[He's too drunk and too frustrated to give a shit about Todoroki sitting beside him. Plenty of idiots (two) are No Fear enough to sit anywhere in his general vicinity: Kirishima and Kaminari.
But when Todoroki grabs his arm, his muscles tense and his hand fists like he plans to jerk it away. It stops rigid, and his eyes snap to the other boy, suspicious and dangerous. Though when his knuckles brush Todoroki's collar, his fingers slowly, skeptically uncurl until the chilly neck is tucked in the groove of his thumb.
The glare is still there, but softer, and he brings his other arm up to hide his face in the crook of his elbow. Goosebumps break out along his arms and across the curves of his pectorals, and his jaw tightens at the sensation of going from hot to something cooler.
For a long time, he lies there this way with his damp hand on Todoroki's collar and his flushed face covered. Then slowly, he lifts his arm to peer out with one eye. It looks like he might say something, but whatever he plans to say dies on his open lips as giggling erupts in the hallway outside.
He stops dead. Doesn't even breathe.
It must be the girls, based on the higher voices, the laughter strained to be quiet. But he holds there, staring at Todoroki as if they're already caught, drunk and mostly naked, touching. The soft chatter drifts on down the hall, and Bakugou finally licks his lips, exhales long and low.
His voice is a drowsy, full of gravel again, throat raw. Surprisingly quiet and almost a whisper.] The damn bag. There's... some fucking food if you want it. Four onigiri. And water.
[But his fingers hook like he might keep Todoroki from moving at all.]
no subject
But when Todoroki grabs his arm, his muscles tense and his hand fists like he plans to jerk it away. It stops rigid, and his eyes snap to the other boy, suspicious and dangerous. Though when his knuckles brush Todoroki's collar, his fingers slowly, skeptically uncurl until the chilly neck is tucked in the groove of his thumb.
The glare is still there, but softer, and he brings his other arm up to hide his face in the crook of his elbow. Goosebumps break out along his arms and across the curves of his pectorals, and his jaw tightens at the sensation of going from hot to something cooler.
For a long time, he lies there this way with his damp hand on Todoroki's collar and his flushed face covered. Then slowly, he lifts his arm to peer out with one eye. It looks like he might say something, but whatever he plans to say dies on his open lips as giggling erupts in the hallway outside.
He stops dead. Doesn't even breathe.
It must be the girls, based on the higher voices, the laughter strained to be quiet. But he holds there, staring at Todoroki as if they're already caught, drunk and mostly naked, touching. The soft chatter drifts on down the hall, and Bakugou finally licks his lips, exhales long and low.
His voice is a drowsy, full of gravel again, throat raw. Surprisingly quiet and almost a whisper.] The damn bag. There's... some fucking food if you want it. Four onigiri. And water.
[But his fingers hook like he might keep Todoroki from moving at all.]