Work Text:
Just like the way summer slowly shifted into autumn, burning hot days replaced by the browning leaves and a colder breeze, the change between them was subtle as well.
There is less yelling, less tension in the air between them now. Bakugou no longer has aggravation in his voice when he speaks to the freckled boy, and Midoriya in turn seems to relax more around the blond than he ever did. It’s so gradual, miniscule, and it just appears so naturally that no one around them pays it much mind.
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“Are they still over there?” Mina’s voice pipes up. Uraraka glances at the other girl curiously, following her gaze to the tall cement structure, or rather, the area behind it that they can’t see.
“Bakugou and Deku?” The brunette asks, vaguely remembering that they had separated from the rest of the class to train with each other a while ago, away from everyone else’s interference.
“Isn’t it almost time to head back?” Asks Tsuyu, tilting her head.
“I’ll go get them!” Uraraka beams at the others. “Wouldn’t want Iida to give them a hard time all the way back to class.” She giggles, trotting over with a skip in her step.
From the sounds of it, they’ve paused training. Uraraka doesn’t hear any explosions or the breaking of cement. The rest of the class’s noises fall behind her as she makes her way around the pillars of cement.
She picks up on Deku’s voice as she wanders past the wall, smiling brightly. She peers around the corner, about to call out for them, but she halts at the sight.
They’re not fighting at all. All the two boys seem to be doing is just talking. They’re standing close together, Bakugou’s arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at Deku, who seems to be chattering away. Unlike usual, Bakugou’s expression isn’t laced with any sort of malice or irritation, he’s simply… listening. His head nods as Midoriya talks, expressive with his hands, shifting on his feet. Uraraka can’t hear what he’s saying, but it must be important since Bakugou seems to be taking in his every word.
She tilts her head, watching them both curiously. When had they stopped butting heads?
Midoriya’s fingers lock together and he raises both arms over his head, palms facing upwards, in a simple stretch. He tilts his head, and Bakugou seems to shake his own head. He actually steps closer to Midoriya, and Uraraka can’t help but tense up as the blond’s arms uncross, only to watch as he extends his arm to Midoriya.
She blinks, puzzled, as they merely talk. Midoriya’s comparing their arms, from what it seems? Something like that, because the next thing she watches is the freckled boy reach out, his hand falling on Bakugou’s elbow. The blond doesn’t even seem to care, and Uraraka feels more bewilderment than she thought she could. Didn’t Bakugou hate physical contact? Didn’t he hate Deku?
Bakugou’s lips move, and Midoriya tilts his head like a little puppy, his own mouth forming words she can’t make out. In another strange gesture, Bakugou actually appears to smirk, raising his arm and flexing his muscle, his chest puffing proudly. Midoriya laughs, and Bakugou says something else before his hand falls atop fluffy green curls, ruffling them up.
Uraraka’s eyes go wide, and then a crimson gaze meets her own. She jumps, slightly startled as Bakugou’s face falls back into his normal, familiar expression of bored and slightly irritated.
“What do you want, Round Face?” He asks loudly, voice echoing. Midoriya turns to see her as well, and he perks up, sending her a happy wave. She steps out from around the corner, feeling slightly bashful, as though she was just caught spying. Which was kind of what she was doing, but that wasn"t the point.
“I was just coming to fetch you guys!” She chirps with a small laugh. “It’s almost time to head back in for the day, so…” She trails off awkwardly, flicking her gaze between the two.
“Oh! Sorry about that, Uraraka! I guess we lost track of time.” Midoriya smiles at her, looking over at Bakugou. He just mumbles something and Midoriya lets out another laugh. They both begin their trekk back over, and she feels odd as she turns and wanders back to the girls.
Strange, she thinks, as they walk next to each other all the way back to the locker rooms, and then all the way back to the classroom too.
There’s a pounding at the door, Kirishima’s voice loud and clear.
“Kami! Wake up! You’ll be late if you don’t get up now!”
The blond groans painfully, begrudgingly rolling out of bed as his eyes fight to stay closed. He wanders out of his room in a daze, the common room noise buzzing up the stairs as he makes his way to the bathrooms. He yawns, scratches his head, smacks his face a few times to try and wake himself up as he trudged down the halls.
He pushes open the door, vaguely registering that there are others here, talking in low voices. His eyes blink open at the familiar tone and he glances over to the sinks.
Bakugou and Midoriya are there, facing each other in front of one of the sinks. He can’t help but pause in the doorway and just stare at them, feeling odd as he watches what looks to be a very personal scene.
Bakugou’s got a washcloth in his hands, eyes focused as he scrubs Midoriya’s face, having hardly spared him a glance. The sink between them steams, filled with hot water, and in the mirror he can see the drowsiness on the freckled boy’s face. His eyes are shut, face relaxed as he leans against the counter, completely at peace with Bakugou washing his face.
Kaminari can’t really form any words, slowly wandering over to the farthest sink to brush his teeth. He watches Bakugou’s free hand move, fingers brushing a pale jaw as he gets Midoriya to tilt his head so he can rub warm water along the other cheek.
“Wash your face properly, Deku.” He grumbles out, his voice oddly quiet, “Do you wanna leave oils on your skin? You’ll just break out.”
Midoriya hums, soft and serene, and Kaminari feels his eyes just widening to the size of dinner plates as Bakugou washes very delicately over Midoriya’s eyes, leaned in close, each of them in each other’s personal space bubble, but neither seeming to care.
“Don’t use anything harsh, either,” He mumbles out. “You’ll strip your skin and irritate it.” The electric boy is just so, so confused on why Bakugou is suddenly a skin care expert, his brain gears clinking together as he struggles to both wake up and comprehend the extremely unusual scene he’s walked into.
“Mmn, sorry Kacchan,” Midoriya’s light, sleepy voice says, lashes fluttering like he can’t quite bring himself to open his eyes just yet. “I’ll use something soft now instead.”
Bakugou grunts lightly, dunking the cloth in the water. He squeezes it out, fingers rising to the freckled boys’ forehead, tangling through Midoriya’s messy bedhead curls, pushing them up. He washes there, too, and Kaminari’s mouth just hangs open as Midoriya all but melts into the fingers, Bakugou’s fingers, you know, the ones that blow things up . Even stranger is that Bakugou’s hand moves slightly, as though he’s just caressing Midoriya’s head.
He feels so out of place as he turns away, staring at himself in the mirror, expression practically stricken. He bites the inside of his cheek, flicking his gaze over to the pair once more. Midoriya smiles so warmly as Bakugou brings the washcloth away, fingers unwinding from his curls as bright green eyes blink open.
“Thank you Kacchan.” Midoriya murmurs, all sweet and gentle, and on the inside the electric boy is screaming. What the heck is happening?!
“Yeah, sure.” He says, reaching to grab a small container and twisting off the lid. “Now moisturize.” Kaminari blinks, his lips parted in pure bewilderment as Bakugou dips his fingers in the white cream and begins applying it to Midoriya’s face.
“I can do it,” Midoriya says, but his eyes are closing again and he leans into the touch with a pleased look on his face.
“No, idiot,” Bakugou grumbles out, but there isn’t any bite behind his words, “You’ll smear it unevenly.” His fingers brush along Midoriya’s cheeks, nose, forehead, applying the moisturizer with surprising care and elegance.
“Ah, good morning, Kaminari!” He suddenly says in a brighter tone, and Kaminari practically jumps, a nervous grin plastered to his face. Midoriya gives him a smile as the blond in front of him turns to look at him over his shoulder. Bakugou’s face isn’t really gentle anymore, replaced with a look of something grumpy like usual. He just huffs before he moves to drain the water from the sink, capping the little container of moisturizer and cleaning up their little skin care routine.
Midoriya yawns as he and Bakugou move to stroll casually out of the bathroom, Midoriya’s tone already brighter as the door shuts and their voices fade out.
Kaminari brushes his teeth in a daze.
Kirishima’s stomach growls at him in the late evening, and he is all too happy to close his study books for the night. It’s already late, and the day’s earlier training regimen left the class quite exhausted. He’d forgotten to grab anything afterwards because the only thing he craved was his mattress.
He shuffles his papers aside and stands up with a long stretch. He can feel the ache in his muscles as he makes his way down to the common room, dimly lit and quiet. He wonders what there is he could even eat at this hour, wandering toward the kitchen when he notices a figure on the couch.
Midoriya lays there, passed out in a position that cannot be comfortable at all. His head rests in the crook of the arm of the couch, his neck bent at an angle that makes Kirishima wince for him. His leg is hanging off the couch, hips twisted the opposite way while his shoulders lean the other way and his arm looks a little cramped where it’s resting against his chest and-- yeah, no, that can’t be good for him at all.
The weariness is evident even in his sleep, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted and shadows resting under his eyes are the things that make Kirishima hesitant to wake him. Midoriya always pushes himself, no matter what, and maybe he doesn’t look that comfy but he doesn’t seem to mind, otherwise he would have moved, right?
He considers his options as he fumbles through the cupboards, grabbing a cup of instant ramen. He glances over his shoulder at the green haired boy, watching his chest rise and fall slowly. Of course, he should be a good friend and wake him up, send him off to bed where he can be comfortable and actually rest properly, but it’s clear that if he managed to just pass out right there like that, he has to be just completely beat.
So, Kirishima decides that he’ll just wake him up in like 15 minutes when his impromptu dinner is finished. He wants Midoriya to get some sleep, but he’d hate to just leave him out on the couch all night.
The redhead shuffles around the kitchen, adding water and some extra seasoning to his noodles before he shoves it in the microwave. He sets the timer for five minutes, the machine’s beeps seemingly far too loud in the quiet of the common room. It drones as he leans on the counter, playing on his phone.
Above, a door shuts, footsteps shuffling out into the hall.
Kirishima doesn’t really think about it until the paces make their way to the stairs, thumping as they descend. He glances over, perking up when he sees a familiar head of spiky blond hair.
“Bakugou, hey!” He says, and maybe he could have been a little quieter.
Red eyes cast him a sidelong glance, flicking over him and the humming microwave. He grunts a greeting, and that’s when Kirishima notices the blanket he’s got folded under his arm.
Confused, he’s about to speak up again, but Bakugou’s already striding over towards the couches. He swivels to look, confusion slipping across his face as he watches the boy make his way to Midoriya’s sleeping form. He assumes Bakugou’s just going to wake him up and send him to bed, though, if that’s the case, then what’s the blanket for?
He watches as Bakugou stops in front of the freckled boy, looking down at him for a moment. It’s quiet, save for the microwave, and then Bakugou leans over him.
“Hey,” He utters in a completely low and shockingly gentle tone. Midoriya doesn’t move, so Bakugou exhales. “Deku, hey.” He says, barely louder than before. Thick fingers move, and for a brief second Kirishima thinks Bakugou will just explode his face to wake him up, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
He rests his fingers on Midoriya’s head, ruffling his hair lightly. His little button nose scrunches as he makes an adorably soft sound in the back of his throat, shifting around with a grimace. His eyes don’t open, but Bakugou crouches down and starts speaking in a softer tone.
“Can you sit up?” He asks gently, and Midoriya whines a little, squirming. Kirishima watches, both amazed and completely dumbfounded as Bakugou’s arm slips around his back, helping him sit up carefully. Midoriya’s head lolls forward and in a quick movement, Bakugou sits down where Midoriya had just been resting. There’s wrinkle lines on one of his freckled cheeks from where he’d pushed his face into the couch, indicating that he’d just been out like a light.
“Lay back down,” Bakugou murmurs, eyes focused on Midoriya as he helps the other boy shuffle around to get comfortable. “Just relax.” Kirishima is almost worried at this point, watching Bakugou just… take care of Midoriya. Casually. Calmly. It’s just so weird.
Midoriya makes huffy little noises as he lays back down on Bakugou’s thighs, curling up slightly as he basically nuzzles Bakugou’s stomach. The blond lays the black, thick blanket over Midoriya, who latches onto it with a deep, satisfied sigh. They both settle down and Bakugou’s hand drops to Midoriya’s curls, brushing through them slowly as he rests a cheek on his fist.
Red eyes stare down at Midoriya’s form, and even as he seems exhausted himself, lips pressed into a thin line with each blink becoming slower than the last, he merely rests there, allowing Midoriya to pretty much use him as a pillow --which, didn’t he hate that guy as much as he hated physical contact?
Kirishima was so caught up in their shockingly intimate little moment that he’d practically forgotten about his dinner. He whirls around to look at the microwave, relieved to see nothing has exploded yet. It seems almost done in fact, and the timer reads; 6… 5… 4… 3…
“If that goes off and wakes him up,” Bakugou’s sudden venomous tone sends a shiver down Kirishima’s spine. “You’ll fucking pay.”
Kirishima hadn"t known he could move that fast so quietly until that moment.
“Momo, can we take a break? My brain hurts.” Mina whines to the black haired girl. Hagakure giggles at her, and Momo gives her a gentle smile.
“Of course,” She nods, placing down her pen as the other girls relax from their studies as well. They were all huddled around the common room counter, preparing for an upcoming test with Yaoyorozu making sure they were all caught up with the things they were going to need to know.
Mina happily slumped across her notebooks with a deep, relieved sigh as she let her shoulders relax.
“Not that this isn’t some nice girl time, but I’m exhausted.” She huffs, and Uraraka laughs, patting her arm.
“I get what you mean, Mina!” The brunette chirps. “Maybe a snack would help.” She suggests, and Jirou nods across from her.
“Food does sound really good right now,” Jirou hums, but her gaze is puzzled as she stares down at the current question. “Hey, Momo, I uh, really can’t get this one…” She says sheepishly, sliding closer to the other girl. Momo gives her a warm look.
“Don’t worry! Let’s see what we can do…” She murmurs, leaning in to help her with the problem.
Mina lets the girls do their thing as she hops off her chair and stretches out her limbs. The sky outside is orange from the sunset, and out in the yard are most of the guys, doing more physical training than mental. She smiles brightly as Kirishima and Kaminari forgo their quirks to wrestle in the grass, Satou cheering them on as they mess around.
“Oi, are you even paying attention, damn nerd?”
Dark eyes flick towards the pair sprawled across the floor. Papers and books lay scattered around Bakugou and Midoriya, the loud blond rolling his eyes as Midoriya faceplants into his worksheet.
“This is hard.” His muffled whine rises up, his arms splayed out at his sides as he lays on his stomach. Bakugou sits cross-legged in front of him, hunched over as he taps his pencil on one of the books.
“If you could focus for a damn second instead of fucking around, maybe we’d get somewhere.” He grumbles out, sending Midoriya’s head a fierce look as the freckled boy whines again. Mina covers her giggle with a hand as she observes the two. It was odd that Bakugou had taken up helping Midoriya of all people study instead of going to train with the other guys, but she can’t deny that it’s quite entertaining to watch them.
Such an odd pair; she thinks back to when Kiri and Kami were babbling about Bakugou’s recent, very strange behavior involving Midoriya, but their banter doesn’t seem out of the ordinary to her.
She strolls into the kitchen, happily bumping her hip with Uraraka as she reaches for the fridge handle. Her golden irises sweep over the assortment of foods, but nothing quite catches her eye.
Something catches her ears, however, and she’s leaning back to peer around the door of the fridge at Bakugou’s voice.
“Will you stop screwing with your hair?” He snaps, and Midoriya gives him a bashful smile, fingers slipping to the back of his neck, “Seriously, you’re just making it look even more like a fucking bird’s nest.”
“Ah, sorry Kacchan,” He laughs out, now sitting up like Bakugou, “It’s just getting long and it’s in my eyes right now.” He reaches for the tousled curls hanging rather low on his forehead, twirling his fingers in the forest green strands. Bakugou gives him an unimpressed look before he shuts his eyes and exhales deeply. Mina smirks.
“Oh my god, you have the worst fucking attention span.” He complains, but even so he pushes to his feet, stepping over their mess of papers toward the boy. Mina lets the fridge door go as she watches with interest, raising a brow.
“Eh?” Midoriya follows his approach, tilting his head like a curious puppy. No one else seems to pay any mind to them, but Mina’s all over it as Bakugou shoves a hand in his pockets. She feels her jaw drop as he pulls out a few bobby pins, watching him step up behind Midoriya.
“Head back.” He orders, moving to put the pins between his lips. Midoriya complies, tilting his head back so he looks up at Bakugou, who leans over him nearly bent in half at the waist. Mina bites back a squeal as the blond’s fingers gather up Midoriya’s bangs, pulling in stray strands and anything else obscuring his view.
Midoriya’s eyes slip shut as the blond’s deft fingers hold his hair in place, taking pins from his lips one by one and sticking them into the strands to clip them back with a practiced ease she’s never seen from him before. The freckled boy has a small, very tender smile on his lips, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and Mina rushes to yank her phone out and snap a photo, both stunned and swooning over the rare, affectionate display.
It’s almost natural to see them that way, Mina notes. Bakugou and Midoriya’s relationship was no doubt an odd one, underlined with things that none of the class could ever really decipher between them, but accepted anyway. Bakugou was just Bakugou, and Deku was just Deku. They were so connected, even when they seemed to clash with one another, and yet, they were still just there together. An unexplainable bond forged through a long and opaque history with one another.
“There. Happy now?” Bakugou says, but his tone lacks any bite as he flicks crimson eyes over his handiwork. Mina grins so wide her cheeks ache as Midoriya looks up at him with the brightest eyes, nodding delightedly. Bakugou strolls back over to his spot and they sit across from each other, his face impassive even as the other boy practically radiates sunshine, reaching up to touch at the new updo he was given.
“Oi, don’t fuck around with it, I just put it all up for you!” Bakugou huffs, leaning over to swat at his wrists. Midoriya giggles, and Mina’s eyes watch the hard expression melt away from the blond’s visage, morphing into something reserved for only Midoriya. It’s something akin to a relaxed, comfortably affectionate gaze that gives Mina the inkling that maybe their friendship was something a little more serious. Her own smile is mischievous.
“Sorry Kacchan!” He chirps, all smiles as he lets his hands fall to his lap. “It feels much better now, thank you.” Mina has to admit, Midoriya is unbearably cute with his bangs pinned up, fluffy curls lightly framing his face but none obscuring his view anymore.
Bakugou is quiet for a moment, just watching the other boy, his gaze lingering as Midoriya blushes sweetly, ducking his head almost shyly.
“You’re welcome.” Bakugou murmurs before he’s picking up his pencil again, adjusting the papers in front of him. Mina can’t hold it in anymore, laughing aloud as she skips towards them, drawing their eyes.
“Aww, you two are so cute!” She sings out, clapping her hands together. The girls giggle behind her as Midoriya flushes, turning away, and Bakugou gives her a scowl, his eye twitching.
“Fuck off, Raccoon Eyes!” He shouts at her, his arm rearing back to send his pencil flying at her. She easily dodges, laughing all the while, and Iida must have a sixth sense or something because above them a shout of, “No throwing things in the dorms!” rings out.
Methodically, Todoroki toes off his shoes by the door of the dorms, rolling his shoulders back to ease them of their tension as he pushes his feet into some slippers. There’s a delicious smell in the air, noises coming from the kitchen, and he flicks his two-tone gaze over as something sizzles in a pan.
Bakugou moves smoothly around the kitchen as he cooks, face focused, hardly sparing Todoroki a glance. Todoroki starts a slow walk towards the stairs, intending to head to his room but distracted by whatever he’s cooking, trying to catch a glimpse.
A fluffy head of green curls pops up from behind the counter, Midoriya’s face alight as he hops back over to the blond at the stove.
“Found it!” He beams, passing the clear glass lid towards the taller male, who hums and sets it over the pan.
“Think you can handle chopping some vegetables?” He asks, moving to the fridge to grab carrots, onions and other ingredients. Todoroki lingers, trying to imagine the taste on his tongue as he eyes the seasonings. He hadn"t realized how hungry he was until now.
“Of course Kacchan!” He laughs, pulling out a little cutting board. Bakugou hands him the vegetables, watching him as Midoriya pulls out a small knife, humming happily as he sets to work.
Bakugou grunts before he turns back to the food on the stove. His red gaze flicks towards Todoroki, narrowing slightly as they meet his eyes. Todoroki ignores the hostility in Bakugou’s face, crossing his arms as the heavenly scent of their cooking wafts through the dorms.
“Smells good.” He comments.
“It’s not ready yet, half-n-half.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, lips curling, “Don’t beg like a dog.”
A yelp startles both of them, accompanied by the metallic sound of the knife clattering to the counter. Bakugou whirls around while Midoriya whines out, hunching over his hand.
“Idiot, what did you do?” Bakugou snaps, grabbing the freckled boys’ wrist and bringing his hand up to inspect.
“Ow,” Midoriya says, lips pouting.
“Are you alright, Midoriya?” Todoroki asks, stepping towards the kitchen and peering around Bakugou. Red drips from a small cut across his forefinger, and Todoroki frowns.
“Ah, yeah, I’m alright!” He assures, sending Todoroki a kind smile. “It’s just a tiny cut, nothing to worry about!”
“Stupid Deku.” Bakugou huffs, yanking a paper towel from the roll and pressing it to the wound before the blood can drip onto the floor. “What did I tell you about keeping your damn fingers away from the knife?”
As Midoriya stammers apologies, Bakugou rummages through a drawer beside them, grumbling under his breath. Todoroki shifts on his feet, feeling slightly awkward as he lingers around. Though Bakugou’s voice is full of irritation, his actions say differently; he holds Midoriya’s arm with a gentle touch, no squeezing fingers or rough handling as he pulls out a band-aid.
“You keep band-aids in the kitchen?” Todoroki finds himself asking, tilting his head. Bakugou scoffs.
“Obviously. Since everyone here is so damn incompetent.” He growls, and Midoriya whines.
“Kacchan! It was an accident.” He insists as the blond tears the band-aid open deftly with one of his hands, the other keeping Midoriya’s wrist at his eye-level.
“Can’t take care of yourself for one damn minute, can you?” Bakugou snaps, setting the paper towel aside to bring the band-aid up. “You’d probably lose your fingers if I wasn"t here to fucking babysit you.” His voice goes low, expertly wrapping the wound with a kind of attention Todoroki hasn’t seen from him. He makes sure everything is perfect, so that the band-aid isn’t constricting around Midoriya’s finger but still tight enough that it won’t slip off.
Midoriya’s emerald gaze rests on Bakugou’s face, bright and warm and his lips are tilted up in a tender smile. He lets Bakugou take care of his wound without any protests, absorbed in their closeness as Bakugou makes sure that the band-aid isn’t lopsided, securely covering his little cut. When the blond finishes, their eyes meet, and they just stand there, food cooking behind them as Bakugou just holds on to Midoriya’s hand with both of his own. His fingers brush the back of Midoriya’s hand, thumb curling to run along his knuckles and then Midoriya is smiling even bigger.
He feels like he’s watching a moment he maybe shouldn’t be, his eyes darting away awkwardly as he finally decides to head for the stairs, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Thank you, Kacchan,” Midoriya says softly to him.
“You’re welcome, nerd.” Bakugou’s tone is unusually gentle and Todoroki ascends the steps. “No more knives, go sit down. Now.” The typical commanding voice is back and Todoroki huffs a laugh to himself, shaking his head.
“Wha-- but I was--!” Midoriya tries to protest, but Bakugou cuts him off in an instant.
“No. You’re banned from the kitchen.” He says without room for argument, and their voices fade off as Todoroki retreats to his room. What an odd pair.
Midoriya gives a tired-looking Bakugou a sheepish smile, hands fiddling as he stands in front of the door shyly.
“Couldn’t sleep?” The blond’s voice is rough and low, and Midoriya nods quickly. Bakugou sighs, but he steps aside to let the other boy into his room. Midoriya beams, skipping inside quickly and Bakugou shuts the door.
“Damn nerd.” He grumbles, but then leans his weight against Midoriya’s back, slumping against him as his arms wind around the freckled boys’ waist. “Fuckin’ waking me up this late.”
“Sorry Kacchan.” Midoriya whispers, leaning back into his chest with a soft sigh, a pleased smile rising to his lips as his eyes fall shut. He’d been rolling around in his bed for far too long, mind restless despite his heavy eyes.
"At least it wasn"t in front of everyone else." Bakugou says, and Midoriya can practically feel him roll his eyes. "Damn idiots always annoying the hell out of me."
Midoriya laughs softly, letting his head fall back against the blond"s shoulder.
"Well, you are the one usually drawing attention to us." He points out with a tiny little smile and Bakugou rubs his cheek against Midoriya"s with a grumpy sound in his throat.
They waddle over to Bakugou’s bed together, Midoriya giggling as Bakugou nuzzles against his neck and curly hair, arms tightening briefly. He yawns as the blond shifts away, grabbing his arm as they both fall onto the mattress.
“Such a brat.” Bakugou mumbles, his voice thick as they fit together easily under the covers, legs tangling together as Midoriya eagerly latches onto Bakugou’s form. He draws the covers over them, curling his arm under the other boy’s ribs and pressing a palm against his back, bringing him tight to his chest.
Midoriya only hums, content as he tucks himself under Bakugou’s chin, against his chest as the taller slips an arm around his waist to cuddle him close. Finally at peace, Midoriya feels his drowsiness catching up to him, settling comfortably against Bakugou as the world falls quiet.
“If you weren’t so damn clingy maybe everyone wouldn’t be in our business all the fuckin’ time.” He mumbles against Midoriya’s head, and despite his words he holds tight, strong arms securing Midoriya’s smaller frame against his own.
“It wasn"t me, Kacchan,” Midoriya giggles, rubbing his cheek against Bakugou’s collarbone, “You’re the one always all over me.” He reminds, cheeks turning a rosy red, pressing his face into Bakugou’s neck and smiling all the while.
“Because you’re a damn baby and I have to watch your dumbass.” He rumbles out, and Midoriya hums.
“Yeah, but I’m your baby.” He murmurs sweetly. Bakugou’s lips press against his forehead.
“Damn right.” He says, arms squeezing tight around Midoriya’s frame, and Midoriya is filled with an overwhelming delight, absolutely smitten with the man before him.
It goes silent, only their soft breaths in the room as they lie together, a peaceful calm stretching between them for several moments.
“I love you.” Midoriya whispers out, voice thick with emotion as he clutches Bakugou’s black top. His heart squeezes, warmth pouring over him as Bakugou embraces him tighter than before, molding Midoriya against him. Strong arms keep him in an affectionate embrace, Bakugou"s emotions on clear display, only for him. In this moment, without everyone else"s eyes, he is unrestrained in showing Midoriya what he means. Not that he isn"t afraid to show how he feels, but rather, he doesn"t want everyone witnessing such a private, intimate exchange between them.
“I’ll always take care of you.” Bakugou murmurs back to him, and the weight of those words runs deeper than anyone could ever fathom, the meaning not lost on Midoriya. He can’t help the few hot tears that slip down his cheeks, pushed out by the choking emotions overflowing in his heart. As Bakugou tilts his chin up, kissing him so lovingly in the dead of the night, Midoriya knows that this is love, their love, only meant for one another. Bakugou has never needed to say it to him, Midoriya just knows; he knows because of the way Bakugou just lets his actions speak for him. Midoriya wouldn"t have it any other way.
Bakugou’s love language was never words of affirmation, but as they say, actions speak louder than words; and Bakugou’s actions speak more powerfully than anything else Midoriya has ever known.