#bnhacuddleweek

BNHA Cuddle Week Bonus: Out of necessity

Day 8 (Dec 8th, Last Day): First Cuddle / [Last Cuddle]

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku

Notes: Warning for implications of character death ;;;;

ao3

Todoroki opens his eyes to find Midoriya staring at him.

He blinks a few times, and Midoriya does the same, smile growing like the confusion within Todoroki.  

“What’re you thinking about?” Midoriya asks. They’re in bed, sheets pulled up to their chins and warm air collecting with every slow breath. Todoroki feels hands stroke down his spine, and the single touch turns the puzzlement of what he was really doing before this into nothing. A peaceful blankness is what’s left, leaving his head buzzing pleasantly. “You looked kinda lost for a second.”

Lost wasn’t the right word to describe how he had been feeling. Today was… Todoroki’s day off, so he’d decided to clean up the place, too many nights away at work leaving the apartment looking unkept and neglected. Midoriya hadn’t been around, off doing something else, but Todoroki couldn’t place his finger on what it was…

“It’s nothing.” Todoroki shakes his head. That didn’t matter now. Midoriya is here, gracing him with another gentle smile, reaching with his free hand to fix a lock of hair tickling Todoroki’s ear. Todoroki watches the look of concentration he wears, cold fingers carding through thin red strands.

Midoriya shifts closer so their legs tangle beneath the sheets, allowing Todoroki to clearly admire the curls framing Midoriya’s face as he gazes up, eyes searching for a sign of something wrong. “Well, if you say so.”

The offhanded brush of the subject must’ve thrown him for a loop, and Todoroki straightens it out, tilting his head so he can follow the path drawn out for him as Midoriya guides their lips together, hand on his cheek.

He lets Midoriya handle the rest.

It’s effortless. The cracking of a joke, Midoriya falling for his own sense of humor halfway through a sentence, head thumping against Todoroki’s chest with each failed punchline. The smell of home, of fabric softener clinging to their pillows and hints of spilled cologne that they could never quite scrub out of the floor, having long since become a part of their bedroom. The occasional giggle from Midoriya when Todoroki sneaks warm fingers under the sheets and catches him by the hips, thumbs fitting nicely against the curves of muscle there.

Todoroki can’t quite remember how they got here, sharing each other’s warmth and busying themselves with word and touch, but what he does know is that it’s been a while since he’s felt like he could relax and smile properly like this.

“I love you.” Midoriya whispers, a form of greeting, a farewell, and everything in between. By now, Midoriya must’ve lost count of how many times he’s said those words already.

Todoroki keeps a tally in his head, has been for the past seven years, and adds one more to the count, sneaking it through another kiss and adding to the hum of noise surrounding the serene bubble they’ve formed around themselves. “Love you too.”

In the quiet of the bedroom, it’s the sound of their breathing, the steady heartbeat thrumming in Todoroki’s ears, and the ticking of some wound-up clock in the room that keeps the peace.

Actually, he hadn’t noticed the clock until now.

The sharp, quick sound pokes at Todoroki’s awareness, the location indistinguishable and unimportant from where he is in Midoriya’s arms. But it continues to tick. Again. And again. And again.

At some point, Todoroki doesn’t notice that he’s dozed off until he awakes, and the ticking has ceased, leaving only chilling silence. He shivers, using just enough power in his heated side to warm up his body.

Head pounding, Todoroki wipes away any traces of drool from his cheek. He hadn’t even realized the passing of time while he was-

Todoroki lifts his arm off the unoccupied side of the bed. The sheets are drawn, in the same state Todoroki had left them last night. He’s sure that if he reaches over and places his palm back on the pillow, he’d still be able to feel the warmth left by his arm, and not by someone who had gotten up for a quick bathroom break, sockless and complaining about the cold floor.

Feeling the dream slipping away, Todoroki searches, spotting the cardboard boxes by the door, the room strangely empty with a huge chunk of furniture and belongings packed away, away from prying eyes.

Todoroki reaches for his phone to check the time, remembering that he’d gotten rid of that old clock weeks ago. The sound was just a figment of his imagination, made up and forgettable compared to the heaviness weighing down his heart.

The mattress creaks and groans as Todoroki lays back in bed. He takes a deep breath, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until colors spring up behind closed lids. Only then does he stop and blink away the spots in his vision, staring up at the ceiling he’s found himself waking up to in the odd hours of the night. The burden feels no lighter than it did before, standing at the podium giving his final words.

Midoriya will need another batch of flowers soon. It’s been a few days since Todoroki has swung by. 

Day 7 (Dec. 7th): After a Victory / [In exhaustion]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki

ao3

Waking up was never a fun experience, but somehow, Kaminari is able to drag himself out of bed, throat dry and head spinning with the drop of blood pressure from rising too quickly. 

Switching on the lights of the bathroom, coupled with the sun outside, nearly blinds Kaminari’s adjusting pupils. Covering his eyes to avoid the rays reflecting off the mirror, he sets off to brush his teeth and tough out the cold water leaving the tap as it hits his face, waking him up immediately. 

His absence must have woken up Bakugou, who gets up and pads over from the bedroom, hand tucked in his shirt as he absently rubs at a sore that had likely developed over the night from sleeping on one side for too long. “Morning,” he says, expanding his jaws in a long yawn that showed off his teeth. 

“Good morning.” Kaminari smiles at him through the mirror. Being much more aware now, he can see the pronounced five o’clock shadow Bakugou is sporting, a result of laziness and the appeal of sleep over self-care. 

Bakugou doesn’t go for his toothbrush sitting in the same cup as Kaminari’s freshly rinsed one, clasping Kaminari in his arms from behind. He pauses, taking in the feeling of Bakugou’s breathing against his back, and admires the sight of Bakugou using him for support, which didn’t happen very often in this house unless someone was too sleepy to notice it, much like what Bakugou was doing now. 

Kaminari goes back to combing through his hair, keeping in mind the unspoken complaints that were surely running around in Bakugou’s mind. He was too tired to pose them, but Kaminari was sure he had some choice words for the people forcing him out of the house to socialize with the bribe of letting him choose what they would do the next time everyone got together. 

“How much longer we got?” Bakugou murmurs, eyes closed. 

“We have to be at the park in...” Kaminari looks over at the wall clock, “about twenty minutes. I’m sure everyone will gang up on you again if you don’t bring a pie this time.” 

A laugh falls heavy on his ear. He clearly remembers the crestfallen faces that greeted them when they got there empty-handed. “Of course I won’t forget. I didn’t spend all night in the kitchen for fucking nothing,” Bakugou reminds him with a look, sitting his chin on the slope of Kaminari’s shoulder.

The pie was filled, trimmed, baked, and all ready to go, left in the oven until they brought it to the picnic planned by their fellow alumni. 

“I’ll get ready,” He says, simultaneously tightening his hold on Kaminari, “In a bit.” 

summary:

If anyone had asked him what he thought he’d be doing at three that the morning, Kirishima probably would have said “playing angry birds” or “making popcorn” or something. Definitely not playing wingman-slash-relationship-counselor to a hopelessly confused Todoroki Shouto.

And yet...

There’s always a few people in the lobby’s common room in the evenings.  Some make dinner, some watch TV, some study, some play cards.  Usually as the night draws on they trickle back upstairs, slowly splitting off to their own rooms, and tonight is no different.  When Kirishima heads downstairs after an amazing, hot, steamy shower, in search of company on a Thursday night that feels like a Friday one, it’s mostly but not completely empty.

Near the TV, Uraraka, Midoriya, Kaminari, and Ashido are sitting on the couches and talking in low voices.  It’s not that late—only around midnight—but he supposes to people with something that kind of resembles a sleep schedule, it’s nearing bedtime.

“Yo,” he greets, plopping down between Midoriya and Ashido on one of the couches and leaning back, stretching his arms out over the back of the cushions.