DISCLAIMER: I don't own Boku No Hero Academia. You don't say.


The first time it happens, he's too engrossed in the heat of the race to label it properly.

He vaguely remembers thinking that Todoroki's arms felt way more toned than it was reasonable to expect given his pussy-like fighting style; but that's about it, really. No sparks, no butterflies and certainly none of that skipping a heartbeat bullshit that fucking Deku claims to have felt the first time he spoke to Uraraka-chan on the phone.

Anyone who'd known Bakugou Katsuki for as long as twenty seconds would tell you he wouldn't be caught dead admitting to such girlish crap anyway.

But – and here's the catch.

Somehow it… still happens.

Later, Bakugou would pin it down to the adrenaline that fucking obstacle race had instilled in him. Getting so close, so close to the finish line, just to have it all taken away by fucking Deku of all people… Anyone would be affected by something like that, right? Well, admittedly maybe not exactly the way Bakugou himself had been affected, but he is known to be a passionate individual after all. The blond keeps rolling the statement in his mind, as he alternates between furiously banging his head against his bedroom's door and pulling his hard as a rock dick in almost vicious tugs, desperate to blow off at least part of the steam that has been boiling inside of him the whole day.

What could any of this have to do with Todoroki Shouto, though, is anyone's guess.

Bakugou himself does not think much of it, if anything at all, until it happens again.


It's the final stage of the sodding sport festival, and fate decided to spit in his face once more by putting him up against some irritating nobody while Deku gets to face the fucking star of the festival, the prodigy, son of none other than n. 2 hero Endeavor. Bakugou chews on his outrage as he pulverizes Uraraka without so much as breaking a sweat – and that truly is saying something considering his Quirk, he humorlessly muses. How come that some good-for-nothing brat who didn't even have a Quirk for the better part of his life is drawing so much attention to himself, while he, Bakugou Katsuki, the legendary king of explosions, hasn't even been able to win a single stage of this stupid competition yet?

But it's not all Midoriya's fault, the bomber realizes while marching down the hallway headed for his waiting room.

It's that other kid.

That stupid, melodramatic half-'n-half who turned his fight against Deku into such a big deal their match practically ruined the audience for any other.

If Todoroki hadn't been such a fucking crybaby about his Quirk, Bakugou ponders as he kicks the waiting room door open, his battle with Deku would have been far less spectacular, and he, Bakugou Katsuki, ranked 1st in the Yuuei entry test, would have gotten the credit he rightly deserved.

Well, now.

Speak of the devil.

"The fuck are you doing here, Half-'n-Half?"

Even his face is infuriating, Bakugou muses as he yells at his soon-to-be adversary. Todoroki sits quietly at the table, seemingly absorbed in deep thought, and barely acknowledges his presence. Surely, he must be still mourning over his pathetic existence as shown to him by that insufferable Deku, whom now he even thinks he owes… Bakugou feels the blood rise to his head as one thought surfaces in his mind, clouding his judgement and drowning his vision in red.

He doesn't give a shit about Todoroki, but damn him if he'd ever come second to Deku in anyone's eyes.

Sure enough, the moment Midoriya's name leaves Todoroki's lips Bakugou loses it entirely. He takes out his rage and frustration on the innocent table, while shouting at the bewildered prodigy to stop, stop it, stop looking right through him, as if he didn't exist, as if

When he retreats to his assigned waiting room, he's positively fuming.

Damn half-'n-half freak. How dare he get distracted by that useless flea right before his battle vs the one and only Bakugou Katsuki? His boot-clad foot smashing repeatedly against the edge of yet another poor table, the blond hisses through gritted teeth. This goddamn sport festival is a complete joke anyway. A chair is knocked over with unwarranted force. Like any competition worthy of the name could ever see Midoriya Izuku winning over him! The door hinges creak pitifully as a vicious fist slams into the adjacent wall. Oh, but they will fucking see! The students, the teachers, the audience – a brutal kick sends the table flying to the floor – and he above all, stupid, stuck-up, half-freak daddy boy – an All Might poster comes off the quivering wall, fluttering like a white flag in the wind – fucking asshole, Todoroki…

That's when it dawns on him.

His whole body shaking with aggravation, Bakugou slumps against the nearest wall. The blond bomber takes a minute to contemplate the utter mess the waiting room has become; then his gaze falls down to the tented crotch of his uniform pants.

Not again, dammit.

Seriously, what's with him and rage-induced boners these days? Granted, his sensual awakening as you may call it had happened long before he joined Yuuei, but the rate and, well, intensity of his private moments have gone up dramatically as of late – as have his fits of anger. It almost feels like the worse his temper gets, the more attention his body demands.

Is this even a thing? Like, scientifically…

Screw science. Bakugou groans in annoyance and palms his erect manhood through the blue fabric, eyes fixed on the clock on the opposite wall. He still has a couple minutes before the fight that will meticulously obliterate Todoroki Shouto from the face of Earth. Might as well try to get his mind off things for a while.

Except all the images that flash behind his half-closed eyelids as he dips his right hand into his pants and starts gingerly stroking are bathed in a disturbing red and white shade. Try as he may, thoughts of the annoying ice jerk won't leave him alone. What's most troubling is, that's not affecting his prominent arousal in the slightest.

Alright, Bakugou will concede: being 16, hardly anything can turn him off these days. He would expect his very male nemesis to be one of those things, though.

Wait a minute. The blond frowns, his wrist movements slowing down a tad as the most alarming thought as yet creeps its way into his lust-addled brain. When did he start to think of Todoroki as his nemesis, again? Since he was a fucking child, it had always been…

Unsurprisingly, the mere thought of Deku is enough to get his boner to falter. As it should be. Sex fantasies and Midoriya would never, ever cross his mind at the same time. Hughhh, jeez.

Grimacing at his own train of thought, Bakugou picks up the pace of his stroking, trying to bring the mortifying task to completion before some teacher has to send word for him. Searching his brain for some helpful bits of memories – that time after class when he'd almost, almost caught a glimpse of Yaoyorozu's left boob jutting out from her tank top – proves futile though, as the only images flooding his inner eye seem to be in all 50 fucking shades of red and white, again.

Todoroki running up to Deku, frost forming on his right check, his breath labored and mis-matched eyes sparkling with resolve.

The sheer, unadulterated will to prevail in his expression as flames ingulfed his left side for the first time.

And the words he spoke.

"I will be a hero too!"

Biting hard on his bottom lip to muffle any impending sound, Bakugou pumps his dick harder and faster, till orgasm shocks through him like lightning and he ends up emptying himself all over the tiled floor.

His shoulders sag as he lets out a long, shaky breath.

This is going to be one hell of an interesting fight.


How dare he.

How dare he do this to him.

Bakugou buries his face in the pillow he's spent the last forty minutes beating to a pulp. There are wet trails on the pillow case where tears have stained it. He never knew one could actually cry out of rage, until this very moment.

The lamp on the nightstand casts its dim light on the hideous piece of metal lying on the floor beside the bed. Some medal that was. He'd sooner swallow it whole than wear it proudly on his chest, as everyone from Class I-A seems to believe he ought to. Of course they couldn't understand. In their small, miserable, pathetic lives a win was "still a win", as they'd put it when Bakugou had regained consciousness in the infirmary bed and cried out his outrage for the lame outcome of the sport festival.

That fucking half-'n-half will pay for this.

The bedsheets rustle as Bakugou curls up in a ball, eyes scrunched tight with no hope for rest. The words All Might had spoken at the awarding ceremony earlier that day replay in his mind, sounding hollower by the minute.

"Think of your medal as a scar, and never forget about this day."

Easy for him to say. What would the n.1 hero know about humiliation anyway? Tears of frustration well up in his eyes again, stinging like that gnawing, dark feeling at the pit of his stomach that keeps him from getting any sleep.

Todoroki can't get away with it.

Bakugou sits up abruptly. He's been going around in circles, looking for a way to let out his frustration and despair – when, really, it was so simple all along. He'll feel much better knowing he's not the only one up with stormy thoughts in the dead of night.


As an old time tradition, Yuuei students are given the opportunity to choose whether to stay at home during the 3-year course or move to the school dorm. Most 1st-years are usually enthralled with the perspective of living their first real life experience as grownups, but many end up homesick before first term is over.

Given his family situation, Todoroki Shouto is quite unlikely to go home anytime soon. Bakugou is pretty damn sure he's not even leaving for the 2-day vacation the school is having to let everyone recover from the whole festival fuss. He had briefly considered going back himself – it would be kinda nice to see his folks and his old room – but the overly enthusiastic phone call he'd got from Mitsuki right after the awarding ceremony had quickly changed his mind. God knows the last thing he needs right now is to be complimented on that sorry excuse for a victory, or, even worse, to go over every detail of the match with his mum pointing out all the parts where her son had sworn or been rude to his friends in any way.

Bakugou stomps down the hallway, wanting to make his presence known. He doesn't give a crap about the others' beauty sleep anyway. If he can't get any shut-eye, it's only fair the rest of the world shouldn't either.

Todoroki's room is a couple doors down, at the farther end of the corridor. Bakugou is not sure how he even possesses this bit of information, since he has never felt the desire to pursue any kind of relation with Endeavor's son. It does come in handy now, however, as he halts in front of the jerk's door. Anticipation runs through him in tiny shockwaves that leave him tingling all over. Time for a wake-up call that'll ruin Todoroki's chances at going back to sleep for the rest of the night, if he's in luck.

The bomber bangs his clenched fist on the door. Once, twice, with intention. Not going away 'til I kick your stupid ass into next week.

He's seconds away from blowing up the sodding door with his Quirk when the lock comes off and Todoroki appears, a white ghost against the dark inside of the bedroom.

"Bakugou? What are you doing here?"

He's even paler than usual, Bakugou half-mindedly notices, as he shoves him aside to make his way into the room. He can tell his goal is at least partially reached, as Todoroki had clearly been asleep. He must have sprung out of bed, too, if the sheets tangled on the floor are any indication. A satisfied smirk arches his lips, but it's gone before he even turns around to face the other boy. "What do you think, idiot?" When no reaction comes, the blond adds in a low hiss. "Thought I'd give you a piece of my mind after the shit you pulled today."

Todoroki rests his back against the door, closing it behind them. His eyes darken a shade or two at the words, but his voice is steady and quiet as he replies. "I know you're upset. For what it's worth, I never meant to humiliate you. It wasn't personal."

Blood instantly rushing to his head, Bakugou grabs the other by the white collar of his pajama shirt. "You got to be shitting me." He jostles Todoroki up against the doorframe, hands shaking with aggravation.

The half-'n-half holds his stare, unfazed. "I merely told you the truth. What happened at the final had nothing to do with you. I wasn't feeling well after my fight with Midoriya and got overwhelmed, is all."

"Don't you dare – " Bakugou heaves, his knuckles turning white. It takes him all of his willpower not to crush the bastard's halved head into the wall right now. "Don't you fucking dare bring that loser up now. This is between you and me, get it, asshole?"

Todoroki's eyes narrow to slits as he lifts his arms to cover up the bomber's hands with his own. He squeezes Bakugou's wrists warningly. "Let go of me now."

"Or else? You won't fight me anyway, will ya?" The bomber grins maniacally, not loosening his grip. "You'll only get serious 'round that fucking nerd… I'm not worth your time, am I, princess?" Bakugou spits on the ground, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "Daddy must be so proud of his little pussy of a son…"

A sudden breeze is all the warning Bakuou gets before his fingers go rigid and numb around the fabric of Todoroki's shirt. Hit a nerve there, huh? "You really believe I'm afraid of this all-powerful Quirk of yours?" He yanks the slightly taller boy down, bringing him closer. "Think I don't know how to counter it by now? If I stick to you like this…", Bakugou presses their bodies flush together in demonstration, "… you can't turn me into a popsicle without freezing to death yourself. And since you won't use your left side to warm up, you can't do shit to me from this position." He scoots even closer to whisper the final words directly in Todoroki's ear. "While I can blow you up by snapping my fingers, if I feel like it."

He's having the fucking time of his life. Pinning Todoroki to the wall, having him shake with rage and frustration, helpless and mortified like he'd made Bakugou feel in the morning. What goes around…

Suddenly, the icy wave threatening his wrists subsides. "If you came in here to get back at me for the festival, go ahead. I won't stop you, if it'll make you feel any better."

Todoroki's steely voice matches the bitterness in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably in Bakugou's grasp; then, seeing it won't relent, gives him a lopsided smirk that stirs something inside the blond. "Is this really the kind of hero you wish to become? To think you look up to All Might, of all people…"

"Leave All Might out of this." Bakugou replies mechanically. What is the idiot playing at? What's with the fucking condescension now, as if what he'd done to him in the morning was not enough to get on Bakugou's bad side for the rest of their lives. His voice lowers to a growl. "You really piss me off, fucking Half-'n-Half." He brings their noses closer together, with half a mind to spit directly in the other's scarred face. "I should crush you right here and now…"

Todoroki tilts his head backwards, raising his chin in a defiant pose that drives Bakugou insane. "I'd like to see you try."

Their eyes lock, killing intent radiating off their bodies. Bakugou can tell the other is dying to use his Quirk and is only waiting for him to put some distance between them. Like hell. He's feeling quite comfortable pushed up against Todoroki's oddly sculpted torso, their arms trapped between their chests and legs entangled to keep their balance. A surge of heat runs through his body, the feeling of dominance intoxicating his very senses.

And then it happens.

It's barely noticeable, really, just a short-lived twitch in his pants. But from where they're standing now, their nether regions pressed flush together, there's no way Todoroki could miss it.

Holy…

The telltale blush that blooms on Bakugou's cheeks seals his fate. He can see Todoroki's eyes widen slightly as confusion gives way to understanding. The half-'n-half's jaw slackens, the parting of his lips suggesting he may be about to say something. Bakugou decides against taking his chances and lets go of him hastily.

"Stay outta my way, you piece of shit." The blond murmurs gruffly, looking everywhere but at the other boy. Then he runs for the door, slams it behind him and bolts down the corridor, only stopping to breathe again when he's back in the safety of his own bedroom.

Shit.

He's just blown it completely, and his Quirk had nothing to do with it.


A/N ** If you made it this far, why hello, my wonderful reader! This is my first attempt at a BNHA fanfic, so I'll get a few things straight before we continue. As you may have noticed, in this story the Yuuei Academy has got a hall of residence for students in all years, and most of our beloved characters are living on school grounds. There might be other minor changes in the future, but I intend on staying true to the original story as far as possible.

On a side note, I haven't been writing fanfics for a very long time (I might also be kinda too old for this now, ahem), so please go easy on me! *bats lashes* Any comment is appreciated, but the good ones literally make my week.

Next update coming up shortly, because I just have to get this story out of my system. Damn these two kids, really.**