Todoroki loved his husband, but even that was an extensive understatement. More accurately, Todoroki was obsessed with his husband. He cherished every moment spent with Bakugou, every word they exchanged, and every time he was able to see Bakugou or hear his voice. Bakugou was like an ethereal drug to Todoroki, and every time Todoroki's mind was washed with thoughts of only Bakugou, an effervescent surge of ecstasy rattled through Todoroki's being.
Curled up next to Bakugou in bed, Todoroki silently admired his perfect husband. He ran his hands through Bakugou's luscious hair, deftly caressing each strand as the pale, ash-blonde threads flipped through his fingers like the pages in a book. The soft, gritty sensation of those sun-kissed strands rolling between his flesh was incredibly familiar, but not in the way that one would expect.
"You're not like the rest," Todoroki whispered under his breath while tenderly massaging around Bakugou's scapulae. "You're just like… No. You're superior. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I waited so long to finally find you. When I saw you, I knew… I knew it was you. Ah… You're so perfect like this." His lips gently crept over Bakugou's neck.
With a thrawn, saccharine smile, Todoroki hummed softly and insinuated himself into Bakugou's sweet yet sour scent. He adored the warmth that spilled down Bakugou's chest and seeped down between them like a sticky stain of unfettered love. His warm breaths streamed across Bakugou's neck, clinging to his flesh like morning dew. Everything was drenched in such a potent, sweet warmth, but Todoroki drank down the beautifully bitter veil of crazed love as though to feed his addiction to Bakugou.
The morning was cold. Crunchy, crusty frost had exsanguinated the beating heart of blissful warmth that Todoroki relished with every fiber of his being. Todoroki didn't mind the silent bite of the cold, but he certainly preferred the feeling of being drowned in a syrupy spring of unadulterated affection.
The tang of the air wafted through Todoroki's nostrils as he inhaled the unparalleled aroma of his husband. He sat upright and gently nudged against Bakugou to awaken him. Once Bakugou's eyes were peeled open, Todoroki smiled faintly.
"How did you sleep?" Todoroki inquired while lifting Bakugou into his lap and hugging the latter like a lifeless doll.
"Perfect 'cuz of you," Todoroki could hear Bakugou chuckle. "Never a bad night of sleep when you're next ta me." His head rested against Todoroki's shoulder.
Todoroki leisurely rubbed across Bakugou's crisp chest. "This is why you're perfect. This might feel like it's the same as everyone else, but it's not. I want to make every part of you mine and mine alone. I want to preserve this love forever. I want this to be perfect forever. That's why… Them? They were in the way. Ugly. Useless. Disgraces. They were disgusting animals that tried to mimic being perfect. You're perfect. The only thing is… You think that I'm perfect. That's another reason why I did this. There can only be one perfect person, and that's you, Katsuki. That's the one flaw I see in you. I'm not perfect. I'm 'crazy,' 'obsessive,' 'insane,' 'creepy,' and many other things."
My best friend… Perfect. He was perfect. Head to toe. Everywhere. Everything. He was perfect. What I would have done to be him… Walk around in his body, look through his eyes, know what he knew, see what he saw… In a way, I did, but more literally than figuratively. It was so warm, just like yesterday. But…
Todoroki squinted as his memories resurfaced after an unusually long period of lying dormant before besieging his mind. "It was an accident…" he muttered to himself while scratching around his wrists. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I just wanted to hug you. I didn't mean for you to hit your head. I didn't mean to kill you. My best friend and my idol…dead on the floor. Me… It was my fault. I'll never stop punishing myself for what I did, accident or not. It's inexcusable. I did get to walk around in your shoes and your skin, though. So warm… It felt so perfect. But, all of a sudden, everyone that resembled you seemed inferior and vile—they were mocking your perfect existence that I destroyed. So, I killed them. Anyone that resembles you… I'll kill them to kill their mockery, their half-assed attempts at being you, their dreadful masquerades… The world only needed you. It didn't need disgusting, half-baked failures. But then…" He hugged Bakugou tight.
"Then, I met you. You were him. You were perfect. You were just like him in every way. I didn't kill him. I didn't kill you on that day as an accident. I didn't… That's right. I didn't kill you. That would be absurd. Too cruel. Much too cruel… The thought that I did still makes me itch with guilt, so, as punishment, I leave these unsightly scars that itch so much. They also remind me that I'll never be perfect, no matter what I do to try and be you. I just couldn't find you for so long. I didn't kill you. But I found you again. I'm addicted to you as much as I was before, if not even more. You're perfect. I just had to silence that one flaw before you could kill me to be able to say that I'm perfect. You were just like me. You killed to have exactly what you wanted. Everyone that resembles you is inferior. Because of this, I can get rid of them, but maybe…I'll find you again."
He planted a kiss atop Bakugou's head. "You can't tell me that I'm perfect anymore—your single flaw. This is the truth: you are perfect. Now, you're absolutely, undeniably, unequivocally…perfect." Todoroki latched onto the corpse of his husband that he'd murdered the day prior by deliberately impaling him in the heart, and with that, Todoroki inhaled the scent of his addiction once more.