Behind That Locked Door

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/24847504.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia
Relationship: Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto
Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto
Additional Tags: Domestic, Established Relationship, Aged-Up Character(s), Arguing,
Fluff, Food, Smut, Porn with Feelings, Making Up
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2020-06-21 Completed: 2020-10-28 Words: 7,550 Chapters:
4/4
 Behind That Locked Door
by SillyMango (orphan_account)

Summary

Bakugou hates the front door to his and Todoroki's apartment.

A fic about arguing and reconciling and other things.

Notes

Fic title is from the song by my favorite Beatle.

So, a little while ago I had a conversation on Twitter about what established tdbk's arguments
and reconciling might look like which led to the creation of this fic! I've been wanting to
write this for a while and then I finally sat down and I wrote the first chapter in one sitting
lmao.

👀
I'm expecting this to only have a handful of chapters. It doesn't earn the explicit rating in the
first chapter, but it will later on (if you know what i mean )

now, read and enjoy!

 Chapter 1

Bakugou swore under his breath as he fought the key into the lock, jiggled the doorknob—
twist, pull, twist, push—then shouldered the door open. Bakugou always braced himself on
the door frame so he wouldn’t stumble when the door finally swung open.

“This door is such shit.”

Misaligned on its hinges. Too-loose doorknob. Some mechanism in the lock kept sticking.
Hideous peeling paint in a sickly blue.

“It’s just a door.” Todoroki sighed behind Bakugou.

Ah. The beginnings of a back-and-forth they had countless times, always the same way. First,
Bakugou fights the door open, swears, and complains. Then, Todoroki sighs and invites
Bakugou to simply accept the door as it is. Because apparently having a less-than-acceptable
door was perfectly acceptable to Todoroki.

The conversation should have been comfortable, for it was familiar. But Bakugou felt
anything but comfortable. The annoyance under his skin had only grown and bubbled all
evening. Crawled up to the back of his neck and took root there. Left him scowling and tense
and—seriously how could Todoroki think the door was anything less than god-awful?

They stepped over the threshold, exchanged their shoes for slippers at the genkan. The door
creaked shut behind them.

“You always say that.” Bakugou said as he shrugged off his coat, hung it on the coat rack.

“Because it’s still true.” Todoroki said as he put his own coat on the rack. He always put his
coat on the wrong hook. Bakugou usually corrected it. Today he simply scowled at coat
smugly hanging from the wrong hook. Maybe Todoroki did it on purpose. That would make
sense.

“The door won’t stop being shit because you keep complaining about it.” Todoroki added.

“Oh?” This was a new addition to the familiar genkan conversation. “So you think the door is
shit?”

Todoroki sighed again. Louder, this time. More exasperated at its edges. “No, I didn’t say
that.”

“No? Why don’t you!” Bakugou gestured at the door in question. “The door is objectively
shit! Just call it shit, already!”

Todoroki dragged a hand over his face the way he did when he had a headache. It had been a
long day. Maybe he wanted Bakugou to back down, turn off the lights and give him a glass of
water and handful of medicine. Too fucking bad. Bakugou had a headache, too. And the day
was only getting longer and Bakugou’s neck was only getting more tense and Todoroki was
only getting more frustrating.

“Why in the world do you need me to agree with you in this. It’s just a fucking door,
Katsuki.”

“It’s a fucking terrible door! We live in an apartment with a terrible door!”

“I don’t care!” Todoroki groaned and threw his hands up. “I don’t care about the door!”

“Aha!” Bakugou jabbed a finger at Todoroki. “So you admit it!”

“What do you mean, I ‘admit’ it? It wasn’t a secret!”

Then Todoroki groaned. Tugged at his own hair with both hands.

Bakugou laughed, loud and harsh. He shook his head to himself as he stomped away into the
kitchen.

“Fucking typical.” Bakugou muttered as he rummaged around in the cabinet for the bag of
coffee. Todoroki must have misplaced it this morning, because of course he did. Bakugou
found the coffee in a cabinet on the opposite side of the kitchen. “Absolutely fucking
typical.”

Bakugou swore in his head at how his hands shook and fumbled with the coffee. It took
entirely too long for him to finally get the coffee brewing. He folded his arms on the counter.
Hung his head. Closed his eyes and breathed.

Bakugou listened to the coffeemaker and lost track of time for a moment or two.

“Katsuki.”

Bakugou jumped out of his skin. Hurled the first thing he could grab at the voice.

Todoroki caught the apple with ease.

Todoroki had sneaked up him. Todoroki never sneaked up on him. He always knocked on a
table or a wall. Or he cleared his throat or tapped his foot or cracked his knuckles. He always
did something. But now Todoroki was standing less than five feet away and hadn’t even
alerted Bakugou to his presence.

Did he do it on purpose?

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Todoroki said as he set the apple down on the counter in the
incorrect spot as if they didn’t have a bowl specifically for fruit.

“I—” Bakugou shook his head as he tried to form words, calm down his heart. “I’m not…”

Todoroki looked at him with that soft pitying look he used when he knew Bakugou was lying
to him. Todoroki could always tell.
“I think we should talk.” Todoroki said.

Bakugou scoffed, put the apple away in the fruit bowl, turned to watch the coffee drip.

“Talk?” Bakugou echoed with a sneer. “Too fucking late. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Bullshit. You aren’t throwing a tantrum because everything is fine.”

“Fuck off.” Bakugou told the coffeepot. “I wanted to talk seven hours ago.”

“Yes, I know.” Todoroki said. “But it—”

“’Wasn’t the right time and place.’” Bakugou mocked with a nasally voice.

“Yes.” Todoroki agreed.

Fucking asshole.

Bakugou threw a glance at Todoroki. “It’s never the right time and place for you.”

Todoroki frowned. “That’s not true.”

“No, no.” Bakugou waved a hand quickly. “You’re right. The time and place is days after the
fact and behind closed doors. I get it.”

The coffee finished brewing. Bakugou snatched the pot, poured himself a cup.

“But it’s not my fucking problem you’re not man enough to call me stupid in front of our
coworkers.” Bakugou muttered as he left for the table. He yanked back a chair, sat down
heavily. Todoroki followed close behind.

“You aren’t being fair—”

“Fair?!”

“—I don’t think you’re stupid!”

“You’ve been treating me like you—”

“Oh, come on!” Todoroki pleaded. His tone of voice sent Bakugou looking up to meet his
eyes. Todoroki looked tired. Desperate. His hands gripped the back of a chair tightly.

“Stop telling me what I think.” Todoroki said. “I don’t think you’re stupid. And I’m not going
to argue with you in front of coworkers—”

“Why not?” Bakugou asked over his coffee. It tasted like shit. Fitting.

“It’s disrespectful.”

Bakugou nearly spat out his coffee. “Disrespectful? To who?”

“To you!” Todoroki let go of the chair, gestured at Bakugou wildly. “It’s disrespectful to you.
And it’s disrespectful to this relationship. And I’m not going to do it.”

Bakugou paused. Frowned. Set down his coffee.

Todoroki sighed. Sat down next to Bakugou at the table.

“So you think giving me the silent treatment all day long was more respectful?” Bakugou
asked, eyes fixed on the table.

“I—I did not—”

Bakugou’s hands clenched into fists on the table. His nails dug into his palms. He forced
himself to stare Todoroki dead in the eyes, if only to see if Todoroki would look away.

“You wouldn’t speak to me.” Bakugou said. “You wouldn’t even look at me.”

Todoroki hadn’t even…

In the car, Todoroki normally put his hand in Bakugou’s. Or on Bakugou’s shoulder or the
back of his neck or his lap. Todoroki hadn’t even done that.

“I thought that talking would have just led to… this.” Todoroki gestured between the two of
them. “And I didn’t want that to happen.”

“Outside of the right time and place, you mean.”

Todoroki hesitated, nodded.

“So you just ignored me for hours, huh?” Bakugou scoffed. He stopped clenching his hands
so tightly. Let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. Picked up his coffee. Sipped it.
“Real damn mature, Shouto.”

Todoroki groaned. Bakugou watched as Todoroki put his elbows on the table and his head in
his hands. Bakugou forced more tension out of his own shoulders. Pushed the harshness out
of his words, too.

“You could have just told me what you thought from the beginning.” Bakugou said softly.
“Then it wouldn’t have turned into this whole fucking thing.”

“I tried.” Todoroki muttered into his hands. His voice was muffled by his palms.

“But then you shut down.”

Todoroki nodded into his palms.

“I don’t… I don’t like being mad.” Todoroki said softly. He dropped his hands from his face.
His eyes were on the table but he seemed far away.

“Are you mad?”

“No… I mean… I don’t know.”

“Were you mad before? At the office?”

“I don’t think so.” Todoroki shook his head. “But…”

“What?”

“When you try to get me to argue… I…” Todoroki trailed off for a moment. His eyes moved
from the table to the wall. He seemed even further away. “It’s like with the front door. You
hate the door. And I feel like you want me to hate the door, too. But I don’t.”

Oh.

Bakugou set down his coffee.

“I just want to know what you actually think.”

Todoroki laughed lightly. “About the door?”

“Sure.”

Todoroki shook his head, but he was looking at Bakugou again. A ghost of a smile on his
face.

“Why does it matter?”

“I wanna know.”

Todoroki shrugged. “It’s so inconsequential. It’s just a door. Why does it matter what I—”

“I just wanna know.”

Todoroki paused, then. A curious expression took over his face. “Why?”

“I really gotta spell it out for you, huh. Because I care about what you think, idiot.” Bakugou
pointed in the direction of the front door. “Now tell me exactly what you think about the
door.”

“I like it, okay!” Todoroki threw his hands up in exasperation. “I like the door. I like that the
door sucks. I like that it’s ugly and that the paint is peeling off. And I like that it makes weird
noises and takes too long to open and that the numbers fell off the day we moved in.”

“Huh.”

Todoroki crossed his arms, looked away from Bakugou.

“You have terrible taste in doors.” Bakugou laughed.

“It’s not that.” Todoroki said softly. “I like it because it’s ours. It’s our shitty door and I like
it. And I don’t like that…”
“That I hate it.” Bakugou finished for him.

Todoroki nodded.

“You could have just told me that.”

“But it’s stupid.”

“I want to hear your stupid thoughts.”

Todoroki’s mouth twisted into a small smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Todoroki sighed, stretched his arms over his head. Bakugou winced as Todoroki’s back
cracked loudly.

“What were we even supposed to be arguing about?” Todoroki asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does—”

“Yeah, yeah. But I’ve got a fucking headache, right now. We can revisit it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Todoroki said as he dropped his arms. “Actually, yeah, I have a headache, too.”

Bakugou stood up from the table. Swore in his mind at how his brain throbbed and stomach
ached. It had been too long since dinner.

“I’m gonna make food.” Bakugou said. “Do you want some?”

“Yeah, that would be lovely.”

But before Bakugou could step away from the table, Todoroki grabbed Bakugou by the
sleeve. Bakugou paused. Leaned down like Todoroki wanted. Kissed Todoroki on the
forehead. Todoroki closed his eyes and sighed.

Todoroki’s skin was too warm to the touch. Bakugou made a mental note to get Todoroki the
headache medicine so he could have it with food—that way, it wouldn’t upset his stomach.

“Do you need help cooking?” Todoroki asked.

Bakugou almost laughed, but stopped himself. Of course, he wouldn’t need help. But he
suspected that Todoroki meant something slightly different. Todoroki wanted to participate.
He wanted to ease some of Bakugou’s burden, even if Bakugou didn’t consider it such.

Bakugou understood that.

So, instead of reflexively taking offense, he considered what he could make that could use a
second pair of hands.
“Yeah, you can chop the vegetables.” Bakugou said.

Todoroki’s knife-skills had improved with time and Bakugou’s tutelage, but he was still far
from as skilled as Bakugou was. The vegetables would surely end up unevenly cubed instead
of finely chopped.

But Todoroki smiled at the suggestion and said, “Of course.”

And Bakugou would appreciate the company, so Bakugou would tolerate the shameful
vegetable chunks.

He kissed Todoroki’s forehead again just to see Todoroki’s smile widen.

“Come on, then.”

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Bet you thought I had forgotten about this fic, huh???

NOPE! I've just got like... a billion other fics I'm working on right now. Updates for this
will likely stay sporadic. But there's really not going to be a lot of chapters, either.

Anyway, here's more of tdbk domestic arguing and reconciling and fluff and such.

The fic still doesn't earn the explicit rating in this chapter. But it will in a future chapter!!

Read and enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

“Katsuki?” a voice—soft and drowsy—cut through the last of Bakugou’s dreams.

Bakugou cracked one eye open. “Yeah?”

Todoroki lay curled on his side, facing Bakugou. His hair, slightly tousled from sleep, flowed
over his pillow and glowed in the morning light filtering in from the bedroom window.
Breathtakingly gorgeous. Bakugou might as well have been staring at an underwear model.
Though—a glance down confirmed—Todoroki currently wore gaudy neon pink boxers that
did not belong on any billboard ad Bakugou cared to see.

“Should we go in to work today?”

Bakugou frowned as best he could with his face smushed into his pillow.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” Bakugou asked. His pillow muffled his words, but
Todoroki’s frown indicated he understood.

“It’s the weekend,” Todoroki said as if that explained anything at all.

“And?”

Bakugou rolled over in bed. He groaned at the clock on the nightstand. Why couldn’t
Todoroki have waited another half-hour before asking stupid questions?

Bakugou pulled the covers up tighter around himself.

“We work weekends.” Bakugou mumbled into the comforter. He let his eyes fall close, gave
himself over to sleep’s pull.
“But we don’t have to work weekends. We could take weekends off—or at least this one. I
mean, it’s our agency. We own it. We could do whatever—”

“Yeah, it’s our agency.” Bakugou shoved the covers off of himself. He gave up on sleep. He
sat up in bed. He turned to face Todoroki with a huff. “That’s exactly why we work
weekends.”

Todoroki pouted.

The audacity.

For Todoroki to act like Bakugou had canceled a vacation when Bakugou simply stated the
fact that they don’t get to have vacations in the first place? Unbelievable.

“What’s going on, huh? Where is this coming from?”

Todoroki broke their shared gaze, diverted his eyes to Bakugou’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to fight.”

Bakugou jabbed a finger at Todoroki. “We aren’t fighting.”

“You’re acting like we are—”

“I am not—”

“—But I meant at the office. I don’t want to fight at the office.”

“Oh so you just want to avoid work entirely?” Bakugou shook his head. “I’m not doing that.
I’m going in today. Hell, I’ll even go in early since you don’t want to work. I’ll pick up the
slack.”

Bakugou swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Why are you acting like we’re fighting?” Todoroki asked.

Bakugou froze.

Todoroki had asked with a voice so soft that it took a moment for Bakugou to understand
what Todoroki had said. When he finally did understand…

“What?” Bakugou turned to face Todoroki. “I… I’m not. Why do you keep saying that?”

Todoroki’s eyes remained fixed on Bakugou’s shoulder. He said nothing.

“We didn’t even fight at work yesterday.” Bakugou added. He had enough sense and tact to
leave ‘because you shut down’ unspoken. Todoroki looked broken up enough inside already.
Bakugou hated seeing it.

“Right,” Todoroki said, voice ever so quiet. “You’re right.”

Bakugou watched as Todoroki’s eyes began to soften. Dullen.

Shit.

Bakugou slapped a hand on his pillow—just hard enough to make a sound. Enough to startle
Todoroki and shake some light back into his eyes.

“Talk to me.”

“Hm?”

“You’re shutting down. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

A corner of Todoroki’s mouth tugged upwards in an almost-smile.

“Anything?” Todoroki echoed, amusement in his voice.

Bakugou opened and closed his mouth a few times as he struggled to pick something to talk
about. He thought about last night.

“The door.” Bakugou found himself saying. “Talk to me about the door.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Bakugou didn’t know why he had said the door, but he chose to stick by it.

Todoroki’s almost-smile slid into a nearly-smile.

“Okay.”

Bakugou lay back down in bed. He listened to Todoroki talk about the door.

And, as it turned out, Todoroki had a lot to say.

Todoroki liked the sickly blue paint—though Bakugou couldn’t imagine why. Todoroki
wanted to touch it up with a new coat in the same color since the current coat was peeling off.

“We could call maintenance,” Bakugou suggested.

But Todoroki wanted to paint the door himself. It was something he had been thinking about
for months. Several times, he had been close to calling the landlord to see if he was allowed
to. But he always stopped himself.

“Why?” Bakugou asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“We could call today.”

“It’s the weekend. The office is closed.”

“Then leave a message.”

Todoroki hummed to himself, as if he was considering it. He turned his head and looked at
the ceiling.

“It’s stupid, though,” Todoroki said after a moment.

“No, it’s not.”

Hell, a new coat of paint might go a long way towards Bakugou hating the door less. But
Bakugou kept that to himself.

Bakugou watched as Todoroki’s smile faded. The spark in his eyes faded, too.

Bakugou put a hand on Todoroki’s chest.

“Why do you always do that?” Bakugou asked.

“Hm?”

“You say the shit you want to do and then you stop yourself from doing it. You just said you
want to paint the door and now you’re pouting because you called it stupid and now you’re
not going to paint it. That’s stupid.”

Todoroki hummed again. One of his hands reached up to cover Bakugou’s hand on his chest.
Todoroki’s fingers traced circles into Bakugou’s skin.

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” Todoroki asked in a whisper.
“You know me. You know everything about me. Yet…”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes at Todoroki. “What.”

“You act like it should be… so easy to do certain things. But… I…” Todoroki trailed off.

“You make shit too complicated.”

“Probably.”

Todoroki still watched the ceiling, spark still absent from his eyes.

Damn it.

Bakugou always made shit worse. Even first thing in the morning.
The clock screamed its alarm. Bakugou winced. He flopped over in bed and slapped the
alarm off.

Time to start the day.

The bedsheets rustled as Todoroki sat up in bed.

“Let’s… not go in today,” Bakugou said with a sigh.

“Really?”

Bakugou turned to face him. Todoroki was half out of the bed, already.

“Yeah.”

Todoroki frowned. He seemed doubtful. Suspicious, even.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“20 minutes ago you said we shouldn’t—”

“I changed my mind, okay? Let’s take today off. When was the last time we spent a Saturday
at home?”

“4 months.”

Somehow Bakugou suspected that Todoroki knew the exact date, too. Todoroki tracked shit
like that.

“Okay, so let’s take today off.”

“And do what?”

“Whatever the fuck we want. What do you want to do?”

“I…” Todoroki started then paused. His frown deepened. “I don’t know.”

Bakugou dragged a hand across his face and swore under his breath. Encouraging Todoroki
to have fun often felt like trying to detach a stubborn kitten’s claws from your pant leg.

Bakugou considered, briefly, acknowledging Todoroki’s look of blank despair. He ultimately

decided against it.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast,” Bakugou grumbled and pulled himself out of bed in search
of clothes.

In the kitchen, Bakugou set the coffee to drip. Then he watched a handful of eggs fry in a
pan. Todoroki shuffled into kitchen by the time Bakugou flipped the eggs over.

“Do you want toast?” Bakugou asked, already reaching for the bread.
“No, thank you.”

Bakugou paused. His fingers twitched over the loaf.

What?

Todoroki always said ‘yes’ to toast when Bakugou asked.

Was this a trick?

Bakugou yanked open the bag, snatched two slices of bread, and stuffed them in the toaster.

Todoroki was going to get his fucking toast. Todoroki always said ‘yes’ to toast.

Bakugou slammed the lever down on the toaster.

“Katsuki, I said I didn’t—”

“Maybe it’s for me, huh? Maybe I fucking want toast.”

“You never eat toast—”

“Well, I can change my mind about shit, too, okay!”

Todoroki fell silent.

Bakugou carefully plated the eggs. Covered them with salt and pepper and spring onion.
Layered them with cheese. The spicy one for himself. The plain boring shit for Todoroki.

Bakugou pulled down two coffee mugs from the cabinet. The coffee finished brewing by the
time Bakugou finished dumping the coffee creamer into Todoroki’s mug. The ratio of
creamer to coffee that Todoroki drank was truly horrifying. Todoroki might as well just skip a
step and drink straight from the bottle of coffee creamer and call it a day.

The toast popped up from the toaster by the time Bakugou finished pouring the coffee into
each of their mugs. Bakugou placed a piece of toast on both plates.

Bakugou picked up the two plates in one hand and the two coffee mugs in his other hand. He
set the table. One plate of boring eggs with toast, served with creamer and a dash coffee. One
plate of good eggs with toast, served with of coffee as it was meant to be drunk.

“Katsuki,” Todoroki muttered to his plate, “I said I didn’t want toast.”

Bakugou plopped down into his chair next to Todoroki’s at the table.

“You always say ‘yes’ to toast.”

“I didn’t want toast today.”

“But—”
Todoroki shook his head and hugged himself lightly. He looked away from Bakugou.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Bakugou asked.

“With me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“What's going on with you?” Todoroki countered back, eyes sharp, words sharper. “You keep
acting like we’re arguing and then you say we aren’t. I can’t keep track. Are we arguing
about toast or not?”

“No.”

“There you go, again. Then why the fuck did you make me toast when I didn’t want it like
you were trying to make a point?”

“How the hell am I the bad guy, here? I’ll eat the fucking toast!” Bakugou snatched the toast
from Todoroki’s plate and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth.

“Are you fucking happy, now?” Bakugou asked around his mouthful.

“No,” Todoroki answered.

Fuck.

Bakugou swallowed. Painfully. He should have chewed his food more. He chased the toast
down with a swig of coffee. He promptly burnt his tongue.

FUCK.

Bakugou slammed his mug back on the table. Coffee splattered out of his mug and onto his
hand and the table. It burnt his hand and left a puddle on the table.

FUCK.

“I can’t keep track, either, okay!” Katsuki buried his head in his hands. He tore at his hair. “I
don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if I did something wrong or not. And I know I’m
usually the one fucking things up. And yeah, a lot of times it’s on purpose. But I’m… I’m not
trying to fuck things up right now. I don’t want to fuck things up. I’m just so fucking—”

Bakugou bit his burnt tongue to stop the flow of nonsense. He dug his fingernails into his
scalp.

Todoroki said nothing.

Bakugou rocked back and forth. He clenched his eyes shut.

Why wasn’t Todoroki saying anything?

Todoroki stayed silent.

Bakugou’s hands began shaking against his skull.

Why wasn't Todoroki saying anything?

“Katsuki—”

“What?!” Bakugou snapped. He snapped his head up at Todoroki.

Todoroki’s eyes shone. Wet.

Bakugou was always making things worse.

“What’s going on with you?” Todoroki asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Bakugou said. Shaking head, shaking voice. “I don’t fucking know. I’m just
so… I’m just so fucking tired.”

Todoroki placed a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. Bakugou hadn’t even noticed he had still
been rocking back and forth until Todoroki’s touch stopped him.

“Come here,” Todoroki pulled at Bakugou’s arm lightly. “Come on.”

Bakugou let himself be guided up out of his chair. Todoroki pulled Bakugou to him.

Bakugou found himself sitting on Todoroki’s lap. Todoroki wrapped his arms around
Bakugou tightly and pulled him close. Todoroki rested his forehead against Bakugou’s
clavicle.

They said nothing for a long time.

Bakugou closed his eyes and listened to Todoroki’s breathing.

Then, Bakugou laughed.

His laughter surprised him. He wasn’t even sure where it came from.

“What’s so funny?” Todoroki asked, voice muffled against Bakugou’s chest.

“I—” Bakugou shook his head as he tried to organize his thoughts. “I don’t know. I… I guess
—” Bakugou chuckled again “—I guess it’s just stupid.”

“What is?”

“We used to do this all the time.”

“Argue about toast?”

“No, no,” Bakugou said quickly. “This. We used to do this all the time.”

“Oh,” Todoroki said, catching on. “When did we stop?”

Bakugou tried to remember the last time Todoroki had held him like this.

His mind drew a blank.

“I don’t know.”

Bakugou wrapped his arms around Todoroki. He squeezed Todoroki to himself tightly.

“I fucking missed it, though.”

 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Welcome back!!! Thank you for your patience!

We're nearing the end of this fic!! I'm thinking maybe only one or two more chapters
after this one.

Read and enjoy and please let me know your thoughts! Oh, and there's smut in this one!

Todoroki let him go a small quiet eternity later. Mostly because Bakugou’s stomach growled
with hunger and the eggs were getting cold.

They ate in silence.

Then, when Todoroki finished his breakfast, he said, “Let’s start this morning over.”

Bakugou paused, hesitating in bringing the last of the fried egg to his mouth.

“Huh?”

The fuck was he talking about?

“Let’s start over,” Todoroki repeated as if that explained anything at all.

Bakugou popped the last of his fried egg into his mouth.

“Like go back to bed and pretend to wake up again?” Bakugou asked around his mouthful.

Todoroki nodded. “Precisely.”

“I’m not making breakfast again.”

“That’s fine.”

Bakugou sipped the last of his coffee. He considered the suggestion. Truthfully, it sounded
like a huge goddamn waste of time. But, then again, they had time enough to spare today. It
was their day off. And Todoroki looked like he had a plan. Something small and bright and
mischievous sparked behind Todoroki’s eyes.

“Okay,” Bakugou agreed, “let’s start over.”

Bakugou would agree to anything to keep that look in Todoroki’s eyes.

Climbing back under the bed covers felt about as strange as Bakugou had expected it to. He
wasn’t sure how far he was supposed to take this ‘starting over’ thing. Was he supposed to
fall back asleep? Reset the alarm on the clock?

Todoroki didn’t provide much in the way of guidance. He lay curled on his side, facing away
from Bakugou.

At a complete loss as to what to do next, Bakugou started to feel like an utter dipshit.

“What now?” Bakugou whispered. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering.

“Shhh,” Todoroki hushed him.

“This was your fucking plan—” Bakugou hissed at the back of Todoroki’s head.

Todoroki held up a finger to silence Bakugou.

“I’m asleep,” Todoroki whispered.

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Pretend the alarm is going off.”

Ah. Of course.

Bakugou rolled over in bed. He stared at the alarm clock.

He breathed in deeply. Closed his eyes. Exhaled.

Then, he forced himself to say the utterly ridiculous, “Beep, beep, beep.”

Then he opened his eyes and smacked the top of the nightstand. There. Alarm on. Alarm off.

Bakugou rolled back over in bed. Todoroki was facing him, now. Smiling.

“Good morning, Katsuki,” Todoroki said softly.

“Good morning.”

This was so fucking stupid .

“I love you,” Todoroki said.

Breath caught in Bakugou’s throat.

What?

Bakugou’s mouth opened, but no sound left him. What the fuck was he supposed to—

“I love you,” Todoroki said again, louder this time. Firmer. More sure.
“I…I—” Bakugou stammered uselessly. He wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say.
Fucking Todoroki…

Todoroki placed a hand on Bakugou’s jaw, cupping his face gently.

“I love you,” Todoroki said again, this time a whisper. Like he was sharing a secret.

Todoroki’s eyes flicked back and forth over Bakugou’s face, looking for something.
Todoroki’s thumb rubbed circles into Bakugou’s cheek.

And, still, Bakugou’s mouth opened and closed over and over. And, still, he had no idea what
to say.

“And I want to take today off,” Todoroki said.

“Okay,” Bakugou managed to croak out. “Okay, we can do that.”

“And I want to paint the door,” Todoroki added.

Bakugou was surprised into laughter, then.

“Okay,” Bakugou chuckled. “Okay, yeah. We can paint the door.”

Todoroki dove forward and captured Bakugou’s mouth in his, stealing the breath right out of
Bakugou’s lungs.

“I love you,” Todoroki breathed against Bakugou’s lips. “I love you.”

“You’re gonna— mmph —” Bakugou tried to say in between kisses. “You’re gonna wear it
out if you keep repeating it like that.”

“Fuck off,” Todoroki laughed, playful, “no I’m not.”

Then, Todoroki was climbing on top of Bakugou, hovering over him. Todoroki’s other hand
rose to cup Bakugou’s other cheek, as well. Then, Todoroki recaptured Bakugou’s mouth in a
deep, dizzying, kiss.

Love. Bakugou’s mind ran wild. Love? Since when did Todoroki start throwing around a
word like ‘love’ so casually? So easily?

Eventually, they tore themselves away from the kiss. Todoroki continued to trail kisses down
Bakugou’s neck, though, even as Todoroki panted lightly for breath.

Bakugou fixed his eyes to the ceiling. His mind ran and ran. This wasn’t at all what he had
expected when he had agreed to start the morning over.

“I want to fuck you, too,” Todoroki whispered against Bakugou’s neck, his breath—cold,
much too cold—sending goosebumps all along the delicate skin there.

Bakugou shivered.
“When was the last time we—” Todoroki started.

Bakugou raised a hand to cup the back of Todoroki’s head. His fingers curled and tightened
in Todoroki’s hair.

Months, Bakugou’s mind readily supplied as an answer. Months. Easily.

“Too fucking long,” Bakugou said.

Todoroki placed a kiss on the side of Bakugou’s neck. Bakugou shivered again. He tightened
his grip on Todoroki’s hair, tugged his head back so Bakugou could look at him properly.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m saying what I want,” Todoroki said simply. Then, immediately, a hesitant, uncertain
expression passed over his face. “Is… is that—”

“You’re fine,” Bakugou assured him. “It’s fine.”

The hesitance in Todoroki’s expression passed. He smiled, if only a little bit. “Okay.”

Bakugou pulled Todoroki’s head down so he could kiss that damn smile off Todoroki’s face.
He wrapped his legs around Todoroki’s back for good measure, too. Pulled Todoroki down
close. Rolled his hips up, let Todoroki feel him—

Todoroki gasped into Bakugou’s mouth at the contact. Bakugou couldn’t help but grin.
Bakugou rolled his hips harder, angling them just right so that—

Todoroki broke the kiss, his head falling to rest next to Bakugou’s on the pillow. Bakugou
rolled his hips even harder. Todoroki made a low, strangled, sound at the back of his throat.
Bakugou relished it.

Then, suddenly, there were hands on Bakugou’s ass, encouraging his hips to keep their slow,
lazy, delicious rolling against Todoroki. Then, Todoroki cocked his hips down and forward
and— goddamn —the feeling, the friction, the fantastic pressure of it.

Bakugou threw his head back and keened.

“Oh fuck—” Bakugou swore. Then he cut himself off by biting on his lower lip as Todoroki
pressed against him even harder.

And Todoroki was already so hard against him—he could feel it through his sweatpants. And
Bakugou felt himself leaking, already.

This was going to take an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Todoroki seemed to reach that same conclusion. The hands on Bakugou’s ass moved to his
hips, holding him down. Todoroki pulled away.
Bakugou panted for breath. His quivering legs fell from their vice-like hold around
Todoroki’s waist.

Todoroki huffed a small and airy laugh, his breath—warm, now, too warm—on Bakugou’s
cheek.

“Need to slow down,” Todoroki said.

“Yeah,” Bakugou breathed out, nodding quickly, “yeah, yeah.”

Todoroki flopped next to Bakugou on the bed, joining him in staring up at the ceiling.

Bakugou was so hard it hurt.

“Why has it been so long?” Todoroki asked.

Bakugou frowned to himself. He couldn’t think of a good enough answer. A good enough
reason.

“Guess we were tired,” Bakugou offered. “Got busy.”

It all seemed so silly, now.

Todoroki placed a hand on top of Bakugou’s.

“I still… wanted to,” Todoroki said, voice nearly a whisper, “even though we weren’t . I still
wanted to.”

Bakugou swallowed around a painful lump in his throat.

“I didn’t know,” Bakugou heard himself say. His voice didn’t sound very much like his. Too
small and weak and shaky and full of months and months’ worth of I didn’t know.

Todoroki’s hand tightened on Bakugou’s.

“I’m sorry,” Todoroki whispered.

“I didn’t know,” Bakugou heard himself say again, his voice still hideously, pathetically,
small and shaking. “I didn’t know you still wanted to.”

Bakugou turned his hand until his and Todoroki’s fingers could entwine. He squeezed
Todoroki’s hand back tightly. He blinked quickly as the ceiling above him turned watery and
bleary.

“I…” Bakugou started, then stopped.

I missed being touched by you , was what his mind wanted him to say. He could see the
words perfectly in his mind. They sat on his tongue, nearly formed, ready to spill out.

But Bakugou couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t bear to hear himself sound even
more pathetic than he was already being.
“I love you,” Todoroki whispered.

Bakugou surprised himself by laughing, then. A short sudden bark of a laugh. The laughter
pushed the tears out, pushing them over the edge until they spilled.

“Why do you keep saying that? ” Bakugou asked, incredulous. He dragged the back of his
free hand across his eyes.

“I’ve wanted to say it for years.”

“And, what, now you’re not going to stop saying it?”

Todoroki squeezed Bakugou’s hand in his so tightly it started to hurt.

“I don’t want to stop saying it,” Todoroki said.

Bakugou turned to face him. Todoroki was looking right back at him. Bakugou could spot the
exact moment that Todoroki noticed the wetness on Bakugou’s cheeks. Todoroki’s eyes
widened. Then, his free hand rose to Bakugou’s face, cupping his jaw gently.

“Do you want me to stop saying it?” Todoroki asked, his long delicate fingers gently wiping
away the wetness on Bakugou’s cheeks.

“I don’t know,” Bakugou confessed. “It’s just… it’s a lot.”

Todoroki’s fingers kept wiping at Bakugou’s cheeks. His damn eyes refused to dry up.

“Okay,” Todoroki said. “I can… slow down with it if you want.”

Bakugou nodded.

“Okay.”

Bakugou leaned forward to kiss him. Todoroki sighed softly, which Bakugou swallowed as
he deepened the kiss. Todoroki all but shuddered under him when Bakugou slid his tongue
into Todoroki’s mouth, sliding against Todoroki’s.

Then, everything sped up. Bakugou threw a leg over Todoroki’s hip, hooking him, pulling
him. Then, they were rolling and grinding against each other again. And there were hands on
Bakugou’s ass again, gripping tight, guiding and pushing Bakugou’s hips to roll just how
Todoroki wanted them to. Bakugou clenched his eyes shut. His thighs shook. His breathing
turned shallow and fast.

He wasn’t going to last.

Bakugou tapped on Todoroki’s arm quickly. “Slow down,” Bakugou whispered, “slow
down.”

Todoroki did.
But then his hands wandered up to the hem of Bakugou’s sweatpants. His fingers slipped
inside his pants. And then his boxers. Bakugou shivered as Todoroki’s hands began to grope
and fondle, pushing and pulling. Bakugou’s face warmed up under the attention. Todoroki
always was an ass man. He’d easily spend hours playing with Bakugou’s ass if Bakugou let
him.

But they probably didn’t have hours. Truthfully, Bakugou doubted he could last longer than a
few more minutes.

Bakugou pulled his sweats and boxers down with one hand—Todoroki helped—until his
cock sprung free. Then they both tugged down Todoroki’s pants and underwear.

Bakugou hissed when Todoroki pressed his cock next to Bakugou’s. A warm hand grasped
both their cocks at once. Bakugou’s hand clasped Todoroki’s shoulder and held on.

They didn’t use lube. But Bakugou was wet enough—they were both wet enough—that there
was no friction. Just a delicious wet slide against one another as Todoroki worked their cocks
together, slow and steady.

Bakugou hissed and moaned all kinds of strangled curses and praises.

“Fuck, fuck, ” Bakugou swore, “fuck , I’ve missed this, I—”

Todoroki silenced him with a deep kiss.

Bakugou’s grip on Todoroki’s shoulder turned vicious—he was almost certainly leaving
bruises, but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t focus. He could hardly breathe.

Then he saw white. He groaned into Todoroki’s mouth as his body was pulled taut, all
muscles tightening, shaking.

Todoroki kept pumping Bakugou steadily through his orgasm, Bakugou spilling between
them, leaving everything wetter. Todoroki released Bakugou’s cock.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Bakugou chanted against Todoroki’s mouth.

A wet slapping sound. Todoroki working his own cock—covered with Bakugou’s come ,
Bakugou’s mind helpfully supplied. Bakugou’s head spun. He forced his eyes open, craning
his head down so he could watch.

“Come on, Shouto,” Bakugou hissed. “I want to see you—”

Then, Todoroki let out a wonderful, choked, groan, low in the back of his throat. And then he
was coming.

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Bakugou wrapped his arms around Todoroki and pulled him in close. He didn’t care about the
mess between them—that was sure to turn rather gross rather shortly—he just wanted to hold
Todoroki to him as tightly as possible.
Todoroki’s breathing was ragged and his arms weak as he tried to reciprocate the embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” Bakugou whispered into Todoroki’s hair, “I’ve missed so fucking much.”

And maybe it was ridiculous to have missed someone so badly when they hadn’t even gone
anywhere. Todoroki was always right there, an arm’s length away.

But, holding Todoroki in his arms, it still felt like a homecoming.

Welcome home.

Long time no see.

I’ve missed you.

I’ve missed you so much.

Please don’t leave for so long, next time.

It didn’t make sense. None of that made sense. They hadn't gone anywhere. They had always
been right here.

But it appeared that Todoroki understood, for he whispered against Bakugou’s chest, “I’ve
missed you, too.”
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

Surprise! The last chapter!!

It's shorter than the other chapters but I'm proud of it.

Read and enjoy and please let me know you thoughts!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

At some point between the mess between them turning from ‘pretty gross’ to ‘really fucking
gross,’ Todoroki suggested they take a shower.

Bakugou agreed.

Todoroki let Bakugou set the temperature of the water. Bakugou always got to set to the
temperature. Because Todoroki was usually at the ‘perfect temperature’ himself and could
never be trusted to understand what the correct temperature for the water was.

Bakugou busied himself with fiddling with the shower knobs while Todoroki hung back and
waited for Bakugou to give the ‘all clear.’ Bakugou has opened his mouth to do just that,
when, suddenly, he paused.

Todoroki noticed Bakugou’s hesitation.

“What is it?” Todoroki asked.

“Nothing,” Bakugou answered quickly. “Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Water’s fine.”

And the water was fine. Because Todoroki let Bakugou set the temperature. Todoroki always
let Bakugou set the temperature. And Todoroki let Bakugou set the temperature again today.

Todoroki remembered.

Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say that Todoroki had never forgotten.

Why was Bakugou so surprised by this? Why would he have expected otherwise?

Bakugou found himself standing frozen under the just-hot-enough water. He couldn’t bring
himself to move, to grab the shampoo or soap and start bathing himself.

Two careful hands landed on Bakugou’s shoulders from behind. Gentle. Firm. Reassuring.

Always there.
“Are you alright?” Todoroki asked.

“Yeah,” Bakugou answered. He raised a hand, covered the top of one of Todoroki’s hands
with his own. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay,” Todoroki said. He placed a kiss on the side of Bakugou’s neck. Bakugou shivered
under the contact.

“Thank you,” Bakugou said.

A pause. Another kiss to Bakugou’s neck. Then, Todoroki asked, “For what?”

Everything, Bakugou thought. But he wasn’t sure how to say that. He wasn’t sure he could.

“For putting up with me,” Bakugou said, “and all my bullshit.”

Another kiss to Bakugou’s neck--but on the other side, now.

“You put up with me and mine,” Todoroki countered. His breath tickled Bakugou’s ear.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed. “Yeah, I fucking do.”

Bakugou watched the water pattering, puddling, then swirling away down the drain. Gone,
forgotten, immediately replaced.

Another kiss to Bakugou’s neck. Bakugou squeezed Todoroki’s hand tightly.

“Let’s paint the door today,” Bakugou said.

“Oh?”

Todoroki even sounded surprised.

Bakugou relished the fact he could still surprise Todoroki, even after all this time.

“Yeah.”

“But we haven’t called the landlord--”

“Fuck the landlord,” Bakugou interjected. “We’re adding value to this place. He’ll thank us.
We’ll go to the store today and pick up paint.”

And maybe a new lock, too, Bakugou thought. He had always hated how the lock stuck.

“Let’s put the numbers back on,” Todoroki suggested.

The numbers had fallen off the day they moved in. Bakugou had opened the door ‘too
aggressively’ according to Todoroki. In defending himself, Bakugou had always pointed out
the fact the numbers had been taped into place.

Taped. What an unbelievably shitty door.

Todoroki moved his hands away from Bakugou’s shoulder. He grabbed the shampoo. He
gently guided Bakugou’s head under the spray of the showerhead. He kept talking.

“We could put our names on the door, too.”

He was starting to sound excited.

Bakugou scoffed. “Like a family nameplate?”

“I suppose.”

“We’re--” Bakugou started to say. He stopped himself. He was going to say, ‘we’re not a
family.’

But that wasn’t true.

Todoroki began lathering shampoo into Bakugou’s hair, his fingers massaging his scalp.
Gentle. Firm. Reassuring. Always there.

Because this is what they always did. They hadn’t forgotten. They hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Yeah,” Bakugou found himself saying. “Yeah, let’s put our names on it.”

Bakugou smiled at the shampoo suds floating and swirling away.

They started with Bakugou changing the lock. He laughed maniacally as he twisted the new
key into the new lock back and forth back and forth back and forth.

“LOOK AT THIS LOCK!” Bakugou boomed, his laughter barely contained as he locked and
unlocked the door over and over and over. “LOOK AT IT!”

The lock didn’t stick a single time.

“I’m looking,” Todoroki sighed. “Katsuki, stop yelling, you’re going to scare the--”

“LOOK AT IT!”

Next was the paint.

Scraping off the old peeling paint had felt exactly as satisfying as Bakugou had expected it to.
And, it turns out the blue wasn’t so sickly when it was applied in fresh even coats. Bakugou
didn’t hate it. And Todoroki seemed to love it.

“Ah,” Todoroki had remarked as he first dragged his paintbrush against the door, “what a
lovely color.”

Bakugou assessed the stroke of fresh blue on the wood.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed.

“I think it might be my favorite,” Todoroki sighed.

Todoroki was still learning what his ‘favorites’ were. Sometimes it seemed less like Todoroki
was learning what his favorites were and more that he was learning he was allowed to have a
favorite at all.

Bakugou treasured every moment Todoroki discovered and named a new favorite. How
wonderful. How precious. How rare.

“I’m glad,” Bakugou said. Because he was.

Then it was time for the numbers.

Todoroki had kept the original numbers. He had placed them on the highest shelf of the linen
closet. Bakugou had spotted the numbers there a couple of times. And Bakugou had asked
Todoroki each time, exasperated, why he had never thrown the numbers out like Bakugou
had told him to.

They were trash, Bakugou had said. Garbage.

Now, however, seeing Todoroki cradle the numbers in his arms with such reverence,
Bakugou was grateful Todoroki had insisted on keeping them.

Bakugou measured carefully. Marked the exact spot precisely. Then hammered the numbers
into place into the perfect spot--dead center horizontally, two-thirds the way the up door
vertically.

“It’s crooked,” Todoroki commented.

Bakugou bristled. “No, it’s fucking not!”

It was.

“Keep it the way it is,” Todoroki laughed when Bakugou made to rip the numbers off the
door. “I like it.”

Bakugou left the numbers the way they were. But, distantly, in the back of his mind, Bakugou
wondered if he would grimace at the crooked numbers every time he opened the door, now.
But Bakugou also carved into his brain the sound of Todoroki’s laughter and the warmth of
his smile. Maybe every time he opens the door, he’ll think of Todoroki looking so content
and proud.

Fitting, Bakugou thought, to think about your family when you come home.

Finally were their names.

They didn’t have a nameplate, so Todoroki scrawled their names on a sticky note. Bakugou
punched a nail through it and hammered it into place under the numbers. The note was
 crooked, too.

“It’s perfect,” Todoroki said, wrapping his arms around Bakugou’s waist. “It’s perfect.”

The doorknob was still too loose and the door was still misaligned on its hinges--but that was
work for another day.

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed.

“It’s ours.”

When Monday morning came, Bakugou made breakfast for himself and Todoroki. No toast.
Because sometimes Todoroki said ‘no’ to toast simply because he didn’t want toast some
mornings. No other reason behind it.

“Let’s not argue in the office today,” Bakugou said.

“Okay,” Todoroki agreed.

Then, they both paused. Hesitated for a moment.

A strange, puzzled, expression overtook Todoroki’s face, then. “Katsuki, do you remember
what--”

“Nope,” Bakugou answered, “do you?”

Todoroki shook his head. “No.”

Oh.

It was just as well, Bakugou supposed. They probably had been arguing about something
stupid, anyway.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, news: I deactivated my Twitter. This might be a temporary thing, idk??? (I have
all my OT4 rambles on there which I don't want to lose so I might log back on before
the 30 day window is up to save all those rambles)

Anyway, I also marked my WIPs as complete (and I took down one WIP that was going
to take a while to finish). This fic was my last incomplete one. And I know I technically
have a bunch of other fics I've promised y'all and maybe I'll get to them eventually (no, I
haven't forgotten about the epilogue. yes i think about it daily lmao). But it's kind of nice
to not have posted WIPs anymore. Especially since I might be taking a break from
writing. At least for a little while. (Honestly I have no idea if/when I'm going to keep up
writing. It's hard for me to think further than a day in the future, these days). So it's nice
to not have WIPs that people are waiting for updates on.

I'm just having a really difficult time right now in my life. I'm just so full of fear about
the election in one week (11/3) and then my birthday in three weeks (11/17) and it's
really hard to shake all that fear and dread and a lot of it isn't even rooted in reality. And
I've been getting so overwhelmed by little things (because I'm already so overwhelmed

🤷
about big things). And sometimes my relationship with reality gets a bit more fragile
when I'm insanely overwhelmed. It's rough.

But!! The good news is I'm still attending my support groups and therapy appointments
and doing my therapy homework and utilizing my coping skills and spending time with
my IRL friends and loved ones (virtually) when I can. So, I'm doing all the right things
in terms of doing what I can to keep myself well! I'm committed to getting through this.

As always, thanks for reading. And thank you for all of your kindness and support!!! I

💖💖💖💖💖
don't know what I did to deserve such kind readers, but I'm grateful for y'all every day
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!