Chapter Text
“You have to stop leaving your laptop at the shop,” Shouto sighed as he pressed the button to the fifth floor of Izuku’s apartment complex. “I could’ve been home half an hour ago.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Shouto-kun,” Izuku’s voice filtered through on the other end of the line. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
Shouto watched the lights at the top of the elevator change as the levels increased. When it reached Izuku’s floor, it halted to a stop and the doors opened with a ding. He tightened an arm around Izuku’s brick of a laptop and started off down the hallway. The carpet muffled his footsteps, the air faintly smelling like detergent and something fried. It made his stomach growl and he suddenly remembered how hungry he was after a long day of sitting through lectures and dealing with customers. His feet were numb, he was pretty sure he had an assignment that was due an hour ago, and he wouldn’t even get the chance to relax once he was back at his apartment since his god awful roommate never left the place.
“Next time I’m letting it get stolen,” he warned, even though they both knew it was an empty threat.
“Shouto-kun,” Izuku gasped anyway. “I have six years’ worth of data on there. Do you even know how long it would take to transfer that to a new laptop? I don’t even know if I could transfer it. I’d probably have to look through all the data on the lab monitors and even then, I wouldn’t be able to recover it all. Though, I suppose Yagi-sensei has an internal system that would allow me to—”
“Then maybe you should be a little more careful where you leave it laying around.” Shouto cut off his anxious rambling. “You’re lucky I’m the one that found it and not a customer.”
“If it gets stolen, Takami-san can just rewind the cameras and see who took it. But you’re right, I should be more careful about where I leave it. I’ll remember next time, Shouto-kun.”
Shouto rolled his eyes because he knew functioning cameras were the least of the university’s worries. “I’m pretty sure only the one at the register works.”
“What?” Izuku practically screeched, and Shouto had to pull the phone away from his ear. “You mean none of the other cameras work? Isn’t that, like, illegal?”
He shrugged. “Pretty sure.”
Izuku was quiet for a moment. “Damn,” he said finally. “I should probably stop leaving my laptop there, then.”
Shouto rolled his eyes. “No shit,” he mumbled, and before Izuku could retort back, “What did you say your apartment number was again?”
“Five forty four. I texted my roommate and told him to leave the door unlocked for you. He should be in his room but if he tries to say anything to you just ignore him.”
Shouto was at Izuku’s front door now. He tried turning the door knob, but when it didn't open like Izuku said it would, he knocked on the door in three sharp raps. The sound echoed louder than expected in the quiet hallway, sharp and impatient.
Then, it finally registered what Izuku said and he furrowed a brow even though he knew the other couldn't see it. “Roommate?”
For all the years that he’d known Izuku, he’d never heard of a roommate. Granted, they usually spent most of their time at the coffee shop or the on-campus apartments where Shouto and most of their other friends lived, and since Izuku’s apartment was the farthest from campus, it never made sense to venture out there. Still, Shouto thought he would’ve heard something about a roommate by now. Izuku talked about everything. A roommate feels like something that should’ve come up by now.
“Yeah! He’s my best friend actually…”
The rest of Izuku’s words didn’t register in Shouto’s mind once the door opened and he came face to face with said roommate.
He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t this. Where Izuku was all soft edges and bright smiles and kind eyes, the man standing in front of him was hard muscle and sharp eyes and sneering lips.
More importantly, he was hot, which was a word Shouto never particularly associated Izuku with.
It didn’t help that his blonde hair was laying limp around his face, still wet from the shower Shouto had clearly interrupted. Droplets of water trailed down the sides of his face and onto his neck, then lower onto his bare chest, and lower onto his sculpted abs, and even though a towel covered the rest, Shouto didn’t allow his eyes to trail any lower than that.
He thought he wouldn’t be able to focus long enough to find his way back home if he did.
“Shouto? Shouto?” Faintly, he could still hear Izuku’s voice on the other end, and that’s what finally snapped him out of his daze.
Shouto hung up without another word.
Izuku’s roommate raised a brow. “Can I help you?” His voice was rougher than Shouto expected, low and edged, like every word was dragged out of him unwillingly.
And because Shouto was an idiot who didn’t know the first thing about class or game or how to act in front of beautiful men, all he could do was stick out Izuku’s laptop and wait for the roommate to take it. Instead, the man’s brow rose impossibly higher, and he looked down at the laptop with something akin to disgust.
“The fuck am I supposed to do with this?” He snarled, and with every word that came out of his mouth, Shouto decided he was less and less like Izuku. He couldn’t imagine the two men in the same room, let alone inhabiting the same living space. Maybe he’d knocked on the wrong door. Izuku had said five fourty four, right?
This had to be wrong. It felt wrong.
Shouto swallowed down the stammer in his throat and tried not to feel intimidated by the man’s height and piercing red eyes and the fact that he was still only in a towel.
“Izuku— uh Midoriya-kun left this at the coffee shop I work at. He asked me to bring it over on my way home.”
His snarl deepened, and now Shouto was sure he’d gotten the wrong apartment. He took a step back, ready to bolt and just bring the laptop home with him. Or leave it outside the apartment and hope no one took it. Izuku could pick it up when he got home. Or maybe it would get stolen and Izuku would finally learn his lesson. That would save Shouto from having to do this again.
Just as he was about to make a run for it, the man spoke up. “The nerd made you come here after your shift? Why couldn’t he get it himself?”
Shouto blinked. Why had Izuku asked him to bring it instead of picking it up himself? Surely he had time after his class ended to come get it. Then, Shouto remembered the reason Izuku had left in such a hurry in the first place.
“His boyfriend called him and said he needed help with something. It sounded like an emergency.”
Shouto thought he noticed a hint of worry flash across his eyes, but it was gone a second later, replaced with that same disgruntled gaze. It happened so fast Shouto almost thought he imagined it. “That weird kid? He’s still with him?”
“He’s your roommate. Shouldn’t you know?”
The glower was back on his face. “As if I give a fuck about the stupid shit he does or the dumbass people he hangs out with.”
Shouto frowned. Who did this guy think he was? “I'm one of those people.”
Red eyes flickered up and down the length of Shouto’s body, sizing him up, and Shouto tried his best to not squirm under the scrutinizing gaze. It was like being dissected, decided that he wasn’t worth anything, then dismissed all in a single glance. Shouto hated the feeling. It made him feel like a little kid again.
He snorted. “And what makes you think you’re any different, half and half?”
Shouto’s eyes narrowed, and he tried not to raise a self conscious hand to his hair. “You know, you’re not as intimidating as you think you are.” A lie. “Especially not when you look as stupid as you do in that towel.” Another lie. Shouto knew he’d be having visions of Izuku’s roommate in that towel for a very long time.
The man's eyes widened a fraction, and to Shouto’s surprise, he threw his head back in loud laughter. It was rough and boyish and rang in Shouto’s ears long after it was over. He tried not to look at the long line of his throat which was made even clearer by the water droplets that trailed down it.
The laughter died down and the other man regarded Shouto again. His expression was softer now, filled with amusement rather than hostility. It made him look different. Still harsh and rude and demanding, but not in the same way his father was.
“What’s your name, kid?”
“Kid?” Shouto scowled. “We’re the same age.”
That made his smile stretch even wider. When he didn’t say anything, just waited patiently for Shouto to introduce himself, Shouto huffed. “Todoroki Shouto,” he said, hating how small his voice sounded even to his own ears.
“Well, Todoroki Shouto,” he drawled out, and Shouto tried to ignore the way his mouth went dry at the low tone in which he said his name, like he was testing how it felt in his mouth, “my point still stands. Stupid shit. Dumbass people.”
Shouto would cross his arms if it weren’t for the heavy laptop he still held in his hand. He settled for a glare.
“Are you gonna take this or not?”
The man watched him for another minute before he uncrossed his arms and held out a hand. Shouto handed him the laptop, expecting him to promptly slam the door in his face, but instead, he continued to stare at Shouto.
“Where did you say you worked again?”
“A coffee shop on campus.”
He was quiet for a moment while he thought. “The one near the chemistry building?”
Shouto nodded. “You know it?”
The coffee shop he worked at didn’t have as much traffic since most people tended to frequent the chain coffee shop in the student center. Still, they received a decent amount of students, and on the weekdays when they had their morning rush, it felt like half of the students on campus were showing up to order coffee.
“I’ve seen it before. The nerd spends a lot of time there.”
Shouto had to stop his eye from twitching at the man’s tone. Like he had better things to do right now than entertain the stranger at his door. He also didn’t like the way he was acting like he was somehow better than Izuku. Or him.
Best friend, Izuku had said? Shouto shuddered at the thought.
Whatever. He’d safely delivered the laptop, so he could leave now. God, he was gonna kill Izuku. “Well. Bye.”
Shouto turned around and pointedly ignored the man’s abs and the towel that had somehow snuck even lower. It took more effort than it should’ve.
“Wait,” a voice stopped him when he was halfway down the hall to the elevators. He turned around to see Izuku’s roommate with half his body leaning out the front door. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my name?”
Shouto turned back around. “Go put on some clothes,” is all he said back.
“It’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he called out. Then, “I’ll see you later, half and half.”
There was something in the way he said it, like it was a fact rather than a possibility, that made Shouto pray he would never see him again, if only to prove him wrong. He rolled his eyes, though he knew the roommate, Bakugou, couldn't see it. “Don’t count on it.”
He turned the corner to the elevators, but not without a small glance back at Bakugou. The sight he was met with was almost laughable.
Bakugou was now standing in the middle of the hallway with nothing but the small, white towel protecting the last of his decency. It was held up by one hand while the other clutched Izuku’s laptop to his chest. He looked completely ridiculous yet completely edible and it was completely unfair.
As silly as he looked standing there half naked in the middle of his apartment building, it was the teasing smirk spread across his face that forced Shouto to bite back a smile of his own.
He shook his head as he pressed the button for the elevator, and again, prayed he would never run into Bakugou again.
~
To: Izuku
<< you never told me you had a roommate
From: Izuku
>> huh really?
>> guess i forgot to mention it
To: Izuku
<< a little heads up would’ve been nice
From: Izuku
>> why? did something happen??
>> was he rude to you??
>> he’s like that sometimes but he doesn’t mean it i promise!!
>> he’s harmless, really. kind of like a chihuahua :D
To: Izuku
<< it’s fine
<< he was alright
<< i guess.
From: Izuku
>> oh
>> that's good :P
A minute later, another text came through.
From Izuku:
>> you want his number ?
~
Shouto woke to the loud blaring of his alarm. He groaned and shoved his head back into his pillows, trying to escape the deep pounding in his skull. It throbbed behind his eyes in slow, relentless pulses, like his brain was knocking against bone. After a minute, he cracked an eye open, blinking through the sleepy haze, and winced at the bright light of his room.
“Hey, bro, you mind turning that off?” His roommate’s loud voice was muffled through their shared wall. He heard a loud explosion from his roommate’s gaming console then an even louder whoop, and sighed. Shouto assumed that the other boy hadn't gone to sleep yet.
He pulled his head out from between his pillows and glared at the ceiling, letting the loud ringing echo through the room for another minute to piss Ishida off. If Shouto was going to suffer then so should he. Finally, he reached his hand out to his nightstand and fumbled for his phone, turning his alarm off.
After ungluing himself from his bed, Shouto went through his morning routine quickly. He took a shower and got changed, and by the time he came out of the bathroom, Ishida was getting into bed. His room smelled faintly of body wash and stale energy drinks, a combination that made Shouto’s stomach turn.
“You look like shit, bro.” He barked out a laugh when he saw him.
Shouto knew he looked like shit because when he entered the bathroom and saw his reflection in the mirror, dull hair and dark under eyes and ashen skin, he actually jumped. For a split second, he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him, just some exhausted stranger wearing his face.
Shouto glared at him even though it was entirely too early to be bickering. “And whose fault is that?”
“Dunno, man.” He shrugged one shoulder, sounding genuinely confused. “Try going to sleep earlier, maybe?”
Shouto had to close his eyes and take three deep breaths to stop himself from throttling Ishida.
He gathered up his things, shoving all his books in his bag, before he left the apartment, making sure to slam the door extra loud on his way out. The satisfying bang echoed down the hall, followed by Ishida’s faint, indignant “Hey!” from inside. He began the five minute walk to the coffee shop, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of the morning rush. The cool morning air did little to wake him up, but it at least dulled the headache enough to make him functional.
“Shou-kun!” Hawks greeted him with a wide smile when he entered. The bell above the door hadn’t even finished chiming before Hawks was on him. Shouto just sighed and walked over to the register to clock in, not possessing the mental energy to address his manager. He’d never understood how the man was always so cheery.
“My greeting seems to have fallen on deaf ears.” Hawks laughed loud enough to turn a couple heads from the early customers already waiting, and pressed the back of his hand dramatically to his forehead. “Ah, how cruel. Ignored by my favorite employee. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.” He peeked at Shouto through one eye, grin widening when he got no reaction, and slung an arm around his shoulders anyway. “Let me try again. Good morning, Shou-kun!”
Shouto looked over to Tokoyami, who was putting the lid on an iced coffee. “Make him stop.”
Tokoyami just shrugged and handed the coffee to the woman on the other side of the counter. “I have learned it is best not to interfere,” he said solemnly, as if this is something he’d thought about extensively.
Shouto turned to look at the older man. “Good morning, Hawks-san.” Hawks smiled again, the corners of his eyes scrunching up, and squeezed Shouto’s arm with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his shoulder.
“Let’s get some caffeine in you.” He guided Shouto to the back area of the coffee shop, pushing him down on a metal barstool, and returned a minute later with a steaming cup of coffee. A pump of white chocolate syrup and a splash of oat milk the way he knew Shouto liked it.
“Thank you,” Shouto mumbled, wrapping his hands around the cup and letting the warmth seep into them before taking a sip. The sweetness hit first, then the bitterness, grounding him just enough to feel human again. Hawks pulled a barstool up and took a seat beside him.
“You still not getting much sleep?” His smile was softer now as he searched Shouto’s face.
“Mm-mm.”
Shouto couldn’t even remember the last time he slept more than four hours. Between the never ending assignments and his shifts at the coffee shop and Ishida’s incessant noise, he couldn’t find the time to get any rest. It was starting to take a toll on him, and he knew the people around him could see it, too. He hated that they could.
“Why don’t you take the next few days off? You can catch up on sleep and assignments and come into work without looking like you want to kill yourself and everyone who steps foot in the door!” Hawks laughed and reached out a hand to ruffle Shouto’s hair. The weight of it felt nice on his pounding head, and Shouto leaned into it before he could stop himself. “You’re gonna start scaring my customers off, Shou-kun.”
Shouto was shaking his head before Hawks finished the proposition. “I can’t afford to take any days off.”
The only downside of going no contact with his father was that he was now providing for himself. He’d take that over living with the man any day, but paying for textbooks and rent and utilities wasn’t exactly easy. Luckily tuition was covered by his scholarship, which lifted most of the financial burden, but even then, he was barely staying afloat. Every shift mattered. Every hour counted. There wasn’t room for rest, not if he wanted to keep this life he’d built for himself.
It was hard, but at least it was his.
Hawks sighed and lowered his hand to cup the back of Shouto’s neck. “Why don’t you let me tell Touya what’s going on? You know he’d help you out in an instant. And I told you you can sleep on our couch whenever you want. We’ll even take the couch so you can have the bed!”
“Touya’s living off a TA salary. He’s not exactly in the position to be helping me out.”
A big reason Shouto had applied to Yuuei, apart from it being a prestigious school with one of the best psychology programs in the area, was to be closer to Touya, who was now halfway through his graduate program. After being isolated from his siblings for the better part of his childhood, and Touya’s disappearance from their home when Shouto was still too young to remember much about him, he jumped at the opportunity to reconnect with him when Natsuo mentioned their oldest brother’s enrollment at the university.
Even though he knew Touya would drop everything to ease Shouto’s burden, he wanted to show his brother that he was capable of accomplishing things on his own for once.
Sometimes, when he let himself think about it too long, it felt like he was balancing everything on a thin wire. One missed shift, one failed exam, one bad decision away from it all collapsing in on itself. The apartment, his job, the distance he’d managed to carve out between himself and his father—it was all held together by something fragile, something temporary.
Asking Touya for help felt too close to pulling at that thread, like admitting he couldn’t do it on his own would unravel everything he’d worked for.
And maybe that was stupid. He knew Touya wouldn’t see it that way, but Shouto couldn’t shake the feeling that if he leaned too much, even on the people who loved him, he might not be able to stand back up on his own again.
“He’d be happy living in a cardboard box if it meant you were comfortable, Shou-kun.” Hawks smiled softly, his eyes going shiny and wistful the way they always did when he talked about Touya. If Shouto didn’t love his brother so much he’d find it disgusting.
“Exactly,” Shouto said pointedly. “I’ll figure something out. Don’t mention anything to him.”
“Well,” Hawks sighed and shrugged as if to say what can you do. “The offer’s always up. Now finish your coffee and come help us out.” He jumped off the stool and leaned in with a wicked smile. “We’ve left poor Fumikage-kun to man the ship alone.”
“I’m fine, Hawks-san,” Tokoyami called from behind the register, despite the growing line. A customer coughed pointedly, and another checked their watch.
“Of course you are but it doesn’t make me feel any better about neglecting my favorite employee, Tsukuyomi!”
“Yes, sir!” Tokoyami straightened as he greeted the next customer, and Shouto didn't miss the flush going down his neck. Hawks laughed loudly and clapped the younger boy on the shoulder.
Shouto shook his head and smiled softly as he took another sip of coffee. Either the caffeine was kicking in, or the older man’s cheerful attitude was already beginning to take effect on him. Regardless, Shouto felt a little more ready to start his day.
~
As the leaves began changing and the fall chill filled the air, creeping in through open windows and settling into the spaces between buildings, turning mornings sharper and evenings quieter, Shouto found it increasingly difficult to keep up with his obligations.
He’d had to remake four drinks that week because he kept messing up orders, which he never did, and he had more and more missed assignments piling up. Names blurred together at the register, measurements slipped his mind mid-pour, and more than once he caught himself staring blankly at the espresso machine like he’d forgotten how it worked.
He knew he had to do something to rectify his situation, but he didn’t even have time to breathe let alone find solutions for problems that were out of his hands.
Izuku invited him to hangout at Shinsou and Kaminari’s apartment with a few of their friends while he was in his chemistry lecture. He should’ve said no. He had planned to go home, collapse into his bed for whatever scraps of sleep he could get (assuming his roommate wasn’t still up screaming into his headset), and catch up on his missed assignments. He should’ve said no but he didn’t.
When class was dismissed, and Shouto had promised to meet Izuku in an hour to head to Shinsou’s, he heard his name called out.
“Todoroki-kun, a word?” His professor said from the front of the lecture hall.
Most of the class had filtered out by now, eager to enjoy one of the last warm days of the season. The campus grounds were littered with picnic blankets, and hammocks hung from trees. Students stretched out in the sun like they didn’t have deadlines looming over them, laughter carrying easily through the crisp air.
Shouto paused where he was packing up his things, brow furrowing, but hastily shoved his laptop into his bag and headed to the front of the room.
“Sensei?”
His professor spared him a glance, then pulled a paper out of his bag and handed it to Shouto. Shouto recognized his own handwriting from the midterm they had taken the week before.
“I don’t normally return exams, but your score is a bit alarming, Todorki-kun. You scored much lower than the average.”
“Oh.” Shouto didn’t think he did that bad. Sure, there were a few questions he didn’t get a chance to answer before time was up, but he felt confident about the ones he had answered.
His professor eyed him with concern. “I suggest you look over your exam and see which areas you can improve on. Preferably with a tutor. I worry that if you continue on the same trajectory, you may not earn a passing grade.”
Shouto frowned. “A tutor?”
The professor nodded. “This exam is designed for most students to pass, and the class will only get more challenging moving forward. Most concepts build off of the ones you were tested on in the midterm. If you are having trouble at this level, I advise you to seek out some additional support. Of course, you are always welcome to attend my office hours, but the chemistry department has many students offering one-on-one advising.”
He dug through his bag for another paper and handed Shouto a list of graduate students and their contact information. He pointed to the first name, which Shouto vaguely recognized. “This is the teaching assistant for our course, but any of these students would be able to provide tutoring on the concepts we’ve covered so far.”
Shouto glanced at the rest of the paper but none of the words registered in his mind. The names blurred together, ink smudging into meaningless lines as a dull pressure settled in his chest.
Instead, he nodded and clutched the paper tighter. “I’ll reach out to them. Thank you, Sensei.”
His professor offered a small smile. “You’re welcome, Todoroki-kun. Let me know if any issues arise in the process.”
Shouto nodded and thanked him again. He knew he should go to the chemistry building and talk to an advisor, but instead, he walked the extra fifteen minutes to the housing office and put in a request for a room change for the following semester.
~
Shouto was late meeting Izuku, but he couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty about it. He told him to go on ahead and that he’d meet him at Shinsou’s apartment, then got all of twenty minutes of sleep before his roommate started shouting over his headset. Shouto wondered where all his tuition money was going because it was clearly not to the paper thin walls separating their rooms.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, and spent a few minutes freshening up before he headed out. He welcomed the breeze in the air as he made the short walk to his friends’ apartment.
Kaminari let him in when he got there, wincing when he saw the state Shouto was in. He hadn’t spared a glance at himself before leaving, but he knew the circles under his eyes had only gotten darker as the weeks went on. He’d also been seeing his friends less the deeper he got into the semester, and hoped his appearance wasn’t too alarming, but judging from Kaminari’s reaction, he wasn’t so sure.
“You okay, man?”
Shouto nodded. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries.” He ushered Shouto in. “Come on, everyone’s here. There’s food, and I think I have a redbull in the fridge if you want one.”
Shouto shook his head. If he drank any caffeine now, it would be even harder to fall asleep at night. He’d made that mistake one too many times.
Shouto heard loud voices coming from the living room, but he stopped at the kitchen to get food before he headed in. Someone had made stir fry, and Shouto’s stomach grumbled as he dished it into the plate Kaminari handed him. He hadn’t had time to eat much either, which only made the sunkenness of his cheeks appear worse.
When he made his way into the living room, there were gasps of delight.
“Shou-chan!” Ashido exclaimed, getting up from her seat on the couch to give him a hug. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you. I’ve missed you the last few weeks. How are classes going? Is your roommate still a dick?”
It was no secret that Shouto wasn’t a fan of his roommate—he’d spent weeks complaining to his friends about him. It wasn’t the first time he had shown up to a hangout already irritated.
“Let the man breathe, Mina,” Kirishima laughed, but raised a hand in greeting. He was sitting on the floor, back against Bakugou’s knees.
Wait, Bakugou? Since when did Izuku’s roommate start hanging out with them? Shouto distinctly remembered him saying something about not keeping up with Izuku’s dumbass friends.
The blonde narrowed his eyes at Shouto from his spot on the couch, almost like he was daring Shouto to question his presence, but didn't acknowledge him otherwise.
Shouto mumbled a greeting to the group, then took a seat on the couch next to Izuku and Shinsou.
They’d all met in different ways: classes, mutual friends, late nights at the coffee shop, but somewhere along the way, it solidified into this. A place Shouto didn’t have to think too hard to belong in.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he told Ashido. “Classes are…” he trailed off and took a bite of food, chewing in favor of answering. “And yes, my roommate’s still a dick.”
Izuku smiled at him sympathetically, and Ashido groaned. “We need to do something about him. Is it too late to request a room change?”
“I submitted a request after class. I guess I’ll find out in a few days.”
“If they deny it, you can always crash with me!” Kirishima offered, and Bakugou snorted.
“I think shitty roommate beats crashing on the communal couch at your frat house.”
It seemed like they knew each other. Shouto couldn’t place when or how that had happened, like Bakugou had slipped into their circle without warning, already familiar and comfortable. Part of Shouto wondered if he was experiencing some form of amnesia from the lack of sleep and Bakugou had always been there, and Shouto was the one who’d somehow missed it.
“It’s not a frat house, it’s cohousing.” Kirishima turned around to stick his tongue out at Bakugou. “And my roommates have more decency than Todoroki’s does.”
Shouto had been to Kirishima’s place before and couldn’t say the conditions were much better than his own, but if his request got denied he might have to take him up on that offer. At least Kirishima’s roommates went to sleep at reasonable times.
“Oh, how did your chemistry midterm go?” Izuku asked. “I know you spent a lot of time studying for it. Did you end up figuring out how to calculate the limiting reagent? My notes should have explained it, but I don’t know how detailed that section was. What chapter was it, again?”
Shouto didn’t have the heart to tell Izuku that he had completely forgotten to review the notes the other boy had sent him, or that he still didn’t know what a limiting reagent was. He was pretty sure he left that question blank.
Shouto took another bite, ignoring Izuku’s expectant look. Even Shinsou was looking at him with a raised brow. The room felt a little too quiet all of a sudden, like everyone was waiting for him to say something. He focused on chewing, swallowing, and not meeting anyone’s eyes.
“You failed didn’t you?” Shinsou broke the silence.
Shouto could only sigh.
“What?” Izuku turned to his boyfriend, eyes wide and earnest, confusion written plainly across his face, like the idea didn’t quite compute for him. “No he didn’t. Shouto-kun studied really hard for that exam. Right, Shouto?”
“I did.” Shouto nodded, and Izuku looked at Shinsou as if to say see. “But I also failed.” Izuku’s smile faded. “My professor recommended I see a tutor.”
It was quiet for a moment. Izuku’s eyes widened, and Shouto could see the cogs turning in his head as he began thinking of solutions. He was probably already drafting a mental list of topics he could personally help Shouto with, mapping out study sessions around Shouto’s schedule.
The silence was broken by a loud cackle, and Shouto looked over to where Bakugou had his head thrown back in laughter.
“Dude.” Kaminari elbowed him, trying to stifle his own smile. “Shut up.”
Bakugou just laughed harder.
“Guys.” Ashido shoved into Kaminari, who fell into Bakugou. They were both laughing shamelessly now, and Kirishima was shaking his head under them. “Don’t be mean.” It was a mess of limbs and noise, the couch shifting under the weight of their movements.
When Izuku gave a sympathetic smile of his own, his eyes gleaming at their friends’ antics, Shouto groaned and sank deeper into the couch. He let his head tip back for a second, staring at the ceiling like maybe it would swallow him whole. “I hate you all.”
Izuku laughed and patted his knee. “It’s okay, Shouto-kun, we’ll figure something out.” He seemed to think for a minute. “Oh! Kacchan can tutor you,” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up as he turned to his roommate. “He’s great at chemistry!”
The blonde abruptly stopped laughing and looked at Izuku as if he suddenly grew two heads. “Ha? Like hell I will.”
“Come on, man.” Kirishima nudged Bakugou’s knee from his spot on the floor. “You’re in orgo two, gen chem is a breeze for you. Help the guy out.”
Bakugou's head whipped between the two of them. “You think I don’t have better shit to do than tutor some dumbass who can’t pass fucking gen chem?”
His gaze flicked to Shouto for a split second, sharp and assessing, and something in Shouto’s chest tightened before he could stop it.
He frowned, and Izuku gave him a consoling smile. “You’re not a dumbass, Shouto-kun,” he said, as Kirishima shoved Bakugou’s knee harder. “Stop being a dick.”
“Shut the fuck up, shitty hair.” Bakugou shoved him back, sending Kirishima toppling over.
The redhead sat up with a challenging glint in his eyes and pulled Bakugou onto the floor with him. The movement was sudden and chaotic. Bakugou’s knee bumped into the coffee table, nearly spilling Kaminari’s drink.
“Oi! Get the fuck off me, asshole.” Kirishima had him in a headlock, laughing as Bakugou clawed at his arm.
“You’re the asshole. Tutor Todoroki.”
“Fuck no!”
“Yes.”
“I said no.”
“Do it.”
“No!”
“Tutor him,” Kirishima bellowed into his ear, laughing harder at Bakugou’s efforts to escape.
Bakugou thrashed under him, all sharp elbows and irritated snarls, but there was something almost familiar about it, like it wasn’t the first time they’d ended up like this.
“Fine, fuck! Just get off me, idiot.”
Kirishima finally loosened his grip, and Bakugou scrambled away from him, red faced and panting. Shouto half expected him to yell at Kirishima or punch him or something, but he just mirrored the challenging smirk as he adjusted his shirt where it had slipped down to reveal the sharp jut of his collarbone. Shouto tried not to let his gaze linger on it. After all, he’d seen much more than that.
“I’m gonna get you back for that, asshole.”
“You wish.” Kirishima flipped him off, prompting Bakugou to flick him on the forehead.
“Ow!” He yelped, but Shouto wasn’t paying attention anymore because Izuku nudged him, a knowing look on his face. “Like I said. Chihuahua.”
Shouto just sighed. This felt like a bad idea. If his chemistry grade was in the hands of Bakugou Katsuki, it was safe to say he was fucked.
~
Two days later, after the afternoon rush had died down, Shouto received a text from an unknown number.
>> be here at 6
It was already past five, and by the time he finished up at the shop and made it to Bakugou’s apartment at the edge of campus, it would be time for their tutoring session. Shouto had hoped he’d be able to pick up dinner beforehand, but that wasn’t likely now.
Whatever, he could eat when he got home.
He stared at the message for a second longer than necessary, thumb hovering over the screen before he finally tapped it in acknowledgment. No greeting, no name, just a command. Shouto considered ignoring it but then sighed when he remembered the red markings on his exam. He wiped his hands on a towel and sent a thumbs up.
He found Hawks, who was sitting in the back filling out their monthly inventory form. “Do you need anything before I head out?”
“Nope.” The older man shook his head, twisting in his chair to crack his back. It had been a long day. “Good work as always today, Shou-kun.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at Shouto.
“Thanks.” Shouto took his apron off and hung it on one of the pegs near the short row of lockers in the back, replacing it with a thin jacket. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early.” He winked. “Get home safe,” Hawks called out, his voice growing distant as Shouto exited out the back door. The door swung shut behind him with a dull thud, muting the hum of the shop until all that was left was the quiet of the alley.
Shouto ignored the throbbing of his feet as he made the trek to Bakugou’s apartment. The sun had already begun to set, bringing with it a slight chill. He shivered and zipped his jacket up.
He arrived at Bakugou’s and made the familiar trip up to the fifth floor.
The door swung open before he could knock a second time.
“About time,” Bakugou muttered, already turning away like he hadn’t been waiting. His tone was sharp, but his eyes flicked over Shouto once, quick and assessing, lingering just a fraction too long on the faint shadows under Shouto’s eyes. “You’re late.”
“I’m two minutes early,” Shouto replied, stepping inside.
“Whatever.”
Shouto barely got his shoes off before Bakugou was shoving something into his hands. He looked down. A bowl. Steam curled up from it in thin wisps.
Shouto blinked. “You made food?”
Bakugou clicked his tongue, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Don’t make it weird. I made extra.”
Shouto could only stare at the bowl in his hands.
“Is there a problem?”
Shouto blinked down at it. “I like soba.” It came out quieter than he meant it to.
Bakugou looked away and dished out a portion for himself. “Stop staring at it and go eat, then, dumbass.”
They ate at the small table in near silence, the only sounds the clink of chopsticks against ceramic and the low hum of the fridge. The food was good. Seasoned just right and warm enough to settle something restless in his chest.
“This is good,” Shouto said after a moment.
Bakugou snorted. “Obviously.”
When they were done eating, Bakugou got up to put their dishes in the sink, then reappeared with a pile of books, slamming them down on the table next to him. Shouto winced at the sound, but pulled his own notebook and laptop out of his bag.
“Let me see your midterm,” Bakugou grumbled.
Shouto pulled the wrinkled paper out from the middle of his notebook, bracing himself for more laughter as Bakugou looked over it. Surprisingly, Bakugou was silent, brows drawn together as he read through Shouto’s answers.
Wordlessly, he pulled Shouto’s notebook between them and began numbering an empty page. “We’re gonna restart with the basics then we’re gonna go over each question of this stupid exam until you can ace it in your sleep.”
Shouto just nodded.
Bakugou picked up the textbook at the top of the pile and opened it up between them, scooting closer so they could both see. Their shoulders almost brushed. Shouto pretended not to notice. Bakugou started at the first chapter, his voice low and authoritative as he began explaining terms and concepts.
For the most part, Shouto listened. The few questions he did ask, he expected Bakugou to roll his eyes at or call stupid, but he answered in straightforward terms, foregoing the elaborate theoretical explanations that usually made Shouto lose concentration.
By the end of the second chapter, Shouto was shocked to realize he actually understood the material.
“Let’s practice.”
Bakugou pulled the notebook between them again and began copying an equation from the list of practice problems at the end of the chapter. He explained each step to Shouto as he solved it, labeling them in neat handwriting.
“Make sense?” He cocked a brow at Shouto when he was done.
Shouto looked over the equation again, retracing every step that Bakugou had performed, and was pleased to note that yes, it did make sense.
He nodded.
Bakugou wrote out the next problem, then sat back in his chair, shoving the notebook toward Shouto. “Now you try.”
Shouto studied the equation for a second then began copying Bakugou’s work, plugging the new numbers in. He tried to ignore Bakugou’s gaze on the side of his face as he worked. His grip on the pencil tightened slightly under the weight of it.
His pace was much slower, but when he finished, he turned the paper towards Bakugou. The other man looked over it for a second, an unconscious frown on his face, before he nodded.
Shouto felt his lips turn up into a small smile. Bakugou looked up at him through his lashes as he copied down another equation, and snorted.
“Don’t get too excited, half and half. We still have three more chapters to cover.”
“What, right now?” It was already eight thirty, and Shouto was scheduled for an opening shift tomorrow.
“Yes, right now.” Bakugou scowled. “I’m not doing this shit again so either we finish now or we don’t finish at all.”
Shouto groaned and let his head thunk against the table, hair falling over his eyes.
“You should be thanking me,” Bakugou huffed.
Shouto let his head roll to the side so he could look up at Bakugou. “Thank you.” His voice was softer now, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion as they lingered on Bakugou’s face a second too long. There was a pause, brief, but noticeable, where neither of them looked away.
“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving the notebook towards him. Shouto didn’t miss the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. It crept up from his collar, barely visible but there. It softened his features, making him look younger.
Shouto picked up the pencil and solved the next equation. They repeated practice problems until Bakugou was satisfied and Shouto could solve them without referencing the previous problems.
When they moved onto the third chapter, the low timber of Bakugou’s voice relaxed him, his eyes threatening to slip shut. The words blurred together at the edges, but the cadence of his voice remained steady.
When Bakugou asked a question then looked over to find him fighting sleep, he kicked Shouto under the table.
“Oi! Are you even paying attention?” He demanded.
“Yes, sorry.” Shouto scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just tired.”
“Well, tough. It’s past my bedtime, too, princess. You don’t see me complaining.”
Shouto smiled sleepily, undeterred by the sharpness of his voice. “You have a bedtime? That’s cute.”
“Wha—shut up!” He snapped, his face contorting into a fierce scowl. There was pink dusting his cheeks again, and Shouto had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing.
Bakugou glared at him again then went back to explaining something about bonds. Shouto didn’t remember where exactly they left off. His head was leaning against his hand, elbow resting on the table, and this time he couldn’t stop his eyes from slipping shut as he listened to the rumble of Bakugou’s voice, soft and deep.
The words faded first, then the page, then everything else, until all that was left was the steady sound of Bakugou talking, low and close.
He didn’t notice when his grip on the pencil loosened, when his head dipped just slightly further into his palm. He didn’t notice when Bakugou stopped talking.
For the first time in weeks, his mind went quiet.
~
Shouto woke up on the couch, his legs tangled in a plush blanket. He lifted a hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes, wincing at the pain that shot through his shoulder at the motion. Somehow he had ended up on the couch, his arm serving as a pillow, but he couldn’t remember when.
He recalled falling asleep on the table while Bakugou explained something about endothermic and exothermic reactions, but he didn’t remember much after that.
He felt well rested, but disoriented—the way waking up somewhere you don’t quite belong tends to make you feel. The blanket was heavier than anything he owned, softer too, and it smelled faintly of detergent and something sharper underneath that he couldn’t quite place.
He sat up, peeling the blanket off his legs and stretching his arms above his head until he felt a satisfying pop.
The empty apartment was quiet, almost too quiet compared to the constant noise of his own, the light streaming through the window painting it in shades of yellow. He allowed himself to sit in silence for a moment, watching dust particles dance in the light in front of him. They drifted lazily, suspended in the silence.
Finally he sighed and got up to grab his phone that was still on the table. The screen lit up too brightly in his hands, the calm of the room cracking instantly under the weight of reality pressing back in.
There was a stream of texts waiting for him.
From: Unknown
>> lock the door when u leave. spare key’s on the table
From: Izuku
>> how did it go yesterday??
From: Tokoyami
>> Are you coming in today, Todoroki-kun?
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The time on his phone read 9:30. His shift had started three hours ago. With shaky hands, he unlocked his phone, ignoring the texts and opening up the phone app.
“Shou-kun!” The bright, easy voice filtered through his phone after the first ring. “Good morning.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep studying last night and didn’t set an alarm. I just woke up but I can—”
Hawks’ laugh cut off his apologetic rambling. “It’s okay, Shou-kun. Me and Tokoyami-kun held down the fort. It hasn’t been very busy this morning anyway.”
Shouto scrubbed a hand across his face, guilt blooming in his stomach because he knew the older man was lying.
The morning rush was the busiest time of the day. He could picture it clearly: the line out the door, the overlapping orders, the steady rhythm of cups and machines, and Hawks stepping in without complaint, filling the space Shouto left behind like it was nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice small. “I can be there in half an hour.”
“No need to apologize, Shou.” Hawks’ voice was muffled by the hiss of the frother in the background, steam cutting through his words in soft bursts, the clatter of cups and low murmur of customers bleeding through the call. “I’m glad you were able to get some rest. Don’t worry about coming in today— I’d much rather be on the floor than in the back making another inventory order. Who knew managing a business required so much paperwork?”
“Hawks…”
“Catch up on school work. Take a walk. Skip your lectures and listen to the birds sing.” He laughed, and Shouto could practically hear the way his eyes crinkled with it. “Don’t tell anyone I said that, though. It’s not very responsible of me.”
Shouto just sighed, a frown pulling at his features. When he said nothing else, Hawks added, softer this time,
“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, hm? Touya bought a bunch of meat on sale the other day that we can grill up. Beats dining hall food, huh?”
“I…” Shouto hesitated, his grip tightening slightly around his phone.
He hadn’t seen Touya in weeks. Not properly. There were texts, quick check-ins, the occasional “you good?” that Shouto always answered with a simple “yeah.” It was easier that way.
Easier than showing up exhausted and slipping behind, not quite holding everything together the way he knew he should be.
Touya had fought so hard to build something stable for himself, something separate from their past, and Shouto couldn’t shake the feeling that showing up like this, half put together and barely managing, might somehow fracture that.
Or worse, remind Touya of things they’d both tried to leave behind.
“Hm.” Hawks hummed thoughtfully. There was a pause. “He’s been asking about you lately.” It was said lightly, but he heard the intention behind it.
Shouto was silent for another moment. His chest felt tight.
“Think about it, okay?”
“Okay.”
Hawks hummed. “Bye bye, Shou-kun.”
Shouto mumbled a farewell then hung up.
He took a moment to freshen up in Izuku’s bathroom, deliberately avoiding Bakugou’s side of the apartment, then grabbed the spare key from the table and turned to leave. He paused briefly at the door, glancing back once, at the couch, the folded blanket, the quiet, before pulling it shut behind him.
He considered grabbing something to eat and heading to his lecture hall early, but instead took Hawks’ advice, walking to a park at the edge of campus, and listened to the birds sing.
~
Shouto didn’t go to Hawks and Touya’s for dinner that night, and thankfully, the next day at work, Hawks didn’t mention his absence or the empty seat at their table.
The day passed by in a blur, and by the time his shift ended, he had a text from Bakugou, whose number he still hadn’t saved.
>> library at 6. don’t be late
Shouto fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was hard to be annoyed at the man when he was a surprisingly good tutor. For the first time ever, Shouto found himself understanding concepts that typically went through one ear and out the other. Even now, he could almost hear the low cadence of Bakugou’s voice walking him through each step.
He made his way over to the main library on campus, which was thankfully much closer than the trek to Bakugou’s. The blonde had sent him another text letting him know he was on the fourth floor. By the time Shouto made it up there, he was slightly winded. It didn’t take him long to spot Bakugou’s head of light hair at a table in the back corner of the room.
“Hey.” Shouto set his bag down and pulled out the chair to the left of Bakugou.
The other man grumbled something unintelligible in response, not sparing Shouto a glance as he pulled the chemistry textbook out of his bag.
His movements were quick and efficient, and he had already flipped to the page they left off at before Shouto had settled into his seat.
Shouto frowned. “You’ve been carrying that around all day?”
“And who’s fucking fault is that?” Bakugou grumbled.
Shouto just sighed, pulling his own notebook out and flipping to a new page.
This time, there was no awkward pause, no fumbling for where to start. Bakugou picked up right where they left off, flipping through pages like he already knew exactly what they needed to cover, and Shouto followed without needing to be told.
“Alright,” Bakugou muttered, tapping a section of the page. “You fucked this up on your midterm.”
“I know,” Shouto replied flatly. “I could’ve sworn I got that one right,” he said, more to himself, but Bakugou still rolled his eyes.
“Clearly not, dumbass.”
Bakugou started explaining, pen moving as he broke down the problem into smaller steps. Shouto leaned in slightly, tracking each motion as Bakugou scribbled notes in the margins.
“Why are you doing that?” Shouto asked after a moment, pointing to a step that he definitely skipped on his midterm.
Bakugou glanced at him, then back at the page. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna get the wrong unit at the end. And then your whole answer’s fucked.”
“Oh.”
Shouto nodded, writing it down.
At some point, their chairs had shifted closer, not enough to notice when it happened, but enough that their elbows brushed every now and then when they reached for the same space on the table.
“Focus,” Bakugou snapped when Shouto’s pencil paused mid-problem.
“I am focusing.”
“You’ve been staring at the same number for ten seconds.”
Shouto huffed, erasing part of his work. “I’m thinking.”
“Think faster.”
Shouto sighed.
He finished answering the problem, then slid the notebook closer to Bakugou to look over it. Before he got the chance, though, a low sound broke through the quiet.
Shouto froze.
Bakugou raised a brow, his pen stilling.
“…Was that your stomach?”
Shouto exhaled slowly through his nose. “No.”
It growled again. Louder this time.
Bakugou snorted. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”
“Shut up.”
“Did you even eat today?”
Shouto didn’t answer, pretending to be busy looking over his work.
“Unbelievable,” Bakugou muttered, shaking his head before tapping the paper again. “This is wrong. Redo it.”
They kept going.
When Shouto’s stomach growled again, Bakugou suddenly flipped the textbook shut with a sharp snap. Shouto looked up questioningly.
“Get up.”
He blinked. “Um. Why?”
“Your stomach’s growling every two minutes. It’s fucking distracting.” The blonde started shoving books into his backpack. Shouto could only watch silently. “Now get the fuck up. We’re getting food.”
They didn’t go far. Bakugou led them out of the library with the same impatient stride he did everything with, hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders set like he was bracing against something.
Shouto followed a step behind, not bothering to ask where they were going.
There was a small ramen place tucked between two campus buildings, the kind that was easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Warm light spilled out onto the sidewalk through fogged up windows, and when Bakugou pushed the door open, the savory smell of broth hit Shouto immediately.
“Sit,” Bakugou said, already heading toward a booth in the back like he’d been here a hundred times.
Shouto slid in across from him, shrugging his bag off his shoulder. The seat was warm, the table a little worn, and the low hum of conversation around them comforting.
A server came by, and Bakugou ordered without even looking at the menu.
“Two tonkotsu. Extra pork. And don’t skimp on it,” he added, like it was a personal threat.
The server nodded quickly and hurried off.
Shouto blinked. “You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”
Bakugou scoffed, leaning back against the booth. “You look like you need actual food, not whatever bullshit you’d order.”
“I don’t order bullshit.”
“You absolutely do.”
Shouto exhaled quietly, but there was no real heat behind it. “…Thanks.”
Bakugou’s eyes flicked up to his for a split second before he looked away again, clicking his tongue. “Don’t make it weird.”
A comfortable silence settled between them. Shouto rested his arms on the table, fingers loosely intertwined, and let himself enjoy the quiet. His body still felt heavy, like sleep was clinging to him, but something eased in his chest the longer he sat there listening to the low murmur of the other patrons.
“You always this bad at taking care of yourself?” Bakugou asked suddenly.
Shouto hummed half heartedly. “I’ve been busy.”
“We’re all busy, dumbass. Doesn’t mean you let yourself rot.”
Shouto shrugged. There wasn’t much he could say to that.
Bakugou watched him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly like he was trying to figure something out, then huffed and looked away. “Tch.”
Their food arrived not long after. The bowls were hot, steam curling up in thick waves. The broth was deep and golden, slices of pork layered neatly on top, soft-boiled egg cut clean in half. Shouto stared at it for a second.
“Eat,” Bakugou said.
Shouto did. The broth was the kind of warm that spread from his chest outward, slow and steady.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he was halfway through the bowl, movements quicker now, less restrained.
Across from him, Bakugou ate just as fast, though somehow still controlled.
“This is really good,” Shouto said after a moment, taking a sip of his water. His bowl was still half full.
Bakugou grunted, wiping a napkin across his face. His lips were red from the spice. “Yeah. I know.”
They finished without much conversation. When they stepped back outside, the air was cooler and the sky darker. Campus was still alive, though, students scattered along walkways, their voices carrying in the distance.
Shouto adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Are we going back to the library?”
Bakugou made a face. “Fuck no. We’re done for today.”
“Oh.”
Something about that sat strangely in Shouto’s chest. He had been bracing himself for another few hours of equations and Bakugou’s sharp voice cutting through his thoughts, for the steady rhythm of problem after problem until his brain felt like it might give out.
He should’ve been glad they were done for the day, but instead, he found himself swallowing down the bitter feeling of disappointment.
They fell into step beside each other, heading back toward the main path—
—and nearly collided with a group coming the opposite way.
“Yo, Bakugou—”
Kirishima’s voice cut off mid-greeting as his eyes flicked between them.
Then he grinned, wide and dangerous.
“Well, well,” he said, dragging it out. “What’s this?”
Ashido popped up beside him, eyes lighting up immediately. “Oh my god.”
Shouto blinked. “Hi.”
Izuku was standing just behind them, gaze darting between Shouto and Bakugou with poorly concealed excitement. “Shouto-kun! Kacchan! What are you guys doing together?”
Bakugou stiffened beside him. “We were studying, idiot,” he snapped. “What the fuck do you think we were doing?”
“This late at night?” Kaminari wiggled his brows. “And now you’re leaving a restaurant together?”
“We just ate,” Shouto said, because it felt like the obvious answer.
“Together,” Ashido echoed, grabbing Kirishima’s arm. “After studying. Alone.”
Bakugou’s face darkened. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”
Kirishima laughed, holding his hands up. “Nothing! Nothing! Just saying, man, we're happy for you."
“The fuck does that mean?” Bakugou demanded. "What's there to be happy for?"
“You know.” Kaminari gestured vaguely between the two of them. “This.”
“There is no ‘this,’” Bakugou grinded out.
Shouto glanced at him. There was a faint flush creeping up his neck, just barely visible under the streetlights.
“Hm,” Shinsou hummed from the back, arms crossed. “You’re awfully defensive for someone who doesn’t care.”
“I’m not defensive,” Bakugou snapped immediately.
“You’re literally yelling,” Ashido pointed out.
“I always yell!”
“Not like this,” Kirishima said, grin widening.
Bakugou looked like he was about two seconds away from exploding.
“What are you guys doing out, anyway?” Shouto interjected, before he actually did explode.
Their friends were enjoying getting a rise out of Bakugou, and if he wasn’t also the butt of the joke, he might’ve found it a little funny, too.
“I was already at Shinsou’s, then Ashido-kun and Kirishima-kun invited us out to eat after class,” Izuku explained. “We would’ve invited you guys but well…” he smiled sheepishly, motioning between the two of them.
Bakugou’s eye twitched. “Fucking Deku,” he snarled.
Shouto watched him for a moment, then, without really thinking about it,
“We should go.”
Bakugou turned to him, like he forgot he was there for a second. The line in his brow softened just a bit.
“Yeah,” he muttered, grabbing his bag strap and jerking his head forward. “We’re leaving.”
“Bye, Shouto-kun! Bye, Kacchan!” Izuku called, smiling brightly, a knowing twinkle in his eye.
Shouto knew him well enough to know that he was scheming, and he shook his head as he matched Bakugou’s pace.
“Have fun!” Ashido added, not even trying to hide it.
“We’re not having fun,” Bakugou barked over his shoulder.
“Looks like you are!” Kaminari shot back.
Bakugou flipped him off without turning around.
“They’re fucking annoying,” Bakugou muttered as they made their way to the direction of Shouto’s apartment.
Shouto hummed. “They like you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like them.”
“That’s not true.”
Bakugou shot him a look. “Don’t start.”
Shouto almost smiled, shaking his head at the blonde.
“What, you got something to say now, too, half and half?” Bakugou rounded on him.
Shouto held his hands up defensively, not able to fight back a slight smile this time. “No.”
“Tch.”
They walked in silence for a bit after that.
The exhaustion of the day had caught up to Shouto, and paired with the warm ramen, he felt ready to fall into bed and sleep for the next 24 hours. He tried not to think about the fact that he had to be up at seven in the morning for his chem lab, and instead, looked over at Bakugou.
The other man was walking silently, the trace of a furrow still on his brow. The night chill had turned his cheeks a muted shade of pink. When he caught Shouto staring, he bristled.
“‘Fuck are you looking at?”
“You,” Shouto said simply.
The blush on Bakugou’s cheeks deepened, and Shouto wasn’t sure it was entirely due to the weather anymore. “Well, fucking stop it. It’s weird.”
Shouto shrugged, turning back to the path in front of them. They kept walking, shoulders brushing once, then again. Neither of them moved away.
When they made it to Shouto’s building, Bakugou stopped and turned to him. It was only then that Shouto realized Bakugou’s apartment was in the other direction.
“Thanks for walking me home.” Shouto adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”
“Wasn’t for you,” Bakugou muttered. “I was already heading this way.”
Shouto glanced down the street behind him—the one that very clearly led in the opposite direction. “…Right.”
Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, well, your face did.”
Shouto hummed softly, like he was considering that, but didn't argue. The lights from the building spilled out onto the sidewalk, catching faintly on Bakugou’s hair, turning the edges of it almost gold. Up close like that, Shouto could still see the lingering flush across his cheeks, the way it hadn’t fully faded.
“You should eat more,” Bakugou said suddenly.
Shouto blinked. “I just did.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m busy,” he mumbled halfheartedly, adjusting the strap of his bag if only to give his hands something to do.
“Yeah, and you look like shit.”
Shouto exhaled quietly. “I’ve looked worse.”
Bakugou’s gaze sharpened slightly, like he was about to argue that, then stopped himself. His jaw shifted.
“Whatever,” he muttered, his voice softer this time.
Another pause. Shouto didn’t move to leave. Neither did Bakugou.
“You got time tomorrow?” Bakugou asked suddenly.
Shouto looked at him. “For studying?”
The blonde scowled. “What else would it be for, dumbass?”
Shouto tilted his head slightly. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Bakugou’s expression tightened immediately. “Don’t be a smartass.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Shouto watched him for a moment, then nodded once. “Yeah. I have time,” he said, even though he didn’t.
Although their tutoring sessions were productive, Shouto had been severely neglecting his other classes. Still, something about Bakugou made it easy for Shouto to shift his schedule around.
Bakugou huffed, like that settled something. “Same place. Don’t be late.”
“I wasn’t late today.”
“Don’t be late tomorrow either.”
Shouto fought an eye roll. “Okay.”
Bakugou lingered for half a second longer, like he was waiting for something else, then turned abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Go inside already,” he threw over his shoulder. “It’s cold.”
Shouto watched him for a moment as he walked away, his figure getting smaller under the dim streetlights.
Then he turned and headed inside. He set his bag down, toeing off his shoes near the door. The exhaustion hit him all at once now, heavier than before, settling deep into his bones.
He changed quickly, barely bothering to turn off the main light in his room before slipping into bed. The sheets were cool against his skin, and for once, his mind didn’t feel like it was racing ahead of him. He exhaled slowly, turning onto his side. Despite the muffled voice trickling through his room from the other side of the wall, sleep came easier than it had in a long time.