Archive of Our Own

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

Dabbing his forehead nervously with a handkerchief, the hotel manager replied, “Unfortunately, I’m not.” his eyes sought the other hero standing next to Bakugo for assistance, “The situation being as it is, everyone’s flight had been put on hold for the ti—” when Bakugo’s scowl turned on full force, the manager stumbled over his words to correct himself, “As y-you of course know, being the heroes who s-saved us a-an—“

“Give him a break, Bakugo.” Todoroki sighed, sounding beyond exhausted, “He’s doing his best given the circumstances.”

He turned to face him, “Give me your opinion when I ask for it.”

“Camie is in a room by herself.” He said, unbothered by the scathing glare thrown his way, “If you can’t handle being in the same room with me, you can stay the night there instead. I don’t think she’d mind.”

“I can’t handle it?” If looks could kill, Todoroki would be dead a hundred times in the most gruesome and horrid ways.

“Sure sounds like it.” He raised an eyebrow in the manager’s direction, like he expected him to agree with him or some shit.

Bakugo dared the manager to even breathe. The overworked man only clutched his handkerchief harder, skin white like he’d seen a ghost, and quickly averted his eyes.

“I understand if you can’t of course.” The insufferable prick continued calmly, “Camie is in the lobby. Should I call her?”

“Why don’t you crash with her?”

“I’m not the one throwing a tantrum over a room.”

“I’m terribly sorry we can’t accommodate such splendid heroes,” the incompetent manager placated,  “As soon as any hotel guest vacates a room, I’ll make sure you’ll be the first to know.” A woman stepped out of the reception counter and presented them with two key cards for their cursed room.

Todoroki immediately pocketed his and curtly thanked the lady. He grabbed his two bags from the floor and turned towards the elevators.

Dissonant, Bakugo watched his retreating back. Anxiety simmering underneath his skin. He clicked his tongue and swiped the card from the receptionist’s extended hand, disregarding her good wishes for them to have a relaxing time in their joke of a hotel.

Relaxing, my ass.

Please. He’d laugh if he could.

He shouldn’t have listened to their stupid suggestion to come to this place. He’d told Best Jeanist that literally anyone else in their agency could do a better job at presenting them in the Heroes Science Conference. But did anyone ever listen to him? Hell would freeze over before that happened.

For some reason or another, the conference was held in Fukue island. A small island that holds absolutely no charm on its own, located in the western coast of Kyushu. One small airport, one hotel, and a handful of landmarks. It felt like a huge cage.

And maybe that's exactly what it was.

When the agency staff were arranging his trip itinerary, he’d refused to stay in the island longer than absolutely necessary. He got shit to do. So he made them book a same day flight and never bothered with a hotel. He’d be on time for the conference and out of there as soon as it's done.

There, he had the misfortune of meeting a lot of old acquaintances. Camie was alright, he guessed, but his ex-classmate and competition on the billboard Shouto Todoroki? No. That was torture.

An exaggerated reaction, maybe, but his reasons made perfect sense to him.

Consequently, he tried to avoid him like the plague.

Little did everyone in the conference and the island knew that they’d be the target of the criminal organization PURGE. An organization hellbent on eradicating all heroes and the wealthy. How fucking original.

The first attack targeted the airport terminal, effectively cutting them off of any outside reinforcements. The second was of course, the conference itself.

The heroes had suited up and split into groups by the time the second attack happened, directing civilians to the city’s shelter, providing the island’s small police force with much needed backup, and fighting off the villains.

Bakugo and Todoroki headed to the terminal with the medical team. And as much as he hated to admit it, when the two of them worked together, they were remarkably compatible and competent at what they did, it was exhilarating.

They did everything in perfect sync. He never bothered to voice out his plan or intentions, yet Todoroki somehow followed through every step of the way. When he created his ice wall in front of the escaping helicopter, giving Bakugo the last opening he needed to effectively blast the metal into the ground, Todoroki had called his name with so much pride. Crimson eyes widened when he saw the other smiling his way, happy and enamored. His heart clenched and he looked away.

The police had arrived to assess the situation and lock some assholes behind bars. Not before Bakugo had let off some steam punching one of them though. He needed to know the reason behind the attack. If there ever was one.

They stayed in the terminal, helping out until the fire was under control and making sure no one was missed under the debris. The police assured them that they got everything covered and provided them with stats about the villains. By then, it was getting pretty late. They were escorted to the only hotel the island bothered building, which upon their late arrival was fully booked by the conference attendees.

Except for one room.

Of fucking course.

He violently assaulted the elevator’s button and waited as he flipped his key card between his fingers agitatedly. He did not like where this was going. Not at all.

He got into the quiet elevator, listening to his own heartbeat steadily accelerating. He stared unseeingly at an old stain on the carpet, mind racing with hundreds of thoughts a second. There was always the option to stay at some locals homes, crash there for the night. They were grateful to them and hospitable enough to offer.

He swallowed. Maybe he should’ve considered Camie’s after all.

The monotonal ding cut his disgruntled musing short and he stepped out. His feet never felt so heavy.

He sighed in relief when he stepped inside the room and heard the shower water running. A little more time for himself definitely did not hurt. The room was a standard five stars hotel room type, clean white linen, long curtains, and two uncomfortable looking chairs with a small coffee table. It was fine. Small, but fine. Every piece of furniture was squished together. In different circumstances, he wouldn’t even notice but in this situation it felt a little claustrophobic. The two queen beds had less than two feet between them.

One of the beds already had Todoroki’s phone thrown atop it with a duffle bag and the standard hero suitcase on the floor next it. He placed his suitcase on his bed and opened it, staring wordlessly at the tailored evening suit he had on before the actual evening went to shit, got it out and stuffed it in the laundry plastic bag he got from the closet. He started taking off his boots, gauntlets and supportive items and placing each item carefully inside the case.

His heart picked up speed again when he heard the water turn off. Fishing out his phone from his pocket, he distracted himself with the police updates. Seemed like the airport maintenance would start first thing in the morning and reinforcement would reach the island around late afternoon since the situation was already under control.

Good. He couldn’t wait to be out of here.

Todoroki walked into the room wrapped in the hotel’s white bathrobe and a towel over his head. He was avoiding looking in his direction almost as much as Bakugo was. Bakugo clicked his tongue and stomped his way to the bathroom. He stuffed his dirty clothes in the laundry bag and started his shower. Immediately melting under the perfect pressure of the ceiling shower head, letting the grime of the day slide off and the tension seep off of him. Small mercies.

After a while, Bakugo sighed and decided he had spent an unorthodox amount of time in the shower. The avoidance tactic was so painfully obvious. He slowly dried his hair with the hairdryer then took the bathrobe from the heated towel rack, put it on and stepped out, letting the steam out into the cool room air.

Only outside with his plastic bag in hand did he realize that, well… shit. He had nothing to wear to bed.

He found Todoroki sitting in a comfortable looking sleeping clothes, immersed in whatever was on his phone. He didn’t look up.

Bakugo stood awkwardly next to his own bed, weighing his options for the night. He saw nowhere around it. He was going to sleep in the bathrobe. He called the hotel laundry service. He gestured for Todoroki, “You have laundry too?”

Todoroki nodded.

Within half an hour, he handed the valet their plastic bags and went back to his bed.

“You need something to wear?”

He looked up from his phone to his current roommate who was leaning his head against the cushioned bed frame and peering at him curiously. “I can sleep in this.” Bakugo did not need help. Specifically his, "Didn’t plan on staying the night on this fucking island.” He felt the need to explain.

Todoroki leaned over to rummage through his duffle bag, “I have this,” he offered a plain grey hoodie, “I was told that the weather is unstable here.”

“I said I’m fine.” he snapped. It grated on his nerves that he, for the first time, was the ill-prepared one.

He didn’t miss the subtle glance to his exposed chest, “You sure?”

Fuck yeah he was sure. In fact, he was absolutely sure he didn’t want anything of his anywhere near his body.

Todoroki shrugged, put his hoodie back in the bag and prepared for bed, “Suit yourself.” He got comfortable under the covers and turned his back to Bakugo, “Good night.”

He glowered at his covered silhouette for a solid minute before stretching to turn the lights off from the master switch and faced the other way too.

Bakugo waited for the other’s breathing to even out before allowing sleep to overtake him.

—

Craving.

A kiss that wasn’t really a kiss. Desperate clash of teeth and lips, tongues too clumsy in their timid exploration, quickly gaining dazed, youthful confidence. Their first, and definitely not their last.

They had been gravitating towards each other for far too long. Misplaced anger. Countless misunderstandings and tireless arguments. And in a rare moment of clarity, they took a step that did not seem to be an option until that very moment.

It was a painful kiss. Yet, fire was ignited within it. Alive and all-consuming.

When their lips parted, his mind scrambled to find an excuse for letting this happen. For welcoming it. For savoring it. His panic was extinguished when desperate mismatched eyes pleaded with him softly, “Can I kiss you more?”

—

The smell of coffee wafted to his nose, stirring him awake from blissful dreamless sleep. Bakugo blinked bleary eyes and squinted at the sunlight that filtered through sheer curtains, barely recognizing the place. He quickly scanned the room to where a familiar figure was standing in front of the coffee machine. A white t-shirt was snug around broad shoulders and looser the lower it slid, accentuating the slope of his back, messy white and red strands pointed in every direction.

Bakugo bit his lip, feeling something flutter in the pit of his stomach.

Todoroki’s lips delicately sipped from his cup, savoring its content. It must have been some really good coffee because he smiled to himself, satisfied. Bakugo’s sleep-fogged brain swam with images of those lips doing something else entirely.

A buzz under his pillow cut his daydream short and he colored in realization that he was having a very vivid reverie in the first place. He straightened in his bed and fished for his phone. It was Camie, asking them if they’d like to go out with her and like, totally explore the island.

He huffed, trying to stop a smile. She even texts like that.

“Good morning,” Todoroki spoke, voice still thick with sleep.

He swallowed, urging his throat to cooperate, and muttered a low ‘hey’ back.

Todoroki put his cup down and placed a clean cup under the machine and started making a new one. It poured into the cup, smooth with a perfect dark blonde crema. Todoroki placed the espresso cup on its saucer and Bakugo watched in bewilderment as he brought it to him. “You should try this.”

Almost like he was in a trance, Bakugo took the offered coffee and sipped, it rolled like velvet on his tongue. He closed his eyes. Strong, thick with a sweet undertone. “It’s good.” He peered up from under his lashers to the man still hovering over his bed.

Scarlet. To his ears. Todoroki teared his eyes away from Bakugo and stared at a spot somewhere on the wall behind him instead, “Uh, that’s— that’s good,” His hand was flexing on his side, almost nervously, “Your robe.” He weakly said and swiftly walked back to his own neglected coffee.

Bakugo blinked and looked down.

It was only by divine intervention that he did not screech in horror. The robe was hanging on one shoulder while the other end was around his elbow, his chest was fully exposed, and really, he could live with that. But the unmistakable tented sheets covering his morning wood? (And he’d vehemently deny that he’d got the aforementioned wood after waking up).

Scrambling to put the coffee on the nightstand, Bakugo hurriedly put his feet on the carpeted floor, pulled his robe up and tightened the knot around his waist almost to a painful point. All the blood rushed to his face in embarrassment, which is a good thing because it meant none was going south. He glared at his crotch. Fucking traitorous piece of shit!

“I’ll order room service,” Todoroki said, voice neutral as if nothing had happened, “I’m starving.”

“Whatever.” He was not ready to face him yet with his face still feeling like it was set aflame. He went to the bathroom instead, washing his face with ice cold water, resisting the urge to bang his head against the mirror and knock himself out entirely. This was so fucking humiliating.

This was the second time he used the bathroom as an escape plan. It’s ridiculous. He vigorously brushed his teeth with the sorry excuse of a toothbrush that the hotel provided and got out. He found Todoroki receiving their clean clothes from the valet. Thank fuck.

He snatched them from Todoroki’s hand and quickly got to dressing, only forgoing the jacket and tie. “Any word from the terminal?”

“Still not working. The runway is badly damaged, so it’ll take until tonight.” He opened the curtains all the way and sat on the chair next to it.

Bakugo took his phone from his bed and sat on the opposite chair. “This would’ve been done yesterday if Cementos was here.”

“Few on the island have flashy quirks. The ones who do get out of here to seek opportunities in the city.”

Bakugo only hummed in reply. Tapping his phone, he recalled, “Camie is inviting us to ‘like, hang out’,” he added a sarcastic drawl to match Camie’s speech and stretched in his chair, “I’m not going but I thought I’d let you know cause she’s inviting us both.”

“And why aren’t you going?” he curiously asked.

“None of your business.” he snapped back on reflex. Todoroki’s expression didn’t even change. He clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing to see in Fukue. And it’s not like I want to hang out with her.”

Apparently something he said amused Todoroki because there was a tiny smile playing on his lips, “But you need clothes.”

He crossed his arms. “I have clothes.” he replied petulantly, “And we’re going home tonight so there’s no point.”

“Better than sitting here all day.”

Their breakfast arrived before he could reply. Todoroki brought in a tray laden with all kinds of small dishes and placed it on the table between them.

“I’ll just think of it as a well-deserved day off,” Bakugo said before chomping on a carrot.

“Knowing you, you probably don’t spend your day offs cooped up indoors though.”

He was right of course, but Bakugo wasn’t willing to say so just yet, instead he huffed, “You don’t know me.” It was a fairly innocent, offhand comment, but the moment the words left his lips, he realized his misstep. His second mistake was glancing towards the man sitting across from him. His heart sank when he saw the years old hurt clouding his eyes.

Todoroki looked down, his soft hair falling and shielding his too honest eyes from view. With a heavy voice he spoke, “Guess I don’t.”

The vegetable he was chewing on turned acidic in his mouth. Bakugo had always felt like he was on thin ice. As all the other pro heroes, he lived a fast, precarious life. Most days he woke up not knowing if he was going to survive until the night. He experienced his fair share of unspeakable horrors without having the luxury to unpack any of it. To protect his psych, he followed his own set of rules. One of them was never to dwell on the past, good, bad or whatever in-between.

Not because he did not want to, he just couldn’t afford it.

In that moment, he felt the weight of his heart, heavy and despondent. His fist tightened, reminding himself that no matter how much he wanted nothing more than to wipe away that look, he couldn’t. Shouldn’t.

“On second thought,” he started softly, “I’ll take Camie’s offer. These clothes are stifling.”

—

Intimacy.

A foreign concept he never expected to experience, certainly not through the pain.

Despite the obvious strain, Shouto remained perfectly still, kissing his temple, high on his cheek, over his eyelid, his nose and finally settling on his lips, chaste and sweet. With trembling fingers, he combed through blond strands, “You feel so, so good, Katsuki.” He sighed and leaned his forehead against Bakugo’s. “My heart feels so full.”

Bakugo opened bleary eyes to watch, entranced, tears welling up in stormy glaciers and blue flames. Instinctively, he raised his own hand to cup Shouto’s warm, rosy cheek, the discomfort fading by the seconds, traded with wholeness, both physical and emotional, like a sweeping current of air between two rainclouds, electric and enormous and bright.

Shouto’s feelings echoed his.

—

“You’re going out in that?” Camie pointed rudely with one raised eyebrow.

“And you’re still clad in leather. You don’t see me pointing.”

She twirled a strawberry blond strand around her finger and pouted, “It’s a fashion statement, babe.”

With a hand on one hip, he returned, “You look like you walked out of a BDSM club, babe.”

Todoroki stood between the two of them, looking relatively worried, like he’s about to step in to try to pacify the situation.

The two blondes stared at each other for seconds before breaking into smiles, “I totally missed spending time with you two hotties!” she walked between them and entwined her arms with theirs, “The hot men pool has been so dreadfully lacking lately, especially between pro-heroes,” She started walking out of the hotel while dragging them along, “like, don’t get me wrong, I am sure having control over snakes is a useful quirk but I’m totally NOT gonna date a guy with a dry scaly skin and split tongue!”

“And you think your luck is gonna improve now?” Bakugo sarcastically asked.

She shrugged, “Oh, I’m well aware of the look but don’t touch policy you two have going on.”

Todoroki raised an eyebrow in question.

Camie smiled at him and continued instead, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t easy on the eye.”

They got into a taxi and Camie asked the driver to take them to the shopping streets explaining to her companions that the island did not in fact have a mall, rather, it had eleven streets for all kinds of shops, convenient stores, and street food. Bakugo didn’t know how she expected to find anything relatively decent there.

To his surprise though, there were many things that caught his attention and the prices were low enough that he might’ve gone overboard. He had to buy a backpack and stuff all his new items in. Camie tutted at him, “You need to change out of these like, right now.”

He glared at her. Ineffectively. She ushered him into a changing room.

Now, he was previously opposed to changing out of his suit out of sheer stubbornness but man did his new jogging shorts and long-sleeved cotton shirt feel airy and heavenly cool against his skin. Not that he was going to admit that to her anytime soon. He completed the look by putting on his new bright yellow running shoes. There. Perfect.

When he walked out, Todoroki and Camie stopped chatting to look at him, appraising his outfit. Well, Camie was appraising, Todoroki was definitely checking him out.

“Ten out of ten, babe.” Camie gave him two thumbs up.

“How dare you, I’m always a solid ten.” He smirked, slinging his new backpack over one shoulder.

“I can attest to that.” Todoroki said, eyes never leaving his, “You look comfortable like this.”

Bakugo felt warm around the collar to the tips of his ear, “Yeah, whatever.”

“Speaking of snacks,” Camie winked at him suggestively, “Let’s go eat. They say the island’s beef is extraordinary,” she dragged the word out for emphasis, “Because they raise their cattle in some way or another, I don’t know.”

“Count me in.” Todoroki nodded, “You have potential to be a saleswoman, Camie.” It might’ve been said sarcastically, but his face was fairly serious.

Camie just smiled cheerfully and locked her arm with his and started walking, “You know it, hot stuff.”

Belatedly, Bakugo realized that he was frowning at their backs. He schooled his face, stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed them.

—

Devotion.

He never felt so vulnerable and helpless as he did in that moment. Red eclipsed his vision. Screams rang loud in his ears, yet he was deaf to the world.

Sprawled on the ground, forcefully pushed out of harm’s way.

Please let it be another horrible nightmare.

A sickening thud on the ground finally spurred him to move. He clutched the other’s unmoving, bloodied blue suit. “Hey, hey, pull yourself together! Shouto!” His grip trembled in anger and fear. Every breath he took was shorter and harder, “You can’t do this, you piece of shit!” He raised his head only to shout, “Where the fuck are the medics?!”

He cradled Shouto’s head on his thigh despite the shouts of other heroes warning him to move out of the way. 

The villain could kill them all for all he cared, he was not moving without him. The suicidal fool.

A medic hero was with him within minutes, quickly assessing Shouto’s injuries and working on him silently.

Bakugo regarded the medic, chest painfully tight, he felt nauseous and lightheaded. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask.

“He’ll survive.”

A choked off noise. Air finally making it to his lungs. Relief washed over him like cold water making his fingers tremble where they were gripping the blue fabric. He looked up to the sky, thankful beyond words. The clouds started looking shapeless and wobbly as his vision blurred.

He didn’t stop the tears.

—

They ended up going to the Dozaki church first. It was a small gothic looking church built more than two centuries ago, Camie, the designated tour guide, explained to them. She made them take photos next to the statues in the church’s backyard to commemorate the surprise vacation they were currently taking.

And if Bakugo secretly asked her to send him the pictures, that was really no one’s business.

To her credit, the restaurant Camie recommended was really decent. The marbled yakiniku was so tender and full of flavors. He dipped his bitesize into the spicy tare sauce and chewed slowly. Mouthwatering.

Todoroki was scrolling on his phone while eating. Camie quickly berated him for it. He put it down and clarified, “I was just looking something up. I heard that there is a volcano here.”

“The Onidake?” Bakugo asked. He might not know much about the historical sites, but volcanoes were different. “The demon mountain. Yeah, you could clearly see it from our hotel room window.”

Our.

Bakugo reached for a mushroom and continued, not allowing himself to dwell on the fluttery feeling in his stomach, “It’s pretty much inactive though. Last time it erupted was 20,000 years ago. Now, it’s only good for hiking.”

“Is that how you know about it?” Todoroki asked. When Bakugo raised a brow in question, he elaborated, “Because it’s a good hiking spot?”

“Maybe.”

“Bakugo likes hiking?”

“He does.” Todoroki replied with a small smile but something ghosted over his eyes and he rephrased his words, “He used to, at least. Bakugo used to go hiking a lot with Kirishima,” he looked at Camie, “Red Riot?” when she nodded in recognition, he continued, “It was their thing. Whenever we had a break from school, they’d pack some essentials and go hiking. Musutafu has some impressive mountains and lakes so the view from up there must’ve been stunning.” His voice rasped near the end. Todoroki excused himself and took a sip from his water. Without looking at him, he directed his question, “Do you two still meet up to go hiking?”

Bakugo was under no obligation to answer that question or any other question. It’s been years since they’ve parted ways. He had no business trying to catch up with him now. But it was the way the question was saturated with emotions and nostalgic fondness that made Bakugo answer truthfully, “We’ve hiked a few times since graduation. Been a while since the last time though.”

“So you’ve never went hiking?” She bumped her shoulder with Todoroki’s.

He colored, “Only once.”

Bakugo busied himself attacking another piece of beef, ignoring the way his cheeks matched Todoroki’s. He was not going to reminisce about the time they were almost charged with indecent exposure.

Camie tilted her head, smiling like she knew something, “Fun times, huh?”

Todoroki drank more water.

“I would literally kill for something sweet right now.” She tapped her finger to her chin, “I’m thinking ice cream. My treat.”

—

Ambition.

His own blood felt strange in his veins. Cold. Numbing his limbs, his lungs, and dropping heavily in his stomach. No matter how hard he tried to rid himself of the bloodies images, the agonized scream, the horrible sound of bones, they remained so vivid still.

Crippling him.

The path he had so meticulously drawn for himself did not allow weaknesses, detours, second-guessing, or illusions. He had a plan and in that moment, those eyes that regarded him with so much adoration and untainted reverence where chaining him down. Locking him in place.

—

“Does grocery store ice cream even count as a treat?” He taunted Camie as the three of them sat on a bench with their grocery bags on the ground, eating their frozen treats.

“For one, I don’t remember you treating us to anything,” she teased him right back, “And two, you can’t find these flavors back home.”

“I can.”

“You chose piña colada, babe. Not my problem you chose something basic.”

“Fuck off,” he bit into his popsicle viciously, “Like your matcha concoction is any better.”

“Matcha and red beans.”

“As if that makes it any better.”

“Mine is good.” Todoroki cut in, the peacemaker.

“Todoroki, you have no right to speak right now.” He pointed at the atrocity in his conveniently cooler hand, “Who the fuck orders soba flavored soft serve? I can practically hear your taste buds crying.”

“Soba-cha.” He corrected, “It is really good, you know.” He licked around the tip, “Not too sweet, nutty aftertaste,” mismatched eyes met his, expecting him to be staring.

Bakugo quickly averted his eyes, “If you say so, soba freak.” he bit into his popsicle again, hoping the ice would cool his face somehow.

“Interesting.” Camie sitting in the middle, bit her smile and crossed her legs. When Bakugo glared at her, she tried again, “So, it’s barely two. What do you two want to do next?”

“You two?” He asked, “Why, you going somewhere?”

“Mhm,” She nodded as she inspected her nails. “I saw a nail salon earlier, I’m going there.” She blinked and added, “You can come too of course.”

Bakugo huffed, “Mine are perfectly maintained, I’ll have you know.”

“Mine are filed to the skin.” Todoroki said, “I don’t think the nail technician has anything to work with here.”

They ate their ice cream in silence for a few seconds, “Mm, maybe you’d like to visit the lighthouse?”

Todoroki was immediately interested, turning towards her, “There’s a lighthouse here?”

She was bemused by the sparkle in his eyes, “Yup. The Osezaki lighthouse. It’s built on a cliff though. Might even double as a hike.”

Bakugo was invested in the unusual interest in the site too. “Never seen a lighthouse before, icyhot?”

“Have you?”

He scowled.

“Exactly.” A small smile tugged on his lips, “I think I’ll visit it.” He said resolutely.

“You’ll tag along, won’t you Bakugo?” Camie asked, eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Why should I?” He did not like her tune, the meaning behind her innocently coined question was unmistakable.

She pursed her lips, “Because you’ve got nothing better to do, silly.”

“I recently heard a story,” Todoroki spoke with a serious voice, looking far off into the sea, “About three men disappearing without a trace from a lighthouse.”

The two confused blondes stared at the suddenly solemn looking pro hero.

“Two of them were experienced lighthouse keepers and the third was the new recruit whom they were supposed to train for the job,” Todoroki turned towards them and conspiratorially continued, “You see, this lighthouse was on an islet, standing alone between rocks and waves. No one lived there except for the three keepers.”

“One stormy night, a ship kept signaling the lighthouse, desperately needing the light to avoid the rocky shores and the turbulent waves, but no light came from the little island that night. They sent telegraphs, signals, everything. Nothing. Just deathly silence except for the brewing storm and howling wind.”

Camie leaned back against Bakugo, spooked. Absorbed in the story, Bakugo leaned his chin over her shoulder.

“The captain of the ship deemed it too risky to move forward, so he took the long detour away from the rocky isles. It would take him two days instead of his planned sixteen hours. That’s a delay he had to report. After the storm had passed, the lighthouse was searched up and down but it had no trace of any of the keepers. No murders either or dead bodies. It looked like the three keepers just up and disappeared into thin air.”

“Maybe they fell into the sea.” He wondered out loud.

“The shores were a safe distance away from the lighthouse, and think about it, one could accidentally fall into the sea, but all three?”

“I don’t like where this is going.” Camie mumbled.

Todoroki nodded, “And then they found the lighthouse log and it was filled with the weirdest things. They wrote about praying and fear, which, obviously you can write in a journal, not a lighthouse log. A lot of people just assumed they’d gone mad, but again, all three?” He looked back into the sea, “A century later and nobody really knows what had happened to them.”

“Wait, that’s a real story?”

“Oh, absolutely. The lighthouse is in the Flannan Isles in Scotland.”

The three of them were quiet for a minute, finishing their frozen treats in deep contemplation.

“So if you don’t want to go to the lighthouse, I completely understand.”

Fucker. “What do you ‘completely understand’, asshole?”

Todoroki shrugged and started using his phone map to locate the lighthouse.

He was not going to be goaded like a child into going anywhere. Bakugo viciously chomped the last piece of his melting piña colada and was about to throw the wooden stick into the trash closest to him when something written on the wood caught his attention.

Oh, so it was one of those ice creams, the ones that offered free treats or maybe words of wisdom. He hadn’t seen these around in years. Looks like the island lived in a time capsule. Curiously, he read the words he got and his smile froze on his face.

(Everyday is a second chance)

—

Distance.

They were aware that exams, training, graduation, all of that were merely excuses. Every plan was rebuffed. Every time was not a good time. Every suggestion was turned down.

It took unyielding tenacity to do too.

Saying ‘no’ proved to be harder and harder each time. Bakugo felt his resolve wane every time he saw him approach his way.

But he did it without fail each time anyway.

He felt pieces of his heart chip away like old dried paint every time he watched the tense shoulders deflate in resignation, the light dimming in too beautiful eyes.

He looked away.

—

It’s a good thing that they had a protein filled lunch because the trek up and down those deceptively smooth looking hills was definitely working their muscles hard. They finally started to see the lone building in the distance after half an hour of walking.

“Bakugo.”

“What?”

“How well can you interpret the weather? And don’t check the weather app.” With his head, Todoroki pointed at small grey clouds in the distance.

“I don’t need the app,” He indignantly declared. “It’s obviously going to rain.”

Todoroki hummed, “Did you take the wind into account?”

“Meaning?”

“It’s most likely a storm.”

Bakugo looked up again at the now ominous looking clouds and the wind that had been steadily gaining speed.

Todoroki conspicuously said, “Just like the one the lighthouse keepers had.”

“Fuck off.” He glared at his back as he climbed another rock.

When they finally reached the white lighthouse, Todoroki commented as he looked up the height of the building, “I always thought lighthouses were small towers, and this one looked so small from the distance too but it’s huge from up close.”

Bakugo walked to the edge of the cliff and peeked down the rocky slope that met the crashing waves. His eyes followed the horizon where blue met blue. It was like standing at the end of the world. It was oddly serene.

When he turned around, he found Todoroki leaning against the metal fence that surrounded the lighthouse, “My mother’s favorite book was about a man who lived in a lighthouse. I remember she had a small cabinet filled with books she had collected during her teen years. I don’t think she ever had the chance to buy new ones after marrying my father, but who knows.”

He drank from his water bottle and waited for him to continue, watching as the wind picked pace and ruffled the soft strands of bicolored hair every which way.

“The keeper in this story,” he smiled at Bakugo, “thankfully did not mysteriously disappear. He was a war veteran who wanted nothing but to be alone, so the job suited him best. But one day, the daughter of the mayor fell in love with him and in her own way, she courted him. They got married and moved into the lighthouse isle.” He walked towards Bakugo, “They wanted kids of course, but they couldn’t. The wife was devastated. But one day,” he looked at the distant shores, “they found a boat. It had a dead body and a baby inside. What do you think they should’ve done?”

Bakugo shrugged, putting his bottle back in his backpack, “I don’t know, report it maybe?”

“Yes exactly, but they didn’t,” he sounded frustrated, “the wife begged him to bury the body—clearly it was the father’s— and keep the baby. And because he loved her so much, he did. The child grew up to be four or five knowing no parents but the two of them. Until one day, the keeper went to land and found a lady who’d been waiting for her husband and daughter for years and who looked so much like their little girl. He knew of course that their little secret cannot be hidden any longer. He confessed to the lady and she took her child back. Struck with grief and so much anger, the wife reported to the police that her husband had killed the father and taken the infant to raise as his own.”

“That’s brutal. Did she even love the guy?”

“Love isn’t linear. We know that,” he gently replied.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, “But you don’t sentence someone you love to death.”

“Sometimes people do. Maybe not physically.”

Bakugo gritted his teeth and kicked a pebble off the cliff.

“But she didn’t. He was definitely going to get executed despite everyone knowing that he could not have possibly done it. They begged him to tell the truth but he never did, that’s how much he loved her still.” Todoroki’s voice sounded melancholic and distant, “But she came forward with the truth and sided with him at the last minute. Her husband walked free and they went back to the isle.”

“I can’t decide if your mom was a hopeless romantic or a cynical realist.”

“Maybe she started as one and ended up the other.”

“That’s life for you.”

“She didn’t have a choice.”

Bakugo didn’t miss the insinuation. He glanced at his old classmate and found him staring back at him.

The wind whistled loudly in his ears. His heartbeat thudded in his ribcage along with it.

Todoroki turned to face him, “You want to know why I wanted to come here?”

When Bakugo didn’t answer, Todoroki stepped in front of him and continued, “I thought maybe if I’ve seen it, I would understand.”

He rolled his shoulders, feigning nonchalance, resisting the urge to step back, “Understand what?”

Todoroki looked at him pointedly, “You.”

“Wrong place to start.”

“Not at all,” he spoke softly and looked at the centuries old building, “Can you imagine how many lives this lighthouse has saved? How many ships filled with cargo, travelers, crew have relied on this one single source of light? Day and night, watching over people. Complete strangers.” He looked over the hills, “It stands tall and strong, year after year.”, his eyes found Bakugo’s again, “What a benevolent, lonesome existence.”

“It’s doing its job, isn’t it?” he countered heatedly.

“It is.” He whispered, “For now.”

His chest tightened and he looked away, “For now is good enough.” From his peripheral, he caught Todoroki’s eyes on him, seemingly unconvinced. Two fingers gently touched his chin and brought his face forward again.

“Is it?” Todoroki asked, voice laden with grief, almost pleading him to deny it, to say that it wasn’t good enough nor would it ever be. It brought a pang to his heart. It felt like he finally looked at Todoroki, really saw him, his chin, his lips, his jaw, his eyelashes, his eyes. His resolve was crumpling by the second, “Is it, Katsuki?”

Suddenly he was in his dark dorm room again, caged between the door and Todoroki’s warmth as he rocked him side to side. An embrace so tender, it had him melting. It’s then that the words were said for the first time. Three softly whispered words. It was unclear who spoke them but it didn’t really matter because they both felt it. His tear was kissed away when he didn’t even know it rolled down his cheek, and he had called for him. Bakugo inhaled sharply, “Don’t.”

The fingers on his chin moved to cup his cheek, thumb feather light stroking his heated skin. Bakugo meant to protest, to move out of danger’s way, to do anything but stand and stare at the other’s too familiar eyes.

When Todoroki started leaning forward, Bakugo had already tipped his head to meet him.

Before their lips could have the chance to connect, crackling thunder made them both flinch hard, startling them awake from their dreamlike moment. They stepped away from each other.

It didn’t rain. It poured.

—

Heartbreak.

Bakugo had thought this through and through and played every possible scenario in his head weeks, even months before giving voice to the most pitiful excuse of a breakup.

He’d expected pleading, objections, maybe even rage.

What he failed to expect was to see a child.

A child who was denied love in the most unforgiving way. Again.

For the life of him, he couldn’t look away even when he desperately wanted to look at anything else but those unguarded, crestfallen eyes.

Shouto did not say a word. He nodded and turned.

—

What started as them running back to the hotel, ended with a competitive race with a generous use of their quirks. It was a flashy show of ice and sparks over the uphill trek to back to town that onlookers would’ve enjoyed had it not been raining cats and dogs. A cardboard flew in front of Bakugo when the hotel was in sight rendering Todoroki the winner by a few seconds margin.

Bakugo threw his drenched backpack on the ground under the porte cochère of their hotel, finally shielded under a roof. They were soaked to the bone. The clouds rumbled and crackled ominously and the trees started swaying violently. He wiped his face with his sleeve. Counterproductive considering they were both wet, “Fuck,” he panted, “I would’ve won if I wasn’t carrying this shit!”

Todoroki was still trying to get his breathing under control too, “That’s a terrible excuse and you know it. Besides, I have bags too.” he pointed at his grocery and shopping bags from earlier.

Before he could reply, a trash can rolled and bumped into a car, setting off its alarm. They both stared at it wordlessly, “This is not looking good.” The rainstorm did not appear to be letting up any time soon, rather, it was getting heavier by the minute, and by the time they'd reached their destination, the streets were fully cleared out of citizens. He did not want to expect the worst but it was glaring at him head-on.

Steam and vapor misted in the air next to him and he turned to see the other using his quirk to dry himself, “That’s convenient.”

“Don’t glower like that,” Bakugo huffed, “I’ll do yours too.” Todoroki sad as he patted one last time his now dry clothes.

“The hell you will.” He bit back immediately.

Todoroki lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, “You’d rather walk inside like a bag of soggy cereal then?”

“I happen to like it.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his shoe conveniently made a squelching sound when he put his weight on it.

Todoroki looked like he was fighting back a smile as he approached him “No, you don’t,” he didn’t step away only because he never backs away from anything. Instead, Bakugo scowl intensified warningly.

Unfazed, Todoroki placed his left hand on his shoulder. Heat spread through that side quickly. Too quickly. Bakugo almost flinched away because it was too hot, slightly bordering on painful. He watched the steam evaporate from his clothes and instantly felt lighter. It was really fucking convenient, he’d give him that.

What he was against however was the thorough dry cleaning job that followed. Todoroki slid his hand over his sleeve and over his chest and abdomen, his other arm. Bakugo was too mortified to speak, or perhaps he wasn’t, if he was honest. His thinking processors had just momentarily short-circuited. Bakugo found himself following the movement of the hand over his body, bigger somehow than he remembered it, rougher too, but nails trimmed to the skin as always. He zeroed in on platinum ring on his index finger, decorative most likely, but that didn’t stop the twang of something unpleasant from lurking inside him, something akin to possessiveness.

A final pat to his back, “There, all done.” Todoroki declared, low voice closer than anticipated.

He flinched back, feeling too warm around his neck. Though that could be attributed to the hot pat down he just had. And that effectively made the heat rise to his cheeks too. He pushed him away, picked his stuff up and stomped inside the dry, cool air of the entryway.

—

His stomach made a loud sound as soon as he stepped out of the shower, wearing fresh new clothes. It was late in the afternoon and whatever they had in the restaurant was fully digested a while ago. Though he didn’t have the appetite for it, his stomach had a mind of its own. As soon as the other occupant went inside the bathroom, he’d called the room service for an early dinner. Before hanging up, he asked the lady, “You’re a local, you know how long the rainstorm will last?”

Cheerily she replied, “Who knows?” but upon hearing his booming ‘what?!’, she rephrased her answer, “Downpours aren’t unusual in our island, sir. Could take hours, or days. I wouldn’t know.” There was unmistakable irritation in her voice. “Anything else, sir?”

He muttered his thanks and put the phone down. Even a bad joke would’ve run its course by now. He rubbed his face in exasperation and stared at the rivulets of rainwater sliding heavily down the window. As much as he hated to admit it, he was anxious. He was relieved that today was the last time being in the same vicinity as Todoroki, only because he didn’t feel like himself around him. He’d grown up from the last time they’ve been together. Bakugo prized himself on maturing, acknowledging his wrongdoings and making up for his past foolishness. He worked with people he hated with decent professionalism and minimal antagonism. He was a well-rounded hero by all accounts. His uphill ascent on the billboard wasn’t easy. He worked his ass off to get there and he’s fucking proud of it too.

Whenever Todoroki’s hero name was on the news, his senses would ignite, alert and competitive. A part of him was petty enough that he didn’t want the media to talk about him at all, a larger, more sincere part of him was always fucking smug at Shouto’s accomplishments, feeling an ingrained belongingness to the hero. It was a trainwreck of emotions every time. A battle between wanting to push himself even harder and his urge to see the hero and congratulate him. He always picked the former.

Over the years he’d come to stabilize his conflicting emotions. Silence them.

Or so he thought. All of that hard work to find equilibrium faded into the background when he met him again. Just being in his presence was enough to make him feel vulnerable. Weak.

It was fucking tragic.

His phone on the bed started ringing and he was fucking grateful for the distraction. Camie’s voice greeted him when he picked it up, “Hey you, what’re you doing tonight?”

Until that second, he had some hope that they will be out of this island by tonight still, but after her question that hope evaporated, “The police contacted you?”

“For sure,” she drawled, “I called actually, just to confirm. They said there’s like, no way a plane can fly in this weather.”

He sighed in defeat.

“Extended vacation, baby! I’m not complaining at all.”

“Whatever. And what do you mean what am I doing tonight? It’s not like there’s anything to do besides sitting like a matryoshka on a shelf.”

“And here I was, happy that at least one of us is getting some action. Guess not, huh?”

He almost dropped his phone, “That will never, ever happen, you complete airhead!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she said with nonchalance, “Well, if you’re not going to take advantage of that, I might as well call dips.”

His scowl deepened. If he could only choke someone through the phone, “Jump off a cliff.”

The grin was so painfully evident in her voice when she spoke, “Relax, babe. I rather like my limbs attached to my body. And if you don’t have anything better than to threaten my wellbeing with imminent death, may I suggest you two come to my room?”

He pulled his phone away from his ear to stare at it with disbelief.

When he didn’t reply quickly, she giggled, “I’m not suggesting a ménage à trois, Bakugo. No matter how tempting it is.” She seemed to mull it over, “On second thought, keep that on the table.”

“Stop being a stereotypical blond bimbo, Camie!”

Her full on laughter made him groan, dangerously verging on throwing his phone against the wall.

“Okay, okay. Listen,” she got herself to calm down (relatively), “I’ve invited other heroes over too. We’ll have booze and stuff. To pass time. Fun things, you know?”

He didn’t like how she phrased it. Like he didn’t know what fun was. “And why would I waste my time—“

“Not that broken record again.” She groaned, “Hate to break it to you but you’ll be wasting your time anyway.”

A knock on the door. “Listen, my food is here. Don’t want you ruining what remained of my appetite.” He tapped the end button and threw it on the bed again.

As soon as the food was on the coffee table, Todoroki walked out of the shower, still drying his hair with a towel. His face split on an easy smile when he saw the tray. “Perfect timing.”

Bakugo didn’t like how his eyes were immediately drawn to his lips. He teared his gaze away and mumbled, “And who said I ordered anything for you?” Todoroki hummed contemplatively, went back into the bathroom and emerged without his towel. The idiot, his hair was still dripping wet. Not that Bakugo gave a fuck.

“You mean I should just watch you eat then?” He asked as his eyes roamed the colorful dishes then back at Bakugo. He nodded, “I can do that too.”

“God, just—“ Bakugo groaned and flopped on his chair like a petulant child, “just eat your goddamn food you insufferable dickface.”

To his chagrin, Todoroki snorted, “Boy, have I missed these.”

“Yeah, you’ll miss it less when I shove the food down your throat.”

The smile didn’t leave his face when he picked up his chopsticks and started eating.

Belatedly, Bakugo noticed that he was smiling too. He quickly wiped it off.

When they were done, Todoroki went to the window and squinted, “Kinda hard to see with all the rain, but that’s the demon mountain?” he pointed at a shape in the distance.

“It’s the tallest mountain. Kinda hard to miss.” He replied.

He stared at it for a while, “Looks really sinister like this.” He sighed and went to sit cross legged on his bed with his phone in hand, “Seems like Camie is inviting us over.”

Bakugo tilted his head back on the chair. How did he know?

“She sent a text.” Oh. “To her room..” Todoroki’s white brow was raised.

Bakugo bit back a smirk, enjoying the confusion playing on his face. “She did?”

He nodded and in the next second his eyes widened in realization, “Wait, we’re staying the night?”

“You’re too fucking slow, icyhot! Of course we’re not going anywhere. It’s like a waterfall outside.” Honestly, why did Bakugo even expect him to pick up on Camie’s flirtatious text.

Todoroki stared at the window like it’s somehow to blame that he's being mocked. Returning his attention to his phone, he asked, “You’ll go?”

“Will you?”

He shrugged, “Might as well.”

Saying that he’d go to Camie’s after Todoroki had just said he would, would surely leave a sour taste on his tongue, so he clarified, “She called me and I told her I’ll be there.” That’s right, he was not a follower. Bakugo was perfectly capable of enjoying a few drinks with friends and loosen up every once in a while. He’s not a loser who’d prefer to sit in his hotel room doing jackshit. And he wasn’t going just because he didn’t want to feel left out and certainly not because he didn’t savor the idea of his current roommate hanging out with Camie while booze was available.

—

“So how come you’re lounging in this big ass room while the two of us are cramped in a room half of its size? Did you pat your eyelashes at the manager or something?” The room they walked in was clearly more spacious and more luxurious with its pristine furniture and extra appliances and accommodations. It even had a sofa and two armchairs with a marble coffee table. Typical separation of classes!

She dramatically fluttered her eyelashes at him, “And pursed my lips too. Want me to teach you?” She joked, “Oh, and there’s a jacuzzi.”

He huffed, not really annoyed, “Want to trade places?”

With her index on her bottom lip, she eyed Todoroki appraisingly. The latter tilted his head, face as impassive as ever, “In a heartbeat.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, unjustifiably disturbed.

Todoroki only smiled politely, “I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything with me.”

Given the circumstances, Camie probably didn’t expect him to bring anything anyway, “Well, compensate me in other ways, hot stuff.” She winked then swatted her hand, “I’m kidding, go sit down. The others will arrive soon.”

“The others?”

Camie got two six packs of beer from the fridge and placed them on the coffee table. “Mhm, I invited a few other heroes too. You didn’t think you were special, did you boom boom boy?”

He sprawled on the armchair, “Fuck yeah, I’m special.”

A knock on the door made Camie turn towards it. Todoroki sat on the side sofa that’s closer to his own armchair. The gesture, as unintentional as it probably was, made something akin to protectiveness surge within Bakugo, which is pointless, given that they were nowhere near danger. That didn’t stop him from leaning towards the sofa himself too.

The small four people group that walked in also made their comments about the room. One of them exclaimed upon seeing them sitting, practically shouting their hero names in awe. They introduced themselves and started sitting down too, not everyone fit so three of them were sitting on the carpeted floor. Some of them brought snacks that they laid on the table. Within minutes, everyone had a can of beer in hand and stories were being exchanged, loud and overlapping each other.

Bakugo, for the life of him, never understood how he always had a talent for befriending the loudest in any group. Correction, how they actively tried to befriend him. So here he was, listening to the guy closest to him on the floor explaining with a gratuitous amount of hand gestures and sound effects his story of how he saved an elderly from under the rubble.

“Imagine this, no one knew that this nice lady even lived in that decaying building,” he said, emotional and immersed in his own story, “the rescue team was ready to head home to continue working later. They really thought it was empty. But,” his green eyes shined, “Earphone Jack was there,” Bakugo’s interest immediately piqued by the mention of his old classmate, already feeling tendrils of pride blooming in his chest, “She stopped everyone and claimed that she was hearing a faint heartbeat, like someone unconscious was still there. We started to help right off and she guided us to where the poor lady was.” He sipped from his drink to conceal his wobbling voice, eyes misting over. “I visited her many times in the hospital after that. None of her relatives did.”

He stared at him for a long second, old memories of his classmates seeping in. The guy reminded him so much of Kirishima. Izuku too. The idealistic image of a hero was what they embodied from the start. A hero that negates the self and glorifies the others’ wellbeing and safety.

But Jirou? Even when her name never appeared on the top 20 billboard, Bakugo knew that Jirou was doing her hero work perfectly. But hearing stories about her from other heroes put things into a different perspective. She, like many others, wasn’t simply doing a job. She was rescuing people. Saving lives. Embodying what a hero should be.

Bakugo finished his first can and reached for another. The hero, after recovering from his emotional story started another. Bakugo listened because what else was he supposed to do? He took a sip from his drink until a phone rang next to him, he turned to see Todoroki fishing out his phone from his pocket and answering it.

Only then did he notice the woman next to him, practically sitting on his lap. Bakugo could swear there were hearts in her eyes as she gazed at him while he talked. A petite figure, lovely face with freckles and dewy cheeks, soft dark hair framed her face. Bakugo’s drink was suspended midway to his mouth as he watched her pick something that wasn’t even there from Todoroki’s pants, brushing it off and smoothing nonexistent wrinkles, successfully drawing Todoroki’s eyes to her dainty fingers then to her face.

Something ugly slithered from his gut to his throat and seeped into every blood vessel in his body. His grip tightened around the metal can, accidentally indenting it. He forcefully dragged his gaze away from the scene when Todoroki hung up the phone and smiled at her.

He suddenly felt like he was on boat rocking in the middle of a storm. The food he had earlier threatened to reappear.

“So get this, Dynamite. The police gathered—“

None of his words were registering anymore. Bakugo wasn’t seeing him, wasn’t seeing anyone. His vision darkened. He swallowed and took another gulp from his drink to ease the buzz thrumming under his skin.

He had no right.

He had not a single right to be upset, but he was. Oh, he was incensed. Who did that scrawny little bitch think she was? With her cheap lovestruck tactics and feminine innocence charm charade? Anyone with half a brain cell would see right through her act. It’s disgusting.

But he still had no right.

He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, trying to tune himself back to what previously was an interesting story.

“—because of the hostage situation, their hands were literally bound behind their backs, you see? And then—“

Bakugo tried. He really tried to follow the story but half of his attention was spent on trying not to turn around and stab someone dead right then and there. And it worked. For a while.

He was nursing his fourth beer when he heard her giggle at something Todoroki had said. There’s no way what he’d said was that funny. Todoroki’s fucked up sense of dark humor only worked with the people who knew him. It was almost as bad as Bakugo’s. So the fucking bitch really should just choke on her own spit and die already.

Camie leaned over to take a piece of chocolate from the plastic bag in front of him, “Hey babe, you good?”

“I’m good.” He replied tersely.

“Mhm,” she poked between his eyebrows and whispered, “yeah, right. Just don’t murder anyone.”

He smoothed his features and finished his drink. He crushed the can between his hands just to alleviate some of the violent energy that was building up inside him. The alcohol was doing a piss poor job at calming him down apparently. If anything, he was even more volatile and ready to fling someone out of the fancy fucking window.

“And guess who appeared in that moment? Fucking Kenji Tsuragamae himself! The chief of the police force. Out of nowhere! Literally!”

Ahh, who gives a flying fuck you stupid donut!

“Can I see your phone?” She innocently asked in a voice that was now on top of Bakugo’s list of most hated sounds.

“Sure.”

Perplexed, Bakugo looked at Todoroki handing his phone over like it was nothing. Like he didn’t understand the universal gesture.

Taking a sip from his can, discerning mismatched eyes met his.

He knew?

Bakugo saw red.

He got up so quickly he almost knocked his knees against the wooden table. He glared at Todoroki’s now neutral face. Distantly, he heard the others asking what’s wrong and Camie coming his way. He didn’t need this bullshit. He walked out, heedless of their worried questions.

It felt like there was no oxygen in the air, his vision blurred and he rubbed his eyes harshly with his sleeve. God, how badly did he want to get the fuck out of this goddamn building but there he was like a fucking loser crawling back to his hotel room. It was all humiliating and so fucking pointless.

Slamming the door behind, he slumped against it, fighting so hard not to scream his frustration. Why the fuck was he like this? He moved on. He was doing so well for himself. His ranking was among the best of the best.

But so was everyone else.

What the fuck was the point of what he'd sacrificed then? Just to be a number on a fucking chart?

Bakugo only had one dream. He thought he only had one. Now everything is messed up. Had been for years. He felt lightheaded, heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears. It was difficult to breathe.

He almost jumped out of his skin when the door handle behind him began to turn downwards. He moved away from the door as it opened. Why did he even follow him?

Todoroki walked in and closed the door behind him slowly, eyes never leaving Bakugo’s, “Why did you leave?”

Anger boiled to the surface again, “None of your fucking business!”

Todoroki took one step towards him, “Because of me?”

He snarled derisively but didn’t answer, opting to glare harder, daring him to get any closer.

“Why?” Having no regard for his safety, he took another step, “Did it bother you that I might be interested in someone else?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He wasn’t. And if he kept on getting closer, Bakugo might end up committing homicide or something much worse. His fucking heart didn’t seem to be settling down.

Todoroki leaned his head to one side, like he was considering him. Bakugo only realized he was cornered when his back met the wall behind him. Todoroki’s thumb wiped under his eye and he looked at the droplet strangely.

Resentful and humiliated, he tried to push him away. Todoroki kissed him instead.

Everything stilled for a second.

If Todoroki hadn’t shown any sign of anger before, he sure poured it all in a kiss. Bruising and consuming, large hands cupping Bakugo’s face, controlling and dominating. Todoroki made a noise in the back of his throat like a wounded animals. With a hand coaxing Bakugo’s jaw to open, he tilted his head and dived back in, tongue exploring every corner, filthy and desperate.

It was like being underwater for so long and he’d finally come up for air. He slumped against the wall, boneless and so fucking grateful, his arms came up to wrap around his back, bringing him flush against him. And fuck, it was like being whole again. Pieced back together.

How could one person render him so helpless, tap into his weaknesses so effortlessly and leave him exposed and yet, yet leave him fulfilled and so light he could fly.

They kissed for what seemed like a brief infinity where stars aligned and galaxies collided in massive and bright celestial explosions.

Todoroki made to pull away but he couldn’t have that. He couldn’t just give him a sip of water when his throat had been so fucking parched. Bakugo clung to him tighter, digging his nails in possessively and desperately.

Todoroki lowered his hands to rest on Bakugo’s waist and trailed kisses on his jaw to his neck. A soft little silk road. His arms circled his back to hug him tighter, face burying in the crook of his neck. Todoroki was trembling as he breathed him in deeply, “I fucking hate you,” he rasped, sounding both heated and defeated.

He wasn’t faring any better. His eyes misted over again. His fingers trailed up to fist in soft strands, pulling his head to crush their lips together again. He broke it off with an apologetic kittenish lick to his lower lip and nodded, “I know, I know.” His fingers started threading softly in his hair like he’d done so many times eons ago.

Didn’t this render all that heartache and yearning pointless? Why did he let him go in the first place?

Everyday is a second chance.

His eyes flashed with restored conviction. He lightly pushed Todoroki back until he had room to drop to his knees, but barely. He peered up at him from under thick lashes, “I want—” he swallowed when his voice cracked, “I want you.”

Todoroki groaned into his hand, his ears tinted red, “You asshole!”

He couldn’t help it, Bakugo smirked. He still had this much power over him. “You know I’m a thousand times better lay than her.”

Todoroki’s hand dropped next to him. Still sullen, but playing along he replied, “I won’t compare until I try.”

It was joke. That didn’t stop the ugly little thing from resurfacing. He snarled, “I’ll kill her first so you’ll be fucking a dead body. How about that for a comparison?”

Fingers fisted in his hair, tipping his head back. He whispered darkly, “You gave up the right to object, remember?”

And just like that, they were back to square one. Todoroki’s fist loosened and he started to pull away. Panicked, Bakugo reached for his wrist to keep it in place, other hand tightened around his pants, unwilling to let him back out just yet.

Todoroki stared down at him, multitudes of emotions playing on his face. He finally sighed and crouched in front of him, “Is it just because you hate losing?” he softly asked, like he was speaking to a child, hand stroking his hair gently, “Or maybe because you had too much to drink, hm?”

Both, was what he wanted to say. Probably neither.

He inhaled raggedly when he saw the disappointment in mismatched eyes when he failed to answer. Unconsciously, his nails dug into the skin of his wrist.

“Okay,” Todoroki placed a placating kiss on the crown of his head, “I’ll let you have what you want.” Relief washed over him, cool and light like northern wind. He watched him stand up and tower over him, “Want me to fuck your face?”

His heart skipped a beat at the filthy words and his face grew hotter. He was the one getting on his knees in an obvious invitation but the words did sinister things to his blood. He felt himself twitch under his pants.

“Say it.”

Wordlessly. he reached for Todoroki’s other hand and placed it on his head too and slowly parted his lips, tongue lolling out. He felt his body temperature rise dangerously from embarrassment, but that didn’t stop him. He waited.

A thumb pressed down on his tongue and he obediently licked around it. He purred happily when Todoroki cursed under his breath. Impatiently he spoke, “Take it out then.”

With annoyingly shaky fingers, he did a quick work of pulling the zipper down and pulling his dick out of his underwear. Bakugo leaned his head back a little when the half hard length almost slapped his cheek. Was it this big before? No, no it wasn’t. He’d spent enough time with it in his mouth back in high school that he knew he got bigger since then.

Wrapping his mouth around it was a fucking challenge and he struggled with every inch. Hastily, he changed tactics, pulling out and started licking all around it instead. His own saliva pooled in his mouth now mixing with Todoroki’s essence, and he closed his eyes, savoring every second. Soon enough it was wet enough all over that he was able to properly suck his cock now, nowhere taking him all in his mouth yet.

For a few blissed minutes, he was so immersed he forgot what he’d asked for. A tap to his cheek made him open heavy eyelids to gaze up at Todoroki, “Open up for me.” His hands held Bakugo’s head firmly as he thrust in almost all the way in, making Bakugo’s gag around his girth.

Todoroki made no move to let up. With every thrust, he went deeper and harder, taking his own pleasure from Bakugo like he had every right to it. Bakugo was fighting to breathe, cheeks wet with tears, chin smeared with spit and precum.

Hands tightening in his hair, Todoroki slid all the way in his throat and remained there. Bakugo was convulsing so hard around him, eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Want me to cum down your throat?” He sounded out of breath himself. Bakugo’s answer was to pull him closer by the back of his thighs. He fucked into his mouth two last time and stilled as he came, not giving Bakugo any choice but to swallow it all.

When he pulled out his dick from the abused, reddened lips, Todoroki went to his knees in front of Bakugo who was trembling like a leaf, gulping in air after almost passing out. He wrapped one arm around his back and pulled him in, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. Todoroki’s other hand groped the front of his clothed erection without preamble. Bakugo made a sound between a moan and a hiss, he was so hard it was painful.

Soon, the confident strokes started feeling heavenly and he hugged Todoroki back, rutting against his hand shamelessly, unfiltered sounds and incoherent encouragement were spilling from him.

“You did so well, Bakugo.” He mewled and hid his face in Todoroki’s shoulder, pride blossoming in his chest at the praise, “Took all of my cock and cum, didn’t you?” Bakugo was ready to cum, his ear was so fucking sensitive. And the words. Oh God, the words. “Always been my good little boy, Katsuki.”

His whole body seized, twitching with the force of his orgasm.

Todoroki let him descend from his high, rocking him gently in his arms. It felt warm and nostalgic like a whimsical summer dream, faintly reminding him of that day in his dorm room and the shy words they had exchanged. He wished he could stay in that moment forever.

To his dismay, he was gently nudged away only far enough for Todoroki to meet his eyes, “You satisfied now?”

Satisfied? He was so fucking high on the feeling of being embraced and held by him that the question was jarring to his scattered thoughts. Was he asking if Bakugo had appeased his ego? Satiated a fleeting curiosity? Scratched an itch? If that was the intended meaning then he’s as close to being satisfied as the earth was from the stars. He shook his head, “Not by a mile.”

Todoroki closed his eyes like it was painful to listen, “Bakugo—“

He didn’t recognize his own voice when he cut him off, “Please, Shouto.”

Beautiful grey and blue eyes widened in surprise then softened with reserved fondness and longing. He brought his trembling hand that was suspended between them to his side.

“Please.” He pleaded hoarsely.

Todoroki regarded him silently, gauging his sincerity. Bakugo could never blame him for building these walls around himself. It was self reservation. And he aided in causing them to exist. Todoroki sighed and tucked himself back in his pants. He crossed his legs to sit down properly. He finally prompted in a strange, soft voice, “That day..”

Bakugo knew from the tone alone which day he referred to. Immediately, he wanted to burrow into his bed and not recall that day. He scowled to himself, this wasn’t about him and his feelings, it was about Todoroki.

Swallowing thickly, he waited but when no words followed, he realized that Todoroki expected him to open up about it. He never fully allowed himself to dissect his actions, his words the day he decided to break up with Todoroki. He buried the memory so deep in the recesses of his mind that he could hardly even remember it. But among his addled memories, there was one unmovable boulder between a sea of pebbles; Todoroki’s face.

His eyes fell closed and he saw blood on his hands. Blood that wasn’t his. He shuddered and brought his clean hands in front of him just to crush the flooding, vivid images. Bakugo shuddered before speaking, “Never in my entire life have I known fear so keen and overwhelming.. so crippling like the day I almost lost you in my arms.” He brought his knees to his chest and hugged them, needing to feel some form of security. He felt the warm blood seep through his clothes, sluggish, hot. “I knew I was weak even before that, but useless too? I couldn’t do shit to save you. I didn’t even know how. And the worst of it?” His nails dug harshly in his skin, trying to stop himself from trembling, “I felt fucking hollow!” he growled, not caring for the tears that dripped from his chin to his shirt, “In that moment, I was ready—“ he admitted weakly, “ready to follow you.”

Besides his suppressed sobs it was quiet for a while until Todoroki spoke gravelly, “I didn’t die that day, Katsuki,” Bakugo blinked bleary eyes to look at him, “But I think I did the day you left me.” Distractedly, he tugged at Bakugo’s pants and his eyes followed the movement of the fabric, “I think I might’ve known all along that this was your reason, but I never accepted that you and I are over. I—“ He peered up at him with watery eyes, “I waited for a call, a text.” He looked away again, “It’s pathetic, I know. But I believed that what we had was too grand to be over in such a feeble, careless way.”

Todoroki pulled his hand away, his shoulders slumped, “I mean,” he huffed humorlessly, “I still can’t promise you I won’t die and you can’t promise me that either. Shit.” He looked towards the window, eyes shining with unshed tears.

An ache pushed against his heart and without a second thought, Bakugo cupped Todoroki’s face and whispered, “I am so, so sorry, Shouto.” his throat thickened again,

Todoroki’s eyelids fell shut, eyebrows knitted, drinking in the words he probably never thought he would hear.

“The idea of losing you terrified me. It still does. But I want you.” He confessed, leaning down to kiss the tears the trickled over the old scar, “I want to see you every morning. I want to laugh with you. Cry with you. Want to share stupid stories with you..” he kissed his forehead, long and tender, “Won’t you have me back, Shou?”

Wordlessly, Todoroki gathered him up in his lap, letting his legs fall on each side. He hugged him tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

Hope blossomed in his chest. Combing through soft hair, he asked, “Shou?” Even if he already knew the answer, he needed to hear it. Taste the words.

Arms tightened around him and Todoroki nodded. Cleared his throat and tried again, “Yes, yes, always.”

Despite the raging storm outside, sunshine flooded Bakugo’s soul, warm and bright. Happiness streaked through him like millions of comets. He closed his eyes and let himself get drunk on it.

Shouto was wrong.

He was the lighthouse and Katsuki was the one lost at sea.