The second chapter of this wayward series. Enjoy or don't I guess.
By the way, I'm British so don't come for my non-American language/mannerisms.
Italics is a stress or Bakugo's thoughts.
Bold and italics is the inner voice of the Alpha.
2. Something is afoot
For the next four days, Bakugo's dreams are punctured with mismatched eyes, ice and fire.
He occupies his time to distract himself from his Alpha that rolls his thoughts into a tight spring. He gathers fresh fish from the river, hunts game from the forest. He brushes off Akuma's winter coat, teaches him new tricks and reaffirms how Akuma will pick up a scent from a trail. He harvests the crop from his garden and pays close attention to his healing hand. He thoroughly goes about his training regimen. At daybreak, he rouses himself and scouts the area with Akuma in tow – he travels until he becomes exasperated. He seeks out the red beast, kitchen knife sheathed on his belt.
In his mind, he tells himself he searches for his serrated knife of sterling silver and carbon black. When he returns from his voyage empty handed, his combat boots clink in the night like a reaper. The Alpha in him groans and rocks, scratching at his conscience. This alone causes Bakugo's usual confidence to twist uneasily - his Alpha rarely speaks. It is as quiet as it is veracious – but this time, it forces its way through his thoughts like fingers through a jarred door to expose what lay beneath.
It's really fucking annoying, actually.
He perpetuates the mundanity of living in solitude with his dog as his companion, but Bakugo knows something is amiss. Something is wrong. His Alpha breathes into him, asserting its presence. Both are chasing that floating feeling, the sight of dilating pupils. Bakugo has crushed his Alpha with a mental fist several times over the last few days. A wolf with fur as red as the devil crept up on him in the middle of the night, then blasted both him and his dog with fire and ice to kingdom come. A wolf – not another human being. A powerful animal like that shouldn't just be running around near his bungalow, not without being checked out. He recites a desire to confront the beast, whether violent or passive. He will get his fucking knife back and then he'll figure out what to do from there.
On the fifth day, shit hits the fan.
Bakugo finds a trail of red fur and huge paw prints several kilometres from his bungalow near a river. The sun hangs high in the sky, causing the flowing water to glisten. He folds his arms and emits his famous 'che', before turning to Akuma, jabbing his thumb at the evidence.
"Akuma, do the thing."
The dog barks and slams his nose to the soil, breathing the scent deep into his lungs. The German Shepard sniffs three, four, five times before trotting into thick foliage. Bakugo follows, keeping his injured palm to his chest and brushing leaves bigger than his body from view. His backpack jerks with his movements and he silently thinks he'll burn the damn thing when they get back to camp. The pair move through thick nestles of leaves, before breaching what appeared to be an area of burnt boscage. Ashen leaves and scrubs litter the ground, charred branches dangling from trees.
Bakugo scans the area before sniffing the air. He can smell it. He closes his eyes and breathes in – he can smell lush pine and fire all at once. It smells really good. He bends to pick a charred branch from the floor and sniffs it. No pungent smoke - whatever happened here happened at least 48 hours ago. He discards the twig and straightens, eyes wandering left and right, searching. In this moment he feels like a predator searching for a kill.
He watches as Akuma trots to a vacant spot untouched by fire and ash. Walking over, Bakugo narrows his eyes when he discovers there is red fur everywhere – a lot of red fur. He plucks the red fuzz from the ground and is surprised by the softness. Absently, he wonders if this is what Kirishima's hair feels like. He presses the fur to his nose, blond brows disappearing into his hairline from shock.
It smells like a beach. The fuck?
Bakugo examines the red pelt on the floor, shifting through it with his fingers. His heart beat quickens, anxiety bubbling in his gut. Why is there so much red fur here? The prospect of potentially killing one of Akuma's more powerful relatives makes him uneasy. His Alpha roars suddenly. Bakugo throws the fur to the ground and straightens, eying the shredded fuzz with mild disgust. What is wrong with me? I'm out here fawning over the smell of some fucking wolf.
Akuma barks and Bakugo pats the dog's giant head, drawing circles on the mutt's forehead with his thumb. "Good boy." The blond removes his backpack and digs in, opening the sandwich bag of treats. He throws a cube of frozen deer meat into Akuma's mouth. The dog snaps it up and licks his nose. When he sneezes as a result of licking his nose too much, Bakugo smirks. "Fucking dumbass."
He checks his phone for the time – 11:02. Pocketing the device, he plucks more fur from the floor and holds it to Akuma's nose. The mutt sniffs the fuzz deeply, ears folding back. Akuma makes a noise at the back of his throat, before turning and trotting further into the foliage. Bakugo follows, swatting wasps and other insects away with his hand. They continue like this for a while, stopping at different checkpoints and Akuma sniffing at the fur to reinforce the scent. When they clear the vegetation, Bakugo is surprised to see that the land is almost barren. There are no trees for as far as the eye can see. Mountains with an arctic peak stand powerfully in the distance and the sun illuminates the empty meadow with dancing shadows.
The rational part of the hero's mind grumbles at the distance he's travelled from his home and the fear of getting lost, but his Alpha rears its head and crushes his worries. He is more instinct now than he is Bakugo as he surveys the landscape. Where are you, Mr Wolf?
As the pair wander, the smell of copper begins to hang heavy in the air. Bakugo's eyes dart back and forth, surveying the landscape. Both owner and dog walk for several minutes, the owner driven by a deep carnal impulse to find. Bakugo's eyes land on a disfigured lump in the distance. He crosses the expanse seemingly nonchalantly – but as he draws closer, he realises the lump is a human corpse, and his 'nonchalance' dwarfs the panic that blooms in his chest.
He is only aware he is running when his lungs expand under the strain of his exertion. He barrels forward to examine the body. Upon closer inspection, he realises it is a male.
"Fuck! Hello? Hello?" Bakugo pants, crouching as he reaches the body. The male is faced down, naked and ghostly pale. The body lies in a pool of crusted blood, a deep and angry wound on his shoulder. The hero touches the body to turn it over, only to jerk his hand away immediately. Fuck, it's hot. The skin feels so hot, it almost burns to touch it.
Is he alive? Bakugo turns the body quickly to check if the male is breathing but is stunned with an entirely different revelation. His mouth falls open.
It's Todoroki. It's fuckin' half and half.
His red and white hair is caked in mud, dark lashes mottled with dried blood. His face is crusted with blood and a deep, blotchy bruise is imprinted on his temple from where he fell. Bakugo's hero training kicks into overdrive. His mind blocks out half and half's nakedness, pressing his ear to Todoroki's nose. It's very faint, but he feels the dullest puff of warm breath against his ear. The next breath does not come as quickly as he'd like.
Half and half is barely kickin' it. Bakugo stands suddenly, gleaming red eyes never leaving the pulsing wound on Todoroki's shoulder.
"Fuck!" He growls as he shrugs off his backpack. He rips the bag open, tearing his eyes from Todoroki to rummage through the sack. He aggressively discards useless items on the ground.
"Fuck!" He hisses when his injured palm knocks against a sharp point in his bag.
"FUCK!" He shouts. Where is the first-aid box? His mind vaults to the green compartment balancing on his bathroom sink in his bungalow. Of course he didn't fucking pack it. He hadn't expected to find a half dead extra in the barren mountains at the height of spring.
"Okay." He says resolutely. The Alpha in him keens suddenly, breaking his concentration. He outwardly growls but ignores the Alpha completely. He needs to save half and half's life, right here, right now. "Okay. Okay – Akuma!" He commands as he shoves the discarded items back into his bag. The dog barks from a distance as he bounds forward.
"Akuma, take the bag. I'm taking half n' half." Akuma tilts his head at Bakugo as he approaches, a sign of confusion. Bakugo grits his teeth as his irritation rises but holds back a retort. Akuma is a dog. He has to be patient. He has to relax. The blond breathes through his nose to calm his nerves.
He points at his backpack. "Bag." He takes the bag with his uninjured hand, guiding it to Akuma's mouth. "Hold it." Akuma barks and clamps onto the handle of the bag with his teeth, wagging his tale excitedly.
"Yes! Fuckin' yes! Good boy!" Bakugo face spreads into a rare smile. Akuma's tail wags faster.
Bakugo turns to half and half. Bending his knees, he hooks his arms under Todoroki's armpits and lifts him, slinging his arm over his shoulders. The blonde's permanent scowl deepens. Jesus fuck, he's heavy. His sensitive injured palm grips Todoroki's wrists, pulling the unconscious hero over his shoulder. The blonde performs the fireman carry with ease, hoisting Todoroki like a sack of potatoes. His burned palm protests, slick with nitro-glycerine and adrenaline but he easily ignores the pain. Absently, he notices that he cannot smell Todoroki at all. The Alpha in him paces uneasily.
Bakugo turns to his best friend. "Akuma" he commands. The hero steps forward and bends his knees, allowing the dog to sniff his hair. When he stands again, Akuma has straightened his spine. His dog ears point high into the sky and his previously wagging tail now points stiffly in the air, a sign of slick concentration. Bakugo's chest swells with pride. He can trust Akuma - he can depend on him.
"Akuma - home."
At 17:06, Bakugo kicks his front door open with ferocious velocity. His body is slick with sweat, thighs burning from Todoroki's heavy weight. His arms feel numb, his shoulders ache, his burnt palm stings and his body scorches from Todoroki's searing body temperature. Bakugo's body trembles as he enters his bathroom, having carried Todoroki for over six hours non-stop at a disciplined jog with Akuma trotting at a decent pace in front. At first, doubt wormed its way into his gut three hours into their trek – but when he found himself jogging past the trail of malted red fur they had encountered before, relief overcame the doubt, followed by pride.
That fucking dog. Bakugo barely spares Akuma a glance as the German Shepard discards the bag and immediately goes for his dog bowl, lapping up water. How Akuma managed to sniff Bakugo's nitro-glycerine for six hours all the way home, holding onto a bag weighing over three kilograms was almost absurd. The hero files a thought in the back of his mind that he'll cook something up for Akuma in the evening.
He hurries into his bathroom and gently lays Todoroki in the bath. As soon as he lays Todoroki down, he sighs and cracks his neck twice. Fuck, that felt good. Bakugo ignores his aching limbs and grabs a spare towel from a nearby rack, throwing it over Todoroki's crotch, covering his modesty. His mind flies into auto-pilot as his hero training kicks in, performing first aid immediately.
He raises Todoroki's legs and balances them on the rim, encouraging blood flow to his vital organs. The blonde plugs the bathroom sink and turns the ice-cold water on in an attempt to temper Todoroki's rising temperature. The water laps at Todoroki's paper white skin and steams immediately, but he does not move. Bakugo takes a flannel from the rack and dunks it into the icy water, wrenching it and placing it on Todoroki's swelling forehead, which steams immediately.
Aizawa's voice rings in his mind like a recorded machine, memory unfolding into practice. "Keep talking to casualties, even if they are unconscious – this will keep them awake or encourage the brain to react to outward stimuli."
"If you're awake you better start fuckin' talkin' 'cause I'm about to start doing a bunch of shit to err, sort this out, so don't freak out."
Silence.
Anxiety wiggles into Bakugo's gut. His Alpha paces in his conscience, causing his heart rate to increase. Half n' half needs to wake the fuck up soon, or Bakugo has to take him to the nearest hospital – half an hour away by car. "Fuck, fine, whatever. But I'm gonna keep talking."
The blonde leans forward to press his ear against Todoroki's nose and feels a puff of hot air against his lobe. Okay. Good. He pulls a stool from the cupboard to sit on and angrily snatches the first-aid box from his bathroom sink, wrenching it open. He sits as he cleans his hands with antiseptic soap and bandages it. He shuts off the bath water before pulling on latex gloves, spewing whatever nonsense comes to his brain.
"You're heavy as shit, you know. The fuck have you been eating? Horses?" Bakugo rips open a bottle of saline solution with his teeth and pours it onto Todoroki's wounded shoulder until the angry red welt becomes pink, cleaning the wound.
"You must've pigged out over Christmas, hah? You fuckin' fatty." The blond rummages through the box and briefly glances at the anaesthesia.
"If you need to inject anaesthesia because of pain, make sure the dosage matches their height and weight. Don't use it if you're unsure if they've eaten or if you haven't measured the dosage." Aizawa sighs as his tired eyes survey the room. "Anaesthesia relaxes the muscles. If at any point they need to vomit, and you've injected a sedative in their neck, then the airways… well, you don't need to be a genius to know they could choke."
Bakugo looks away from the anaesthesia. "Hey half n' half. This shit is gonna be easy peasy, okay? You ain't gonna feel a damn thing. I'm not gonna put this anaesthesia in you, 'cause…" He glances at Todoroki. "Fuck it. I'm gonna stitch this shit up. It's gonna hurt, but don't be a bitch. If you move, I'll kill you."
Bakugo ignores the sedative and pulls out a curved needle. Grabbing a lighter from the box, he flicks it on and burns the needle. The blond dumps the needle in a cotton ball soaked with alcohol, sterilising it, before threading it with a dissolvable thread. Bakugo sucks in a deep breath as he turns to Todoroki. He closes his eyes and looks within, reaching for his Alpha – for himself. His Alpha finds him and rumbles to life again, reaching for Bakugo and wrapping him in a mental embrace. A quiet confidence fills him now - he takes a breath. He practices mindfulness and becomes aware of his body, of his presence, of his power. His movements become fluid and any shakiness becomes bone still. A calm wash over him and he opens his eyes.
He's fuckin' got this shit.
"Okay shit head. I'm gonna start stitching now."
The blond sets to stitching Todoroki's shoulder, looping the needle through the parted angry flesh and sewing it shut. He is so focused that he does not notice Todoroki's twitching fingers.
Bakugo's heart nearly leaps out his mouth when he hears Todoroki's raspy groan half way through the procedure.
"What the fuck?" Bakugo snaps. Todoroki shakily reaches for the rim of the bath, sloshing water everywhere. The flannel drops from his forehead into the water. Miraculously, the towel covering his crotch remains unmoved. Bakugo presses a gloved hand to his bare chest, pressing him down with surprising force. "What did I just say? Don't fucking move."
Todoroki's teeth chatter as he lays in the bath. His skin is blotchy from his fever temperature, clammy and still searing hot. When he opens his eyes to look at Bakugo, they are plagued with dark circles; his scarred eye flickers with fire and his pupils are disproportionately larger than his irises. Bakugo vaguely registers his Alpha mewling in his consciousness. He feels a faint magnetism as he stares at Todoroki, but files the sensation in the 'deal with this bullshit later' part of his brain.
"Mum?" Todoroki's voice is hoarse and croaky, barely above a whisper. Bakugo's voice booms in comparison.
"Yes, I am your mother, here to serve you tea and shortbread biscuits. No dipshit" Bakugo hisses through gritted teeth. "Listen, you need to keep still because your shoulder isn't going to stitch itself."
Todoroki frowns as his tongue darts over his chapped dry lips. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, visibly shaking. As soon as he closes his eyes, the magnetic feeling dispels. "Wha-" he winces, quivers and begins coughing violently. His tongue is so swollen and sand-paper dry that it chokes off his attempts at conversation.
Bakugo's sighs audibly as he takes the soaked flannel from the bath, wrenches it and slaps it on half and half's forehead again. Todoroki winces, but then sighs from the coolness that soothes his bruised temple. The flannel steams. The blond storms out of the bathroom muttering curses under his breath. As he enters the kitchen, he hears Akuma snoring before he sees him. The dog lays on his back next to his now empty water bowl, legs in the air like grappling looks, snoring so loudly that the plant pots rattle on their stands. Bakugo's bubbling anger dies and his expression softens. This idiotic dog helped save half and half's life – they might not even be here if it weren't for Akuma.
Bakugo takes two large glass from his cabinet and fills both with water, reminding himself to cook something nice for Akuma later. He returns to the bathroom, unceremoniously collapsing on the bathroom stool. When he speaks again, his voice is considerably less loud, slower, detached, as though it is not his own. His tone carries the undercurrent of irritation.
"You have a very high fever. You're fighting a reaction." He pauses. "Or, your cut is infected. Fuck knows. The wound is at risk of becoming fatal if you keep up your bullshit antics." Bakugo is sure Todoroki is unconscious, because his eyes are closed, and his teeth-chattering has stopped. He keeps talking to rouse him. "Or you can just do that. Do you want the water?"
Todoroki barely nods.
So the fucker is awake. "Don't fucking move, then. You'll unravel the sutures."
Bakugo silently leans forward and tilts the cool liquid to half and half's chapped lips. Todoroki's eyes flutter open, before gulping down the entire glass without stopping. When the glass is empty, Todoroki heaves a sigh and sinks lower into the bath. Bakugo sets the glass next to him, before ripping his latex gloves off. He angrily digs into the first-aid box and wrenches another pair on, elbowing the bathroom rim in the process. If Todoroki notices, he doesn't show it. He is not sure if half and half is awake, but he takes his chance and continues threading Todoroki's wound until it is closed. Todoroki is silent and limp throughout the entire process. When Bakugo loops the final stitch through, he cuts the thread and throws the needle in the bin. He sprays the stitch with anti-sceptic spray and waits for it to dry. He reaches for the medical gauze in the first aid box, spraying it with the same anti-sceptic spray.
"Bakugo?" Todroki manages a throaty whisper. He is barely able to move.
Bakugo is surprised that half and half remained compliant and awake throughout the second half of an undoubtedly painful procedure. He doesn't show it. "The cookie monster from Christmas at your service. Seriously, shithead? Yes, it's me. The best fuckin' hero to walk this earth."
When Bakugo turns back to Todoroki, the semi-naked man is pinning him with a groggy, blank stare. He has no idea why his heart rate quickens, or why his Alpha is bashing against his mental cage, or why Todoroki smells of spiky stinging nettles. He has no idea why he looks away to grab the gauze (yeah, only to grab the gauze) or why he knows that Todoroki is trying to hide his embarrassment, but he knows. He can… smell it? Fuck - he has no idea why his Alpha won't shut the fuck up, why the air in the room is making him dizzy, why he wants to make Todoroki comfortable. To be honest, he has no idea what the fuck is going on. It's incredibly unsettling, solitude feels better than confusion.
So Bakugo does what he does best. He wings it – and fucks it up.
He turns back to half and half, staring at the closed wound rather than Todoroki's eyes that make Bakugo feel like they are magnets pulling his blood out of his body. "Can you move?"
Todoroki doesn't even blink. His blank, exhausted-induced stare makes Bakugo shift uncomfortably. Why is he looking at him like that? Half and half's voice is still hoarse, raspy, low. "Maybe."
Bakugo offers him the damp gauze. "Can you wrap your shoulder?"
Todoroki's closes his eyes, finally. "Can try."
Todoroki reaches for the rim of the bath, shaking as he pulls himself forward. He pants from the exertion alone, avoiding Bakugo's gaze. His skin is still sickly pale, but some colour has returned to his face. The scent of stinging nettles worsens, reminding Bakugo of jagged spikey plants that scream do not come close. Todoroki shakily lifts the flannel from his face, dumping it in the water. He removes his legs from the rim of the bath, careful not to let his modesty show. His scarred eye still dances with faint flames. He turns his face from Bakugo.
He is ashamed. Comfort him.
Now you talk? Fuck off.
Bakugo doesn't know why his Alpha speaks, for the first time, in over five years. The internal monologue irritates him - his scowl deepens. He realises his folly and how it looks, so he tries to back-pedal, attempting to hide this irritation behind a blank mask. He fails - Todoroki notices. He notices everything.
"Sorry." Todoroki croaks as he sits upright now, panting, shaking, weak. Steam rises from his body as glances at Bakugo, clutching the side of the bath. Todoroki tries to form full sentences, but his mouth still feels like dried timbre and he's so exhausted he settles for one-syllable phrases. "Tired."
Bakugo is so taken aback by the apology that he actually looks half n' half in the eye. His stomach backflips, his mind floats. The magnetism from earlier returns, heavier. He feels as though he is wading through water, taken away by the current. His eyes widen as his chest blooms with a sudden warmth, but his fingers feel cold and icy. What the fuck is going on? He faintly registers the change of scent in the air – the smell of the ocean, like sand near a stream of water. It smells…like safety? Or a safehouse? It smells really fucking good. He has no idea how long they stay this way, staring at each other, falling into whatever spell Todoroki is casting. The 'deal with this bullshit later' part of his brain becomes bigger, turning into 'deal with this bullshit by the end of the night.'
After what he considers too long, Todoroki awkwardly averts his gaze. The dizziness dissipates immediately. Bakugo turns to the first aid box and quickly checks the inventory, making a show of rustling items loudly to calm his nerves. When he turns back to Todoroki, he is thankful that he is not looking at him.
It doesn't need to be said. They both know Todoroki won't be able to wrap his shoulder.
"Er, whatever. It's cool. So" Bakugo waves the damp gauze in his gloved hand. "Seeing as how I am just so fuckin' awesome for carrying your fat ass for six hours and threading that monstrosity, I'll seal the deal and wrap your shoulder. You're welcome."
Todoroki's lips settle in a thin line. He's too tired to retort the fat ass comment and Bakugo knows that. "Okay." He whispers icily, but the scent in the room doesn't change. "...No wrapping."
"You gonna put it on yourself?"
Todoroki is still not looking at him. He works his tongue to try and phrase a half-decent sentence. When Bakugo sees this, he raises the other glass of water to Todoroki's lips. Half n' half jerks forward slightly, gulping down the other glass as well. He sighs louder.
"Well?" The blond jeers as he sets the glass down.
Todoroki works his tongue again and has more success. "Don't need it."
"Hah?" Bakugo nearly snorts. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. Look at the size of that thing." The blonde flicks a hand towards his shoulder. "It's as big as my fuckin' fist. Stop being a bitch."
The temperature in the room drops. Todoroki inches closer to the wall. "No."
Bakugo is completely unphased. The Alpha in him rises angrily. Is Todoroki challenging him? "Listen here fuckface. I walked for over eight hours today, searching for-" For what? A red wolf? A feeling of connectedness with a creature that nearly killed his dog? "for something – and I found you passed out, naked, face first, in your own blood." Todoroki winces, but Bakugo surges on. "I could have left your dead ass there, but instead I carried you from where ever the fuck, to my house, with my dog, for six hours. Don't get prissy with me, 'cause you can fuck right off, right out of that door, back to wherever the fuck I found you. I'm putting this gauze on, whether you like it or not. Now turn the fuck around."
Half and half's expression dims. The air becomes so smoky and hot all of a sudden, Bakugo is reminded of molten lava on the brink of combustion. The blond tenses, ready for a challenge, but is once again surprised when Todoroki, shakily (and with a lot of effort and wheezing) turns his back to him. Bakugo hates the smell. The Alpha in him rocks mournfully, desiring that sea salt and summer scent again. What. The. Fuck is happening today?
Bakugo presses the tail end of the gauze lightly into half n' half's shoulder. His skin is still unbelievably hot. Todoroki winces, tensing under his touch, but otherwise doesn't move. The smoky smell is so heavy, so strong near Todoroki's neck - that Bakugo almost physically recoils from it.
COMFORT HIM. MAKE HIM SAFE.
"Jesus fuck, look. I'm tired and hungry. I am, err…" God, is he really going to say sorry? Even though he carried half and alf for six hours? Fuck that shit. No fucking chance. "…I just need food." Bakugo grits his teeth. This is painful. Why the fuck is this happening? Why am I even here? "It's not you. Or whatever the fuck. Okay? Cool. Fuck."
The effect is almost immediate. Bakugo can't see Todoroki's reaction, but he can tell he's shocked. The tangy scent evaporates into nothingness, followed by the faintest scent of artic ice and ash mixed together. Todoroki is guarded but accepting nonetheless. Half and half relaxes slightly but says nothing. After a few seconds, Bakugo slowly starts to wrap his shoulder. Up close, the blond notes that half n half's wide back is littered with scars, some deep, some small. Several of them connect together - absently, Bakugo thinks they look like constellations.
"Sorry. For reluctance." Todoroki hoarsely whispers and begins a hacking cough. He quickly recovers. "Not used…to close contact."
"I can fuckin' tell. You need to relax." Bakugo grumbles.
"I nearly died." Todoroki deadpans with more strength than Bakugo thought he had.
"It's a shame you didn't because I feel like killing you myself right now. Shut up and let me finish."
The atmosphere calms considerably as Bakugo silently wraps Todoroki's shoulder with the sterile gauze. He wraps tight enough that it won't rub, but not too tight as to suffocate the blood flow. When the blond is satisfied with his work, he seals the end of the gauze with a plaster. Todoroki looks at him at him now when he leans away, ripping his latex gloves off. His grey and turquoise eyes briefly lock onto Bakugo's burned palm and narrow, before moving up to Bakugo's face. Bakugo does not look at him as he cleans his wound and packs away the first aid box. He reaches for the large towel and a bathrobe hanging from his bathroom rack. When he turns to face Todoroki, the exhausted male is looking at him with earnest eyes. The magnetism begins, but he wrenches his eyes away and looks at half and half's eyebrows instead. Bakugo notices that Todoroki's eyebrows are icy white and blazing red. They remind him of the colourful moths he used to catch as a child. He almost thinks they look pretty. He also notices that half and half's scarred eye no longer flickers with flames. He doesn't know why he notices these things.
"Sorry." The blonde does not know why half and half is apologising. "And thank you."
Bakugo's mind has its foot on the accelerator and is full steam ahead at 100 miles per hour because he thinks Todoroki's eyebrows are pretty. He nods dumbly, mute all of a sudden, before throwing the clean towel and bathroom robe over the drying rack. Something is wrong. Something is happening right now. The scent of sunny beaches and overflowing wildlife makes him feel giddy. He doesn't know why he knows, but half and half feels safe here with him. He finally meets Todoroki's gaze. They are tired but grateful and… something else. Something else Bakugo doesn't know and doesn't want to know. Todoroki knows something Bakugo doesn't know. The unknown makes Bakugo's stomach clench like a solid fist. He feels strangely compelled to be close to half and half, which makes him panic even more. He needs to leave, right now.
He breaks eye-contact as he speaks, staring at Todoroki's hair instead. The strange feeling dies immediately. "Whatever – put this shit on when you're done."
Todoroki blankly nods. An awkward silence ensues. Todoroki tenses and the sunny-side scent begins to diminish.
MAKE HIM SAFE.
Bakugo garbles anything that comes to his brain. "I have spare blankets and pillows. They're in the drawer under my bed. When you're done, there's left over Vietnamese-Pho in the fridge. Warm that shit up in the microwave. Don't eat anything solid – your stomach - you might puke it back up." He has no idea why he's talking so much.
Todoroki quirks a single eyebrow and nods again. The sunny-side scent palpably increases. "Thanks."
Bakugo wants to know what the eyebrow quirk means, but for his own embarrassing sake he dares not ask.
"You can sleep on the, uh, sofa. Or go home. I don't give a fuck."
Todoroki nods. "Sofa."
Bakugo nods dumbly again. Todoroki is sleeping in his home, on his sofa, within metres of his bed, for fuck-knows however long. This should bother him. It does not – the realisation that it doesn't bother him legitimately worries him. This is not like him. He knows what is transpiring between half and half himself is bigger than whatever is happening in his head. They stare at each other, the strange spell that pulls Bakugo's blood hanging heavily in the air. Todoroki does not look away. Bakugo's heart slams against his ribcage. Why is he so nervous?!
"I'm going to walk my dog." Bakugo suddenly turns and kicks the door open, stepping into his open-planned home. He abruptly turns and kicks his front door open, stepping into the evening breeze. The slap of cool, fresh air carries him away from his weird stupor. His best friend trots at a leisurely pace at his heels, sniffing plants and peeing in random places. He does not spare Akuma a second glance as he strides. His mind is on overdrive.
Bakugo can admit that he can be reckless, aggressive and occasionally he is heartless – but not frequently. He is never wrong about what his gut tells him about people – about who they are, what they represent. If there was anything shitty Deku taught him through their rough times together, it was perception. Today, he set out to find a wolf. Instead, he finds a half-dead class mate that smells suspiciously like the red fur he found on the ground. He drags him back and his Alpha is going ape shit. Something is up – is it ridiculous to interrogate half and half over a wolf with the same eyes, the same elemental capabilities, with a suspiciously similar shoulder injury?
Why do I feel like I've found more than what I was looking for? What is all this fanciful feeling bullshit? He looks into himself, scrambling for answers from his Alpha – but his mirror self is silent and still, dormant when the hero needs it the most. Alright, fuck you then.
He thinks and thinks until he cannot stand himself thinking anymore. Bakugo doesn't know how long he walks past trees and jagged rocks for, but he walks long enough for his forgotten hunger to raise its ugly head and for the creeping night sky to make him reconsider. By the time he returns home, Todoroki is passed out on his sofa. A blanket is tucked to his nose and his ugly bruised temple peeks out over the covers.
Bakugo glances at the kitchen, finding a washed bowl and utensils in the drying rack. He crosses the room to open his fridge. The Pho is gone.
The hero prepares dinner silently for himself and Akuma, but the night is a blur. He is not entirely there as he chops up Akuma's favourite treat (raw tuna), mixing it with carrots and a raw egg. He is absent as he sets the bowl down in front of Akuma, too distracted to go through dog commands before the mutt's meal. Bakugo eats his spicy crab soup and crusty bread dinner in silence, staring at Todoroki's mismatched eyelashes that are blazing red and icy white from the seat of his bed. Even as he showers before bed, a voice in his mind screams that something is wrong with this sudden obsessiveness, but the voice in his Alpha screams that something is absolutely right. He is so confused, torn and tired that after hours of overthinking, he quietly hisses "Fuck this," at 1AM, grabs his toothbrush and angrily brushes his teeth until his gums protest.
Akuma attempts to sniff Todoroki's toes that peak from the covers as Bakugo brushes his teeth, but a low warning growl from his owner cancels the idea.
Bakugo shuts off the lights. He strips into his sleep gear and climbs into bed. As usual, he opens his arms. Akuma wipes his paws on the mat near the front door, before crossing the room and jumping into bed. His heart hammers in his chest; the room smells delightfully of artic ice and minty winter shrubs. It makes him even more nervous. Akuma licks the underside of Bakugo's chin until his heart rate settles. The hero uncharacteristically places his lips atop of the mutts head, stroking the back of his ears with his thumb.
"Thank you," he whispers to the only creature on the planet that has ever received his love and affection.
His dreams are stock still and dead for the first time in six years.
Yyyyeeepppp.