Hello and welcome to another update for Marks on My Heart! I am so thrilled that you are on this journey with me. Thank you so much for the love and support you've given this story! I adore hearing what you think; it really makes day! I hope you enjoy what happens next!

Chapter 8: Just for Now

He shouldn't have kept the picture. He should have deleted it. He never should have kept the text. Did it count as a victory that he hadn't actually made the picture his phone's background? For more than five minutes, that is.

Shouto slid his finger across his phone's screen, accidentally enlarging the photo and blocking out the cheery text it had come with. His phone screen was now entirely comprised of the picture Midoriya had taken of Shouto and Bakugou curled around each that night they'd accidentally fallen asleep together.

Even though Bakugou's recovery prohibited the kind of exercise his body was used to he still had large, well defined muscles, especially through his shoulders and arms. It was a natural consequence of his hero work and managing the heavy weight of his gauntlets. Midoriya's body was slimmer, and the shortest of all three of them, but his muscles were solid bands of iron that gave him cutting definition. Shouto was still the tallest of them, a fact that was evidently abundant in the tangle of his limbs around Bakugou. Shouto knew he was still as strong as he'd been before—he had to be to lift patients and equipment safely—but how he used that strength had changed and his muscles had shifted accordingly into a configuration that was more wiry and compact. He was surprised he didn't look more delicate laying in Bakugou's arms.

Why had Midoriya felt so compelled to take that picture? A quick snapshot of his husband sleeping made sense, but there was no part of this photo that was recognizably Bakugou which didn't also have an undeniable piece of Shouto pressed against it. Their faces were nestled one on top of the other and their arms were intertwined like they'd been huddling for warmth.

Maybe Midoriya just really liked Bakugou's sleeping face. That at least made some sort of sense. What Shouto couldn't figure out is why he, himself, was so compelled to save the picture. It had been waiting for him on his phone the next morning above an almost bubbly text:

Good morning Todoroki! You fell asleep last night so I brought you to bed. I hope that's okay. You must have been working hard, I almost never see Kacchan this relaxed. Is it okay that I took a picture? Can I keep it?

Looking at the picture of him and Bakugou asleep together brought an inexplicable sense of peace. There was something…special about it that Shouto couldn't put his finger on.

"Any news?"

Shouto tore his gaze away from his phone and shook his head. Bakugou sat beside him in a kitchen chair pulled right up to the stovetop, glaring into the pot of stew he was currently stirring. "Then put your fucking phone away. You're starting to make me jumpy."

"Sorry." Shouto locked the screen and slid his phone into his left pocket. "What are the next steps?"

Bakugou grumbled and rolled his eyes. "Bring me two bowls, this is almost done."

Shouto reached into the cabinet and handed the bowls to Bakugou one at a time. He watched as Bakugou carefully spooned rice, stew, and a poached egg into each bowl. Shouto was halfway for reaching for a third bowl when he realized that Bakugou had only prepared two eggs, and there wasn't much leftover in the pots on the stove.

Bakugou grunted quietly when he lifted the pots onto cool burners. "I'm not making food for fucking Deku if he's just going to let it go to waste."

It had been almost a week since their sudden departure from the hospital and they had already settled into a routine. The household shared breakfast before Midoriya left for hero patrol, then Shouto and Bakugou split their time between healing, physical therapy, and truly atrocious movies. Shouto would have almost called it companionable except for the growing tension in the evenings. Midoriya often wasn't home until after he and Bakugou had gone to bed.

Midoriya never managed to make it home for dinner, though he often promised he would try. The silent nights were wearing on Bakugou, and his injuries.

"Do you want me to call him?" Shouto offered.

Bakugou shook his head. "Leave him alone. That Wrench bastard needs to be caught."

Shouto set the bowls on the table and turned back to help Bakugou, who was already leaning on the counter and lifting himself out of the chair. "You know you're still a fall risk, right?"

"There's no way I could fall if I tried. There's too much stuff to grab onto," Bakugou grumbled." Bed rest or not he was still strong. At this point Shouto was mostly helping Bakugou manage his balance while he navigated moving with his injury.

Bakugou pushed away from the chair and Shouto supported the movement by placing his arms just under Bakugou's and wrapping them around his rib cage. Bakugou grunted but allowed the assist without complaint. Bakugou slid the chair away from the stove and towards the table, and Shouto tactfully did not point out that a walker, crutches, or some other kind of stabilizing device would be easier.

Once Bakugou was settled Shouto moved to take his seat and breathed the rich aroma of their meal into his lungs. "Thank you for the meal."

Bakugou shrugged. "It was nothing. I'll be faster when I can stand for more than a minute at a time."

Amusement tickled at the back of Shouto's throat. Bakugou had tried to fight him about using a chair—not after the first morning he'd tried to cook alone and had fallen—but he was still stubborn as hell. "What you are doing will help your muscles recover. You'll be standing for most of this in less than a week."

"Yeah?" Bakugou slurped at his broth and wiped his mouth. "I'll do it in three days."

Shouto swallowed the tender cube of meat he'd been chewing. "Bakugou you do not have a regeneration quirk; healing still takes time."

The corner of Bakugou's mouth kicked up and Shouto looked back to his stew. Saying anything else about healing right now would start an argument, not because Bakugou was actually bent on self-destruction, but because he couldn't walk away from a fight. Shouto had no interest in being antagonized, so he took a long drink of his broth, humming in satisfaction when he pulled the bowl away from his lips.

"Good?"

"Very good." Shouto's gaze slipped to Bakugou's expectant face. "You're a skilled cook."

"I worked at it." Bakugou slipped a carrot into his mouth and swallowed. "It's better than having your soba every day. It's good, but it gets boring fast."

"You and Fuyumi should trade recipes during dinner," Shouto suggested. "I supplement what I can cook—"

"Cold soba, more soba, and even more soba?"

Shouto fought not to answer Bakugou's grin with a smile of his own. It would only encourage him. "With what she brings over from time to time."

"You know, since your stuck here for a while, I could teach you a few things about cooking." Bakugou spooned more stew into his mouth. "You need enough help that it'll eat up my free time, but I'm willing to make that sacrifice."

Their eyes locked across the tabled, and Bakugou punctuated his smile/smirk with raised eyebrows. "Are you willing to take on the challenge, Icy Hot?"

Shouto lifted his mug of tea to hide the traitorous curve of his lips. "If you insist."

Bakugou thumped his fist lightly against the table in satisfaction. The spark of excitement in his eyes reminded Shouto a great deal of when they'd trained together in school. "Good. We'll start tomorrow. With western food. You're making pancakes."

Shouto nodded. "Alright."

"Blueberry pancakes."

"Do you have blueberries?"

"We don't need them."

"…We don't need blueberries… for blueberry pancakes?"

"Nah, we have a mix; it's easier."

"I thought you'd be more insistent on making them from scratch," Shouto gestured to the stew they were currently enjoying, which definitely fit that description.

Bakugou looked down at their dinner and shrugged. "When I have the time, sure, but hero," his eyes swept over Shouto, "and healer schedules can be nuts, right? That's no reason to eat crap food. I'm going to show you simple things you can do that don't take much time. If you ever decide to stop being a goddamn workaholic, I'll show you more."

"I'd like that." Bakugou had always been somewhat abrasive, but the years, and probably Midoriya, seemed to have softened the sharpest of his edges.

"Don't sound so fucking surprised, of course you'd like it. You can't live on cold soba forever, and your sister's got her own life."

"She—

"I'm home!"

"Hello, Midoriya. Would you like some dinner?" Shouto started to stand, but Midoriya gestured for him to sit back down.

"Don't get up for me. Eat. You work too hard as it is."

"Says the damn nerd that doesn't bother to come home anymore," Bakugou growled into his stew.

"Aww, Kacchan. Did you miss me?" Midoriya draped himself across Bakugou's shoulders, hugging him from behind and nuzzling into the side of his neck. "I missed you too."

"Get off me; you're all grimy."

"But I missed you!" Midoriya's voice was slightly muffled because he was still pressing his face into Bakugou's neck and shoulder.

"You need a shower."

"I'll take one in a minute." Midoriya peppered Bakugou's neck and cheek with kisses and although Bakugou squirmed, he didn't actually try to push his husband away.

"Dumbass, get your dinner." Bakugou turned his head to look at Midoriya who leaned forward into a kiss like he'd been waiting for the opportunity. Bakugou relaxed into the kiss and, despite his earlier comments, he cupped the side of Midoriya's face with one hand.

"Can I eat with you?" The words were spoken against Bakugou's lips.

"At least wash your hands first." Another short kiss. "If you want eggs we have some hard boiled in the fridge." Midoriya pressed a kiss into Bakugou's forehead as he stood. Bakugou smiled and tracked his movements with his eyes until Midoriya was seated beside them with his own bowl of stew.

Despite Bakugou's earlier protests, there was just enough stew for Midoriya to have full bowl. There wouldn't be any leftovers, but Shouto suspected that, despite his anger, Bakugou hadn't been able to help himself. He'd even made hardboiled eggs so Midoriya could have an egg that wouldn't be cold and congealed no matter when he came home.

"How was your day?" Midoriya asked. He looked between both of them and Shouto knew from his experience over the past several weeks that he expected an answer from himself as well as Bakugou despite the fact that their answers would be almost identical.

"Before or after you came home and decided to throw yourself at me."

"Kacchan, I gave you a hug and a few kisses. That's hardly indecent."

"I dunno," Bakugou's gaze slid to Shouto. "One of these days Todoroki's going to get tired of our bullshit."

"You haven't had much time together. It makes sense to make the most of the time you do have." Shouto kept expecting Bakugou and Midoriy's easy affection to hurt, but the ache he felt never matched up to his expectations. Every grasped hand and sliding caress highlighted a corresponding emptiness that Shouto felt keenly. But beyond that there was something more. Something soft and warm that bubbled up inside him and soothed the rough edges of his soulmate bond whenever Midoriya and Bakugou were affectionate. Midoriya was so clearly happy that Shouto must be happy for him, even if it stung.

The curve of Bakugou's smile turned wicked. "I wonder if you'd act so calm and cool if we fucked on the table."

"Kacchan! Behave!"

Shouto watched Bakugou's low chuckle and Midoriya's answering fond if beleaguered smile. He knew that Midoriya and he would never have shared the kind of bond Midoriya had with Bakugou, and Shouto wouldn't want to deprive Midoriya of something so precious.

"Don't lie, nerd." Bakugou's grin flashed his teeth, and his voice dropped several gravely octaves. "You don't really want me to behave, do you?"

A blush lit up Midoriya's freckles from the inside out. "K-Kacchan!"

Bakugou trailed his fingers across Midoriya's wrist until they were holding hands.

"Eat your dinner, dumbass."

Warmth mingled with a soft ache bloomed in Shouto's chest. Midoriya and Bakugou were beautiful together. Every moment he witnessed wasn't meant for him, but Shouto was still grateful to see it. Shouto decided his must be more of a masochist than he originally thought.

Dinner passed quickly, and much more peacefully than Shouto was used to considering his own experience of family dinners. By the time he'd set his and Bakugou's clean utensils and bowls back on the counter Midoriya was stepping up to the sink with his own bowl and chopsticks. Their fingers brushed as Shouto reached for the bowl. "I can get that. Go have your bath. It's been a long day."

Midoriya's kind green eyes landed on his. "Are you sure?"

"Go take a bath, Deku. You stink."

Midoriya frowned worriedly at Bakugou and started to open his mouth when Shouto interjected. "We've both had our baths already."

"Really?"

Shouto nodded. Bakugou was often very tired after dinner—he worked hard at his physical therapy exercises and his evening meds often made him drowsy—so they had decided it made more sense to bathe before dinner. That way if Bakugou was struggling to stay awake, Shouto could situate him in bed before cleaning up, and give him his final healing treatment for the day before Shouto himself went to bed. It had only been routine for a few days, but it worked.

A relieved smile slid across Midoriya's face. "Thank you. It's been a long day."

"Workaholic," Bakugou called out.

Midoriya stopped a pressed a kiss to Bakugou's temple before he disappeared down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Shouto finished the dishes, set the dishwasher to run, stepped up to Bakugou's chair. "Ready?"

"Tch. You don't have to make it such a fucking production."

Bakugou lifted his left arm and Shouto crouched under it, wrapping his arms around Bakugou's ribs. Bakugou used his right arm to steady himself as he straightened. It was a slow, shuffling process to make it to the bedroom, and despite his nonchalance, Bakugou leaned heavily on Shouto for balance.

"How's your pain?"

"I'm fine!"

"Answer what I asked or I'm going to drop you."

"Were you always this sassy Icy Hot?

Shouto stopped walking and stared at Bakugou until he felt the blondes ribs expand on a silent sigh.

"It's a six at the moment, but it was a four point five at the table."

Shouto nodded. "You're due for a healing, so that sounds about right."

Bakugou lifted his eyebrows as they started shuffling forward again. "You want me in this much pain?"

"Don't be a brat. You're about where you should be in your recovery process and you know that!"

They were at the side of the massive bed now, and they shuffled until they were face to face, almost embracing. Shouto slipped his arms just underneath Bakugou and held him tightly, ready to brace him as he sat so that he wouldn't fall.

Bakugou's breath caressed the side of Shouto's ear as he spoke. "Why should I behave when you fluster so easily?"

Shouto felt heat creeping across the back of his neck as Bakugou sank down onto the bed, the bend of his knees forcing Shouto's legs apart. It wasn't an unusual position; Shouto had assisted in lifting patients like this for years. He had no doubt that Bakugou had deliberately timed his comment for maximum impact, but that didn't stop the heat under his skin as he pulled away.

Bakugou grinned up at him. "You know I used to think you couldn't blush? I thought your quirk would get in the way, or help you hide it."

"I've never used my quirk that way." Shouto tried to focus on his breathing, drawing air into his lungs and feeling them expand his chest and abdomen.

"No, you're wound more tightly than that." Bakugou's grin widened. "Looks like Deku isn't the only one that can get under your skin."

Shouto blinked. "What does this have to do with Midoriya?"

Bakugou shrugged and leaned back into the pillows. He was able to lift his legs into the bed without assistance. "Deku's the only other person I've ever seen make you blush."

He wasn't wrong, but Shouto couldn't think of any appropriate response. Honestly the best response was probably no response. Bakugou liked riling people up in general, and Shouto should have known better than to rise to the challenge.

Shouto reached for the blankets, and started to lift them up.

"Agh!"

Bakugou jerked up at the sudden sound and Shouto dropped the sheets to press both hands against Bakugou's shoulders to prevent him from jumping out of bed.

"Deku?"

"Midoriya, are you alright?"

"Fine! I'm—ngh—I'm okay. Just tweaked my back a little."

Bakugou and Shouto turned to each other.

"I'll go get him," Shouto murmured.

Bakugou nodded. "Thanks."

The hallway was dim, lit only from the glow of the bedroom. Midoriya must have turned out the lights in the kitchen.

"Where are you, Midoriya?"

The voice that answered him was tremulous. "In the—ungh—living room. I'm really fine."

The gloom in the living room was even deeper than the hallway, but Shouto could still see a dark shape hunched by the sofa.

"This is so stupid," Midoriya muttered.

Shouto crouched beside him. "What happened?"

Midoriya either couldn't or wouldn't turn his head to look at Shouto. "I was just bending over to get my towel… I dropped it after I turned out the lights. Ah!" Midoriya twitched as if he was trying to curl in on himself, but couldn't quite manage it.

Shouto could just barely make out the tense line of Midoriya's jaw. He reached out, hand hovering in the darkness. "Can I touch you?" Shouto asked.

"Yeah…"

Shouto's fingers brushed across the warm smooth skin of Midoriya's back. Was he even wearing any clothes?

Stop thinking about that. It doesn't matter. Focus.

Shouto closed his eyes and concentrated. "It feels like a muscle spasm." Already tight muscles rippled under Shouto's palm.

"Hngh!"

Shouto inched closer; he could feel the heat of Midoriya's body now. "Try to breathe," he murmured, "the more you can relax the better."

Staccato breath danced into Midoriya's lungs. "I-ah! I didn't even do anything!" Midoriya hissed.

"You've been over-working yourself since Wrench's attack." Shouto moved his hand in slow circles across Midoriya's back, and slid his other hand down Midoriya's shoulder to his wrist. "Let me help you to bed? I think my heat quirk might help, but you'll be more comfortable lying down."

"B-bed sounds good." Midoriya found Shouto's hand in the darkness and gripped it tightly. "I'm not sure I can move though."

"I can carry you, but there's not much I can do to make that more comfortable."

"Maybe just help me stand, first? I…I think I can walk if I can straighten out."

"The hell is going on out there?! Did you dumbasses get lost?"

"Midoriya strained his back," Shouto called down the hallway. "It's not bad, just painful. I'm going to help him get to bed."

"Deku, if you're trying to steal my thunder you need a hell of a lot better story than, 'I strained my back because I don't know when to take a break!'"

"Fu-fuck you, Kacchan!"

"If you think you can manage it with your fucked up back, I'm game."

Shouto positioned his arms around Midoriya. "Stop sniping at your husband and take a deep breath."

Midoriya listened, and the instant Shouto felt his diaphragm stop expanding he stood, pulling the shaking hero in his arms up with him.

"Fuck!" Midoriya's hand curled tightly in the fabric of Shouto's scrubs.

"I've got you," Shouto murmured, "I won't let you fall."

By degrees Midoriya's breathing returned and started to even out. "I didn't even do anything," Midoriya repeated.

"Strains like this are the result of overuse combined with poor posture and—"

"There's nothing wrong with my posture!"

"Were you really thinking about lifting techniques when you were trying to get your towel? Or where you thinking about sleeping?

Midoriya grumbled, half pressing his face against Shouto's collar bone.

"Still think you can walk?" Shouto asked.

Midoriya's fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm against Shouto's chest. "I'll do my best."

Shouto tightened his arms around Midoriya and half braced half carried him back towards the bedroom. Bakugou leaned across the expanse of soft sheets to reach for his husband the instant Shouto set Midoriya down.

"Needed a change of pace from breaking your arms?"

"Fuck you," Midoriya repeated, but this time without the tight snap of pain in his voice. Shouto could tell from the tension in Midoriya's muscles that he still hurt, but not as acutely as he had while trying to get his feet under him in the living room. He could also now clearly see that Midoriya was wearing nothing but red cotton boxers.

"Promises, promises," Bakugou replied, twining his fingers through Midoriya's.

"Don't strain your side like that," Midoriya chastised. "Lay back."

"It's fine."

Shouto sat back on his heels and regarded the men in front of him. His hand was still resting lightly against Midoriya's lower back, just above his hip. "You could both use healing. Who should I—"

"Work on Kacchan. I'll be fine."

"Deku, don't—"

"Really, Kacchan. I just need to rest, right? I can do that by laying here."

"Would you really be able to sleep, Deku? I've pulled muscles in my back before; I know how much that shit sucks."

"Kacchan I'm—"

Bakugou looked past Midoriya to Shouto. "Heal us both."

Midoriya started, then flinched. "W-what?"

Shouto peered at the bed. "You mean?"

Bakugou heaved himself back into his original position. "There's enough room between us, right? You can lay here," he gestured at the bedsheets, "and reach both of us. Hell, sleep here for all I care. It doesn't matter as long as the job gets done, right?"

It wouldn't be the first time Shouto had slept with Bakugou in this bed, but that had been an accident. Deliberately sharing space like this with his soulmate and his soulmate's husband… That would be different.

Shouto's eyes flicked up to Midoriya's. "I don't want to make Bakugou wait longer than I have to, but I'd also prefer to get heat on your back sooner rather than later. Would this be alright?"

Midoriya nodded without hesitation. "Odd beginning for a sleepover, but sure." He glanced at Bakugou, who rolled his eyes, then looked back at Shouto. "What do you think, Todoroki?" His mirthful expression fell into something more serious. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Uncomfortable. That ship sailed when he'd had to perform lifesaving surgery on Bakugou; even more so when he had moved in with said Bakugou and Midoriya. Being so involved in their domestic routine was an odd sort of torturous release. A taste, an image of what he'd wanted for years, but not something Shouto could keep. "I want to help you, and you'll both be more relaxed laying down."

"That's not the question he asked you, dumbass."

Shouto's gaze shifted to narrowed red slits. "I don't have a problem laying between you and healing you both." His gaze drifted back to warm green irises. "I want to help; I don't mind."

It might be the only chance I get to hold you, and I'm weak enough to take it.

"Okay."

"Get in here then!" Bakugou patted the blankets between himself and Midoriya.

Shouto stood and crawled into the empty space with deliberate care, easing himself into the warm gap between their bodies.

"What are you being so goddamn slow for?" Bakugou grumbled.

Shouto stopped moving and regarded Bakugou silently.

"What? Did I fucking offend you?" The sharp glint of Bakugou's teeth in the dim light told Shouto all he needed to know.

"What is your pain level?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "You fucking love that question, don't you?"

The heat of Midoriya's body pressed close to the back of Shouto's neck. "Kacchan?"

"…Seven…point five."

"You moved around a lot today. That's good for rebuilding muscles, but it's going to make you sore. Add that to all the flailing around you've been doing instead of resting, and we're pushing the limit of how much movement is helpful. I'm trying not to aggravate your injuries." Shouto's gaze flicked to Midoriya and the tight lines of pain around his eyes. "Either of your injuries."

Bakugou blew out an irritated huff of air. "Fine. Just get over here."

Shouto turned and sat, looking first at Bakugou and then Midoriya.

"Oh my God, are you waiting for another fucking invitation."

"I'm thinking about which positions would be most comfortable."

"It's not rocket science, Icy Hot. Lay down." Bakugou wrapped an arm around Shouto's shoulders and pulled him back until Shouto's head was pillowed on his bicep.

"Kacchan—"

"No," Shouto interrupted. "This works. It opens up Bakugou's side and makes it easy for me to reach his wound." Shouto traced the edge of this evening's bandages, applied freshly after Bakugou's bath. "Your arm is going to fall asleep."

"You're not that heavy. By the time I wanna move we'll all be asleep. Just make sure you stop healing before you fall asleep. We don't need you draining yourself dry."

"I'll be careful," Shouto promised. He turned to look at Midoriya, who was smiling fondly at Bakugou. "I need to have access to your back. Are you alright laying on me?"

Midoriya nodded. "Just let me turn the light off first. Ah!"

"Careful, Nerd."

"It hurts to move, Kacchan! I am being careful!" Midoriya switched off the bedside lamp and, with a series of pained grunts, arranged himself so that he was cuddled against Shouto's side, head nestled against Shouto's chest.

Shouto wrapped his left arm around Midoriya, fighting the thunderclap of guilt that raced through his gut. He had a job to do, and he was going to focus. Shouto pressed his hand into the spasming muscles of Midoriya's back. "Just try to breathe."

"Okay."

Shouto's fingers traced a slow path down the length of Midoriya's spine. He stopped just above the edge of Midoriya's boxers and started a slow slide back up. "How is that?"

The breath of Midoriya's sigh danced across Shouto's collarbone. "Better."

"Leaving me out?" Bakugou's breath was hot against Shouto's ear, tickling the hairs across the back of his neck.

Shouto activated his right hand and turned his head in time to witness sharp crimson eyes drift shut. He didn't need to ask Bakugou if he was helping; he knew the signs by now. It was fascinating and gratifying to watch the sharp edges drop away from Bakugou's expression. Something a lot like pride hummed deep in Shouto's chest.

The darkened room was filled with the sounds of quiet breathing for several minutes. Shouto almost thought his companions were asleep until Bakugou's abdominal muscles pulsed against his hand. Shouto's head snapped up. "Are you alright?"

Bakugou nodded; he was hiding a smile behind a curled fist. "I just realized."

"Realized what?"

"You're our own personal Icy Hot!" Bakugou snickered.

Midoriya groaned. "Mmmh, Kacchan…." His voice was very breathy. "Loud…"

Bakugou reached across Shouto and caressed Midoriya's head, disturbing disordered tufts of hair with his fingers. "Sorry, 'Zuku. Go back to sleep."

Midoriya hummed and pushed back against Bakugou's hand before relaxing into Shouto's shoulder, still humming softly.

Bakugou's voice was a barely audible whisper in Shouto's ear. "It's almost like he's purring, isn't it?"

Shouto nodded; he could feel the vibrations from Midoriya's chest and throat reverberating along his body.

"You do the same thing."

"Wha—"

Bakugou's fingers were quick, jumping from Midoriya's hair to Shouto's lips in a flash. "Not so loud. He's barely asleep."

"What do you mean I do the same thing?" Shouto's lips mumbled around the words, half squished by Bakugou's determined fingers. He must have been sufficiently quiet, because the fingers retreated.

"When you fell asleep against me a few days ago I tried to wake you up and you butted against my hand the same way."

"…sorry?"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed. "It would have been a lot cuter if you weren't overworking yourself."

Shouto blinked, unsure how to unpack that. "What?"

"You and Izuku never know when to stop. Its unhealthy, and it's driving me crazy. At least Deku stopped breaking his fucking bones."

"Are you…" Shouto blinked. "Mad at me?"

Bakugou's voice was still quiet, but gravely. "I'm angry for you. What kind of shit life have you got going on, Todoroki? You've been here, what, a week now? No one upends their life so easily unless it wasn't much of a life to begin with."

Shouto was used to lectures from Aia-san, but Bakugou's ire felt heavier, rougher. Midoriya mumbled something and cuddled closer, trapping Shouto's legs by lifting his own over them.

They fell into silence for a few minutes, focusing joint attention on Midoriya's hair and back until the number one hero was purring beside them again.

"Well? What have you got to say for yourself?" The words rumbled across Shouto's eardrums, low and vaguely threatening. He turned his head and found himself almost nose to nose with Bakugou. "You're not even going to admit I'm right?" The angry blonde was not going to back down.

Shouto took a breath and spoke to the only truth he was comfortable mentioning. "I think your worried about Midoriya. You're angry at him for working so hard, and you're taking it out on me."

Bakugou's brow furrowed. "Maybe." His arm brushed Shouto's chest; he was probably continuing to pet Midoriya's hair. Bakugou even looked past Shouto for a moment before returning his intense red gaze to Shouto's face. "I like having his back, and he is going to call out sick tomorrow, but—stop smiling, nerd—that's not all of it."

"I wasn't smiling?"

"Yes you were, a Todoroki smile. Stop trying to distract me. The point is," Bakugou lifted his hand to point first at Midoriya, then at Shouto. "He's got me; you're alone."

"My sister, my mother, my brother are all there to support me. We might not see each other as often as you and Inko-san, but we're each very dedicated to our jobs."

Bakugou leaned forward and the tips of their noses brushed. "When was the last time you did anything besides your job?"

Shouto had to remind himself they were supposed to be whispering. "What does it matter?"

They stared at each other in the darkness for a long time before Bakugou spoke again. "That is the saddest thing of all."

Bakugou turned to stare at the ceiling. Shouto stared after him, still other than the hand moving in a soothing rhythm across Midoriya's spine. The skin under his fingers was fever hot now, but the muscles twitched ominously. Shouto flexed his stiff fingers across Bakugou's injury. The swelling from use and aggravation had subsided. If he could get Bakugou to use his goddamn cane he'd be able to walk independently. Both of his patients were in good condition. Another five minutes and he would ease off his quirk.

Shouto started to count his breath to keep time. One, two, three… was that a snore? Midoriya nuzzled against Shouto's collarbone and smacked his lips. Midoriya's breath ended in a distinctive rumble. He was snoring…softly. God that was cute. Did Bakugou snore too?

"That's enough, Icy Hot." Bakugou's large hand slid over Shouto's narrower one. "Turn off your quirk before you fall asleep. I'm good."

Shit, he was supposed to be counting his breathing. Since when was he so easily distracted? Shouto concentrated on the skin under his fingers and found, unsurprisingly, that Bakugou was right. Both he and Midoriya were at good places in their healing to stop for the night. One breath, two, and release.

"God you are so stubborn." Bakugou lifted Shouto's hand and started massaging it between his fingers. "Can you get frostbite from your own quirk? Your joints are fucking stiff after you finish a healing."

Warmth seeped from Bakugou's calloused fingers into Shouto's hand. He flexed his other hand against Midoriya's back, letting it settle in the dip of his spine. "I can get frostbitten…and burned if I'm not concentrating. I'm not impervious."

Bakugou's thumb rubbed across Shouto's wrist and Shouto's hand twitched in his firm grasp. "I get it now."

"Hmm?" Shouto picked his head up slightly off the pillows. If he didn't concentrate, he'd be asleep in moments.

"You wanna know what I think?" Bakugou brushed his fingers across the burn that obliterated Shouto's soulmate mark. "I think someone broke your heart and instead of getting over it you locked yourself away where no one can find you."

Shouto's fingers closed reflexively around Bakugou's palm. He hadn't expected Bakugou of all people to see through him so clearly, but now that it was happening he wasn't surprised. Bakugou was brash, but he didn't miss much.

"Settle down, I'm not going to ask you for names. It's not really my business anyway." Bakugou's fingers twined with Shouto's, obviously trying to work more warmth into them. "I'm just saying that you don't have to fucking suffer unless you want to, Todoroki."

Aia-san wanted him to get a life, Fuyumi wanted him to fall in love, his mother wanted him to be happy, and now even Bakugou was offering life advice. They had a point. Shouto had pursued this new facet of his career without any intention of slowing down or stopping. It was bad enough carrying his broken heart around with him; Shouto didn't want to have to sit with it in silence.

"Don't overthink too much tonight," Bakugou mumbled. "You'll keep yourself awake." He settled their joined hands over the blankets across his thigh. "Get some rest, Icy Hot."

It was almost time. Bakugou's growing independence meant Shouto's stolen moments here were ending. He'd have to start including other things in his life now, things other than work. If nothing else, he could spare himself some lectures and meaningful looks.

A nudge from Bakugou's shoulder rocked him. "Sleep, Nerd. You're thinking is keeping me up."

Shouto could just barely make out Bakugou's face in the dim light. He was blinking slowly, squinting like a contented cat. "Goodnight, Bakugou."

"G'night…"

Shouto let his eyes drift shut. He could feel how limp and relaxed Midoriya was against him. Even Bakugou seemed at peace. Shouto would have thought he'd feel jealous, upset, or otherwise uneasy. But he felt comforted. His soulmate was sleeping in his arms for the first and probably last time, and his soulmate's husband was, in his own way, worried about Shouto's happiness. The only pang Shouto felt was when he remembered that this situation was temporary. He wanted to stay here, but everything was riding on borrowed time. Bakugou was a (mostly) model patient who recovered a bit more every day. It wouldn't be long now…

Sleep wrapped dark fingers around Shouto and pulled him deep into oblivion. His last conscious thoughts were gratitude for the feeling of Midoriya laying against him and of Bakugou holding his hand…

Congratulations! We're about halfway through! I say about because these three would not leave me alone until I wrote some follow up one-shots that take place after the official ending of Marks on My Heart.

There will be four one-shots total; I'm working on the third one currently. Yes, I will link all four one-shots to this larger story as a series, and no you won't have to read this story to understand and appreciate the one-shots…but, I mean you're already here so I hope that means you're enjoying yourself.

As always I'll see you next Friday afternoon/evening PST for the next update! I hope you have a great week! ^_^