"Well, that was interesting," Midoriya said, as soon as Kirishima and Bakugou had left.
Todoroki nodded and, a little reluctantly, picked up the knife to resume chopping vegetables.
"I like Kirishima," Midoriya went on, speaking a little loudly over the sound of his knife. "I'm glad he's here."
There was a point to this conversation, Todoroki knew. He didn't know what it was yet, and maybe Midoriya didn't know either, but he would talk his way there; Todoroki had learned that about him. Todoroki himself thought his words through very carefully, coming to conclusions on his own, but Midoriya needed someone else to help him parse his thoughts.
So Todoroki said nothing, just made a little hum of acknowledgement, and Midoriya went on. "It's so interesting, learning about selkies. I find myself very fascinated by everything Kirishima says about them. And to think that he's just as ignorant about humans – it's almost unbelievable to me that two species can live side by side for so long without knowing much about the other at all."
Todoroki nodded and watched Midoriya out of the corner of his eye, noticing he'd gotten distracted again and had set down his knife. Todoroki, only too happy for a chance to pause the chore as well, copied him.
"Of course," Midoriya went on, "Kirishima did know some things about humans, but I didn't know selkies even existed." He paused, hand rubbing his chin idly. "Because they live by the ocean. All selkies live by the ocean."
"All selkies except Kirishima," Todoroki said, beginning to see where this might be headed.
"But for how long?" Midoriya turned to face him. "When do you think Kirishima will go back to the ocean? And what will we do when he does?"
When, not if. Todoroki had known their time together was limited, but he tried not to think about it. He was actually enjoying himself; he didn't want this to end, didn't want their group of four to get any smaller. "You want to stay in the village," he said, "in case there are more survivors." There was a hint of an unspoken question there: Right?
"Yes," Midoriya said, slowly, unsure himself. "Yes, but." He paused, thinking, one finger tracing up and down the hilt of the knife. "But I can't do this forever. I can't live here forever."
"No?"
"No." Midoriya shook his head. "I can't live here, surrounded by all these empty, burned-out houses, because I can't help but think of how things used to be. I need more, I need to be surrounded by people again, I need…" With a shock Todoroki realized Midoriya was beginning to cry. He had to resist the urge to step forward and comfort him. "There's no point to me living here if no one else comes back. I don't know where I can go, what I can do – Bakugou has Kirishima and they can go back to the ocean whenever they want, but I don't have anyone or anywhere –"
Giving in to the impulse at last, Todoroki stepped forward and put his arms around him. Midoriya hadn't been expecting it, and tensed for a moment, then relaxed, exhaling slowly. "I'm fine," he murmured, somewhere in the vicinity of Todoroki's collarbone. "Really, I'm fine, you don't have to do this."
"I want to help you." It didn't quite come out as affectionate as he'd wanted – Todoroki always felt his voice was flat and monotone, no matter what he did to try and fix it – but at least he'd finally said aloud what he'd been thinking this whole time. Midoriya put his arms around him and rubbed his back, and Todoroki honestly wasn't sure who was comforting whom. It was nice, though, to be next to him, close to him. Unsure of how long a hug was socially acceptable, Todoroki stepped away after only a moment.
"You do help me," Midoriya said, blinking tears away, once they stood apart again. "You help me by being here."
"Good."
"I know it's only temporary. I've known from the beginning. You never pretended you'd be here forever," Midoriya went on. "And I know the others won't be here forever, either. When everyone's gone, I'll leave too. I don't know what I'll do, but I don't think I can stay here much longer, and I certainly can't stay here alone."
Todoroki wished the subject of his own departure had not been brought up. He was in a very different situation from Midoriya, of course, but it wasn't as if he was eager to leave; he was lonely too, and he did not look forward to more solitary traveling. Yet he didn't want to make any promises, not now, not when he didn't know how safe he was. He wrinkled his brow, thinking, and Midoriya watched him wordlessly, apparently content to wait for his reply.
"I told you what I'm running from," Todoroki said at last. "So you know the danger I'm put in, if I stay in any one place for too long."
Midoriya nodded.
"But still, I'm in no hurry to leave," Todoroki said. He met the other boy's eyes, wanting him to realize how much he meant these words. "You're right that it won't be forever, but I'll stay as long as I feel I can without putting you in danger or risking my freedom. I'll stay until I have to go."
Apparently that was the right thing to say, because Midoriya's face broke into a wide grin, and he took a step towards Todoroki in a way that seemed involuntarily. "Thank you," he said, and it almost looked like he was going to cry again, this time with joy. "That means –" He paused and cleared his throat. "Todoroki, if you feel you need to leave, let me know. I'll come with you."
Todoroki blinked, surprised. "You would leave your village? Bakugou and Kirishima?"
"I already told you that I want to leave this place someday," Midoriya said, his tone serious now. "If you left I don't think I could bear to stay any longer. And the others, well – I know Bakugou well enough to understand that the more I try to make him do anything, the more he'll do the opposite. He'll take off the second he realizes how much I want him to stay, and even Kirishima wouldn't be able to keep him here." Todoroki felt it difficult to continue to meet Midoriya's gaze, the intensity in his expression was so strong. "In a way you're the only thing I have that I can rely on. I would follow you even if it meant leaving everything else."
It was startling, the effect those words had on Todoroki. They were exciting, and his heart beat faster because of it; but they also carried a weight, which he could almost physically feel settle on his chest and shoulders. He wanted badly to be with Midoriya even beyond the confines of the burned-out village, but doing so would make him responsible for both of them, not only himself. Wasn't this kind of responsibility part of why he'd left?
No, he told himself. No, this was a responsibility he was taking on himself, of his own free will. It was the responsibility of looking after someone he cared about and ensuring their well-being – not too different from the responsibility everyone carried at some point in their lives.
"I'll tell you when it happens, then," he said. Midoriya shot him a small, almost bashful smile, and they picked up their knives and continued making dinner.
xxxxxx
xxxxxx
After what had happened at the river, it hardly seemed possible for Kirishima to go through the rest of his day like it was any other. He felt light on his feet; everything made him laugh and grin. But he knew he couldn't spend the rest of the day (or week, or year) in a giddy haze, lying side by side with Bakugou, even if there was nothing he would rather do.
Eventually the two of them split apart and sat up. Kirishima thought he might have dozed off for a bit, although he wasn't sure: the sun was lower than he'd expected it to be, but time might have simply flown. Bakugou, for his part, was trying valiantly to keep a calm, stoic face, but whenever their eyes met he looked away first, blushing pink.
"Dinner will probably be ready soon," Kirishima said, the first words they'd spoken to each other in a long time, an hour at least. "You're probably hungry. Should we head back?"
"I –" Bakugou met his gaze, blinked, looked down. He's still embarrassed, Kirishima thought. He wondered if it would ever pass, although to be completely honest he was beginning to grow fond of it. "Yeah," Bakugou said at last. "Sure."
Once they got back to Midoriya's house, the four of them ate in near total silence, although the others seemed to be in good moods – particularly Midoriya, who shot Kirishima a sly smile when Bakugou wasn't looking. Apparently Kirishima hadn't been at all subtle with his questions to them earlier. He hoped Midoriya would never give Bakugou any reason to suspect he knew, or Bakugou would never show his face again.
They were all quiet after dinner too. Midoriya and Todoroki kept exchanging glances; Kirishima got the feeling they wanted to discuss something private. So he stood and stretched, smiling, and said, "Thank you for the meal. It was delicious, as always."
"Anytime!" Midoriya said, beaming.
When Kirishima moved to get up, Bakugou did too, of course. Kirishima could now see things in a different light: he had never been sure how much Bakugou actually enjoyed his company and how much he just preferred it to being alone or being with the others, but after what had happened earlier that afternoon, Kirishima could say that Bakugou certainly did like him. And that felt good.
"We'll need more firewood tomorrow," Bakugou said, when they were back inside their own house. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and it was chilly, though still warmer in their house than outside. "The others are almost out too."
Kirishima nodded. There had been a large pile of firewood, apparently communal, left over from the others in the village. Midoriya had moved most of it into his own house for his convenience, but it was finally running out. "You can show me how to chop wood tomorrow."
"Sure." Bakugou knelt down to start the fire. "I think we might have just enough to last the night. Could be close, though." He shivered, as if even the thought of running out made him colder.
An idea occurred to Kirishima all of a sudden. His gaze flicked around the room, calculating, measuring; after a moment's hesitation, he spoke. "There's something else we could do to stay warm."
Bakugou turned bright red and narrowed his eyes. Kirishima thought he might have been trying not to laugh. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, you know." Kirishima grinned. He was able to laugh at himself, at least. Maybe someday he'd master the very human art of hints and innuendos. "We can share the bed, if you want."
"I thought you said before…" Bakugou looked between Kirishima and the bed, maybe trying to decide whether he was being teased. "You said before that you'd rather sleep on the floor."
"I changed my mind." Kirishima sat on the edge of the bed, testing the give with his hands. Yes, it would be better than the floor, provided they could both fit without one of them falling out. "Do you remember the night we stayed at the inn?"
"Yeah…"
"It was hard sharing a bed with you then," Kirishima said, thinking back. It seemed ages ago now, although it had been only a few weeks. "It was hard being so close to you, wanting so badly to touch you and holding myself back. Hiding how I felt, hiding how much I wanted you…"
Bakugou was looking at him now in a way that Kirishima had never been looked at before. His pupils were so dilated they swallowed the iris; his gaze was direct, focused, and much more confident than it had been earlier that day at the river.
Slowly Bakugou rose from where he'd been kneeling next to the fireplace and made his way over to the bed. He stopped just in front of Kirishima, who could only stare up in wonder and curious expectation. He had no idea what Bakugou might do next, but as long as he knew his affections were welcomed and returned, anything that happened now was fine.
Bakugou closed the space between them and straddled Kirishima's body, knees on the outside of Kirishima's thighs. It was overwhelming and intimate and glorious. Bakugou's chest was at about face level, but he leaned down to rest his forehead against Kirishima's. For a few seconds they stayed like that, breathing each other's air and staring into each other's eyes, when finally Bakugou said: "So touch me then."
Kirishima exhaled sharply and did as he'd been told without hesitation. His hands stroked up and down Bakugou's torso, gentle, questioning, just getting to know the shape of him, the curve of his ribcage and stomach. Bakugou said nothing, but his breath was fast and hot on Kirishima's face and he seemed to arch his body further into the touch.
After a few moments of this Kirishima worked up the courage to slide his hands under Bakugou's shirt. "Is this okay?" he asked, hoping desperately it was, because it wouldn't be any fun to stop now.
"Yeah," Bakugou said, the word coming out as a growl.
Kirishima had never felt anything quite like that skin-on-skin contact before. He could have stayed like that for hours and hours, simply feeling Bakugou's body beneath his hands. He suspected Bakugou would have let him, because his breathing was quick and shallow, but not out of anxiety; Kirishima could tell Bakugou was thrumming with the same excited heat that he himself was.
After a little while of that, Bakugou removed his shirt, and Kirishima could now see and touch. He wanted to memorize everything – the visible muscles in Bakugou's chest, the tan lines on his neck and arms, the hard line of his collarbone. Kirishima had seen it all before in their days by the ocean but to be given permission to study and touch it was something he had never dared to hope for before that day.
Bakugou bent his head down and pressed his lips to Kirishima's, and they kissed again, all the while Kirishima's hands roamed up and down Bakugou's body. It was almost a shame that he could no longer look at what he touched, but this was nice too – he could get used to this. The air was cold, but Bakugou's chest and back and mouth were warm beneath Kirishima's touch. (Even if they weren't – even if they'd been clammy and cold – Kirishima would have been happy to touch them, because they were Bakugou's.)
Suddenly Bakugou pulled away, breathing hard, and slid himself off Kirishima's lap. He threw his shirt back on, took a quick drink of water, and sat down on the bed, no longer touching Kirishima. "Getting sleepy," he said, by way of explanation. Kirishima wasn't sure this was actually true, but he was afraid to protest, knowing that to push Bakugou would only make him pull away.
Still, the ending had been so abrupt it gave him a need to confirm. "Is anything wrong?" he said carefully, trying to keep his tone blank.
"Nah. Nothing wrong."
Kirishima didn't think that was a lie, which came as a great relief. He could hardly imagine anything worse than making Bakugou feel uncomfortable without even realizing it. Whatever was going on inside Bakugou's head at that moment, whatever had caused him to pull away from the kiss and settle in for bed, was not enough to make him upset – and, probably (hopefully) was not even Kirishima's fault to begin with.
Kirishima lay down on the bed too, facing Bakugou, and threw the blankets over them both. He wasn't sure how easily he'd be able to sleep after all that had just happened, but there wasn't any use to staying up if Bakugou wasn't with him.
Not long after, Bakugou shut his eyes, and Kirishima thought he'd fallen asleep. But a few minutes later, Kirishima felt his hand taken and gently held between Bakugou's own.
"This is okay," Bakugou said, his voice a little muffle from sleepiness and the blanket that half covered his face. "Don't… don't be afraid to do this. You can do this anytime."
"Oh," Kirishima said, sliding his free hand over to touch Bakugou's too. "Good. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, weirdo," Bakugou muttered. Then, after a pause: "'Night."
"Goodnight," Kirishima said, glad the fire was behind him – it cast enough light for him to still see Bakugou's face, relaxed and sleepy. He stayed like that for a long time, his hands resting on Bakugou's, watching him, breathing in the scent of him, happy to hold his hand as he fell asleep.
Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter is shorter and that it took longer than normal to update. I honestly don't know where I'm going with this.
If you want to talk about this story/writing in general with me, please feel free to shoot me a message!