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Memes 💥 PSLs 💥 AUs 💥 Continues
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Date: 9/1/24 02:14 (UTC)luckily, bakugou relents before he can waste his breath. he doesn't smile, doesn't gloat over the victory--it's a solemn nod he offers, taking bakugou's words in stride, and once he's inside the booth, he reaches with one hand, gently icing over the latch. it'll melt, break apart as soon as bakugou pushes the door to exit: but for now, it feels like an extra measure of safety that he desperately needs to feel like he's in control. his ribs ache, his back twinges in agony, and he keeps one arm looped around his middle, breathing into it, casting his gaze to their surroundings.
the street sign must be behind them. he doesn't recognize any of the taller buildings in the distance, doesn't recognize any of the smaller shops along the street. he doesn't know the name of the nearby apartment building, either, and the few cars that pass by them go too quickly for him to fully read the license plates; maybe that's the exhaustion settling in, something that he fights by gripping his hand more firmly at his side. within the booth, he can hear bakugou commanding the person on the other line, demanding and firm, and it makes his shoulders slump; it's a relief to know that he actually got through to someone.
by the time bakugou drops the receiver, letting it swing on the line, he's already nearly warmed the ice off the latch of the door with his back pressed against it; he forces himself to straighten, turning to look at him with another solemn nod. )
That way. ( he agrees, in a soft wheeze of breath--and he waits, pointedly, for bakugou to take the first few steps before he falls in beside him, lagging behind just a half a beat in order to ensure that he watches his back. there's nothing he can hear behind them, even as they move forward; there's no sound of footsteps on the sidewalk, or the sound of a gun cocking, but he keeps his gaze moving, keeps his focus on their surroundings rather than any pain or exhaustion. it's funny, how tiring it feels to get his quirk back: but how relieving it is, to feel it at his fingertips again, like a lost limb returning back to its rightful place. ) Bakugou...
( it feels safe enough to say it--to give him a look, briefly, another once over like he can't quite believe that he's upright and walking next to him, as they continue forward. he thinks he can hear sirens in the distance, but it's hard to know if that's just his wishful thinking. ) Are you hurt anywhere else? You didn't hit the glass--or anything?
( he's trying to make a list, for their inevitable rescue: to be able to clearly define to the paramedics and police officers the sort of help that bakugou needs. if anything, he'll be demanding they see to him first; the bullet wound might be drying out, some, but it's still severe enough that it worries him, angers him, makes his stomach clench in disquiet. )
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Date: 9/7/24 00:14 (UTC)another time and he might have found todoroki's icy lock on the door a charming security. meaning little to any physical effort, yet cute for the implication it provides. he'll have to remember it later and comment when they're safe. as he talks on the phone, he props it against his shoulder and head, giving himself time and limb room to check on the injury festering pain atop his upper arm. the wound's a mess, torn skin open all the way to the surface. it's not another hole through his body, but it'll leave a mark if he doesn't get it treated and healed fast. gritting against the pain, he recounts their situation and as best approximated location to the dispatcher, snarling when he has to reveal how to track the fucking payphone. gonna rage at the cops to make sure everyone on the dispatch is aware of how to do that in the future! just because cellphones are rampant, that doesn't mean payphones are obsolete or extinct! SOME HEROES CHANGE INTO THEIR COSTUMES IN THESE!!
none of this place is familiar to him. which quickly makes sense given the reveal of their location via the dispatcher's search. wait- a car just drove by?! he grits his teeth at the new change. it looked like the place was deserted earlier, but indeed, the sound of vehicles is there. a road's nearby. (duh, they're on a street.) maybe a small neighborhood street passing by this warehouse + office combo? part of him wants to tell todoroki to get a car's attention. he's famous enough to be seen and recognized. but that would require the other hero to leave him here in the booth and that's not going to happen. shit, relegate that to step two. leaving the receiver down and off the hook, it ensures the dispatch is still online and present. if someone chasing them picks up the line to see who they called, maybe that will stall them for a few precious seconds.]
Aa. Move it. [hearing todoroki's breath struggling through his lungs pumps adrenaline through him, fueling his anger, fear, determination, and drive. he has to keep them moving. one step at a time, leaning forward as if the weight of his head and shoulders will pull him further when his legs don't want to. his eyelids droop slightly and he shoves them open again with a snarl. piss off! he's not tired! he's dealt with worse blood loss than this, after shigaraki skewered him in the first war. and he could move and survive with that damage. this is nothing! he'll have time to bleed out when todoroki is safe. a quiet, deep voice carries his name behind him, reminding him of their trips to remediation classes when he demanded the other boy get behind him. tch, fucking irony.] What?
[keep walking. keep moving. don't stop. each press of his foot to the ground is another proof they're getting out of this alive. as fast as he can force his body to go, faster through the road, around the corner, towards the open street that reaches for another road further ahead. they could hitch a ride with someone, the odds of landing in the same care as one of their pursuers is extremely low... depending on the rate of vehicle flow up here. but the police are coming to intercept them. they can't be stuck in a damn car. distant sires call his attention and he lifts his head to try and locate their direction. another question, more worry and concern.] Of course not! I hit you, ya damn mattress-roki!
[yeah, definitely not mad that his boyfriend took the impact for him or anything. if he was injured elsewhere, he wouldn't tell him right now. it would only make todoroki worry about him more and try to take the burden of supporting him when he was struggling on his own. he'll tell the officers and paramedics instead. the other hero can grump at him later for not saying anything.
it's when he hears an engine roar behind him that he reaches back to grab his boyfriend's collar. no time to stagger and hurt now. as soon as that noise bares it's teeth, he runs. fuck the pain, fuck the blood, if his muscles don't want to work, he forces them to! if todoroki stumbles, he drags him along with pure strength, refusing to let him fall. they have to move! whatever took those people this long to get into a vehicle is unknown, but any inch they can put between themselves and someone coming after them, the better. move, dammit! one foot in front of the other! move!]
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Date: 9/12/24 22:02 (UTC)a hard swallow, and he continues moving. he knows better than to stop: even if it's just to intercept the police, or the ambulance, before they get too far away, it's worth it to stay upright; he's worried what might happen, if bakugou skids down onto his knees, if he loses feeling, if he starts to feel tired, worn out, unable to keep his eyes open. his fingertips clench tight again, a little shiver of cold that he pumps through his own body, to keep his own eyes narrowed and clear-headed; they can round the corner, get a little further, and maybe then the sirens will be closer, and maybe then he can take in a full breath, instead of the staggered panting he's kept to maintain some shallow amount of pain.
and then there's the tires squealing, an engine roaring--and bakugou's hand, reaching for him, and he doesn't even have to ask. like clockwork, his feet fall into step with bakugou's stride, an immediate bolt into running, despite the way his lungs ache, despite the way his stomach feels like it might just bottom out. rather than look ahead of them, he's looking around, looking off to the side--and his hand reaches to fist up bakugou's shirt and immediately drag him sidelong, stumbling slightly along the sidewalk. )
Here. ( panted out, the words come like a desperate wheeze: but with his hand fisted up tightly in the fabric, now, all it takes is a kick of his foot to skid his ice behind him, and with it, take bakugou whether he wants to come or not. ) Now!
( adrenaline chills, an icy calm that feels as familiar as the sting of cool snow through his skin; a tight alley, between the end of a parking garage and another office lobby on the side, affords darkness, at least, and he realizes it only after that little kick off: if he leaves ice behind, it'll just give them away. his hand in bakugou's shirt pushes him, practically throwing him into the shadow of the alley, into the trash cans lined up there and the sturdy black box of a dumpster, or maybe an air conditioner unit, he isn't sure.
a sweep of his other arm out to throw a splutter of fire along the ground--it burns out the ice, but there's nothing he can do about the wet spots on the cement; they'll just have to risk that it'll look like the usual wear and tear, as he rounds himself into the alley after bakugou, immediately crouching down. )
Put your hand over your arm. Do it. Press down. ( a low, quiet command: it's for bakugou's sake as much as it is to not leave any spatter of blood behind. his bowed head nods forward, towards the shadows further down the alley-- ) We can't...We'll have to wait. For the...ambulance.
( his head feels a little fuzzy--maybe it's better that bakugou's quirk is coming back slowly, he's starting to feel sick from the exertion; maybe it's just his body still adjusting to the temperate flows of hot and cold, and he lifts up a hand to push his bangs away from his face--they're sticky with sweat. ) Should be fine... I can be...mattress-roki...again.
( said solemnly, it doesn't even sound like a joke. if bakugou ends up needing to lie down, he's not going to have him lying on the dirty cement. they need to keep that wound as clean as possible. )
no subject
Date: 9/15/24 21:03 (UTC)each step pumps his blood again, alternating the rims of his vision from red to clear. pain numbs only to come back in a spurt of agony on his arm, but he pushes through it, focusing on the same breath beside him to keep himself going. one step after another, each one putting them further from the danger behind them. his breath catches, comes in short, pained sounds, and he shoves it down, forcing his lungs to take in air they stupidly protest. he wants to rest, he wants to sit, his legs want to buckle, and he slams his foot into the ground every time, refusing each pleading request his body makes for relief. it doesn't know the danger they're in, doesn't realize rest means capture. not just his, but todoroki's too.
move, move, move. if the villains had any realization the sound of engines revving would be the same to the heroes' motivation and actions, they might have muffled their fucking vehicles. blood spatters out of his arm, slapping onto nearby bushes, but he doesn't even feel it. not when everything inside has turned into a freezing dread and adrenaline rush. even if his guts were falling out his side, he'd be running, heedless of the red fluid spilling at his feet. the man beside him moves too, forgetting his impacted lungs and bruised ribs in a desperate dash for freedom. neither of them are strong enough now to contend with getting grabbed again. fingers crush his shirt into a ball and he's momentarily hauled from his pace into the sound of a voice and change of direction.]
Oy! [what the fuck's he doing?! ice bursts behind them, taking his feet off the ground for a second as the trail spills out beneath. if he had any concern about marking their path, there's nothing to be said. whether ice or blood, they're leaving marks. all he does is snarl in pain as todoroki takes over their escape.] Fine!
[but the sudden shove has him tumbling forward, twisting around with an incredulous look on his face. the alley?! they had to be moving towards the road! darkness rises over them, but he realizes even in his anger this isn't a bad decision. a car isn't going to fit in here to chase them. it would take their pursuers an entire street and u-turn to track them like this. right before he crashes into the trashcans with an obnoxious clatter. one hand slams down, a tiny explosion barely pops him out of a fall, and he hits the wall with his good shoulder at least. one leg digs into the ground like a pike and he snarls back towards todoroki at the near crash. he better not be thinking about holing up in here. they have to be visible for the police! they don't have their phones!]
What the hell are you thinkin-?! [his words cut off with a wince of pain, one eye crimped shut. dammit. he grabs at his arm, putting it over the wound. blood squishes between his fingers even when he tries not to squeeze too hard on it. the remaining red gaze glares daggers at his todoroki. he better not have dropped them in here just because he was leaking blood on the ground. not after dumping a bunch of ice down there! even if he did melt it...] Dammit, you want us to sit here and hide?!
[voice a sticky hiss between his teeth, there's logic and emotion crashing together. todoroki's talking about him lying against his body to rest and he wants to run for the oncoming police. stay put and hide, advance in the open, which one? shoving aside his own thoughts, he looks at his partner instead. face drained, body tense in a bad way, labored breathing, sweat soaking his hair, even his words come out in pauses... he's not doing any better. curbing his anger, one hand moves to take the other hero by the arm and pull him. at best, they can duck down in the darkness behind the dumpster. too bad none of the alley-facing windows were open. could've hid inside. he pulls todoroki down with him, sinking to the ground and resting his back to the stone wall behind him. breathe, focus on resting, regain some strength.] Okay... you have to rest too... Stay with me...
[they'll make it. they have to.]
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Date: 9/26/24 19:50 (UTC)( it's not like he isn't thinking the same things: thinking that if they're hiding, it might keep them from getting pursued, but it might also keep them from getting rescued. but getting captured again would be the ultimate loss, and it seems better--or is it better? it's hard to marry his thoughts together: he's trying to focus on too many things at once, and despite all of their training, and all of his progress, he still has his moments where he charges ahead of himself, and others, before even realizing what he should be focused on. bakugou pulls at him, plaintive, and rather than crouch, he sinks down to sit in front of him, legs pulled in criss-cross; craning over at the waist, he lets his gaze focus on the blood that squelches past bakugou's hand over his wound. it's not pooling over his palms, or dribbling all the way down his body--he could cauterize the wound with ease, but he's hesitant to do it even if the bullet went straight through. it's better to have someone actually look at it to ensure that he isn't just sealing dirt and debris inside bakugou's skin; he'd never forgive himself for something like that.
with a slow breath, he tries to analyze his own body: he's been so focused on bakugou that he hasn't really stopped to feel himself over, hasn't stopped to realize what exactly might be wounded. his chest aches, without his arm there to bolster against the front of it; his shallow breath pans out slower, feeling for where it hurts to inhale, and decides that bakugou is still top priority, no matter what. if his ribs are bruised, or something's pinched on the inside, it doesn't matter as much as cleaning that bullet wound and closing it up; pain is easy to deal with.
rather than stare at bakugou, he turns to look past his shoulder at the opening of the alley: there's not much he can see, from where they're tucked in together, but listening is just as helpful, and there's the skid of tires on cement, the rev of an engine, and then another, that seems to move past them and further on. distant, still, are those sirens--funnily enough, it sounds like the police and the villains are likely going to end up crashing into each other before either set finds them, something that makes him breathe out a quiet laugh of wry amusement. )
Two minutes. Maybe...three. Then we'll go back out.
( he has to keep his mind going--he has to keep his thoughts moving, has to keep the adrenaline flowing, has to keep up his energy; taking only a moment for weakness, he leans forward further, his forehead touching lightly against bakugou's other shoulder, head bowed there, eyes closed. this close, he can smell the blood, the sweat, that distinct smell of bakugou's skin, his hair, everything that he'd marveled over just nights ago, pleased and warm and safe. it's not that he hadn't expected something like this to happen eventually: he'd just thought that it would be a long time until someone used their connection against them. maybe not until they became pros.
letting out a slow, well-balanced breath, he peels himself back up again, offering bakugou a small, almost watery smile. )
You think you can get to your feet again? We should be okay.
( a glance spared sidelong, back to the alley opening, confirming--and then back to bakugou, lifting up one of his hands so that he can wipe and smear his tousled bangs away from his own face. )
If you want to wait here, I'll go look. Just tell me.
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Date: 10/5/24 18:41 (UTC)the idea of getting his injury cauterized is tempting. a bullet went through there; yeah, all the way through, considering it's bleeding out the front and the back. he knows it wasn't deep enough to hit the bone at least. there's no dirt or grime inside so far, since they haven't tumbled around through mud, but... since they have some time, the blonde starts working on a bandage, tearing his shirt at the side to rip the material off. good thing they weren't stripped completely... he tries to keep the noise as muffled as possible while todoroki rests across from him. hopefully the other boy's taking this time to judge his own injuries. so long as those ribs are only bruised or crack, not shattered, he can still operate with relative safety, albeit in a lot of pain and tighter breath.
as todoroki keeps watch on the mouth of the alley (keep your damn head down, moron!) he binds the rags of his shirt around his arm, keeping the material flat against the wound for three wraps before working the rest into a more proper binding. teeth set against a piece of material to muffle any pained noises daring into his mouth. everything freeze the second tires approach their hiding spot, eyes jerking to the side, hand hovering over the half-tied knot on his arm. no motion, no breath, no noise, he swears his heart opts to stop too. gravel rolls beneath rubber as the vehicle passes on. shit, if they bothered to look closer, they'd probably spot the spatters of his blood even though he tried to keep it as contained as possible. hopefully those bastards would crash into the cops first...]
Uh-huh. [two or three. he'll give him those. with a final jerk, he sets the knot, grunting in pain and effort, then drops back against the wall behind him as todoroki sinks onto his body. panting between grit teeth, he reaches up and wraps his uninjured arm around his boyfriend's neck and shoulder, hand resting atop his head in a reassuring motion. they made it out. now they have to focus on staying out. energy pumping, adrenaline recharging, resting to regain their power. todoroki's scent lingers in his breaths, the hint of snow and mint from his previous gout of ice. it has a way of making him feel refreshed no matter what he'd been doing, compared to the traces of smoke and burn whenever he uses his flames. wrapped up in his own personal scent, he's grown used to as they slept together. hard to imagine they were this close a few nights ago for an entirely different reason.
that's the price of a hero getting close to another person. the one you love and care for becomes your weakness. they knew this going into their relationship. even as friends, as members of class 1-a, their entire class was a weakness. they even threw themselves into battle to protect aizawa, shattered when midnight was hospitalized, and devastated when all might was forced into retirement... bonds make for great strength, but terrible weakness. yet when it comes to todoroki, he accepts that risk. he's come to love the other boy too much to allow that weakness to overcome the strengths it gives him. look at where they are now, escaped and free, driven by a desire to protect each other, right?
as todoroki draws back, he shuffles his hand from the boy's head to his nape, then down to his cheek where one thumb brushes at the corners of his mouth and the hot liquid collecting at the rim of a slate-gray eye.]
Don't look down on my, dumbass. I could've been up minutes ago. [always bravado. though the moment todoroki even suggests he be the one to leave him behind and go venture out on his own, the blonde promptly "knees" his boyfriend in the balls. (look, they're right there.) definitely not enough to hurt him, but give him a jolt as a fierce glare scours his face.] Suggest we split up again and I'll smear you across the wall.
[he would never. still threaten though. pressing a hand to the ground, he pushes himself up, careful to avoid dragging his injured arm against the wall. part of him wants to use the fire escape ladders to get to the roof, but their quirks aren't strong enough yet to allow them to safely go jumping from rooftop to rooftop.] Lets go. We need to head east, towards the nearest highway.
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Date: 10/10/24 23:05 (UTC)he takes the direction with a nod. towards the highway, then, which shouldn't be too far off--and if it had been the villains speeding off ahead of them, then they have plenty of time to get there without having to be worried about a pursuit. at least not for awhile, and that's good enough for him: he doesn't want to push bakugou, and though he trusts in that makeshift bandage around him, he snags his gaze to it as though to keep track of the blood blossoming through the material. if it gets too large, or too dark, then he's going to have to do something about it.
his mouth is still stuck into that line, half-pouting: )
...If you smear me across the wall, then we won't be together, either.
( still, he takes him at his word: he moves, keeping pace with bakugou, sliding out to the edge of the alley to give it a cursory glance one way, and then the next; no sign of any villains, no sign of anything awry, either, or any kind of scuffle. with a short nod, he slips out of the alley, following the sidewalk back up the way they had been headed. it seems like the right direction, though he's still wincing a little, dragging his gaze up to try to find the sun in the sky and re-assess.
everything's going to be fine. he's exhausted, sure, and bakugou's wounded more than he would have liked: but it's going to be okay. even the adrenaline working its way through him seems to allow him that mental reprieve; sidelong, he looks at bakugou walking next to him, staring at his wounded shoulder to confirm that it hasn't changed, and then up to his face, pointedly. )
Bakugou. ( it's soft, like he's about to say something he shouldn't--like his tongue hesitates, and slowly, his gaze slides back out again, keeping an attentive watch on their surroundings as they drag themselves along the sidewalk. )
When we get back. What do you want to eat?
( he can't tell what time it is, really, but surely it's late enough that dinner should be an option--if not the only option, and it seems like the safer way to convey what he wants to say than saying it out loud. i love you, i'm taking care of you, i'm not leaving, you're not going anywhere--none of that seems quite right, none of it seems to fit on his tongue the way he wants; he's still so clumsy with things like this, that sometimes it's just easier to go the long way around. )
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Date: 10/21/24 02:25 (UTC)stalking from the alley, he pauses right at the entrance, enough to poke a head out like a curious mole, twisting this way and that to check their surroundings. no cars line to road, no people on the sidewalks, no bullets snapped off towards his spiky head. he wonders if they should go out the back of the alley, but that would be going away from the highway. boots scrape against the ground in a grit of gravel under his soles as he steps forward and emerges from the sandwiching walls. out into the open, his heart rate picking up as if he was some damn deer creeping back into the meadow after the hunters left. he hates this shitty vulnerable feeling, the idea of being hunted by unknown assailants.]
Urusei. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. [great thing to say post-threat to turn your boyfriend into alleyway modern art. as todoroki falls in step beside him, he keeps close by. not enough to bump his injured arm into the other hero, but is deliberately taking the slot between his boyfriend and the road. if something is to come at them, he'll be the one taking it. shit part is, he's never been to this part of the city. without being able to fly, he can't get a scope of the surrounding areas. fuck, he wants to put his arm around todoroki and support him. hobbling together as a pair would only slow them down, so he's forced to trust his lover to move.
facing forward, walking forward, one step at a time brings them closer and closer to the hill reaching for the highway beyond it. his breathing comes shorter and he silences his breath to avoid todoroki noticing. a brief reprieve in the phonebooth hadn't made up for running afterwards, leaving them winded and exhausted from the ordeal. at least the bandage keeps his blood inside, but he's lost plenty already. one more step, another step, ears peeled and straining for any revving engines or the grind of tires.]
Huh? [talking? now? it'd better be something important! ... fucking stupid, that's what it is. melting his chest in the way he wants to yell at him and laugh simultaneously. lips quirk in a strange wiggle, half a sneer half a smirk. no, it's not stupid. it's an innocent question that reinforces todoroki's stalwart belief they'll get through this. trusting him implicitly. ironically, it's this simple question, not those sappy things on todoroki's mind, that makes the blonde feel a gush of strength, affection, and resolve pour into each sinew and nerve. his breathing evens out slightly, the pain dulling a single digit. that's right. they're going to get through this.] Tantan men, but we'll use soba noodles.
[as the road climbs into view beneath their feet, rows of trees part ways to see between their trunks and finally opens to the highway. cars pass in alternating speeds, it's busy, likely due to the lowering sun, people heading home or to work depending on their shifts... jumping out into traffic is a foolish idea, but it would be the easiest way to get attention. not INTO traffic as a dumbass animal, but even on the side of the road, standing and waving would quickly get a driver's attention. neither of them are hard to recognize. but it would also cause a traffic jam should they interrupt the flow and have someone-- then multiple people --stopping to either help them or rubberneck. to say nothing of their kidnappers who might use the slowed traffic to harm people.] Shit... Waiting for the police could take a while.
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Date: 11/17/24 22:24 (UTC)his fingers tighten, slightly, digging into his shirt: for as much as his ribs ache, he knows that bakugou's arm hurts more, and so he purposefully keeps his pace slow, as though to force bakugou to match him rather than to force bakugou to admit that he has to go a little slower. )
Mm... Spicy, like always. ( his tongue isn't quite as refined as bakugou's is, given that he prefers his food a little more bland, a little cooler, but even so--bakugou isn't the only one who enjoyed his sister's spicy mapo tofu. ) I want gyoza, too.
( the thought of a good meal, warm food, bakugou's snarling at him to eat more--it makes his chin lift, bolstering himself with a faint smile as they continue on. he's well aware of the relative silence around them, which is both good and bad, all things considered; bakugou's still losing blood, by the way he glances again at his shoulder, and his jaw sets, trying to decide if it's worth it to stop them for long enough to try to put more pressure on the wound. maybe he should tie it all tighter, as though trying to avoid having to resort to fire--but would bakugou even let him?
he's lost enough in his own calculations that he barely even recognizes that they've made it to the highway until the sound becomes too loud to ignore; his eyes round, both pleased and disappointed. a part of him had hoped that they might find the police out here, but judging by the sight, there's no stopped cars, no blazing siren, no ambulance here to pick them up. his gaze swings to bakugou, once, then back out towards the lanes; with a soft nod of his chin, he agrees. )
We can't wait that long. Not with y--not with injury. ( there's a slight wince, as though he doesn't want to say it-- ) If we flag someone down, we can call...Endeavor, at least.
( if nothing else, he could get a car to them quickly. briefly, he wonders if it might be better to call hawks, but he doesn't have that number memorized; unfortunately, it's going to have to be his father, which is an entirely different can of worms.
the tilt of his head at bakugou is a silent question--he's already charged forward too many times, dragged bakugou through his own plans without asking, and since they have a moment here, however small, he wants his boyfriend's opinion. the last thing he wants to do is make a mistake here, so close to the end; his gaze slides back to bakugou's shoulder again, like he can't help but look at it like his own mistake every time. )
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Date: 12/2/24 00:48 (UTC)doesn't mean he's "okay" with the hero slowing his pace down as a means of forcing his own legs into a drawn speed. dammit, he wants to go faster, to run, to throw caution to the wind and blitz the damn hill before something else goes wrong! that "something" being someone's ankle if todoroki didn't demand through body motion alone they ease up. all without saying anything to piss him off. what a class act.]
Duh. [spicy as always, with one half cooler or a separate option for the more sensitive tongue. why the hell would he make something or get something his boyfriend wouldn't enjoy? real shit relationship decision there. recipes passing todoroki's silent approval get stored away for later.] Fresh or frozen?
[shut up. there's a difference in flavor. unfortunately, they aren't permitted the luxury of a polite demure arrival of police cares and flaming pro heroes in the relative peace of a highway-crested hillside. while the option to wait there crossed his mind, standing out in the open with people trying to kidnap or kill them still roving round the unknown in range is a shitty idea. keeping cover away from vehicles tearing after them and in sight of witnesses soundly ruins any attempt at stealing either of them away again. the highway is their safety, screw the publicity on the horizon. neither of their injuries are doing them favors when it comes to time either. he forces his fingers open and closed again, forces blood through his veins, forces feeling back into his nerves. you listen to him, damn fingers; no one's giving you permission to cut out while he's still conscious!]
You're a dumbass if you think Endeavor isn't on his way right now. [the dispatch knows both heroes are in the area; of course they're going to alert the number one hero about it! if not others in their class because gossip's a fucking worm with them. todoroki's gonna have to deal with his annoying ass smothering old man one way or another. the sirens he heard earlier aren't registering in his ears either, making him wonder if those were for them or an unrelated search. under cover of trees lining the highway, they can stay hidden for a bit longer to decide.]
Stop looking at it! [his shoulder!] I'm fine! [sheesh! you have your own injuries to deal with, half-n-half! his is treated as best they could together in the time they had with the shit they had. there is another option though... without causing a traffic jam or waiting for the police here. red eyes narrow at the oncoming traffic. plenty of cars and trucks, but what he's watching for...] There. Get ready to jump.
[an open flatbed of supplies dragged behind a truck. they can easily make the jump. crashing into it means a hard impact, but they'll have safety, a route, and provided they driver doesn't flip the fuck out, possible communication going forward. is it commandeering a vehicle for heroics? possibly. he rolls his good shoulder and sets his foot in front of him, preparing to move.] Don't you dare fucking miss.
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Date: 12/30/24 00:15 (UTC)when he'd been younger, he'd been convinced that endeavor only acted that way out of fear of losing his ultimate tool--that he would be distraught to lose the thing that he'd spent so much time training, honing to become something greater than himself. it didn't matter that it was him, just that it was endeavor's precious half-cold half-hot masterpiece: and sometimes he still feel that way, when he gets scolded after a school mission or exam. that it doesn't matter that he's his son, just that he's his creation.
so wishful thinking, that maybe endeavor isn't already on his way. that he isn't raging and screaming and demanding that his driver go faster, that he isn't just giving up halfway to fly the rest of the distance. the unfortunate realization makes him wince: he tries to hide it, twisting his face away from bakugou, but his gaze scans out across the highway, as though certain he'll see a familiar jut of red flames coming their way. it's inevitable. bakugou's right--he can't get out of something like this, no matter how much he wants to.
that doesn't mean he thinks this is a good idea. the thought of the impact of bakugou's shoulder, with the jump--his breath comes out in a rush, like he's already formulating the words of his argument, jaw locked, firm; still, his eyes are tracing the flatbed, watching its approach, and he knows that even if he takes bakugou by the arm and yanks him back, he'll still do it because that's the kind of person that he is. it's better not to waste time, then--he just has to make it as safe as he can.
which means, of course, that he's taking a step forward, priming himself to jump first--because he can always brace bakugou with ice, if he has to, as much as it might take out of him. with a short nod of confirmation, he skids up the curb of the barrier so that he can take a primed leap off the top, colliding almost instantly with the flatbed with only the smallest brace of ice to slow himself down--the truck swerves a little with the weight, but it doesn't slide out of the lane, and though the supplies bunched around him are rattled, he slides himself up onto his knees, immediately whipping his head up to look for bakugou's jump all the same.
immediately, the searing pain of the impact washes over him--it's mostly just his damaged ribs, crying out from further jostling, but there's nothing to be done about it; he folds his arm in tight against his side to press into them, his other hand poised as though he will absolutely encase bakugou in ice if he doesn't land nicely next to him in the flatbed. being protective, being in love, being the reason that bakugou's this hurt to begin with: it all mixes together with that trademark todoroki stubbornness, meaning his jaw is set into a neat little frown, determined; he's at least grateful that the driver hasn't immediately skidded to a stop yet, meaning they might have more to work with than he'd thought.
he does, at least, have the cheeky forethought to call out into the noise of the highway, as bakugou's jumping into the flatbed with him-- )
Don't you dare miss.
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Date: 1/6/25 18:15 (UTC)and yet, there are things he refuses to touch. todoroki's trauma and past came to light as more and more layers peeled back, resulting in his attention lingering on the other boy. when endeavor attended their remediation training, he found himself glancing at his classmate from the side, gauging his reaction, focus, and feelings. imperceptible as they can be on his blase face, todoroki's no longer an icy heart. emotions arise, he notices them. similar to his work in their internship under endeavor. how his voice changed when he chewed his father out for wanting to give his son special training. how his jaw set when a gruff voice tried to pull back from what he can only assume had been familiarity in shouting.
todoroki's issues with his father are far too great for his boyfriend to even remotely consider shouldering. but by the same token, what kind of shitty boyfriend would he be to let the man he loves endanger himself over pride and past? endeavor's on his way, whether todoroki likes it or not. he called the police knowing exactly what would happen. regret's a pool he doesn't permit himself to dip into often. both men are changing, breaking out of painful hells. perhaps someday, they'll be able to reach whatever plateau will permit them to coexist. so long as endeavor gets it through his thick skull he'll still be beside todoroki when that day comes.
as he readies to jump from a grassy knoll onto the bed of a truck passing towards them. is this a good idea? not the greatest. but the best one they have right now with their current situation. with their quirks on the fritz, no promise of their pursuers giving up or knowledge on their whereabouts, no steady contact with police or heroes, he doesn't feel comfortable standing around near the place they escaped from. get away, put some distance, sort their options, move. besides, he has an additional plan once they make it onto the damn truck...
todoroki moves-] Who said you get to go in front of me?! You're injured, dammit!
[boots crunch against a the metal rim, groaning it beneath down to the solid brace, and grass becomes asphalt in a flash beneath his airborne legs. one arm overhead, the other swinging to the side, and lands almost at the same time as the other hero. one leg buckles as he goes down, rolling onto his uninjured arm deliberately to avoid crushing the other one. if the driver didn't hear the impact, he'll certainly have felt the sudden weight. one of them? no. but two? duh. he quickly rolls back to his knees, planting his good hand on the truck bed and ducking to the side as a sack of fertilizer slides towards him. great. crashed into a landscaping flatbed. plenty of gardening supplies range from packaged to tied down to free resting albeit stuffed between other tools. noticing todoroki's pained wince and arm clasping to his side, he quickly puts a hand to his boyfriend's shoulder.] Lie down before you break something else.
[miss. of course he wasn't going to miss, idiot! he's jumped onto moving targets plenty of times! whether todoroki obeys him or not, the blonde twists to the side and starts making his way across the undulating grounds of supplies. there's no way the driver hasn't spotted them by now; he sees his eyes wide as dinner plates in the rear view mirror as the hero crawls towards the truck cab. oh yeah, this geezer recognizes them. all he needs is to get to that small window...
*sha-kunk!*] Gimme your damn phone, and keep driving! [now they have constant and safe access to the police and their friends, while being more or less protected.]
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Date: 1/21/25 00:06 (UTC)one of his hands lifts, almost like he wants to reach out and stop him; bakugou's might is well known, but his attitude is also equally infamous, but even as he starts to ease up onto his knees again, he knows better than to interrupt. the glass divider slides open, and bakugou makes his demands; the wind from the highway whips around them, though with all of the bags of soil and carefully-packed pallets of potted plants, it helps mitigate the impact. stunned, the driver fumbles for his phone, but passes it back to bakugou while trying to maintain both speed and accuracy.
peering up onto one knee, as though to ensure that bakugou is still fine, he settles back only once he sees bakugou's got the phone in hand. )
We should go to the hospital, first. ( that's the only demand he'll make--and he's adamant about it, calling out over the sound of the cars around them, the sound of the truck bumping along down the road. ) For your shoulder.
( it's not so much that he's being obedient: sure, bakugou told him to lay down, but he's instead sat himself up against a few stacked boxes of seed packets, one arm clutched around his chest, the other loose in his lap. a little bit of dirt bubbles and trickles down off one of the other pallets; when it lands in his hair, he hardly notices, giving an almost feline shake of his head to dust it off. )
That's where we're going. They can meet us there. ( he's still calmly saying all this out to bakugou, despite him being on the phone already--it's his own little brand of stubbornness, and maybe selfishness, in a way; there will be plenty of time to make a report, but he wants bakugou looked after, first. )
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Date: 1/28/25 04:11 (UTC)growling a quick assurance the driver's not in trouble, he slams the window shut and stalks back into the little truck bed greenhouse his boyfriend remains crouched within. greenery flaps around them through the wind, tousling todoroki's two-toned hair in its stupidly photogenic whips. nary a damn tangle. finally feeling safe enough to breathe, he pours himself onto his ass beside his partner and drops his back against the pallet. adrenaline and tourniquet make a hell of a pain stop despite the bloody injury. dried blood by now, no further wet thanks to todoroki's attention earlier.]
The nearest one is twenty minutes away. [leaning in close to talk over the wind and stay sheltered, he tilts a cupped hand holding the phone so his boyfriend can look it over. colored lines snake across its map display, one blood-stained finger indicating the highway rumbling beneath the wheels. he's not dissuading todoroki's stubborn demand. hospital's fine. they have phones, a police station nearby, and medics to inspect the other hero's busted ribs.
oy! the fuck?! tension flares in his chest, heart leaping thanks to someone's sudden violent head shaking. only realizing a second later it's due to the dirt. tch, that's kinda cute. he reaches and whaps a hand against the offending sod sack, sealing a tiny pinhole leak so no more mess leaks onto todoroki's head. doesn't need him dirtier than he already is. shoulder to shoulder, he texts their new destination to the police contact from earlier, as well as texting midoriya, iida, and yaoyorozu for the best result of communicating with their classmates. probably blaring out on the fucking news already.] All right. Everyone knows.
[enough to relay to the rest meaning "everyone" now. bakugou has to make a quick trip back to the truck cab and return the phone, as well as instruct the driver on the hospital location and which exit to take. then returns to finally rest against his boyfriend's side, eyes lidding and exhaustion rearing its ugly head.] Brave bastard...
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Date: 2/16/25 23:53 (UTC)he doesn't move, letting bakugou settle against him, and when he sees bakugou's eyes lidding, threatening to close, he stays quiet; still and sure, he squares his shoulders against the crates behind him, letting his boyfriend have a moment of rest as they head towards the hospital. it doesn't really take that long, when it comes down to it--or maybe he himself had blacked out for a few moments there, lost in the comfort of the wind whipping around them, the quiet sounds of cars around them on the highway. it's only once the truck comes to a stop, and the driver lurches out to come around to open the back of the trunk bed, that he forces himself up, letting bakugou rest there as he climbs out--he offers the driver his thanks and apologies, assuring him that they'll offer him some restitution for clamoring into his truck and losing him that tiny bit of soil; it seems only proper. then it's a blur of medical staff that comes next to retrieve bakugou from the back of the truck--he argues, adamantly, that he can walk himself inside, and instead demands focus be put on bakugou's injuries; it hurts to be separated, hurts to see bakugou being carted away inside, but he knows he can't make any silly demands, here.
this is what he wanted, and when he walks inside with the help of two other medics, he can already hear endeavor's voice in the lobby of the emergency room, arguing with one of the staff at the desk. guess he'd gotten there pretty quick after all--for now, however, he knows the staff will be too busy processing the two of them to let anyone else inside, which is honestly a relief. he hasn't decided how to explain anything to his father, just yet.
that may be the reason, in the end, that he's creeping into bakugou's room a few hours later, once he's been examined, given painkillers, and washed up; the doctor wants to keep them both for observation, though there's little to be done about the broken ribs except ice and rest, and the rest of the cuts and bruises will heal on their own. it's more bakugou that he thinks everyone is rightfully concerned with: and he's concerned most of all, gently creaking the hospital door open so that he can slide himself in as silently as possible. endeavor had been both furious and worried sick--to say nothing of the way bakugou's mother had been, swearing up and down that she'd find the people that did this in a flurry of expletives that even he had never heard before. for now, they've been cleared of visitors thanks to the late hour: which means that it's just bakugou in the room, as he creeps towards the empty chair near the end of his hospital bed, trying not to wake him if he's asleep.
when he eases down into it, it's slow, a wheezing breath as he tries not to dislodge the pack of ice he's got held against his side--immediately his gaze goes to bakugou, as though if he doesn't watch him in the bed, then he might not be there when he looks again. sure, their parents and even aizawa-sensei might be fiercely protective, but he thinks that his sharp desire to keep bakugou safe might even rival theirs; once he's contented that bakugou is still there, beneath the thin hospital sheets, he settles, slouching slightly in the chair to get more comfortable. )
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Date: 2/26/25 16:51 (UTC)last thought. he's left behind everything else until a metallic clank breaks through his mind. red eyes flicker open, one arm instinctively flashing to the side and crossing todoroki's chest with his hand aimed towards the noise source. protective and defensive all in one without even being fully awake. only to quickly blink out of slumber and focus on the world round them once more. right. truck, trip, hospital, police call, kidnappers, rushing back in and plunging into his brain with a might splash. damn you, half-n-half, for having such a comfortable shoulder! put a spike on that thing so he doesn't get tempted to use it as his pillow! grumbling, he permits todoroki to move first, only after assuring himself it's only the trucker. he makes to get up, but finds both legs refusing to move. fuck... he didn't lose that much blood, did he? a glance at his bandages suggest he, in fact, might have. crawling after his partner isn't even an option with only one working arm. left sitting in the truck bed, half-slumped as he is, he glares daggers at the man and his boyfriend, daring anything to go wrong until the medics arrive and his world turns into a hospital television drama. god he hates this stupid place...
hours later, he's once again in the damn white sheets and teal smock. wouldn't be surprised if it's the same shitty pair from his last trip to the hospital (never mind this one's hundreds of fucking miles away from that one). an iv remains in his arm, hooked to the nearby drip bag. blood transfusion at least took place already while he was out. proper medical attention given to the bullet wound. given it passed though muscle only and not bone, he'll be fine. recovery girl is making her trip here, though won't be arriving until tomorrow. her help should mend todoroki's ribs and impact-shocked organs, as well as fill in the torn muscles in the other hero's arm. for now, patch up and rest is the dosage prescribed. though there's additional concern about the drug used to mute their quirks for the time. both had their blood drawn to start working out answers on the cancellation front. chisaki might be imprisoned, but his work remains at large. all these thoughts swim round n his head before a gentle click of door lock and knob snap him from his mental filing. what, did todoroki really think he'd be asleep after that fucking tirade his mother went on?! they two were yelling a while ago, mother's tough love versus son's petulant recoiling. he's glad the room's quiet now.
red eyes follow his boyfriend across the room, noting his stiff movements, the ice pack on his side, and a bandage n his cheek. looks like he got his own stupid once over. hospital mint green isn't his color. once again, bandages cover the blonde hero's arm, this time avoiding his shoulder and instead focused on his upper arm. who knows if it'll scar since the wound was surprisingly clean. probably will. that's the nature of heroes and injuries. scars mean you were strong enough to live through it. only after todoroki's gotten his ass settled in the chair does he move his good arm and reach out to let it hover over the edge of the bed, fingers opening towards his boyfriend.]
Should've moved that over here. [can't well hold his hand from the foot of his bed now can you, icyhot?]
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Date: 3/16/25 23:51 (UTC)none of that matters, now. his gaze slides, to where bakugou's good arm slides over the edge of the bed--and he stares at it for a moment, considering, like it's a puzzle he's trying to work out.
right. he wants to hold hands. that's right, isn't it? with a soft duck of his chin, he skids himself out of the chair, reaching with one arm to slowly screech it across the floor; it ends up nestled right next to the bed, and carefully, he sinks himself back down into it, tucking his knees together since he's given himself a distinct lack of space in order to get as close as possible. his hands shift; the new one holds the ice pack to his own side, gently, while the other lifts, cold, to calmly fold bakugou's hand into his. )
Do you need water? Painkillers? A sweater?
( solemnly, his gaze lifts back up to bakugou's face, as though trying to work out how he feels just by looking at him. it would be easy to call a nurse, though she'd likely tell him to go back to his own bed: and he would, if only to return a few minutes later. he doesn't want to stand in the way of anything bakugou needs.
cold fingers slide, gently, working their way between bakugou's knuckles, clutching his hand a little more firmly. )
You really worked yourself up. ( the shouting match with his mother, he means. a part of him had been almost impressed. ) It sounded intense. I apologized to your mother, but I'll do it again...properly.
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Date: 4/11/25 23:02 (UTC)tch, he'll deal with his guilt later. cool sheets ghost beneath his forearm as he slides it from his side to the mattress' edge, hand hovering over empty space in an offering for todoroki to take. that's what a hero does, right? reaching out to anyone who needs a helping hand. even other heroes. albeit, he's not the nicest hero and ends up clicking his tongue in annoyance when the other boy doesn't seem to "get it" for a few seconds. seriously?]
Oy. Don't make me wait. [he's not hovering his damn hand over empty space for his health. only to bristle instantly as nails rake through his earn and send his hair spiking up even more all over his head.] Dammit! You're so loud! Pick it up first! [bastard's dragging it cross the floor and summoning scrapes and screeches from a fucking four-legged banshee! he's making a damn cacophony in the hospital room! todoroki finally kills it with a plunk beside his bed, cushion huffing a sigh as he sinks down within the frame. mattaku...
cool skin settles on his own, fingers across the hell of his palm before folding over the sides as their palm meld together in a perpendicular embrace. for several seconds, he lingers on the sensation. noting so many things about todoroki's touch. his hand's large, taking his own in matching grip. fingers slender and strong, knuckles rolling under his fair skin as lithe bones flutter on the back of his hand. calloused from work, yet comforting and gentle. a hero's hands, taking so many actions today over his safety. regardless of his own...]
Stop fretting, Half-and-Half. The doctors already did their shit. [red eyes meet teal and slate, holding them with a firm reprimand in their heated depths. no pain, no struggle, only a quiet comfort he takes with his boyfriend beside him. there's nothing he needs right now. water, done. meds, taken. checkup, finished. the last on the list, rest, is gonna happen as soon as he gets this fretting dork settled. fingertips sift into the valleys of his knuckles, smoothing down the back of his hand as their fingers link together. he folds his own over todoroki's clasp, fitted perfectly between his knuckles, tips brushing over his skin.]
Tch. She came in here yelling like a monster. I just told her to shut the fuck up. [hah, as if. he said a lot more, which only set her off again. typical scene between them, given the expression on his father's face.] Don't. You don't have anything to apologize for.
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Date: 4/27/25 21:22 (UTC)( he says it so stubbornly that it's almost too obvious that it's something of a lie; even he can recognize that, as his lips close together, not quite a sulk but not quite a frown, either. instead, he lets his gaze go around the room, just once, as though reassuring everything is the way it should be: beyond the door, it's quiet, there's nothing suspicious anywhere, nothing that he should be concerned about. the machines are all working the way they should, and bakugou's here, being bakugou, so there's little to be worrying about there. is it just that he's still stuck in that place? having to argue with endeavor always puts him into a certain mood, and his instincts are to shut down, wall up, express himself in icy sentences; his free hand lifts, even though he knows he should continue diligently holding the ice pack, combing a few cold fingers in through his bangs just to give the excuse of doing something.
it's not that he doubts him. it's not that he thinks bakugou is lying to him, because he's not that type of person at all. but it's hard to settle in as though things will be okay; it's hard to just brush it off when a part of him still feels the exhausted exhilaration of stress and anxiety, being where they were. it's not needed, now, and yet his body still feels like it has to be there, tense and ready to jump, to protect bakugou--who doesn't even need his protecting in the first place, really. he's not weak. he's definitely not weak, not after everything he saw today, too. but it's like having the threat of something precious, something that he never thought he'd have to begin with, getting taken away--
his hand slides back down, firmly shaking his head. )
No. It's proper. I put you in a situation that wasn't right, for the sake of...
( he doesn't know how to articulate it. how can he say we got into this mess because i wanted to take advantage of being at a love hotel with you that doesn't end up sounding so trite and disgusting? his gaze slides down to their hands, where he gives bakugou's fingers a gentle squeeze. )
...You know. She didn't seem upset with me, but I'd still like to apologize properly.
( at least send her something small, which won't be a problem for him. if anything, he's sure that both parents have likely been talking to each other outside their rooms anyway.
when his gaze lifts, it's to study bakugou's shoulder--and then blink over to his face, trying for a faint smile. )
You were a good hero. I'm impressed. ( he's trying to lighten his own sullen mood--but the words he comes up with almost make him want to laugh, a tease that's so obvious and silly that it almost breaks his own personal tension. ) Let's team up again soon.
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Date: 5/25/25 18:56 (UTC)of course it's not easy to settle down! they were kidnapped, drugged and dragged to another location in attempt to do fucking something with them! sounded like some kind of thought went into their capture more than petty ransom holding. if their quirks hadn't been muted, they could've brought the place down and been the ones dragging those shitty bastards to the police instead of the police coming to them. he's far too aware of todoroki's feelings right now. a lingering crawl up the nape, wondering if their current area's safe. if they aren't being watched. a human's bubble of safety once popped is hard to repair again without scars. ever alert, ever ready for someone to jump out and grab again. he's been there, faced it, beaten it down, but never completely rid himself of it. and now he has to deal with the other side of that trauma... not his own capture, but someone close to him. was this how midoriya felt after the forest training camp? a roaring frustrating building up inside, flagellating himself with all the "if only" and "what if" scenarios playing out in his mind? a heavy onus if "my fault" crushes at his shoulders and he snarls trying to buck the shit off.]
Haa?! Like hell you did! If I didn't want to be in there with you, I would've said no, you dumbass! [as much as he hates sharing his victories with others (albeit, gotten better about it), he despises someone blaming themselves for a mistake or problem he caused. he's not some fucking coward who hides behind another person or blames the onus of his own mistakes on someone else. so hell with letting todoroki take the fall for their own bad decision. cue crushing the other boy's hand in his fist, definitely enough to "hurt" and snap him out of his glum wallowing.] We both decided.
[shut up brain! there was no way they could've predicted the room was set up as an additional trap! hell, he can't say it was trap designed for them specifically, as they came there following a lead and decided to stake out instead of giving up and leaving. maybe it was an elaborate ruse, but... tch, he's not gonna live a paranoid life.]
Ajisai. [hydrangea. if he must.] She's gonna tell you the same thing. [that it wasn't his fault, that it's okay, that katsuki's fine now and he should've been more alert. all heroes risk this; they knew such when choosing their path in life. he doesn't wanna think about his parents talking with todoroki's outside. who the hell knows what they're saying about them? probably getting along so fucking well right now. he turns his head and directs his glare to the door. hmph.]
"GOOD"?! I'm an awesome hero, Half-n-Half Bastard!! [and now his attention swings back to todoroki, all teeth and fiery eyes yelling at him. he pauses at seeing his face lit up with a silly little smile, knowing it's both true and false. trying to cover up how he's really feeling inside... tense as a wire.] Tch! Ask me whenever you want. I'll do even better than you.
[he eases his grip on todoroki's hand, thumb brushing along his knuckles to comfort him.]
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Date: 6/8/25 21:06 (UTC)right. he needs to apologize to midoriya, too, and he doesn't think that flowers are going to cut it. this is the second time that bakugou's been spirited away by someone else; that sort of wound cuts deep, even if this time, no one else is responsible for it but him. bakugou might be arguing and saying that it's a shared responsibility, but he's too stubbornly attached to his own blame to allow his boyfriend to take any part of it.
so he sits there for a moment, smile melting down into a stone-faced frown, and doesn't refute it--but doesn't agree, either. in the battle of stubborn wills, sometimes he and bakugou are quite evenly matched. )
Mm. ( a soft nod of agreement, of indication, about the flowers; he can do that easily. ) Then...
( his hand feels a little limp in bakugou's grip; not because he doesn't want to hold onto him, but because a part of him likes it like this, likes letting bakugou take the reins and squeeze or brush or thread their fingers together how he wants it. he doesn't want to get in the way. )
Let's team up now. ( a ghost of that smile returns, only briefly, but his free hand adjusts the ice pack and then, after a moment, reaches slowly so that he can set it on the small table at bakugou's bedside. ) Our mission is to get you back to sleep.
( a slight glance, mismatched gaze focused on bakugou's face, but he's gently freeing his hand from the other's grip so that he can plant his palms on the bed and slowly, carefully, push himself up onto his feet. )
I'll warm you up.
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Date: 6/24/25 17:52 (UTC)they'll need to work it out inside themselves too. shame and fury bubble inside him far down at the moment, ready and willing an ascent once he has more clear room to vent his ire. how the hell could he get kidnapped again?! and with one of his strongest classmates at that?! he should've seen the risks, should've stopped them both from indulging, should've contacted someone and made sure they had another set of eyes watching them! so many "should've" ideas swarming about his mind and feasting on his budding regrets. like hell is he gonna let todoroki take the blame.
too stubborn and proud and kind to let such a failure go without debt. yes, they escaped, but they hadn't stopped the person coming after them, hardly had information to give save for descriptions of appearances and the location of the warehouse. (and the love hotel they got captured from. fucking embarrassing mentioning that.) todoroki isn't backing down and neither is he. they both know that.]
Haa? I can go to sleep on my own! [dammit, he would've been asleep if someone hadn't come into his room and sat down to stare at him until a conversation prompted! yet he isn't letting go, fingers remaining curled around a strong hand, thumb tracing between bony mounds of knuckles and along slender tendons tracing the back of his hand. full rein to do as he pleases with the touches. because he demanded todoroki bring himself closer earlier. for this reason.
doesn't mean he's agreeing with someone's plan to team up for sleep, dammit! he clicks his tongue in annoyance as his ice pack slides away, too proud to say thanks because the damn thing was starting to turn his skin numb. as fingers drift out of his hand and the taller boy braces his hands on the bed in preparation, he eyes him with a wary gaze, lips pursed to the side in slight miff. really? he thinks it's a good idea to join him in a fucking hospital bed? ... hmph, not like he has a serious injury. a bullet wound through the arm is nothing compared to getting skewered in the guts.] Stay on my left side.
[they're gonna get yelled at by the nurse later.]
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Date: 7/22/25 19:14 (UTC)it's a stupid idea. he should be good, and go back to his room, but a part of him hates leaving things like this--hates leaving things with a war of stubborn wills, rather than anything else, and even if he can see bakugou, and feel his hand, and listen to the aggravated grumble of his voice, there's something else entirely different about touching him up close, laying his head in the crook of his neck, listening to him swallow and breathe.
he's in a little too deep, here. he knew it before all this, before risking his life, before going boneless in the bath at the love hotel, before their date, before any of it. but rather than drag himself out of it, or pull away, the way that he thinks he's been taught to do--the way that endeavor would likely instruct him to do--he forces himself past the little trickle of fear. forces his hands to shift on the bed, instead of retreat: forces himself to gently, carefully, walk his way onto the bed on hands and knees, careful to shift over to bakugou's left side as instructed.
the bed sinks a little, with his added weight, and his ribs ache--he forces himself to take in a slow breath, measured, as he settles himself in onto his good side, trying to take up as little space as possible while also inching himself in against bakugou's side as much as he can manage. )
...Don't say things like that. ( he decides to finally say, matter-of-fact, as his mismatched gaze rounds up on bakugou's profile; his lips purse together, like he's scolding him a little, gently, and his closest arm lifts up so that he can reach for bakugou's cheek, pinching it playfully between thumb and index finger. )
I don't want you to be able to go to sleep on your own all the time.
( i want you to need me, a little. )
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Date: 8/13/25 15:29 (UTC)their fight settles in his chest, tension melts out his shoulders into his bed sheets. what a lie to himself at being alone. each time he closes his eyes, images come back. his boyfriend chained, a man he doesn't know touching him, some sicko looking at his hero with materialistic gaze, todoroki's expression wrenched in pain with each step as they ran. ran away. one memory after another takes a shot into his heart. until a hand settles on his own, a warm voice drifts into his ear, his presence burning away nightmare seeds. fuck the hospital rules.
it's dangerous for a hero to love, isn't it. opening his heart for someone else to plant a cord within his flesh and muscle, forever tethered and vulnerable. day after day, he risks his life, and by proxy, the happiness and safety of the man he loves. what can he say to todoroki's dripping face in the rain as he lies in a pool of blood? the same quiet words he spoke to him in a bath's warm embrace as they indulged in each other's bodies and pleasure? no... all logic slammed his heels into his brain when he realized what happened. called himself a stupid fool. run! avoid it! the strong have no weakness! what a moron, thinking of todoroki as his weakness. hands press to the bed, denting sheet material around his palms as the other hero climbs in beside him on all fours. this man gave him more strength, more reason to survive and live and win, than any weakness or threat he could ever face.]
Don't put weight on your bad side. [as if he forgot todoroki's nursing his own injuries. busted ribs, shoulder impact, each breath a conscious decision. he keeps his body still, one hand half-lifted in case he needs to catch or direct him as he situates. as much as he wants to tell him to lie on his back or front, someone's gotta be a stubborn butt and snuggle up to him on edge. only when he's settled close does he finally slip his arm around todoroki's shoulder and pull him close. chest to ribs, heads close enough to rest his own against soft mismatched hair. the scent of shampoo and medicine and something uniquely todoroki draws in with his breath. balming.]
Hmph. Saying that kinda crap while I'm injured. [as sappy as it is arousing. really should headbutt him for being such a pain in the ass out of nowher-] Ngh?! Oy!! [what the hell's with this cheek pinching bullshit?! he gets two or three good grips before he tugs his head to the side with a petulant snarl. is he some little old lady going after a preschooler?! he hikes his shoulder (wincing slightly, bad arm) and rubs his cheek into it aggressively. even embarrassed, he hears todoroki's underlying words, what he really means... bastard's gonna make his heart go too damn fast! and he's so close, of course he'll feel it, if not hear the stupid thing!] Then start looking for apartments.
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Date: 10/12/25 22:11 (UTC)that cheek gets pulled away from his pinching, but that's fine. the punishment's been made, and more importantly, his point has been made, too. it's stupid to assert that bakugou might need anyone, stupid to demand that he need him, of all people, but that's what a relationship is about, isn't it? being able to accept that measure of weakness, being able to contend with it, being able to understand that there are risks just as much as there are benefits to the idea. oddly, despite all of his bad examples, he's never had a problem with that idea: endeavor might see his family as just an extension of his own ego, but he's never thought of it like that at all.
this situation proves it to him, too--they worked together. they wouldn't have made it this far otherwise.
still, bakugou's words surprise him, in the comfortable haze he's settled into, his cheek pressed softly over the top of bakugou's chest, tucked against him. in silence, he considers them; his tongue races out over his lips, as though trying to connect the dots.
finally, like always, he lifts his chin up, digs it into bakugou's chest to peer up at him: )
I should look for apartments? ( and then, a dash of disappointment: ) You want me out of the dorm?
( it hits him, there, only once the words are past his lips--and then he's pursing them together, embarrassed, a slight frown fit at the corners of his mouth for his own inadequacy. )
You mean an apartment together. For us. ...Together.
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