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And Nothing Hurts

Summary:

The aching of his body is inconsequential as Shouto slides into the sliver of space that the tiny hospital bed allows, making himself as small as possible to fit. He curls into Katsuki’s side and goes easily when he’s pulled to rest partially on top of him.

And Katsuki finds that despite everything, it doesn’t hurt.

Shouto shakes atop him like he does when he wakes from a nightmare and Katsuki wonders if that’s what these past few weeks had been for him.

A nightmare.

 

Or, bktd going through the motions of bandaging each other's wounds and maybe falling in love along the way

Notes:

this was originally supposed to be a 5 1 thing but it got away from me FAST. bktd has a mind of their own and i am simply a prophet for their love. this fic spans the entirety of the series thus far so spoilers for the manga :) slight depictions of violence but nothing too bad, just want y'all to be warned. am i missing anything? hmm...i hope you enjoy and tysm for reading <3

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Listen.

 

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s not his fault if he always happens to be at the wrong place at the right time to learn about everyone’s dirty laundry that they don’t mind airing out.

 

That being said…

 

“You disgrace me, Shouto.” A guttural voice comes from around the corner and Bakugo stops dead in his tracks. “You disgrace me, you disgrace that boy you fought, you disgrace your family–”

 

He’s not about to walk away from this.

“Stop,” Comes the hoarse reply and it’s the first time Bakugo’s heard Todoroki speak since their fight. He didn’t see him the rest of the tournament and he was silent during the medal ceremony, staring off somewhere between what was there and what was not.

 

He hasn’t known him for that long but he’s never heard him sound so small.

 

“-and you disgrace your Mother.” And Bakugo doesn't need to peer around the corner to see the smug look on Endeavor’s face when he says the last line, he can hear the sneer in his voice.

 

“Don’t bring her into this.” Todoroki’s voice has lowered even further until it’s barely above a whisper as he grinds out the words between a clenched jaw. It’s silent for a moment before Bakugo’s jumping out of his skin as a loud slap echoes through the hallway.

 

Finally allowing himself to look, Bakugo winces as Endeavor’s harsh hand grabs Todoroki’s chin and wrenches his head forward from where it was forced to the side by the force of his slap.

 

“Do not talk back to me, boy.” Endeavor hisses out, flames sputtering hotter as he towers over his son. He says boy like it’s an insult, like there’s something wrong with being a child. Bakugo holds his breath as the silence stretches on until Endeavor pushes Todoroki back with enough force that he trips over his feet, grinning in malicious satisfaction when he falls before storming off, leaving nothing but smoke in his wake.

 

What the fuck.  

 

It takes Bakugo all of five seconds to gather his bearings before he curses and stomps forward, not even grappling with the idea of fucking off and leaving Todoroki on the floor because again, what the fuck.

 

“What the fuck? ” He rasps aloud because that’s apparently the only thing he’s able to think, even as he crouches and meets Todoroki’s wild eyes. “What the fuck was that?!”

Todoroki just stares at him, wide eyed, as Bakugo takes in the aftermath of the slap. Endeavor is one big bastard and the strike of his palm takes up all of Todoroki’s right cheek, turning it a bright, painful red as Todoroki winces away from the brush of Bakugo’s fingers against it.

 

“You fucking-”

 

“Bakugo,” Todoroki breathes out. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I-” Bakugo sputteres, incredulous because one: “What am I doing here?! It’s a public fucking hallway!”

 

“No, I mean.” Todoroki pauses. “What are you doing here?”

 

and two:

 

“...How the hell was I supposed to leave after seeing that?” Bakugo mutters, jerking his hand away when he realizes it was still resting against Todoroki’s cheek.

 

Todoroki doesn’t say anything to that, mouth falling open, as if to speak, before falling closed as he studies Bakugo’s red face. Flushed with embarrassment or anger, he doesn’t know.

 

They study each other for a moment before Bakugo scowls, hands gentle as they grab Todoroki’s arm. “C’mon, the ground’s probably dirty as fuck.” He mutters as he guides Todoroki upward, who allows himself to be led until they’re standing.

 

“You good?” Bakugo squeezes his arm, asking so much more than that. Are you okay? Does he do that a lot? Do you need help? Do you want me to kill him for you–

 

“Yeah.” Todoroki mutters, breaking off his trail of thoughts. Not now, please not now.

 

Bakugo grunts, but doesn’t respond further. Eyeing him suspiciously before dropping his arms, he shoves his fists deep in his pockets and spins on his heel.

 

“-don’t let me see that fucking old man again–” Bakugo curses, already halfway down the hallway. Todoroki can just barely make out his words, but a laugh bubbles in his chest as he catches what he’s saying.

 

“Bakugo.” Todoroki calls after him and Bakugo finds himself pausing before he can stop himself, turning his body back towards him to show he’s listening.

 

“I’m sorry…about not using my fire against you.” He trails off, fingers curling together as he avoids eye contact. The handprint on his face shines harsh under the fluorescent lights and Bakugo swallows down his nausea. “That was unfair to you.”

 

“Whatever.” Bakugo says and it’s the closest to an acceptance he can get out right now.  “And you didn’t disgrace me or whatever your fucking old man said, just…” He trails off as words fail him. “Fight me with all you’ve got next time.”

 

At the mention of a next time, a next battle with Bakugo, Todoroki’s mouth pulls into a frown at the memory of the aftermath of their first one.

 

He admittedly doesn’t remember much, he’d just gotten his head beat into the ground for one thing, and for another, he was upset. Upset at failing, upset at his father, upset at Midoriya and Bakugo and Present Mic’s incessant commentary, needless to say, his mind had been elsewhere. But he does remembers someone yelling to his right, remembers turning his head and making eye contact with Bakugo who was

 

muzzled.

 

And Todoroki remembers feeling very sick.

 

“Bakugo,” Todoroki starts again. “It was wrong what they did to you...at the ceremony. I should have done something.”

 

Bakugo hands tighten further into fists as he shuts his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. He doesn’t wanna think about the muzzle on his face or the cuffs around his wrist, his heart beating out of his chest at the thought, but the idea of Todoroki intervening is so preposterous he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him.

 

“Oh yeah Halfie, what would you have done?” 

 

“I could have stopped them.” And he says it so resolutely that it has Bakugo straightening his spine, a thrill going through his body at the conviction in his voice. He can’t bite back the smirk that comes to his face before he’s turning his body away from Todoroki once more. “I’d have liked to have seen you try but…thanks.”

 

With one more look back at Todoroki who’s standing in the spot Bakugo left him in, cheek inflamed but a content look on his face, Bakugo stalks from the hallway and let’s out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding the second he’s out of the building.

 

His fingernails bite into the palms of his hands and leave bloody crescents by the time he’s gotten home.

 

 

He’d done it.

 

He’d been faster to grab the marble that was holding Bakugo than Dabi was. 

 

The utter relief that flows through him was enough to leave his breath hitching but before he could bring his clasped hand to his chest, a further attempt to protect Bakugo, a scarred hand grabs his arm and pulls them both through the portal.

 

Well, he had done it.

 

He crashes hard onto the cement floor of wherever the portal had spit them out at and he barely has time to scramble to his feet, fists raised and ready for a fight, before a sharp pain erupts in his neck and he becomes aware of the fact that he was surrounded.

 

The last thing he sees before it all goes black are blue eyes that match his one and a sneer that reminds him of his father.

 

-

 

“-alf. Icyhot! Goddammit, wake up already! Todoroki-”

 

It’s a gruff voice that Todoroki blinks his eyes open to. If not for the urging, he thinks he could have slept another few hours. The side of his neck burns and once he comes back to himself, he realizes he can’t move.

 

Yeah, he definitely could have slept a few more hours.

 

“Bakugo?” Todoroki mumbles, trying and failing to get the fuzziness from his eyes. Whatever they had given him to knock him out, it seems to still be in his system. Bakugo sits across from him, similarly tied up, but seems to be far more lucid than Todoroki. Roving his slow eyes over the blond, Todoroki allows himself to relax at seeing him unharmed. “Are you alright?”

 

“Am I–'' Bakugo cuts himself off angrily, incredulousness pitching his voice up an octave as if he can’t believe Todoroki would ask such a stupid question. “Am I alright?! You’re the fucking asshole who got kidnapped with me.” He spits the last part, voice dropping to his normal pitch as he stares at Todoroki, eyes searching.

 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you alone.” Todoroki says, like it’s obvious, as he tests the bonds holding him. Not only does he have the same rope binding him that Bakugo has, but he also has metal cuffs that seem to be suppressing his quirk. Or that could be the drug still in his system. Either way, whatever the cause, it seems they’ll be trapped for the near future. 

 

It’s quiet for a few seconds until Bakugo lets out a loud sigh and rests his head against the stone wall behind him, staring at Todoroki through half-lidded eyes. He looks exhausted and Todoroki’s heart twinges, if only he could have been faster, neither of them would be in this mess.

 

“Are you…” Bakugo starts, trailing off before grunting and straightening his back. “They gave you something to put you to sleep, right? What the hell was it?”

 

“I don’t know.” Todoroki answers honestly, because he really doesn’t know what’s running through his blood right now. All he knows is “I can’t use my quirk, though.”

“Fuck.” Bakugo hisses. “That’s gonna be a problem. I’ve still got mine but it’s gonna be tough getting out of here-”

 

The door beside Bakugo slams open before he can finish his sentence and both boys jump at the abruptness of the sound. Shigaraki is the first to enter, hands casually in his pockets as he whistles off key. He breaks off his tune when he makes eye contact with Todoroki and suddenly he’s grinning wide and quickening his step.

 

Todoroki has only a moment to blink before there’s a fist tangled in his hair and his head is craned upwards. He vaguely hears Bakugo cursing in the background, teeth gnashing as he tells Shigaraki to “get the fuck away from him”, but his attention is soon drawn back to the door as another figure walks in.

 

“Look who we have here, Dabi.” Shigaraki chortles, positively giddy as his grip in Todoroki’s hair tightens and he shakes him, as if to show him off. “Endeavor’s favorite, in the flesh.”

 

Todoroki’s blood turns to ice at the smirk that rises onto Dabi’s face, eyes cruel as he moves to squat in front of him. He shoots a scarred hand to grab Todoroki’s face and holds it with a meanness that will surely lead to bruising. Squirming uncomfortably under his stare, Todoroki’s eyes search Bakugo’s over Dabi’s shoulder. 

 

Bakugo’s bent forward as far as his confines will allow as he spits insults at Dabi’s back, eyes wide with anger and tinged with fear as he watches smoke start to rise from where Dabi’s grasping Todoroki’s face. He slowly heats his fingertips and sinks them deeper into Todoroki’s flesh until Todoroki’s grunting in pain, jerking against his restraints to get away.

 

“You fucker! Get the fuck away from him!” Bakugo’s shouts as Todoroki’s sounds of pain get louder until Dabi shoves his face back and stands, smug.

 

“You’re right.” Completely ignoring Bakugo, Dabi buries his hand in Todoroki’s hair and yanks him upwards, not waiting for him to find his footing until he’s dragging him out of the room. “How about we see what Endeavor’s favorite has to say about him?” 

 

“What about me, huh?! I’m the one you wanted, leave him the fuck alone and take me instead or I swear–”

 

“Now, now, Bakugo. I wouldn’t go using that quirk of yours while we have little Shouto here.” Dabi smirks down at him, pushing Todoroki backwards into Shigaraki who wraps four fingers around his neck with little preamble, his pointer finger mere centimeters from joining the others. “While it’s true you were the target, we seem to have caught a bigger fish without even trying.”

 

“Bakugo.” Todoroki calls, urging Bakugo to look at him, only continuing when red eyes meet his own. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Todoroki tries to smile reassuringly but it comes off as more of a grimace. Dabi’s fingertips have burned circles into his cheeks and Shigaraki tightens his grip on his neck before pushing him out of the room

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, kid.” Dabi sneers before the door closes with a slam, leaving Bakugo to scream obscenities after them and thrash against the rope holding him until his skin is rubbed raw.

 

 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed since he’d last seen Todoroki but it’s long enough for some masked fucker to shove him into a cell, an actual fucking cell like they’re in some shitty action movie, and for his bonds to be cut just enough for him to break out of the rest. 

 

He’s been pacing for what feels like hours as his mind refuses to focus on anything but Todoroki. He knows he should be formulating a plan to get out, hell, he could probably be digging his way out right now, but he hasn’t seen the half-and-half idiot for what feels like an entire day and it has him wanting to throw up.

 

He’s fine. Bakugo tries to convince himself. If they wanted him dead, they would have killed him the second they saw him…

 

The door to the room that holds his fucking cell creaks open and Bakugo’s heart stops at what he sees.

 

Right?

 

The same masked guy from earlier holds a limp Todoroki up by his arm as he drags him behind him, seeming to not care about the angle that puts Todoroki’s shoulder at. Either he doesn’t care because he’s a piece a shit or–

 

Or.

 

“What the fuck did you fuckers do to him?!” Bakugo scrambles towards the bars separating them, voice borderline hysterical as Todoroki doesn’t react to anything happening around him, head hanging so low his bangs shadow his entire face. “Todoroki! Todoroki–”

“Get back, you idiot.” Hisses the masked man, annoyance clear in his voice as he struggles to hold up the deadweight that is Todoroki as he searches his pockets for something. Bakugo can’t see his eye through his mask but he can feel when they lock onto him as he pauses his search. “Back up or he goes in the other cell.”

 

Bakugo shuts his mouth with an audible click and he hesitantly takes a step backward, eyes wary until the man slowly pulls a set of keys from his pocket and stares at him in silence. Walking backwards until his back hits the wall, Bakugo can’t seem to pull his eyes away from Todoroki as the door to his cell opens with a shriek and Todoroki is quite literally shoved in, falling to the floor with a thud that will haunt Bakugo’s nightmares. 

 

Unable to stop the wordless shout from escaping him, Bakugo lunges forward and collapses on his knees beside the motionless boy, forgetting entirely about the man standing above them and the two open door’s that could be his escape route. The only thing on his mind right now being–

 

“Todoroki!” Bakugo’s voice is panicked as his hands flutter around his still body, unsure of where his injuries lie, before he decides, fuck it, and carefully maneuvers Todoroki onto his back.

 

Now able to see his face, Bakugo finds his breath hitching as he takes in his injuries. 

 

A broken nose and busted lip decorate Todoroki’s pretty face, the blood from the break’s long since dried but no less painful looking with the bruises darkening to black. There are burn marks in the shape of a hand around his neck and Bakugo’s chest aches at the realization that they were choking him. His shirt is partially burned in some places, allowing for Bakugo to see his purpling ribs and he hisses in sympathy at the canvas of bruises that cover Todoroki’s torso.

 

But the worst of it, from what he can see, is his arm. It resembles Aizawa-sensei’s from the incident at USJ after Shigaraki decayed his skin, but so, so, much worse. Bakugo can barely look at it without gagging and his heart races as he searches his brain on how to fix this. Todoroki might not be dead– yet, his mind supplies unhelpfully–but there’s no way these injuries are ones that can be left untreated and– 

 

A clatter breaks his thoughts and his hackles rise until he realizes the cause of the noise. A decently sized first aid kit now lies a few feet from them and Bakugo’s head whips up just as the cell door closes, the masked man staring at them a few moments before locking it and retreating to the exit. 

 

The man isn’t even out of the room entirely before Bakugo lunges forward and grabs the box with shaking hands, barely able to get it open with how he trembles. Inside lies a fully stocked kit of everything he needs, a sob almost escaping him when he catches sight of the needle and thread on the very left side.

 

He prays Todoroki doesn’t need stitches.

 

Allowing himself a moment to breathe, Bakugo wills himself to calm down before pulling the kit beside him and turning to face Todoroki fully. He carefully strokes his half-and-half bangs from his forehead before reaching for the bottle of antiseptic.

 

He was gonna be fine.

 

Bakugo would make sure of it.

 

 

Todoroki comes to when Bakugo’s halfway done bandaging his arm but he doesn’t make his presence known until he’s finished. He simply watches through half-lidded eyes as Bakugo ties off his handiwork with a bow and leans back to wipe the sweat from his forehead, eyes closing in exhaustion. Todoroki studies Bakugo’s face, his eyebrows are so furrowed that Todoroki has the strangest urge to lean forward to smooth them out but his hands remain stubbornly at his side. 

 

It’s only when Bakugo opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact do his eyebrows smooth out, his body going slack with relief at seeing him awake.

 

“Hey!” Bakugo exclaims, softening his voice when he sees Todoroki flinch. Gently pushing him back down from where he’d been trying to sit up, Bakugo leans forward to examine his eyes. Two different size pupils stare back at him and he curses under his breath, of course he has a concussion. “Hey. Don’t try to sit up, idiot. You’re pretty beat up–”

 

“You said my name.” Todoroki interrupts him gently, wincing in pain as the words leave his mouth, cutting like glass. He vaguely remembers a purpled hand enclosing around his throat and the inability to breathe following, whether that be from the smell of burning flesh or just the fact that he got choked out, he’s unsure. 

 

What he is sure of, though, is Bakugo’s voice bringing him back from the brink. He remembers being wrenched painfully out of the chair he’d been strapped to, and a discomfort in his shoulder as he was half-dragged down the dimly lit hallway. He’d been fading in and out of consciousness, wondering if they were finally going to kill him, wondering if maybe he was already dead, when he heard Bakugo call out his name. 

 

His actual name. Not Icyhot, not Half-and-Half, but Todoroki.

 

It had him hoping they’d at least let him see him one last time before killing him.

 

“What?” Bakugo asks, incredulous. That was decidedly not the response he was expecting.

 

“Earlier,” Todoroki explains, unable to look away from the red eyes burning into his own. “Everything was fuzzy but I heard you,” He pauses. “calling my name.”

 

It takes Bakugo much longer than he’d like to admit to process what he’s hearing. This idiot, who had been beaten within an inch of his life by the looks of it, heard Bakugo calling his name and decided it would be the first thing he brings up when he wakes up from his trauma induced nap? Fucking ridiculous. Even more ridiculous is the heat rising up his neck at learning that Todoroki heard him, even in his catatonic state.

 

It does something to his ego and it does something to the part of his brain that wants Todoroki to look at him only.

 

 “You’re hearing things.” Bakugo finally gets out, pointedly ignoring his reddening face. “They must’ve hit you harder than I thought.”

 

“I’ve had worse.” Todoroki mumbles sleepily, allowing his head to loll to the side, having said what he’d wanted to say.

 

“Hey, hey! No falling asleep on me.” Panicked, Bakugo gently taps Todoroki’s unharmed cheek until his eyes open, huffing a laugh at the look of annoyance in those mismatched eyes. His previous statement has nausea settling in Bakugo’s stomach like stone but he knows now isn’t the time to unpack that, so he swallows it down and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

 

“You need to stay awake–don’t give me that look, I know you’re tired.” Bakugo refuses to back down, not even in the face of Todoroki’s surprisingly effective puppy-dog eyes. “But you gotta keep your eyes open, ‘kay? Talk to me about something.”

 

“What should I talk about?” His words are starting to slur.

 

“Anything.” He needs him awake and lucid for the foreseeable future, and talking’s gonna be the best way to ensure that when he’s bent over his most-likely broken ribs.

 

Todoroki doesn’t speak for the few moments it takes Bakugo to raise his tattered shirt, but when he does, Bakugo thinks he might have an aneurysm. 

 

“When I think about you taking my clothes off, it’s never like this.” Todoroki croaks and Bakugo’s head jerks up fast enough that he thinks he might have given himself whiplash. Todoroki’s face is turned away from him, but he’s unable to hide the blush that colors his cheeks and isn’t that a sight that lights Bakugo’s entire body on fire.

 

“Fucking-You fucking–” He can’t seem to string a coherent thought together, his brain focused entirely on the fact that Todoroki’s thought about this. Well, not this this, but Bakugo taking off his shirt, this. Because fuck all if Bakugo hasn’t thought about the same thing before. As if the thought of Todoroki doesn’t keep him up at night.

 

“Sorry.” Comes the embarrassed mumble from the boy in front of him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

“No, fuck–” Bakugo takes a much needed breath and wills his light headedness to dissipate. “No, it’s fine. Next time...next time it’ll be different, alright?” He gets out in one exhale and squeezes his eyes shut as he continues. “It’ll be how we both want it next time.”

 

He hears Todoroki’s hitched breath rather than sees it. “Both?”

 

“Obviously, you idiot. Did you really think otherwise?!” Bakugo thought his affections had been pretty obvious, but then again, Todoroki was dense when it came to these things. 

 

“I hadn’t thought…I didn’t wanna get my hopes up.” And Todoroki biting his lip shyly has lightning coursing through Bakugo’s body, grappling for the first aid kit just to have something to hold, lest he do something stupid like grab Todoroki’s bruised hand.

 

Fuck, he’s going soft.

 

“Shut up, you’re ridiculous.” He almost spills the contents of the kit all over the floor in his rush to grab the next roll of bandages. “Now let me finish what I was doing. God, distracting me like that…can’t believe you dropped that shit out of nowhere. Not that I’m complaining but…”

 

He trails off into silence and it’s quiet between the two for the next few minutes while Bakugo applies ointment to the bruises blooming across Todoroki’s rib cage. It’s only when he begins to wrap his abdomen to help the swelling does Todoroki speak again.

 

“You know, my Mom gave me this scar.”

 

“Fucking hell, Icyhot! Can you have a normal conversation for once in your life?” Bakugo had been so startled that he’d dropped the bandages and just barely managed to stop them from rolling away. Cursing under his breath, he ignores the soft “call me Todoroki, again.” in favor of brushing off the now dirtied gauze. “What brought this on?”

 

Todoroki hums, deciding to drop his insistence of Bakugo calling him by his name (for now) as he brings a hand to run over the scar tissue over his left eye. “Dabi he…he said something about it.” He doesn’t continue, doesn’t say what else was said, but it’s enough that he mentioned it.

 

“I’ll fucking kill him.” As if Bakugo needed further reason to hate the guy.

 

“Thanks.” Todoroki smiles and it has Bakugo’s heart clenching. His smile drops after a moment and he gets that far away look in his eyes that’s been haunting Bakugo since the sports festival. “The burn, it…she poured boiling water from the kettle on the left side of my face because she said I looked like him. ” He doesn’t specify who him is, but he doesn’t need to.

 

The guilt of already having heard this without permission eats away at Bakugo while Todoroki speaks until he’s unable to stomach it any longer. “Look Icyhot, not that I don’t appreciate you trusting me with this but…uh–fuck it,” He takes a breath. “I overheard you talking about all this with Shitty Deku before your fight.” And because he’s an asshole. “I won’t say sorry because it’s not like you were talking quietly! I didn’t set out to overhear but…I can’t sit here and pretend I’m hearing it all for the first time because that’s fucked up.” And because he’s so soft for this fucker. “Sorry.”

 

He’s momentarily so distracted by Todoroki’s pinky brushing against his own from where it rests on his bandaged abdomen that he nearly misses the next words out of his mouth.

 

“I know.” He says it with a sly smile. “I knew you were listening, that’s why I wasn’t, and I quote, “talking quietly”.”

 

“You–you knew?” Bakugo sputters. Here he was thinking this would be some big revelation, some huge issue of trust coming up so early in their relationship (maybe he’s getting ahead of himself now) but Todoroki…knew?

 

“‘Course I knew. You don’t grow up in a house like mine and not know when someone’s behind you.”

 

And isn’t that a fucking knife through the chest. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Todoroki shrugs one shoulder, before wincing at the jolt of pain it sends through his body. “I didn’t want to make you feel awkward.”

 

And isn’t that rich. The boy with the shittiest childhood known to man worrying more about Bakugo’s comfort than the fact that his privacy was invaded. The worst part is Bakugo would have felt awkward if it was brought up, not because of the situation, but of the circumstances of how he came to find out about them. He didn’t mean to overhear, but at any point he could’ve walked away, and he feels bad that he didn’t.

 

“I don’t mind that you know.” Todoroki says when he’s been quiet for a touch too long, as if he knows exactly what’s causing Bakugo turmoil, as if he’s a mind reader, as if he’s fluent in Bakugo Katsuki. 

 

And he just might be because those six words leave Bakugo boneless as a weight he hadn’t known he was carrying falls from his shoulders like autumn leaves. Todoroki doesn’t mind that he knows because he trusts Bakugo, he likes Bakugo. And the thought leaves him so giddy he almost forgets what else was bothering him.

 

Almost.

 

“Wait, if you knew I knew, why were you telling the story again?”

 

“Oh.” Todoroki says, as if suddenly remembering himself. “Well, maybe you’ve noticed my scar’s on my left side? Boiling water isn’t enough to burn my fire side but…my Mom…she came to her senses pretty fast after I started screaming and in an attempt to alleviate the burn…she activated her quirk.” He pauses like saying this hurts and Bakugo’s heart pounds out of his chest at his next words. “This isn’t a heat burn on my face, it’s an ice burn.”

 

Bakugo doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making, but if it’s as horrified as he feels, he understands why Todoroki scrambles to continue.

 

“It was my Dad’s fault, really. He’s the one who pushed her to that.” He says it with conviction and Bakugo wonders how long it took for him to fully believe that. How many times he’s told himself that in the mirror in an attempt to comfort himself.

 

“Yeah, but…that’s still shitty.” Bakugo whispers, grabbing Todoroki’s hand fully and squeezing gently. 

 

“Yeah.” Todoroki breathes, squeezing Bakugo’s hand as hard as he can, which admittedly, isn’t that hard considering how beat up he is. “It is shitty.”

 

They let the silence linger until it’s unbearable.

 

“I don’t know why I…I just wanted to tell you that. I’m sorry if that was a lot.”

 

And Bakugo’s chest aches. Todoroki is so fucking caring that he’s apologizing for possibly making Bakugo uncomfortable by talking about his shitty past as if Bakugo doesn’t want to know everything about him, as if he doesn’t want to hear everything he has to share and possibly add more people to his hit list as a consequence of that sharing.

 

“It’s fine.” Bakugo replies, running his thumb against the soft skin of Todoroki’s hand in an attempt to sooth them both. He lets the silence linger until he sees Todoroki begin to nod off again, the comfort Bakugo’s providing making his already cotton-stuffed head even fluffier.

 

Patting his hand, Bakugo waits until Todoroki opens his eyes before speaking. 

 

“Lemme finish patching you up and then we can plan our jailbreak.”

 

“Do you think it’ll be that easy?” Todoroki says, amused by Bakugo’s utmost faith in the both of them. It does something to his heart.

 

“Don’t insult me like that ever again.” Grinning wildly, Bakugo allows Todoroki’s mindless rambling be the background noise as he finishes tending to Todoroki’s numerous wounds.

 

As for the jailbreak part.

 

It seems nothing can ever be easy for them.

 

 

Bakugo’s idly aware of a hand grabbing hold of his ankle over the pain radiating from his abdomen before he’s freefalling again. His vision’s blurry with pain but he would recognize him anywhere, even just by the touch against his leg, he knew who it was.

 

The Half-and-Half idiot managed to catch him again.

 

Allowing himself to relax, he smiles as he’s tucked close to a warm chest, an arm moving to grasp him around the waist. Realistically he knows the movement should hurt, that the touch should feel like fire, but it’s like Bakugo’s body knows

 

Todoroki could never hurt him.

 

 He closes his eyes shut as the wind pushes up against him. His heart’s in his throat and the feeling is worse than any roller coaster he’s ever been on before there’s something cool under his feet and they slide to a stop. Blinking his eyes back open, he huffs a laugh as Todoroki deposits his father onto the ground none too gently. With one hand firmly wrapped around his waist, Todoroki carefully lowers Bakugo to the ground, softly setting his pounding head against the concrete. 

 

A warm hand cups his cheek and mismatched eyes meet his own as Todoroki smiles down at him. “I’ve got you.”

 

“You got me.” Bakugo rasps, leaning further into the hand against his cheek as he swallows past the blood in his mouth. “Nice catch, by the way.”

 

Todoroki’s smile turns playful and he tilts his head down at Bakugo. “I seem to be getting pretty good at that, huh?”

 

The laugh Bakugo lets out hurts but he can’t help it when it comes to him. “Let’s not get cocky now.” His smile comes out as more of a grimace as his face falls, a mouthful of blood that he was unable to swallow coming up as he coughs wetly.

 

Todoroki’s face turns serious, his smile falling like rain and Bakugo can’t help but mourn the loss. Eyes pinching at the corners as he wipes the red from below Bakugo’s mouth before he leans back and starts fiddling with the various pouches and canisters he carries. Bakugo watches the downturn of his lips, the furrow in his brow, and his shaking hands as he pulls out disinfectant and bandages. Turning back to face him, his face is grim but the shaking in his hands has lessened somewhat and he looks resolute in what he has to do next.

 

Bakugo loves that look on him.

 

“This is gonna hurt.” Todoroki says, no preamble as he uncaps the can of antiseptic with his teeth and doesn’t that do something to him. If he wasn’t bleeding out currently, Bakugo thinks he’d be as red as his blood pooling on the ground.

 

“Like a bitch.” Bakugo grins, teeth bloody and that’s all the permission Todoroki needs before he’s cleaning Bakugo’s wounds and it fucking burns.

 

Clenching his jaw enough to hurt, Bakugo breathes heavily through his nose as he almost blacks out from the pain. He thinks he might because he doesn’t remember how Todoroki’s right hand ended up on his face again, massaging Bakugo’s jaw, but he’s not complaining.

 

He’d never pass up on his touch.

 

“Sorry,” Todoroki says sympathetically, his free hand running under Bakugo’s back before applying pressure against his spine, holding him up as he makes quick work of bandaging Bakugo’s torso. “You’re gonna be okay.”

 

Bakugo only smirks, knowing the blood loss will be catching up with him soon but between Todoroki’s ministrations and the med staff he can see out of the corner of his eye quickly approaching, he knows he’s gonna make it out this time.

 

“Yeah.” And because he’s delirious from his injury and from Todoroki’s touch, he keeps going. “How could I not be when I’ve got you here?”

 

And the embarrassment he’ll feel when he wakes up for dropping such a cheesy line is nothing compared to the feeling that alights in his chest at seeing the way Todoroki turns as red as his hair, turning his head away from Bakugo shyly. He’s usually not one for sweet words, especially in public, but his super hot boyfriend just grabbed him out of the sky and kept him alive until help arrived so sue him.

 

“Such a sap.” Todoroki mumbles before he’s leaning down and pressing a kiss to Bakugo’s cheek, holding his lips there for a moment before pulling back. And Bakugo knows what’s coming next but it still hurts all the same. Someone falls to their knees beside the couple, immediately getting to work treating Bakugo and Endeavor, and Todoroki rises to his feet.

 

They have a fight to win, they both know that, but it doesn’t make parting any easier.

 

“Be careful.” Bakugo looks up at Todoroki, haloed by the sun and looking like a vision, and suddenly the pain isn’t so bad. “Kick their asses.”

 

There’s so much more he could say but he knows that Todoroki knows the words they both leave unsaid.

 

“Of course, just for you.” Todoroki smirks, and it’s a teasing remark but it’s also a true one. He’s going to kick Shigaraki’s ass for what he’s done. Throwing up a lazy salute, he spins on his heel and takes off back to the battlefield, away from Bakugo.

 

The last thing Bakugo sees before the blood loss finally catches up to him is Todoroki’s figure in the distance, craning his neck over his shoulder to take one more look at Bakugo before he’s back into the fray.

 

 

The last thing Katsuki sees before his heart is, quite literally torn from his chest, is Shouto. 

 

Contrary to popular belief, your life doesn’t flash before your eyes when you die, or at least, it didn’t for Katsuki. He saw his friends, yeah, but that’s also because they all watched in horror as he had a hole punched straight through his chest. He saw Shouto, collapsing to the ground, mouth opening in a scream he couldn’t hear. But he wasn’t overwhelmed with every waking moment of his entire life.

 

His life doesn’t flash before his eyes when he dies.

 

But he does see Shouto as it all goes dark, and isn’t that the same thing?

 

 

When Katsuki comes to to the sound of Shouto's steadily rising voice, his first thought is that they both died and he’s going to kill Shouto again for dying.

 

Because what the fuck Shou?

 

But if he were dead then he wouldn’t feel like he got hit by a train, he assumes at least, and so he focuses a little more on what's happening around him.

 

There’s arguing, Katsuki realizes, with his boyfriend instigating it if his ears are to be believed. And it would be funny if Shouto wasn’t getting progressively more upset, something very unlike him, until his voice catches and Katsuki just barely makes out a small “Please, don’t make me leave him.”

 

Oh.

 

Unable to go without seeing him for a moment more, Katsuki opens his eyes and immediately regrets it when the brightness of the room has him groaning, squeezing his eyes shut once more.

 

Or, eye. Because for some reason he can only see out of one. 

 

All at once the room bursts into noise. The nurse excitedly leans her head out the door and into the hallway, calling for a doctor despite the fact that he’d rather everyone in the damn hospital but Shouto leave. But he finds he’s unable to care about anything else but Shouto’s face falling as his mouth opens in a sob. 

 

And Katsuki realizes he’s never seen him cry before.

 

Half stumbling, half lunging, Shouto collapses to his knees beside Katsuki’s hospital bed and drops his head to the mattress, crying in a way that has tears stinging Katsuki’s eyes.

 

It hurts to move, hurts to breathe, but seeing Shouto cry leaves him feeling like his heart’s being ripped from his chest all over again, and so he drops a palm onto two-toned hair, perhaps a little too heavy handedly. He’s not sure how long he’s been dead? Unconscious? He doesn’t know the specifics, but he does know his entire body feels like lead and Shouto’s crying so hard he’s hyperventilating. 

 

“Shou–” Katsuki tries to get out but his voice gives out halfway into a cough and it’s agony. Biting back a scream, he feels rather than sees Shouto leaning closer to him, his tears wetting the front of Katsuki’s hospital gown.

 

“D-don’t try to speak.” Shouto croaks. Cracking his eye open, he takes up all of Katsuki's vision and he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, even with the snot and the tears. His eyes are so, so sad, and the shadows underneath them look like bruises, they’re so dark. He opens his mouth to say more but before the words can escape him, hospital staff is piling into the room like they own the place (they technically do) and Katsuki is forced to watch Shouto cry softly to himself at the far end of the room as he’s poked and prodded and eventually, given an official all clear.

 

-

 

It turns out that dying is kind of a big deal.

 

Big enough of a deal for a pro-hero to sacrifice himself to save Katsuki; snot-nosed, stubborn, kind of an asshole Katsuki whose life was apparently more valuable than someone else's.

 

He tries not to feel survivor’s guilt (he fails).

 

Apparently getting a completely new heart and set of lungs is also a big deal. Big enough of a deal that he’s been comatose for two weeks. Big enough of a deal that Todoroki Shouto, who undoubtedly has his own shit to deal with after the war, has camped out at his bedside everyday and night if the smirking nurses are to be believed.

 

And when Katsuki looks over at Shouto as medical staff file out, he’s still tucked into the corner of the room, arms wrapped around himself in some semblance of comfort. Eyes wide and red and still crying, even though it’s been over an hour.

 

Katsuki genuinely afraid his new heart might actually break at seeing him like this.

 

“C’mere.” He mumbles, even though the doctor told him strictly “no talking for a while”, because of his new lungs or whatever, he really wasn’t paying attention to anything but Shouto. 

 

Who is still standing there like he’s seen a ghost.

 

“Shou,” Katsuki tries again, thankful they took the stupid bandage off his eye so he can really look at him “C’mon.”

 

Shouto's eyes don’t leave his as he takes clumsy, heavy steps to Katsuki’s bedside. He stops feet away and just stares, as if afraid to get closer. Unable to stand the distance between them, Katsuki lifts one arm in invitation, desperation bleeding onto his face as he urges Shouto to lie with him. Shouto’s eyes go wide and panicky as he scans Katsuki’s face and Katsuki only nods, no room for arguments or second guessing.

 

The aching of his body is inconsequential as Shouto slides into the sliver of space that the tiny hospital bed allows, making himself as small as possible to fit. He curls into Katsuki’s side and goes easily when he’s pulled to rest partially on top of him.

 

And Katsuki finds that despite everything, it doesn’t hurt.

 

Shouto shakes atop him like he does when he wakes from a nightmare and Katsuki wonders if that’s what these past few weeks had been for him.

 

A nightmare.

 

“You died.” Shouto whispers, voice cracking on the second word and Katsuki blinks back the wetness in his eyes. “I saw you die.”

 

And it’s the absolute devastation in his voice that has Katsuki pulling him tighter against him, burying his face in his too soft hair and breathing heavily. If he pretends hard enough, he can imagine them lying in Katsuki’s bed on a normal Saturday. On the weekends, Katsuki indulges Shouto and stays in bed a little longer than he normally does, and it’s only partially because Shouto insists on laying on top of him because he likes to feel him breathe or something. 

 

“Please,” Shouto’s gasping from where he’s buried in Katsuki’s neck, his lips moving against the sensitive skin there. “Please, never leave me again.”

 

“Never,” Katsuki mumbles into Shouto’s temple, pressing his lips to the spot again and again and again as he finally lets his tears fall. “I promise, I’m never leaving you again. I’d come back from the dead for you.”



“You did.”

 

“And I’d do it again.” 

 

“No,” Pulling back, Shouto moves so his face hovers over Katsuki. His sobs have subsided, somewhat, but his tears continue to fall, mixing with Katsuki’s. His eyes are red and his nose is stuffy and he is so, so beautiful. “You’re not allowed to die again. No more wars, you’re not allowed to fight in them anymore.” And he leans down until his lips brush Katsuki’s to whisper the next part, voice taking on the best teasing tone it can after being ripped to shreds by his cries.

 

“You’re lucky I don’t ban you from being a hero.”

 

Tilting his head upwards, Katsuki whispers the next part into Shouto’s open mouth, voice as serious as his love for him. “I am lucky. I’m so lucky to have you.”

 

Whining at his words, Shouto presses his lips fully to Katsuki’s and sobs lightly into his mouth when he feels Katsuki press back, firm but gentle. During the breaths they take when they pull back for air, Shouto sobs out his love for him, every press of lips an I love you, every gasping breath an I missed you. And Katsuki catches it all, his own I love you too ’s a balm that doesn’t do much to soothe, but he presses them to Shouto’s lips anyway. Because he does love him, so, so much, and he missed him too. He can feel it in the way his soul aches, how his body yearns to touch him. What he is and what he’s made of knew it was apart from Shouto and now that he has him in his arms once again, he’s never letting go. He presses deeper and deeper into him and Shouto takes it all, and gives it right back.

 

He tastes like salt, like tears, and like Shouto.

 

And nothing hurts.

 

 

Shouto’s face hovers above him and in the morning light, he is a vision. Katsuki doesn’t know what time it is but judging by the twinkle in Shouto’s eye, he knows it’s much later than he planned to sleep in. But it’s their day off and they were up late last night, the bruises sucked onto Shouto’s throat and his kiss-sore lips proof of that, so excuse him if he wants to spend the day in bed with his unfairly attractive husband. 

 

The comforter falls around Shouto’s waist as he sits up, perched in Katsuki’s lap, something that’s also reminiscent of last night. He’s got a grin rising on his face as a flush spreads across both their bodies when he grinds down, just the slightest bit, and it takes everything in Katsuki not to push up against him and pull him into a kiss. Instead, he’s good and patient and waits to see what his little devil has planned.

 

Shouto traces his finger over the scar on Katsuki’s cheek and flits his fingers down his sides. He’s sitting atop him, as is his favorite spot, and can’t help the giddiness that rises within him when Katuski’s hands envelop his waist, squeezing, before lowering to rest against his hips. 

 

Similarly, his favorite spot. 

 

His fingertips find the bruises he’d pressed gently into his skin the night before and Shouto relishes in the feeling that blooms inside him. His head is full of nothing but Katsuki as he leans down to kiss him. He’s never been a neat kisser, per say, but neither is Katsuki, so neither mind the sloppy noises that arise from where their mouths finally, finally, meet. 

 

And if they kiss into each other’s mouths and tongue along the open seams of each other's lips and perhaps get a little too handsy for 10 in the morning and stay in bed until evening when Shouto whines out he’s hungry and Katsuki, unable to say no to him, lugs them both out of bed to make breakfast for dinner, then that’s for them to know.

 

Scars litter their bodies and there are freckles on Katsuki’s nose and there are purple bruises on Shouto’s thighs and Katsuki kisses him like he’s drowning.

 

And nothing hurts.