[The only thing he can do for a moment is bare gritted teeth across the table at Todoroki. He doesn't want to give up, and he thinks changing the game signifies doing that much.
His eyes snap up, focus. He still has almost the same irritated expression, but there's a defensive, softer edge to it than before.] That brickhead with the stupid hair? [As if he actually had to pretend he doesn't know who Kirishima is when the guy is latched onto him nine times out of ten. He's so nice to his friends...
[ Kirishima's nickname comes as no surprise, even earns Bakugou a roll of eyes. Really, Bakugou? Can't you just learn everyone's name like a normal person? ]
So you should have an array of games we could play.
[ Maybe one that could get them drunk faster.
Even with that gross skull liquor.
Next time, Todoroki will pick up the alcohol because he officially can't trust Bakugou to do so.
Also, calico? Really? He's not a cat, Bakugou. ]
Maybe something that will be more challenging.
when will hori make me retcon all this description
If you were worth a shit, you'd be able to pick the damn games!
[But he's only being salty for the sake of being salty. Naturally. For a moment, he glances off to the side, and it's amazing to see how legitimately intelligent he is when all he usually does is yell and bark and explode.] Stay here.
Don't fucking touch anything, and don't fucking snoop through my damn room, Halfy. [In one swift motion, he rises to his feet and heads for the door. He doesn't bother saying where he's going, even if Todoroki asks.
That's that. Todoroki is left in his room as the door clicks shut. It's not necessarily an eyesore. It's Bakugou at the essence of it: a weird mixture of jock and brain. The desk is sparse; Bakugou seems to do the bare minimum of work, but the work he does is excellent. There's books, something easy to get through without having to waste time writing. A laptop, the back covered in a few array of stickers on a different level of Edginess than Tokoyami. Bombs. Skulls and bones.
There's not much overwhelming color, and most things are black or grey or muted. It's very delinquent except for the few posters on the wall that stand as a beacon to his rigid ideal. Top hero. One poster has the top four heroes on it. One is actually All Might. Even if he's an ass, it seems he has his heart in the right place.
The phone on the table left behind buzzes. Even from Todoroki's angle, when the screen lights up, it's easy to see Kirishima's name. The phone buzzes several more times, but the top-most bubble definitely says, hey man, you weren't at dinner. what's up??
And then the front door opens suddenly. Bakugou comes back in with a dragon's hoard: the tank top is lifted, exposing his tight stomach from the ribs down. In the balloon of the tanktop is a collection of smaller drinking glasses. Ten of them, balanced precariously. The door slams when he kicks his shut with his foot, and he walks the stolen goods back over to the table where he crouches on his knees.]
Okay, fucking help me. You get five, and I get five.
[ Todoroki considers a salty comment right back, but bites his tongue. As long as Bakugou fixed the issue at hand, Todoroki didn't care in the end. ]
Fine. Hurry it up.
[ Huffing, Todoroki rests his elbows on the table, bracing his cheeks in hand, and gives a small inspection of the room. There are parts that definitely scream Bakugou, the edgier parts of the room. The other parts, the ones that don't stand out too much, those are what make it odd.
As he focuses on the desk, Todoroki remembers the other plastic bag tossed somewhere there, and curiously he wonders what else Bakugou bought. He doesn't spy though, especially when the phone buzzes, causing him to tense up. Todoroki is able to read the message, knows he shouldn't, that was Bakugou's privacy, yet curiosity killed this cat.
Mismatched eyes look up just in time to see the supplies being carried. He's quietly noting the shirt, and tries not to think too much about it, and focus on the glasses Bakugou holds. ]
Alright. [ He answers simply, reaching over to pluck five of the glasses, arranging them onto the table. ] What game will we play?
[Once he gets the other five glasses on the table, he digs through his pocket and produces--a ping pong ball? Don't ask where he got it. He hits it against the table at just the right angle so it flies up and whacks Todoroki in the center of the forehead. Calculated.
His lips curve into a wolfish grin again.] The point is to get the ball in the opponent's cup. If you do, they gotta fuckin' drink what's in it.
[Letting Todoroki have the ball, he takes up the skulled vodka and begins pouring alternating levels of alcohol into all of the glasses. They each get the same levels, but the levels are staggered. Some of the glasses are worse than others. More full.]
Alright, back the fuck up a minute.
[Carefully and easily, he turns the table sideways between them when Todoroki is out of the way, all without toppling the glasses. He pushes his phone to the floor, and the glasses get separated to each end. A triangle--three and two.]
You can bounce the ball on the table or just toss it in. The new rule is: you miss, you gotta take something off.
[ Beer pong. Todoroki can't find it within himself to be surprised. It's a well enough known game, however he never had the leisure to play it. In fact, Todoroki usually refrained from playing many games that involved alcohol.
Bakugou has been the exception so far.
Eyes watch the ping pong ball, and as soon as it hits dead-center at his forehead, he huffs, feathers ruffled, so to say while his hands reach for the small ball. At least the rules were simple enough.
Todoroki takes a few steps back, lets Bakugou set up the table while he watches on. It shouldn't be that hard, but the rush of confidence isn't as daring as before. At least they would get to drinking faster, even if it was distasteful. Todoroki is sure his assurance will build up when they start. ]
A lot better than the last game. If I start winning, you better not throw anything else.
[ Todoroki gets into position, eyes the center cup, figures that would be the easier target. Aligning his wrist, he bounces the ball to hit the table and--
Miss.
Tossed between two glasses and rolling between the cups now. Not enough pressure to his bounce.
Well, it was a challenge, like he wanted. He sighs, frown at his lips. ]
...do you get to decide what I take off, or can I choose?
[ Because he would make this the most agonizing, slow strip ever. Not that Bakugou needed to know that. ]
[With some kind of smug swagger, Bakugou goes to the table to retrieve the ball.] Get rid of the pants. [Picking was never specified, but he'll be damned if he lets the opportunity for control to get out of his hands during a challenge.
Besides, he knows Todoroki would be exactly like him when it comes to removing clothes: being an ass and taking off as little as possible. A slipper. A sock. Humiliation is quicker this way.
Back in throwing position, he snaps his free fingers three times as if to say for Todoroki to hurry up. His hand with the ball lifts. His eyes are like a hawk, focused. He chucks the ball. It hits the rim of the fullest glass and bounces off into the glass with the least amount, probably a shot.]
Goddammit. [He wanted the bigger fish.] Drink. Technically, I go again, but fuck it, you seem to need a helping hand, Halfy. You can go.
[ With the smallest roll of his eyes, Todoroki lifts up his sweater, so he can grab the edges of his pants to drag them off. He goes out of his way to fold them, placing the pants off to the side. The oversized sweater keeps him warm, along with his quirk. Due to the nature of the sweater, it comes down long enough to cover most of his boxers.
It's unfortunate he couldn't pick though, liked Bakugou knew what he would plan.
Todoroki looks up just in time in irritation to find his next loss. Thankfully, it's the cup with the least amount of alcohol.
Taking the glass, Todoroki doesn't bother to pick out the ball, drinks the clear liquor down, until the ping pong ball brushes over his lips. A groan manages to slip as he feels the burn, but beside that, he's not coughing like before. ]
How considerate of you, Bakugou. I should be so lucky. [ The sarcasm practically drips off his tongue.
He takes the ping pong ball in hand, positions his wrist like before, and bounces it. This time, after a hit to the table's surface, the ball lands in one of the fuller cups. It wasn't the cup Todoroki was aiming for, but at least it was more full than his glass had been.
While a victory, Todoroki wasn't celebrating yet. There was still room for him to lose if he wasn't careful. ]
[Both hands fist at his sides as the ball plops wetly into the rather full glass. Miniature explosions crackle in his palms, but nothing else destructive blows out of them. For now.
He's indignant and stubborn, and he jerks the glass up off the table like he's a big shot. This is nothing. IT'S NOTHING.
He throws it back with the ball inside, squeezing his eyes shut, his neck rolling as he tries to guzzle what he can before the taste and the sting slap him. He makes it three-fourths of the way and then has to jerk the glass down so he can cough roughly. His throat is on fire, his voice even lower.]
Who the fuck can drink this shit?! It tastes like I'm chugging ninety-nine percent isopropyl!! There's no TASTE!
[He coughs one final, racking time and then clenches his jaw. After a pause, he throws the rest of it back, eyes watering gently. The ball he grabs between his teeth after he's swallowed and taken a moment to pray for death with the glass resting on his lips, head back. Awful.
One arm wipes his nose while he puts the glass on the floor nearby, and then he pops the ball out of his mouth into his hand.] Alright, you two-toned fuck. You just dug your fuckin' grave.
[He chucks the ball at the table directly, sending it vertically up, hoping when it falls, it'll land in a glass.
Unfortunately, it rattles down between the glasses and against the table.] Fucking shit! [His threat was for nothing!!]
[ Todoroki bites back a look of amusement at Bakugou's suffering. But, Bakugou is a trooper and guzzles that drink like a champ. Todoroki doesn't look forward to being in the same place, not with this liquor. ]
You should have grabbed a drink you tried before. You're making us both suffer.
[ Like the previous night's alcohol of choice. That had been cakewalk for Todoroki.
With Bakugou chucking the ball, Todoroki prepares himself to drink up the awful liquor. He frowned at the thought, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. He didn't want to lose this game.
Naturally, with how well Bakugou had bounced the ball previously, him missing surprises even Todoroki.
This time he does smile at the victory, taking the ball into hand. ]
Remove your pants.
[ A little revenge for the loss of his own pants.
He's already aiming his hand and taking the shot once again. And shocking him more, Todoroki makes the ball into another glass. It's still not the glass he had been aiming for, but it's another glass of alcohol, filled less than the previous glass.
[He's more upset about the alcohol than the lake of clothes. The last chug he took really set him back. He feels... decidedly more chill, about as chill as Bakugou can be, a little tingly.
A scarlet warmth has pooled up over his jaws into his cheeks, more apparent with his fairer skin and lighter hair. Doesn't quite match his eyes just yet, but close.
Angrily, he shoves the tongue of the belt out and unhooks the latch. There's a predatory glint to his eye when he stares across at Todoroki as he yanks the belt out of every loop of his pants in one go. He drops the belt haphazardly, glares instead at the waiting glass as he undoes the pants and drops them to his calves. He steps out of his slippers and the pants together, kicks the pants to the side with a foot.
More impressive than his arms and shoulders: his legs. Thick and wired full of muscle; the boxer-briefs do little to hide anything and instead cling to his thighs. But he still doesn't seem to mind being mostly undressed. In fact, the air is a relief on his hot, damp skin.
The glass he lifts and downs exactly as foolhardy and quick as before. Choking and coughing spares him, but he grimaces heavily and a held breath explodes from him after. The belch he catches in the crook of his arm, but it at least doesn't sound sick. He digs the ball out, puts the glass down, and takes an unsteady step back into place.]
Alright...
[It takes him a moment to line up the shot. His face wants to be focused, but his eyes seem pleasantly hazy. He chucks the ball, aiming for the most full glass. Instead, he lands it in the one a step up from least full.]
[ Todoroki tries his best not to stare, but he's curious. Bakugou was a walking jock, powerful with bulging muscles. It's enough to make anyone's mouth water. Except Todoroki because he's not trying to be that noticeable in his gaze.
Really, there was no hiding anything, many parts of Bakugou rather open now. And with no shame either. That doesn't shock Todoroki, if he was being honest.
Todoroki takes a chance to correct himself, mouth breathing normally and eyes on the table would Bakugou finishes off his drink.
Swallowing, Todoroki finds himself sighing when Bakugou's hit makes contact with the glass. Wordlessly, Todoroki raises the cup up and drinks it down.
The liquor is either becoming better or Todoroki was getting tipsy. He's able to swallows it all down in one gulp. Todoroki supposes he has experience to thank for that.
Once the liquor is drowned down, Todoroki drops the ball into hand. It's hard to focus, lining his shot up. He's aiming for the same cup, the one with the most alcohol.
Unfortunately, not only is his aim off, but there's a definite noticeable stagger from the alcohol that's hit him. Todoroki scoffs, watching the ping pong ball roll around the table aimlessly.
Todoroki centers his gaze onto Bakugou, waiting for the other to put him through some more misery. ]
[More slowly and lax than before, Bakugou chases down the ball on the table. He misses the first time, glares intensely, and then grabs it the second time without issue.]
The dumbass sweater. [He jerks a thumb to the side without glancing at Todoroki as he steps back into place.] Off.
[When he's in place, his red eyes flick quickly back up to land on the other boy. Watchful. Unwavering. He doesn't look away in embarrassment or modesty while he waits for Todoroki to undress, and he purposely waits and watches until it's finished before he gets ready to take another shot.
His hand lifts, and he licks his lips. The throw is against the table, and there's an attempt to disregard the usual smashing affair that comes with Bakugou flying in off the handle. It's still too hard. The ball ricochets up and flies over Todoroki's shoulder to tumble down near the veranda sliding door.
Bakugou lets out a long, airy hiss, much like the fuse of a dynamite growing shorter.]
[ Todoroki knew it was coming, still, he gave a disapproving look, not out of shyness, but the fact that this game came so far.
He inches his fingers down, grabs the edge of the sweater, and raises it up. There's no other shirt below, only bare, smooth skin that Todoroki has to use his quirk to heat up in order to make up for the loss of his sweater. Unlike Bakugou, Todoroki isn't as heavily muscled, but he does have the growing start of some. With proper work out, he could be more toned out. He feels his bones are more sharp though, from his collarbone to his hips.
Todoroki folds the sweater like he had done with his pants, placing both of them together, off at the side. He returns back to the table, getting ready for their next round.
And when the ball is tossed over his shoulder, landing behind him, Todoroki doesn't go and retrieve it. Not yet, anyway. ]
Bakugou, we're drunk.
[ It's not a means to find a way out of this mess. Todoroki is still determined that he could win, even while as undressed as he was. And he's positive Bakugou would keep going, until every little thing was removed.
If Todoroki was being honest, he's not sure it was the greatest idea of either one of them to get fully undressed. He's not shy of his looks, but he's already struggling to keep his eyes from noting every little detail of Bakugou's body. ]
This drink is disgusting, and I doubt we really want to see each other nude.
[It's very quick, immature, and indignant. Like a child. The unashamed once-over of Todoroki's unconcealed body turns into a soft glare.] You turnin' in, Icy Hot? Tch. [Quietly, Bakugou exhales and rolls his head around and then back. He closes his eyes and breathes, feels the swim in the darkness and the flush on his face, burning him up.
Yeah, they're drunk. Not eating dinner didn't help in the slightest. Stomachs empty and hollow, chest and head swimming.
When he looks back down again, it's like he isn't sure whether to be irritated or relieved.] You're not fucking getting off the damn hook that easily, you bastard. Pick up the ball. [He hates getting the win so easily. Hates it more than anything. He wants to win fair. This isn't fair.
The win won't be worth it and, yet, it's still a win anyway.]
I'll stop when you fucking forfeit. Say it. You give up, and I win.
[ Really, Bakugou was going to act this way? Still, Todoroki couldn't blame him. He knew the other wouldn't take this lying down, not in the slightest. It'd be easier if Bakugou was more reasonable.
With his feather's ruffled, Todoroki turns on his heel, going to the ping pong ball, and retrieving it off the ground. If Bakugou wouldn't listen to him, then he was going to take matters into his own hand.
Once back at the table, Todoroki holds up the ball, as if he's about to throw it--
Only to drop it into an empty glass.
He doesn't stop there, either. The glasses that remained full, Todoroki lifts them up, and immediately chugs one at a time, quickly, leaving the fullest cup for last. There's no pause as he drowns the burning vodka, but a heavy rush sits on his chest and stomach, a feeling that goes completely ignored until he has finished off all of his drinks. ]
I don't forfeit, you don't win, but I'm not playing anymore with this liquor.
[ Todoroki manages to get out, eyes closing as he staggers. There would be a definite hangover tomorrow, unless he drinks a gallon of water before he passes out. With enough drinking under his belt, Todoroki doesn't feel completely gone, but there was a good buzz going through his body. He could walk, but he were in a fight, he would definitely lose. ]
Bring better liquor next time for a decent match, Bakugou.
[ The fast drinking is definitely making him more vocal, more of an attitude. But, it's Bakugou, so it shouldn't be a problem. ]
[Honestly? Bakugou is fucking stunned. It's not unlike standing on the outskirts of the forest looking in every direction like a lost, utter moron. What is happening? What is fucking happening, and is this real life?
He stares as Todoroki lifts each glass and chugs the clear, awful liquid down. He just... stares. Slowly, one by one, ounce by ounce, Bakugou's win rolls burning down Todoroki's throat.
The last glass clinking on the table goes hand-in-hand with the clack of his teeth as he grits them.] ...You cop-out red and white bastard... [Both hands fold out to each side, palms up, and they start exploding gently but wildly, like a ground fountain firework.]
FUCK YOU! What the fucking hell was that?! You can't just drink all the goddamn glasses and not admit defeat!!
[He lets out a long, low, crying growl of absolute annoyance, bending over and gripping his thighs. Fine. FINE. Two can play at that game!!
He bolts unsteadily for his end of the table. Whatever drinks are left, he starts hefting them up one by one to likewise throw back the contents. The less full glasses are easier to manage. The bigger ones pull water to his eyes again, but the more he drinks, the more numb everything feels to the taste, the scald.
It's a wonder the last glass doesn't break when he slams it down on the table, but instead of staggering back, he topples over on the floor in a sit. UGH. He can't believe the nerve of this fucking guy!!]
[He's so angry and drunk and hot! He throws his hands over his back and digs the black tank top up and off his head, tossing it away wherever.] Turn off your goddamn heating unit, you boiler jackass! [He runs the back of his wrist over his mouth, and then drops onto the cool floor, his neck and collar glistening with sweat.] My room is turning into a fucking sauna!
[For the moment, he's okay. But in ten minutes or so, he's going to be wasted from all of the chugged vodka.]
[ Todoroki expects, one hundred percent, the attitude that would fly at him. He can't fight off Bakugou, but Todoroki had wanted to make his point across. This game was pointless, and he wasn't going to let them take it that far. It would be completely agitating if his eyes lingered anywhere on Bakugou's body far too long, and he's called out on it.
What he doesn't expect is Bakugou returning the same gesture, and guzzling each one of those drinks himself. He's even taken back by it, but also impressed at the same time. Maybe it was all due to that ego, especially after Bakugou's loss from the previous night. Still, Bakugou was going to look and act like shit tomorrow. Todoroki would be doing his best to avoid the other, most likely.
Not that Todoroki would feel any better. He could already imagine the splitting headache and nausea that would be waiting for him in the morning.
Todoroki is unaware that he's loss control of his quirk, not until Bakugou has removed his tank top and berates him. He huffs, crossing his arms. ]
If you kept it warmer in here, I wouldn't have turned it on.
[ But, it's rather hard to focus, with the drink in his system. He can feel his heating quick becoming more prominent, warming the room up further, making it uncomfortable for Todoroki even. He rubs his temples, and tries to focus. Unfortunately, alcohol tends to bring about his heat, rather than his cooling quirk. Not unless...
Sighing a little in irritation, Todoroki manages to walk to few steps between him and Bakugou. He sits down next to the flopped body, crossing one leg over the other. Then, he reaches for Bakugou's arm, pressing the blond's palm to his collarbone.
It's minimal, his icy quirk, only works better with contact while he's inebriated. The heat he can't necessarily control while like this, but Bakugou shouldn't feel any more heat, only a cool breeze. Of course, they couldn't stay like this all night. Todoroki hopes it'll be enough until he could get Bakugou passed out, so he can leave the heated room. The heat was stagnant, would probably last for a few hours.
There was also another means he could use, but, the thought is pushed far from his thoughts. This should be fine enough. ]
There's only two ways I can cool you down, so you'll have to bare with it and touch me until you're fine.
[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.]
[ Todoroki immediately picked up the way Bakugou tenses up, but the other isn't pulling away, so Todoroki does not question it.
For Todoroki, Bakugou's touch is warming, in a good way. He half expected it to be incredibly hot, maybe even burning, almost believes he should feel a searing heat that pops with that exploding quirk.
The quiet atmosphere is welcoming, Todoroki doing his best to keep them cooled down, while also trying to get control of his heat. The alcohol was definitely making it harder to keep at bay. He's in the midst of that when he catches Bakugou's eyes on him. He waits curiously, for whatever the other intends to say-
But the laughter in the halls suddenly erupts, breaking the atmosphere. Cautiously, Todoroki glances at the door. They're in the worst position to be caught in. He's tense, his heating quirk getting worst no doubt. It really would be a sauna if Bakugou let go of him. Luckily though, the voices outside trail off, to Todoroki's relief.
He releases a sigh of cool air, immediately comes to realize that he had grabbed at Bakugou's biceps, his fingernails lightly digging in. Todoroki retracts the marks, and allows his cold quirk to frost over the indents he created, as a quiet form of apology.
The offered food and water is almost surprising to hear coming from Bakugou, but not unwelcomed. Todoroki knew he shouldn't eat anything, it'd only make him worst, but the water wound definitely help. ]
Thank you, Bakugou.
[ But, Todoroki doesn't get to his feet yet, with how those fingers have hooked on him. He can't blame Bakugou. It would be insanely hot when he lets go. ]
You can stand up and come with me, if you don't want to deal with the heat. It's probably around a hundred and five degrees in here.
[Having his body abused isn't a big deal; he's put himself through worse strengthening who he is for the sake of being top hero. The nails in his skin ground him. The ice keeps the goosebumps out on his skin.]
Stop fucking up my damn room, Halfass. Nng. I need to... to open the fucking outside window...
[His hand smooths up to hook around the back of Todoroki's neck, but there's not much weight there when he uses his abs instead to heft himself up in a sit. The room spins, and he groans low under his breath against the other boy's shoulder.]
The next time we drink piss and rubbing alcohol, we're going to do it outside because you can't turn off your goddamn heater.
[Fuck, okay. He's going to have to try to get up without ending up laid out on the floor, unconscious.]
[ Todoroki leans with Bakugou, trying to balance the other as he wraps that arm around his neck. He's thankful for the other using his abs to lift with. Todoroki is positive he wouldn't be strong enough as drunk as he was feeling. ]
Just buy cheap whiskey next time. It doesn't set off my quirk as bad.
[ Todoroki decides to move as well, help assist Bakugou with getting the windows opened, and to also get that bottle of water. He releases Bakugou then, getting slowly up to his feet.
But, as Todoroki takes a step back, his foot landed on top of one of their phones, he's not even sure who it belongs to. It startled him enough though, because he really didn't want to break another phone, nor deal with Bakugou being pissy that he broke his phone. However, trying to maneuver forward only becomes a compete mess. He hits the side of the table, and in his drunken state, Todoroki loses his balance.
Unfortunately, he falls, and his hands try to catch himself. Not only does he not catch himself, but he manages to dig both sets of hands onto Bakugou, along with his head hitting hard to the blond's skull.
Pain immediately shoots up, one hand that has fallen to Bakugou's shoulder pulls away to rub the ache at his head. The other hand remains at the other's chest. ]
Bakugou, why did you leave the phone there?
[ Because obviously this was not Todoroki's fault in the slightest. ]
[Getting up with Todoroki is worse than Bakugou imagined. Never is he really this uncoordinated. He has to turn over to his knees, and the weight not on Todoroki before is present now. He puts both hands on the other boy's shoulders, feeling the sting of the heat on one side but being so use to nitroglycerin explosions to care. His palms are calloused.
Leaving the comfort of Todoroki's cool side is suffering. His hands drag up over the white and red hair, push off Todoroki's crown, and he staggers back a moment until he can get his footing, until Todoroki can stand up, too.] ...Shit. [And then he startles.
It feels like Todoroki trips in slow motion, but he's also moving in slow motion. He watches it happen, arms rising like iron beams, and he doesn't feel quick enough at all, not to catch the boy falling back and not to catch the boy falling forward.
Their heads clack, and light pops briefly behind his eyes. The noise that rises out of Bakugou isn't a snarl or a hiss; it's a genuine, low groan of pain, something vulnerable. Whatever he mutters is barely audible, and he sags forward on top of Todoroki with his chin hooked over the other's shoulder. He's glad he doesn't puke.]
...You bastard...
[It's not technically Todoroki's fault, but the anger is quick to boil up in him. He starts walking forward, smashing into Todoroki with the bulk of his chest, pushing even the taller boy backward as he goes. A solid brick wall, inescapable. All the way across the room without pause until Todoroki's back meets the blistering cool feel of the sliding glass door of the veranda. Bakugou presses in as heavily as he can.
The notch of the handle gets a few of his fingers, almost like he might open it and let Todoroki just tumble out on the deck. He doesn't. The other hand rises between them, and he hooks it around Todoroki's neck under the jaw, icy and burning on different sides of his palm. He squeezes ever so slightly and stares hard, but his eyes are unfocused. If he wanted, he could probably blow Todoroki's head off the shoulders and through the glass window behind.
And then without giving any rhyme or reason why, he kisses Todoroki hard on the mouth.]
[ Todoroki is still trying to stop the world from spinning when he feels Bakugou's shove to his chest. It's a miracle he doesn't fall again, but it's also not stopping. The force is there, one foot back after the other. ]
B-Bakugou! I'm not in the mood for you-
[ His back suddenly hits the sliding glass door, feels actually nice against his warm back. He leans as far against it as he can, trying to put in some distance between the way Bakugou towers over him.
Todoroki really didn't want to fight, didn't trust his quirk to be used to assist him. He's worried that Bakugou would open the door to the veranda, braces himself for the possibility.
But then Bakugou's hand is there, and Todoroki can't help to look defiantly at the other, a silent challenge if it did involve getting into a physical fight. Naturally though, the sudden hard plant of those lips against his is the farthest thing he expects to happen.
For a few seconds, Todoroki stalls. It's not his first kiss, not even his first drunk kiss. It's still unexpected though, and Todoroki finally just let's himself respond to Bakugou.
Todoroki isn't nearly as rough in response though, yet he's kissing back, in a way that seems unsure or even shy. The buzz of alcohol doesn't help, only makes Todoroki feel further lost in what they're doing. Todoroki settles one hand to grab at Bakugou's muscled arm, nails digging in like before.
It feels nice in a way, over-powering that sends a noticeable shiver down Todoroki's spine. The longer they kiss, the more comfortable Todoroki becomes. He soon begins to kiss back with more confidence, although not as near as how hard Bakugou felt against him. His grip doesn't let up either, like a lifeline to hold onto from this experience. ]
[Honestly, he's not sure how long he kisses Todoroki because things are more mellow and a hell of a lot slower. A minute or two; he gets caught up in a "goal," and the goal is to taste the mouth he forgets to who it belongs.
When he pulls back to breathe, the hand on the handle has moved to the glass by Todoroki's head, and his gaze is hazy but perhaps a little perplexed by his own actions. For a long moment, he just stares, face flushed.]
I'm fucking drunk.
[Bluntly. As if that explains everything. The draw to kiss Todoroki, his inability to fight the urge. He looks like he's thinking about what to do now that he's accomplished the small stretch goal, but the only thing his eyes can really focus on are Todoroki's lips.
He kisses them again, though this time, surprisingly more experimental, less hard and hungry, less impatient. It's strange; one side feels like how mint tastes, the other is heady and hot. As much fuss as he made about wanting it to be cool, he actually seems to prefer the side prickling him like cinnamon.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
His eyes snap up, focus. He still has almost the same irritated expression, but there's a defensive, softer edge to it than before.] That brickhead with the stupid hair? [As if he actually had to pretend he doesn't know who Kirishima is when the guy is latched onto him nine times out of ten. He's so nice to his friends...
He doesn't deserve them at all. None.]
What the hell does it matter to you, calico?
no subject
So you should have an array of games we could play.
[ Maybe one that could get them drunk faster.
Even with that gross skull liquor.
Next time, Todoroki will pick up the alcohol because he officially can't trust Bakugou to do so.
Also, calico? Really? He's not a cat, Bakugou. ]
Maybe something that will be more challenging.
when will hori make me retcon all this description
[But he's only being salty for the sake of being salty. Naturally. For a moment, he glances off to the side, and it's amazing to see how legitimately intelligent he is when all he usually does is yell and bark and explode.] Stay here.
Don't fucking touch anything, and don't fucking snoop through my damn room, Halfy. [In one swift motion, he rises to his feet and heads for the door. He doesn't bother saying where he's going, even if Todoroki asks.
That's that. Todoroki is left in his room as the door clicks shut. It's not necessarily an eyesore. It's Bakugou at the essence of it: a weird mixture of jock and brain. The desk is sparse; Bakugou seems to do the bare minimum of work, but the work he does is excellent. There's books, something easy to get through without having to waste time writing. A laptop, the back covered in a few array of stickers on a different level of Edginess than Tokoyami. Bombs. Skulls and bones.
There's not much overwhelming color, and most things are black or grey or muted. It's very delinquent except for the few posters on the wall that stand as a beacon to his rigid ideal. Top hero. One poster has the top four heroes on it. One is actually All Might. Even if he's an ass, it seems he has his heart in the right place.
The phone on the table left behind buzzes. Even from Todoroki's angle, when the screen lights up, it's easy to see Kirishima's name. The phone buzzes several more times, but the top-most bubble definitely says, hey man, you weren't at dinner. what's up??
And then the front door opens suddenly. Bakugou comes back in with a dragon's hoard: the tank top is lifted, exposing his tight stomach from the ribs down. In the balloon of the tanktop is a collection of smaller drinking glasses. Ten of them, balanced precariously. The door slams when he kicks his shut with his foot, and he walks the stolen goods back over to the table where he crouches on his knees.]
Okay, fucking help me. You get five, and I get five.
but it was very accurate tbh
Fine. Hurry it up.
[ Huffing, Todoroki rests his elbows on the table, bracing his cheeks in hand, and gives a small inspection of the room. There are parts that definitely scream Bakugou, the edgier parts of the room. The other parts, the ones that don't stand out too much, those are what make it odd.
As he focuses on the desk, Todoroki remembers the other plastic bag tossed somewhere there, and curiously he wonders what else Bakugou bought. He doesn't spy though, especially when the phone buzzes, causing him to tense up. Todoroki is able to read the message, knows he shouldn't, that was Bakugou's privacy, yet curiosity killed this cat.
Mismatched eyes look up just in time to see the supplies being carried. He's quietly noting the shirt, and tries not to think too much about it, and focus on the glasses Bakugou holds. ]
Alright. [ He answers simply, reaching over to pluck five of the glasses, arranging them onto the table. ] What game will we play?
ty i tried
[Once he gets the other five glasses on the table, he digs through his pocket and produces--a ping pong ball? Don't ask where he got it. He hits it against the table at just the right angle so it flies up and whacks Todoroki in the center of the forehead. Calculated.
His lips curve into a wolfish grin again.] The point is to get the ball in the opponent's cup. If you do, they gotta fuckin' drink what's in it.
[Letting Todoroki have the ball, he takes up the skulled vodka and begins pouring alternating levels of alcohol into all of the glasses. They each get the same levels, but the levels are staggered. Some of the glasses are worse than others. More full.]
Alright, back the fuck up a minute.
[Carefully and easily, he turns the table sideways between them when Todoroki is out of the way, all without toppling the glasses. He pushes his phone to the floor, and the glasses get separated to each end. A triangle--three and two.]
You can bounce the ball on the table or just toss it in. The new rule is: you miss, you gotta take something off.
How that for fucking upping your ante?
no subject
Bakugou has been the exception so far.
Eyes watch the ping pong ball, and as soon as it hits dead-center at his forehead, he huffs, feathers ruffled, so to say while his hands reach for the small ball. At least the rules were simple enough.
Todoroki takes a few steps back, lets Bakugou set up the table while he watches on. It shouldn't be that hard, but the rush of confidence isn't as daring as before. At least they would get to drinking faster, even if it was distasteful. Todoroki is sure his assurance will build up when they start. ]
A lot better than the last game. If I start winning, you better not throw anything else.
[ Todoroki gets into position, eyes the center cup, figures that would be the easier target. Aligning his wrist, he bounces the ball to hit the table and--
Miss.
Tossed between two glasses and rolling between the cups now. Not enough pressure to his bounce.
Well, it was a challenge, like he wanted. He sighs, frown at his lips. ]
...do you get to decide what I take off, or can I choose?
[ Because he would make this the most agonizing, slow strip ever. Not that Bakugou needed to know that. ]
no subject
[With some kind of smug swagger, Bakugou goes to the table to retrieve the ball.] Get rid of the pants. [Picking was never specified, but he'll be damned if he lets the opportunity for control to get out of his hands during a challenge.
Besides, he knows Todoroki would be exactly like him when it comes to removing clothes: being an ass and taking off as little as possible. A slipper. A sock. Humiliation is quicker this way.
Back in throwing position, he snaps his free fingers three times as if to say for Todoroki to hurry up. His hand with the ball lifts. His eyes are like a hawk, focused. He chucks the ball. It hits the rim of the fullest glass and bounces off into the glass with the least amount, probably a shot.]
Goddammit. [He wanted the bigger fish.] Drink. Technically, I go again, but fuck it, you seem to need a helping hand, Halfy. You can go.
no subject
It's unfortunate he couldn't pick though, liked Bakugou knew what he would plan.
Todoroki looks up just in time in irritation to find his next loss. Thankfully, it's the cup with the least amount of alcohol.
Taking the glass, Todoroki doesn't bother to pick out the ball, drinks the clear liquor down, until the ping pong ball brushes over his lips. A groan manages to slip as he feels the burn, but beside that, he's not coughing like before. ]
How considerate of you, Bakugou. I should be so lucky. [ The sarcasm practically drips off his tongue.
He takes the ping pong ball in hand, positions his wrist like before, and bounces it. This time, after a hit to the table's surface, the ball lands in one of the fuller cups. It wasn't the cup Todoroki was aiming for, but at least it was more full than his glass had been.
While a victory, Todoroki wasn't celebrating yet. There was still room for him to lose if he wasn't careful. ]
Drink up, Bakugou.
no subject
He's indignant and stubborn, and he jerks the glass up off the table like he's a big shot. This is nothing. IT'S NOTHING.
He throws it back with the ball inside, squeezing his eyes shut, his neck rolling as he tries to guzzle what he can before the taste and the sting slap him. He makes it three-fourths of the way and then has to jerk the glass down so he can cough roughly. His throat is on fire, his voice even lower.]
Who the fuck can drink this shit?! It tastes like I'm chugging ninety-nine percent isopropyl!! There's no TASTE!
[He coughs one final, racking time and then clenches his jaw. After a pause, he throws the rest of it back, eyes watering gently. The ball he grabs between his teeth after he's swallowed and taken a moment to pray for death with the glass resting on his lips, head back. Awful.
One arm wipes his nose while he puts the glass on the floor nearby, and then he pops the ball out of his mouth into his hand.] Alright, you two-toned fuck. You just dug your fuckin' grave.
[He chucks the ball at the table directly, sending it vertically up, hoping when it falls, it'll land in a glass.
Unfortunately, it rattles down between the glasses and against the table.] Fucking shit! [His threat was for nothing!!]
no subject
You should have grabbed a drink you tried before. You're making us both suffer.
[ Like the previous night's alcohol of choice. That had been cakewalk for Todoroki.
With Bakugou chucking the ball, Todoroki prepares himself to drink up the awful liquor. He frowned at the thought, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. He didn't want to lose this game.
Naturally, with how well Bakugou had bounced the ball previously, him missing surprises even Todoroki.
This time he does smile at the victory, taking the ball into hand. ]
Remove your pants.
[ A little revenge for the loss of his own pants.
He's already aiming his hand and taking the shot once again. And shocking him more, Todoroki makes the ball into another glass. It's still not the glass he had been aiming for, but it's another glass of alcohol, filled less than the previous glass.
His smile grows. ]
Too bad, Bakugou. Enjoy your drink.
no subject
[He's more upset about the alcohol than the lake of clothes. The last chug he took really set him back. He feels... decidedly more chill, about as chill as Bakugou can be, a little tingly.
A scarlet warmth has pooled up over his jaws into his cheeks, more apparent with his fairer skin and lighter hair. Doesn't quite match his eyes just yet, but close.
Angrily, he shoves the tongue of the belt out and unhooks the latch. There's a predatory glint to his eye when he stares across at Todoroki as he yanks the belt out of every loop of his pants in one go. He drops the belt haphazardly, glares instead at the waiting glass as he undoes the pants and drops them to his calves. He steps out of his slippers and the pants together, kicks the pants to the side with a foot.
More impressive than his arms and shoulders: his legs. Thick and wired full of muscle; the boxer-briefs do little to hide anything and instead cling to his thighs. But he still doesn't seem to mind being mostly undressed. In fact, the air is a relief on his hot, damp skin.
The glass he lifts and downs exactly as foolhardy and quick as before. Choking and coughing spares him, but he grimaces heavily and a held breath explodes from him after. The belch he catches in the crook of his arm, but it at least doesn't sound sick. He digs the ball out, puts the glass down, and takes an unsteady step back into place.]
Alright...
[It takes him a moment to line up the shot. His face wants to be focused, but his eyes seem pleasantly hazy. He chucks the ball, aiming for the most full glass. Instead, he lands it in the one a step up from least full.]
Lucky bastard.
no subject
Really, there was no hiding anything, many parts of Bakugou rather open now. And with no shame either. That doesn't shock Todoroki, if he was being honest.
Todoroki takes a chance to correct himself, mouth breathing normally and eyes on the table would Bakugou finishes off his drink.
Swallowing, Todoroki finds himself sighing when Bakugou's hit makes contact with the glass. Wordlessly, Todoroki raises the cup up and drinks it down.
The liquor is either becoming better or Todoroki was getting tipsy. He's able to swallows it all down in one gulp. Todoroki supposes he has experience to thank for that.
Once the liquor is drowned down, Todoroki drops the ball into hand. It's hard to focus, lining his shot up. He's aiming for the same cup, the one with the most alcohol.
Unfortunately, not only is his aim off, but there's a definite noticeable stagger from the alcohol that's hit him. Todoroki scoffs, watching the ping pong ball roll around the table aimlessly.
Todoroki centers his gaze onto Bakugou, waiting for the other to put him through some more misery. ]
no subject
The dumbass sweater. [He jerks a thumb to the side without glancing at Todoroki as he steps back into place.] Off.
[When he's in place, his red eyes flick quickly back up to land on the other boy. Watchful. Unwavering. He doesn't look away in embarrassment or modesty while he waits for Todoroki to undress, and he purposely waits and watches until it's finished before he gets ready to take another shot.
His hand lifts, and he licks his lips. The throw is against the table, and there's an attempt to disregard the usual smashing affair that comes with Bakugou flying in off the handle. It's still too hard. The ball ricochets up and flies over Todoroki's shoulder to tumble down near the veranda sliding door.
Bakugou lets out a long, airy hiss, much like the fuse of a dynamite growing shorter.]
Fucking--
no subject
He inches his fingers down, grabs the edge of the sweater, and raises it up. There's no other shirt below, only bare, smooth skin that Todoroki has to use his quirk to heat up in order to make up for the loss of his sweater. Unlike Bakugou, Todoroki isn't as heavily muscled, but he does have the growing start of some. With proper work out, he could be more toned out. He feels his bones are more sharp though, from his collarbone to his hips.
Todoroki folds the sweater like he had done with his pants, placing both of them together, off at the side. He returns back to the table, getting ready for their next round.
And when the ball is tossed over his shoulder, landing behind him, Todoroki doesn't go and retrieve it. Not yet, anyway. ]
Bakugou, we're drunk.
[ It's not a means to find a way out of this mess. Todoroki is still determined that he could win, even while as undressed as he was. And he's positive Bakugou would keep going, until every little thing was removed.
If Todoroki was being honest, he's not sure it was the greatest idea of either one of them to get fully undressed. He's not shy of his looks, but he's already struggling to keep his eyes from noting every little detail of Bakugou's body. ]
This drink is disgusting, and I doubt we really want to see each other nude.
no subject
[It's very quick, immature, and indignant. Like a child. The unashamed once-over of Todoroki's unconcealed body turns into a soft glare.] You turnin' in, Icy Hot? Tch. [Quietly, Bakugou exhales and rolls his head around and then back. He closes his eyes and breathes, feels the swim in the darkness and the flush on his face, burning him up.
Yeah, they're drunk. Not eating dinner didn't help in the slightest. Stomachs empty and hollow, chest and head swimming.
When he looks back down again, it's like he isn't sure whether to be irritated or relieved.] You're not fucking getting off the damn hook that easily, you bastard. Pick up the ball. [He hates getting the win so easily. Hates it more than anything. He wants to win fair. This isn't fair.
The win won't be worth it and, yet, it's still a win anyway.]
I'll stop when you fucking forfeit. Say it. You give up, and I win.
no subject
With his feather's ruffled, Todoroki turns on his heel, going to the ping pong ball, and retrieving it off the ground. If Bakugou wouldn't listen to him, then he was going to take matters into his own hand.
Once back at the table, Todoroki holds up the ball, as if he's about to throw it--
Only to drop it into an empty glass.
He doesn't stop there, either. The glasses that remained full, Todoroki lifts them up, and immediately chugs one at a time, quickly, leaving the fullest cup for last. There's no pause as he drowns the burning vodka, but a heavy rush sits on his chest and stomach, a feeling that goes completely ignored until he has finished off all of his drinks. ]
I don't forfeit, you don't win, but I'm not playing anymore with this liquor.
[ Todoroki manages to get out, eyes closing as he staggers. There would be a definite hangover tomorrow, unless he drinks a gallon of water before he passes out. With enough drinking under his belt, Todoroki doesn't feel completely gone, but there was a good buzz going through his body. He could walk, but he were in a fight, he would definitely lose. ]
Bring better liquor next time for a decent match, Bakugou.
[ The fast drinking is definitely making him more vocal, more of an attitude. But, it's Bakugou, so it shouldn't be a problem. ]
no subject
He stares as Todoroki lifts each glass and chugs the clear, awful liquid down. He just... stares. Slowly, one by one, ounce by ounce, Bakugou's win rolls burning down Todoroki's throat.
The last glass clinking on the table goes hand-in-hand with the clack of his teeth as he grits them.] ...You cop-out red and white bastard... [Both hands fold out to each side, palms up, and they start exploding gently but wildly, like a ground fountain firework.]
FUCK YOU! What the fucking hell was that?! You can't just drink all the goddamn glasses and not admit defeat!!
[He lets out a long, low, crying growl of absolute annoyance, bending over and gripping his thighs. Fine. FINE. Two can play at that game!!
He bolts unsteadily for his end of the table. Whatever drinks are left, he starts hefting them up one by one to likewise throw back the contents. The less full glasses are easier to manage. The bigger ones pull water to his eyes again, but the more he drinks, the more numb everything feels to the taste, the scald.
It's a wonder the last glass doesn't break when he slams it down on the table, but instead of staggering back, he topples over on the floor in a sit. UGH. He can't believe the nerve of this fucking guy!!]
[He's so angry and drunk and hot! He throws his hands over his back and digs the black tank top up and off his head, tossing it away wherever.] Turn off your goddamn heating unit, you boiler jackass! [He runs the back of his wrist over his mouth, and then drops onto the cool floor, his neck and collar glistening with sweat.] My room is turning into a fucking sauna!
[For the moment, he's okay. But in ten minutes or so, he's going to be wasted from all of the chugged vodka.]
no subject
What he doesn't expect is Bakugou returning the same gesture, and guzzling each one of those drinks himself. He's even taken back by it, but also impressed at the same time. Maybe it was all due to that ego, especially after Bakugou's loss from the previous night. Still, Bakugou was going to look and act like shit tomorrow. Todoroki would be doing his best to avoid the other, most likely.
Not that Todoroki would feel any better. He could already imagine the splitting headache and nausea that would be waiting for him in the morning.
Todoroki is unaware that he's loss control of his quirk, not until Bakugou has removed his tank top and berates him. He huffs, crossing his arms. ]
If you kept it warmer in here, I wouldn't have turned it on.
[ But, it's rather hard to focus, with the drink in his system. He can feel his heating quick becoming more prominent, warming the room up further, making it uncomfortable for Todoroki even. He rubs his temples, and tries to focus. Unfortunately, alcohol tends to bring about his heat, rather than his cooling quirk. Not unless...
Sighing a little in irritation, Todoroki manages to walk to few steps between him and Bakugou. He sits down next to the flopped body, crossing one leg over the other. Then, he reaches for Bakugou's arm, pressing the blond's palm to his collarbone.
It's minimal, his icy quirk, only works better with contact while he's inebriated. The heat he can't necessarily control while like this, but Bakugou shouldn't feel any more heat, only a cool breeze. Of course, they couldn't stay like this all night. Todoroki hopes it'll be enough until he could get Bakugou passed out, so he can leave the heated room. The heat was stagnant, would probably last for a few hours.
There was also another means he could use, but, the thought is pushed far from his thoughts. This should be fine enough. ]
There's only two ways I can cool you down, so you'll have to bare with it and touch me until you're fine.
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.]
no subject
For Todoroki, Bakugou's touch is warming, in a good way. He half expected it to be incredibly hot, maybe even burning, almost believes he should feel a searing heat that pops with that exploding quirk.
The quiet atmosphere is welcoming, Todoroki doing his best to keep them cooled down, while also trying to get control of his heat. The alcohol was definitely making it harder to keep at bay. He's in the midst of that when he catches Bakugou's eyes on him. He waits curiously, for whatever the other intends to say-
But the laughter in the halls suddenly erupts, breaking the atmosphere. Cautiously, Todoroki glances at the door. They're in the worst position to be caught in. He's tense, his heating quirk getting worst no doubt. It really would be a sauna if Bakugou let go of him. Luckily though, the voices outside trail off, to Todoroki's relief.
He releases a sigh of cool air, immediately comes to realize that he had grabbed at Bakugou's biceps, his fingernails lightly digging in. Todoroki retracts the marks, and allows his cold quirk to frost over the indents he created, as a quiet form of apology.
The offered food and water is almost surprising to hear coming from Bakugou, but not unwelcomed. Todoroki knew he shouldn't eat anything, it'd only make him worst, but the water wound definitely help. ]
Thank you, Bakugou.
[ But, Todoroki doesn't get to his feet yet, with how those fingers have hooked on him. He can't blame Bakugou. It would be insanely hot when he lets go. ]
You can stand up and come with me, if you don't want to deal with the heat. It's probably around a hundred and five degrees in here.
no subject
[Having his body abused isn't a big deal; he's put himself through worse strengthening who he is for the sake of being top hero. The nails in his skin ground him. The ice keeps the goosebumps out on his skin.]
Stop fucking up my damn room, Halfass. Nng. I need to... to open the fucking outside window...
[His hand smooths up to hook around the back of Todoroki's neck, but there's not much weight there when he uses his abs instead to heft himself up in a sit. The room spins, and he groans low under his breath against the other boy's shoulder.]
The next time we drink piss and rubbing alcohol, we're going to do it outside because you can't turn off your goddamn heater.
[Fuck, okay. He's going to have to try to get up without ending up laid out on the floor, unconscious.]
no subject
[ Todoroki leans with Bakugou, trying to balance the other as he wraps that arm around his neck. He's thankful for the other using his abs to lift with. Todoroki is positive he wouldn't be strong enough as drunk as he was feeling. ]
Just buy cheap whiskey next time. It doesn't set off my quirk as bad.
[ Todoroki decides to move as well, help assist Bakugou with getting the windows opened, and to also get that bottle of water. He releases Bakugou then, getting slowly up to his feet.
But, as Todoroki takes a step back, his foot landed on top of one of their phones, he's not even sure who it belongs to. It startled him enough though, because he really didn't want to break another phone, nor deal with Bakugou being pissy that he broke his phone. However, trying to maneuver forward only becomes a compete mess. He hits the side of the table, and in his drunken state, Todoroki loses his balance.
Unfortunately, he falls, and his hands try to catch himself. Not only does he not catch himself, but he manages to dig both sets of hands onto Bakugou, along with his head hitting hard to the blond's skull.
Pain immediately shoots up, one hand that has fallen to Bakugou's shoulder pulls away to rub the ache at his head. The other hand remains at the other's chest. ]
Bakugou, why did you leave the phone there?
[ Because obviously this was not Todoroki's fault in the slightest. ]
Your head is as hard as a rock.
no subject
Leaving the comfort of Todoroki's cool side is suffering. His hands drag up over the white and red hair, push off Todoroki's crown, and he staggers back a moment until he can get his footing, until Todoroki can stand up, too.] ...Shit. [And then he startles.
It feels like Todoroki trips in slow motion, but he's also moving in slow motion. He watches it happen, arms rising like iron beams, and he doesn't feel quick enough at all, not to catch the boy falling back and not to catch the boy falling forward.
Their heads clack, and light pops briefly behind his eyes. The noise that rises out of Bakugou isn't a snarl or a hiss; it's a genuine, low groan of pain, something vulnerable. Whatever he mutters is barely audible, and he sags forward on top of Todoroki with his chin hooked over the other's shoulder. He's glad he doesn't puke.]
...You bastard...
[It's not technically Todoroki's fault, but the anger is quick to boil up in him. He starts walking forward, smashing into Todoroki with the bulk of his chest, pushing even the taller boy backward as he goes. A solid brick wall, inescapable. All the way across the room without pause until Todoroki's back meets the blistering cool feel of the sliding glass door of the veranda. Bakugou presses in as heavily as he can.
The notch of the handle gets a few of his fingers, almost like he might open it and let Todoroki just tumble out on the deck. He doesn't. The other hand rises between them, and he hooks it around Todoroki's neck under the jaw, icy and burning on different sides of his palm. He squeezes ever so slightly and stares hard, but his eyes are unfocused. If he wanted, he could probably blow Todoroki's head off the shoulders and through the glass window behind.
And then without giving any rhyme or reason why, he kisses Todoroki hard on the mouth.]
no subject
B-Bakugou! I'm not in the mood for you-
[ His back suddenly hits the sliding glass door, feels actually nice against his warm back. He leans as far against it as he can, trying to put in some distance between the way Bakugou towers over him.
Todoroki really didn't want to fight, didn't trust his quirk to be used to assist him. He's worried that Bakugou would open the door to the veranda, braces himself for the possibility.
But then Bakugou's hand is there, and Todoroki can't help to look defiantly at the other, a silent challenge if it did involve getting into a physical fight. Naturally though, the sudden hard plant of those lips against his is the farthest thing he expects to happen.
For a few seconds, Todoroki stalls. It's not his first kiss, not even his first drunk kiss. It's still unexpected though, and Todoroki finally just let's himself respond to Bakugou.
Todoroki isn't nearly as rough in response though, yet he's kissing back, in a way that seems unsure or even shy. The buzz of alcohol doesn't help, only makes Todoroki feel further lost in what they're doing. Todoroki settles one hand to grab at Bakugou's muscled arm, nails digging in like before.
It feels nice in a way, over-powering that sends a noticeable shiver down Todoroki's spine. The longer they kiss, the more comfortable Todoroki becomes. He soon begins to kiss back with more confidence, although not as near as how hard Bakugou felt against him. His grip doesn't let up either, like a lifeline to hold onto from this experience. ]
no subject
When he pulls back to breathe, the hand on the handle has moved to the glass by Todoroki's head, and his gaze is hazy but perhaps a little perplexed by his own actions. For a long moment, he just stares, face flushed.]
I'm fucking drunk.
[Bluntly. As if that explains everything. The draw to kiss Todoroki, his inability to fight the urge. He looks like he's thinking about what to do now that he's accomplished the small stretch goal, but the only thing his eyes can really focus on are Todoroki's lips.
He kisses them again, though this time, surprisingly more experimental, less hard and hungry, less impatient. It's strange; one side feels like how mint tastes, the other is heady and hot. As much fuss as he made about wanting it to be cool, he actually seems to prefer the side prickling him like cinnamon.
Sucks to favor spicy shit, honestly.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
sorry for the wait dkfksd i'm trying to get over a cold
omg mood. feel better!! no rush on anything
thaanks! feeling a lot better today lmao
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Fuuuck my finger slipped and sent this too early
HAHA it's ok!
Lmao I was too eager
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)