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To say that Todoroki was surprised to see his ex-boyfriend in front of his apartment… well, to put it simply - it was an understatement. An understatement, but it’s real. It’s happening now.

Are you drunk ?

“Might as well be,” Bakugou slurs out.

Todoroki’s surprised at how wasted Bakugou is. He can’t stand straight. He has this stupid smirk on and his eyes are half-lidded and he just looks like he came out straight from the Playboy magazine. Todoroki curses himself mentally for thinking about him like that.

“Why are you here?” he asks, tightening his grip on the doorknob to the point his knuckles turn white.

“Couldn’t sleep. ‘S thinkin’ of you. Got drunk. Came ‘ere. Simple,” oh God, he is about to trip on his own feet. Todoroki is sure he’ll regret this later on, but right now he’ll act like a good person with morals and helps Bakugou get inside of his apartment. Bakugou’s breath smells of the bitter liquor.

“Come on, you’ll sleep on the couch,” he ignores Bakugou’s whines and places the ash-blonde on his couch. He’s about to turn around and get him some blankets, but what stops him is Bakugou’s too quiet, too calm voice.


Just hearing Bakugou call him by his name has Todoroki’s knees weak. The power this man has against him…

“C’mere,” he whispers. And Todoroki knows he can’t do that. Knows Bakugou is just drunk and his actions don’t mean anything. Knows that the love of his life will disappear the next morning. Yet, he obeys and kneels in front of the couch, his face inches away from Bakugou’s. Todoroki loved Bakugou’s face, he still really loves it, all the little details about it that make him look so astonishing and gorgeous and all good things at once. He has his face memorised, knows exactly where every beauty mark lays, where every scar is imprinted, knows the shape of his lips and every flutter of his long eyelashes, light at the ends but darker at the roots.

“Why did you come here?” Todoroki asks. Bakugou blinks slowly, his hand slowly reaching out to touch Todoroki’s left cheek, his thumb stroking the scarred face. Todoroki tries to ignore the tremendous beating of his heart, increasing with every touch Bakugou leaves on Todoroki’s body.

“I heard you got back from your internship. Missed you. Wanted to see you but didn’t know ‘ow to talk to you,” Bakugou whispers, his hot breath hitting Todoroki’s face.

“So you decided to get drunk?”

“Exactly,” the blonde lets out an odd chuckle, something in between a wheeze and a cough. His hand never leaves Todoroki’s face as he slowly closes his eyes. Todoroki stands up, thinking Bakugou finally fell asleep.

“Stay,” he hears him whisper. Todoroki’s heart clenches, sinks to his stomach. He can’t stay with him. Their relationship is so fucked up, Todoroki shouldn’t have let Bakugou in, he shouldn’t have let him touch him and, most importantly, he shouldn’t have let Bakugou make him feel like atlas whenever the latter looks at him.

Todoroki is so weak for him and his legs move against his own will. Seconds later, he finds himself laying next to Bakugou on the couch, his head resting on the blonde’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. Bakugou wraps his arm around the heterochromatic boy, stroking his shoulders ever so gently. The thought of it lasting for only this one night sits heavily on both of the boys’ chests. They know that as soon as Bakugou leaves this apartment, they’ll probably never see each other nor talk to each other ever again. It’s unhealthy and twisted, but their post-breakup relationship was always like this.

They're better off as friends, Bakugou thinks, but friends don't act like that, don't they? They don't desperately wish they were back where they belong, with their bodies pressed against each other and fingers intertwined. 

When Bakugou thinks Todoroki is asleep, he whispers a quiet “I never stopped loving you, idiot,” , mostly to himself. Little did he know that Todoroki never really fell asleep, especially after hearing those words coming out from his mouth.