repeated, digging his thumbs into the corded muscle above Bakugou’s hips.

Bakugou shoved him back down into the blankets and started unbuckling his belt (fuck, why was he wearing a belt, and why was it so hard to get off), but got distracted by Todoroki’s mouth again half-way through. He was rutting against his half-open jeans, fingers caught in dark denim belt loops, and Todoroki’s debauched moan went straight through his skull and out the other side. He was pretty sure his brain was leaking out of his head, just getting off on the sounds and taste of the half-naked man underneath him. It would have been kind of pathetic if it wasn’t so hot. Todoroki’s breath stuttered and he started batting uselessly at Bakugou’s hips.

“Ugh, don’t make me come in my pants, please,” Todoroki whined. The desperate tone lit up the dark, tingly places in the back of Bakugou’s brain.

“You’re pretty when you say please,” he grinned. Todoroki’s face twisted, but his expression didn’t exactly look displeased.

“Shut up,” he huffed.

Bakugou chuckled and the pause allowed him to finally tug off Todoroki’s form-fitting jeans, along with the treacherous belt. He tossed them aside and hooked his fingertips under the elastic band of Todoroki’s briefs. A designer name was printed on the fabric and he chose not to comment on it because he was nice like that. He leaned down to nip at the sensitive skin below his partner’s navel, feeling the smattering of coarse hair tickle against his nose. Ha. Red and white. That answered one burning question, at least. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the pale flesh and it twitched under his mouth.

“O-oh god,” Todoroki groaned like he was dying. “What are you doing?”

“I was gonna blow you,” Bakugou replied matter-of-factly. He paused to glance up at the other man’s face. “Unless you don’t want me to for some reason.”

“Oh no, I definitely w-want you to,” Todoroki stammered. “Um, please continue.”

“Please continue,” Bakugou mimicked, rolling his eyes. “You’re a fucking piece of work.”

Before Todoroki could say anything else to annoy him, he stripped off the briefs and threw them in a corner somewhere with the rest of their useless clothing. He couldn’t help but think that Todoroki had a nice dick. It was pretty, like the rest of him. Not so big that it would making blowjobs a pain, but definitely more than a mouthful.

“Nice,” he muttered, again, without really meaning to – speaking more to Todoroki’s cock to the man himself. He reached out and squeezed Todoroki in his hand, getting used to the feel. Todoroki drew in a sharp breath and covered his face with his hands, but it was only a moment before he was peeking through his fingers at where Bakugou was crouched between his spread legs. He took in another unsteady breath and tangled his fingertips in his long bangs, watching Bakugou with an intense, wide-eyed expression.

Bakugou thought about taking it slow, teasing him, stringing him along a little. But the moment Todoroki’s cock hit his tongue, those ideas flew out the window. Fuck it, he was pulling out all the stops. He wanted to watch the Icy-Hot bastard lose it for once. He sunk down quickly, taking it all in one go and applying a vicious amount of pressure with his mouth. He listened to Todoroki cry out and fought the urge to grin, so as not to use too much teeth. He pulled off long enough to take a breath and then suck Todoroki’s balls into his mouth one by one, pressing the tip of his tongue underneath his scrotum. When he returned to Todoroki’s cock, precum was already beading at the tip and the other man was writhing.

“Hold still,” he grumbled, but the words were muffled between Todoroki’s thighs and he couldn’t be bothered to stop long enough to form a more complete sentence. He bobbed his head up and down, far enough that Todoroki’s dick nudged the back of his throat every now and then. It was good shit. The best blow-job he’d experienced in recent memory, and he wasn’t even the one getting sucked off.

Todoroki groaned, hands flying down to fist almost painfully tight in his hair. He gasped, and Bakugou could barely see the half-ashamed expression on his face before Todoroki let go and clutched his fists politely at his sides instead. Bakugou growled low in his throat and would have snapped his teeth in annoyance if his mouth wasn’t currently full of cock. Instead, he grabbed both of Todoroki’s hands and shoved them back in his hair. Fuck being gentle.

His partner took that as permission – thank fuck, at least he wasn’t a complete idiot – and fucked into his mouth hard enough for tears to prickle at the corners of Bakugou’s eyes. Bakugou petted his tongue up and down the underside of Todoroki’s cock as he sucked and that made him buck his hips right off the bed. It choked him a little too much for comfort, so he grumbled his displeasure and pulled off to take in a steadying breath.

“Sorry, sorry,” Todoroki blurted out, totally lost.

“I said hold still,” Bakugou growled.

He repositioned so that he could grasp Todoroki by the hips, forcibly holding him down so he wouldn’t gag him too terribly. The position was harder on his neck, but he liked the feeling of control. He continued to suck his cock, fingertips digging tiny bruises into the flesh of Todoroki’s hips. The hands returned to his hair, tugging the strands just enough to create a pleasant sting. He felt Todoroki stiffen underneath him, balls drawing up as he gasped.

“Bakugou,” he gasped. “Bakugou, I’m going to—”

Todoroki threw his head to the side, biting his cheek and cutting off the warning like he couldn’t quite bear to speak it out loud. Bakugou didn’t pull off. If anything, he increased the pressure until his lips ached. He glanced up to look Todoroki in the face as the other man fell apart, daring him to come. Todoroki didn’t make a sound when the orgasm hit him. He just gasped in one more breath, words dying in his mouth as his back arched, shoving his cock further into Bakugou’s throat, despite the rough hands holding him down.

Warmth pulsed in his mouth, some dripping down onto the sheets. Bakugou swallowed most of it, but he curled his tongue up to reserve some of Todoroki’s spend. He crawled up the other man’s body to press their mouths together in a filthy kiss, letting some of the cum dribble into Todoroki’s open mouth. Todoroki jolted when he realized what he’d done and broke the kiss momentarily.

“That’s disgusting,” he hissed, jerking back with a sneer.

“You like it,” Bakugou replied, grinning in triumph.

Todoroki groaned, then tugged him back down into the kiss and refused to argue. He licked into Bakugou’s mouth, tongue lapping the taste of himself away. They stayed like that for a moment, locked together as Todoroki’s body twitched with sensitivity and Bakugou felt very superior about the whole thing. He broke the kiss and glanced down at Todoroki, who was looking a mess as he ran his hands down Bakugou’s bare chest and stomach.

“Hey, what d’you want?” Bakugou asked, voice rough. “Want me to fuck you?” Todoroki took a sharp breath before daring to look him in the face again.

“Not tonight, but let me return the favor,” he murmured. He sat up and gently pressed Bakugou’s shoulder to encourage him to climb off of his body.

Bakugou felt a brief hint of disappointment at the idea of not fucking Todoroki, but it was quickly replaced by intense interest in the Not tonight he’d murmured. He’d kind of assumed this was a one-time thing, but maybe not. Then Todoroki was pulling at his waist, tugging him to sit at the edge of the bed. Bakugou lifted his hips and shucked off his trousers and underwear in one go. The clothes definitely had some spit and cum in unfortunate places, but he couldn’t worry about it now. Not when Todoroki knelt between his thighs and started stroking his neglected cock and… yeah. That was definitely an image he was going to secret away in the back of his mind. Todoroki on his knees, fisting his cock, expression fucked-out and desperate, mouth half-open like he couldn’t wait for what was next.

It ticked some boxes, okay? Not like that would surprise anyone.

Bakugou swore quietly and clutched his hands in the sheets to keep from coming immediately just from having the man kneeling prostrate at his feet.

“You like being on your knees?” he couldn’t help but ask. His fingertips reached out to thread through Todoroki’s bangs, tugging them upwards so he could see the man’s entire face without his stupid candy-striped hair in the way.

“Fuck you,” Todoroki muttered in response.

“Not tonight,” Bakugou replied with a grin.

Todoroki made an expression that was somewhere between an eyeroll and his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he shoved Bakugou’s cock in his mouth. It was something of a feat, since Bakugou was not exactly a small man, but he barely gagged at the motion. Todoroki was displaying a little bit more patience that Bakugou had exercised – maybe the orgasm took the edge off their shared haste – alternating between hot, wet pressure, teasing suckles, and tonguing at the base of his dick. Bakugou huffed out a ragged breath, closing his eyes briefly but keeping his hand tangled in Todoroki’s hair. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but god damn it, Todoroki knew what he was doing. He forced himself to open his eyes again and adjusted his grip on the man’s hair, guiding his mouth back and forth with his hands. It was such a pretty picture, he couldn’t help but comment on it.

“Fuck, you should see yourself,” he rumbled. “You were made for this. It’s a fucking crime you’re not sucking cock 24/7.”

Todoroki’s eyes lit up, glittering at the unexpected praise. Of course he was a slut for positive reinforcement. To be fair, Bakugou hadn’t really planned on being so complimentary – but if there was one thing he didn’t mind praising Todoroki on, it was his cock-sucking skills. He untangled one hand from Todoroki’s hair and petted his fingers down his partner’s face, feeling where his cock bulged against the plush skin of his cheek. He hooked two fingers into the corner of Todoroki’s mouth, forcing him to open his lips wider to accommodate them. Todoroki choked a little at that, but didn’t give up, and Bakugou relished the feeling of his cock sliding wetly against his own fingertips and the taunt pull of the other man’s mouth.

“Fuck,” he hissed, gravelly and breathless, and withdrew his fingers. He jerked the hand still tangled in Todoroki’s hair to get the other man’s attention. “Lemme fuck your face,” he rasped.

Todoroki nodded eagerly, and the motion was almost comical with his lips still wrapped around Bakugou’s cock. He pulled off (a tragedy), then scooted back on his knees on the thick carpet to give Bakugou room, rubbing at his reddened mouth with the heel of one hand. Bakugou staggered to his feet and roughly grabbed the back of Todoroki’s neck, guiding him back to his cock. It wasn’t the kind of thing he usually did with someone on a first time hook-up, but Todoroki wasn’t just someone. He knew there was no guarantee he’d get another opportunity, and he didn’t want to have any regrets.

That, and he knew Todoroki could take it.

Todoroki’s eyes fluttered, hands scrabbling at the backs of Bakugou’s thighs as he thrust into his mouth. He let himself go a little slack, humming happily around Bakugou’s cock, and a few stray tears trickled down his cheeks. Fuck. Todoroki really seemed to like it. Bakugou didn’t know what to do with that information. Holy shit. Someone in hell must have peeked into his private fantasies and decided he deserved something nice for once. The price of this particular reward didn’t matter if he could keep abusing Todoroki’s pink mouth. His hand drifted from the back of Todoroki’s head to the side of his throat, not squeezing, but applying a gentle, grounding pressure. Todoroki’s nostrils flared as he fought for air and Bakugou cursed quietly. He grabbed the base of his cock with the other hand to hold off his orgasm.

“Where do you want it?” he groaned.

Todoroki moaned around his cock like he was the one getting off, then pulled back with a gasping breath. He pushed Bakugou’s hand away and started jacking him off at a furious pace. He pressed the slick head of his cock against his lips and the side of his cheek, and Bakugou was done for. Total knock-out. Send him home in a body bag. He came across Todoroki’s face and the top of his chest like a cheesy porno. Todoroki licked the corner of his mouth to complete the effect and then sat back on his heels, looking pleased but winded. Bakugou took a mental snapshot (click, save, never let it go) before slumping back heavily on the bed.

He heard Todoroki pad off towards the attached bathroom and there were some sounds of rummaging, a door opening and closing, and then the sink running. Bakugou usually made an effort to clean up if he came on someone (fuck off, he wasn’t raised in a barn), but currently he felt like he’d just shot his brain right out of his dick and his limbs were made of concrete. Todoroki returned quickly, sans his jizz, wearing silky pajama bottoms. It was a fucking crime for him to be clean and clothed again, but he couldn’t complain about that out loud. His traitor brain told him loudly that Todoroki should be filthy at all times – preferably on his knees, covered in fluids, fucked out of his mind.

“You good?” Bakugou asked, voice still rough. At least he could make words – that was something. Todoroki tilted his head to the side, curiously surveying Bakugou’s naked body like he hadn’t just been blowing him.

“Yeah,” he murmured, voice equally raspy.

Todoroki collapsed on the bed next to him, not even bothering to get under the covers. Unconsciously, Bakugou hooked their pinkies together as they lounged in the rumpled sheets, his feet still dangling awkwardly off the bed. Basking in the afterglow, he could have fallen asleep right there, without even cleaning up. Maybe he did – because after what felt like only a few moments, but could have been hours for all he knew, he jolted into wakefulness. He lurched upwards and stared down at his bedmate. Todoroki was still in a similarly drowsy situation next to him, but his eyes were closed, so Bakugou couldn’t tell if he was truly asleep or not. He forced himself to stand, then followed the path Todoroki had taken to the bathroom.

When Bakugou returned, Todoroki was sitting up in bed, staring at him with wide, wet eyes that seemed to reflect every speck of moonlight. It nearly made him trip and fall. Nearly.

“You’re leaving?” Todoroki asked. His voice was completely emotionless and Bakugou knew it was a façade. He wasn’t dumb.

“I just had to piss, calm down,” he grumbled. He sat down on the edge of the bed, still whole-ass naked because whatever, he didn’t need to cover up. He knew he looked good. “You want me to get outta here?” he asked, because. Well. Of course he had to ask.

Todoroki stood up and walked over to the open window. He looked out on the sleeping city briefly before lowering the gauzy shades and pulling the blackout curtains closed.

“It’s late,” was what he chose to say, aiming his voice at the fabric of the curtains instead of his companion. Bakugou was suddenly hit with an image of him – pale and lonely in the enormous, gleaming condo, a place he’d chosen for someone he didn’t love any more – and leaving didn’t even feel like an option.

Fuck it – it was late anyway. He didn’t like staying out this late. He knew his phone would be blinking a ridiculous time at him if he could find it. Staying over wasn’t a big deal.

“I’ll crash here, if it’s all the same to you,” he muttered. Todoroki didn’t say yes or no, but the corner of his lips shifted in the darkness.

“I think I have some pajamas that might fit you,” he replied.

“Yeah, right,” Bakugou snorted.

He got the feeling that maybe they should talk or something, but hell if he was going to start that conversation. Instead, he scoffed and postured while Todoroki rummaged around for sleeping clothes, but eventually accepted the worn All Might-branded sweats that were offered to him. He pulled them on without a shirt or underwear. Such mundane clothing problems were for future him to worry about.

The bed was big enough that they didn’t even need to touch under the undoubtedly expensive covers, but if Bakugou pulled Todoroki against him in the middle of the night, neither of them complained about it.