👿 Open Post 3

[blastedass]

Open Post

What to hit up Bakugo for some action? Feel free to do whatever here!



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[hairsplit]

( it's in moments like these that he's reminded of how stubborn they both are; he won't try to say that he isn't, although any comparison that someone draws between him and his father tends to land on a cool expression, an icy gaze, and a hardened heart. he can't live the rest of his life thinking that he's so entirely different--just as he can't live the rest of his life thinking that he's so entirely the same. he may be his son, and he may have grown up sequestered only only endeavor's upbringing, for most of his childhood, but that doesn't mean that he has to be him, or that he has to be the thing that endeavor wanted him to be, either. he has a choice in the matter: a choice that midoriya, of all people, made apparent to him. it's times like these, too, that he wonders if midoriya would be a better buffer between the two of them--they're likely going to keep going back and forth about blame and fault and guilt for awhile.

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.

[blastedass]

[he wants the guy who took the entire burden of the league of villains, all for one, shigaraki, and the upcoming war on his shoulders, abandoned the school and friends who supported him for almost a year of his life, sneaked out like a damn coward, left behind personal tell-all notes he couldn't even deliver himself, and then skulked about the country by himself in an ever-degrading state attempting to hold together the snapping seams of society and stop everything bad from happening, all because he thought it was his responsibility alone and couldn't bear the guilt of endangering his friends with his mission... todoroki wants that guy to intercede between them about which of them shares the heavier onus of blame and fault in their shitty kidnapping? what a fucking joke. midoriya would somehow find a way to feel guilty about his classmates being captured in the first place and heap it on his own head like a punishment glutton. they don't need his interjections to handle this. they can work it out on their own.

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.]

[hairsplit]

( the hesitation there is only for a moment--it's been a long time since he's worried about bakugou's truthful rejection, and it's been so long since they first messed around like this that a part of him forgets what it felt like to wonder. to be so entirely entranced by another person, to fall so stupidly into feelings for him that he could hardly bring himself to consider any alternative, to be afraid that in the end, he might end up alone, forced to contend with feelings and desires and wants that he's never felt before. despite bakugou's attitude and his sharp words and his sometimes blunt delivery, he doesn't think that bakugou would have been cruel about it: but even so, the thought of losing something so precious is a terrifying little thing, and even now, from time to time, he wonders if he's holding on too hard, if he's being good enough, if he's doing anything that might even make bakugou consider any alternative.

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. )

[blastedass]

[how long's it been since he kicked over the table beneath todoroki's arms, shouted in his face for daring to think of anything other than him in their upcoming match? ever since he saw the guy, he pissed him off, erupted a vein-pulsing indignation inside him. for the first time in his life, someone walked in threatening to be his equal. looks, brains, power, drive. it was different than midoriya's looming shadow he always felt was so far beyond him. a rising fire blazing open beside him from nowhere, threatening to wipe out all his progress in one icy swipe. he hated him. because for a moment, he looked at todoroki and despaired. then crushed his own feelings in rage. one interaction after another clawed his way to equal footing again, running alongside his one-sided rival as he snarked orders, yelling his name in concern without thinking, smirking in satisfaction upon hearing of his victory. somewhere along his journey, hate became tolerance, tolerance became acceptance, acceptance to admiration, admiration to affection. the same he feels even now in a hospital bed, letting this dumbass break the "rules" of medical etiquette and climb into bed with him while he's sporting a fucking injury. if he's gone through all that, up to this very point... how the hell could todoroki continue to think he's able to consider any alternative? he left that moment behind him a long time ago. this man is his future. no matter how tightly he holds on, or what stupid thing he does to piss him off.

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.

[hairsplit]

( like always: it's in one ear and out the other. bakugou might scold him or bark instructions at him, but he knows what he's doing, or rather, knows what he's going to do, no matter who might tell him not to. at this point, he thinks he might even fight a nurse if he had to, just to stay here a little longer--he knows he won't be able to sleep here, permanently, that the nurses will do their rounds and he'll be shuttled off back to his bed with a gentle warning, but for now, there's nowhere else that he would rather be, or, more than that: nowhere else that he'll allow himself to be. he needs to be pressed up against bakugou's side, soaked into the shape of him, letting that distinct, sweet smell curl up into him like a soothing balm.

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.

[blastedass]

[stubborn bastard. why'd he have to fall in love with someone as willing to move as a glacier? growl at him for wanting to sleep beside an injured boyfriend and those dual-colored eyes stare back at him without hearing a damn word. it'd be fun to watch shouto fight a nurse, but he's too tired to deal with that kind of noise. argue about it in the morning, when he growls at the matron to find a cot and bring it into his room. IF he even needs it. because he'll be doing his damnest to get out of the hospital tomorrow! these injuries are nothing compared to past wounds! fuck wasting away in a stupid bed. doctors prodding and coddling him. piss off, he knows what he can and can't do- OW! fuck! watch where you're putting that hand, half-n-half!] Are you trying to break my ribs?!

[barely a clunk, more a brush, and he's whisper snarling into his boyfriend's face while they settle under medical sheets and blankets. has to tug the entire thing up so those long ass legs can slot down within his own body-warmed wrap and put cold toes to his feet and ankles. che! letting shouto get away with too much. he nudges one leg aside, pushes at the cloth weight tucked so hard below the mattress on all corners, and hooks his ankle over his, gathering those lower legs into his own for a lazy tangle. better than pinching his stupid cheek.

lying on his good side, bad arm resting along his body's skyline, he takes in each facet of shouto's visage. how his bangs hand sideways from his pillow-propped head, broad shoulders taller than his own in this supine position, expression comfortable and bland as always. far better than his concerned frightened face shouting at him and staring worried at his blood. a hero always risks things... not only their own lives, but the people they love and care for. is it weakness or strength to have those bonds? shouto might not have gotten hurt if he hadn't tried to protect him. but that's also part of being a hero... my body, your shield. your love, my strength.

losing sight of his face, he rolls onto his back and lets shouto get comfortable on his chest, head resting atop his heart for each reassuring thud beneath his ribs. no, he's grown up. realized a long time ago people, while annoying, are strengths that come with weaknesses. weaknesses he has to contend with and protect. going back to pure solo... there's no going back to how he used to be. the future's together. fingers slowly drum along shouto's shoulder from where he's hooked his arm around his boyfriend's body, red eyes gazing up at the ceiling in half-lidded contemplation.]

Of course together! Do all that mental gymnastics in your head next time, dumbass. [sheesh! he didn't have to walk him through his stupor turned sadness turned contemplation turned realization. took him long enough to put it together. a wet curl behind his teeth and he clicks his tongue in annoyance tinged with taunting amusement.] Think you're strong enough to live with me?