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Assistant: Title: Breakfast Club
        Author: Winter_Waltz Winter_Waltz 
        Chapter: 1/1 
        Summary: Todoroki Shouto sits in the wooden bench that is situated in the middle of nowhere, draping his arms loftily across the back of the bench and scr@w@ng his eyes shut.Another fight- fought and lost… he internally hisses. Well done, Shouto.He tries to keep the images at bay. Tries. The insults. The swears. The yells. The shouts. Fistfuls of fire and ice. Venom spewing from his father’s tongue and his own. His sister, darting and posting herself between them, shouting for them to stop. Him, flicking an acidic glare at the hateful, hateful man before sprinting out the door, running God-knows-where. His sister, shouting for him to come back. Shouting, shouting, shouting-“What the f@ck’re you doin’ here, Half ‘n Half?”...After a heated fight with his father, Todoroki runs away from home and ends up on a freezing highway in the middle of winter, only to end up under the wing of an aggressively caring Bakugou, who accosts him with repeated questions and provides him with A) a sweatshirt B) a warm dinner at a diner and C) unexpected encouragement.But on the other side of the spectrum, Bakugou thinks he's bitten off more then he could chew.
        Contents: Summary:
            
              Todoroki Shouto sits in the wooden bench that is situated in the middle of nowhere, draping his arms loftily across the back of the bench and scr@w@ng his eyes shut.Another fight- fought and lost… he internally hisses. Well done, Shouto.He tries to keep the images at bay. Tries. The insults. The swears. The yells. The shouts. Fistfuls of fire and ice. Venom spewing from his father’s tongue and his own. His sister, darting and posting herself between them, shouting for them to stop. Him, flicking an acidic glare at the hateful, hateful man before sprinting out the door, running God-knows-where. His sister, shouting for him to come back. Shouting, shouting, shouting-“What the f@ck’re you doin’ here, Half ‘n Half?”...After a heated fight with his father, Todoroki runs away from home and ends up on a freezing highway in the middle of winter, only to end up under the wing of an aggressively caring Bakugou, who accosts him with repeated questions and provides him with A) a sweatshirt B) a warm dinner at a diner and C) unexpected encouragement.But on the other side of the spectrum, Bakugou thinks he's bitten off more then he could chew.
            
        

        
  Notes:





    
      Holy f@ck, I finally did it. My first BakuTodo fanfic! The ship that got me into BNHA in the first place! I actually wrote this fic months ago, and I hadn't even STARTED reading the manga OR watching the anime when I did- meaning yes, I did write a BakuTodo fic based entirely on my interpretations of the characters based on the plethora of fanfics I read here in, like, two days.Hooray.So, um, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! (RIP my fingers...)Also, English isn't my first language, so if you find any mistakes, feel free to point them out!- W.W.  P.S. Pls ignore the title of this fic bcuz it makes no f@ck@ng sense in the context of this fic bcuz Bakugou doesn't even eat F@CK@NG EGGS HERE WTF(Also, why am I going with the unsaid convention that eggs are only breakfast food like why... eggs have rights too...)
    

    (See the end of the work for more notes.)



  





    
        
          Todoroki Shouto sits in the wooden bench that is situated in the middle of nowhere, letting his head fall back, his nose tip up in the cool winter air and a sigh flutter out of his mouth. Draping his arms loftily across the back of the bench, he screws his eyes shut.Another fight- fought and lost… he internally hisses. Well done, Shouto.He tries to keep the images at bay. Tries. The insults. The swears. The yells. The shouts. Fistfuls of fire and ice. Venom spewing from his father’s tongue and his own. His sister, darting and posting herself between them, shouting for them to stop. Him, flicking an acidic glare at the hateful, hateful man before sprinting out the door, running God-knows-where. His sister, shouting for him to come back. Shouting, shouting, shouting-“What the f@ck’re you doin’ here, Half ‘n Half?”Todoroki’s eyes instantaneously flip open to crimson slits and a shock of ash-blond spikes. Only, the face of the explosive boy is up-side down in his vision, and when he straightens himself and looks over his shoulder, Bakugou Katsuki is scowling at him yet.“Bakugou.” He breathes, the name coming out as a puff of smoke. The blond is clad in a loose grey sweatshirt and pants, teeth barred and set on edge in his customary fashion.“Well?” the boy bites out. “Answer my f@ck@ng question- What the hell are you doin’ here?”“I…” Todoroki purses his lips. Beat. “I was merely out for a walk.” he finally lies.“B@llsh@t. You think I’m f@ck@ng dumb?” With his hands shoved in his pant pockets, the blond steps forward. “You’re on the f@ck@n’ highway, chillin’ your ass on a f@ck@ng freezing bench, wearing nothing but a freaking cotton button down. Bit too chilly for a walk, ain’t it?” he jeers. He watches as the heterochromatic male squints at him sharply. Then, he turns his head to the side, pinching the bridge of his nose, twisting his lips.“Must you swear so much?” he finally implores, looking Bakugou square in the eye, watching his temper flare.“I’ll swear whenever the hell I want to!” the blond shoots back, his retort bristling with indignation. Todoroki stares at him for a solid minute with unfathomable mismatched eyes, and just when Bakugou begins to feel an infuriating sort of uneasiness pinprick the back of his neck, the dual-haired male sighs.Bakugou gets the impression that he’s been doing that a lot lately.“Alright,” Todoroki concedes drily, rising from the bench with his hands tucked into his pant pockets. “I’ll get off of your property and let you be-““Oh hell no!”The words tumble out of Bakugou’s mouth before he can stop them, and the moment they do, Todoroki’s head shoots up to peer at him, his brows crumpling into a frown.“What?”Bakugou’s hands twitch unsurely inside his pant pockets. “I’m taking you with me. Your home’s f@ck@ng miles away, and I don’t need you keeling over on me here in the middle of nowhere,”Todoroki arches a perfectly sculpted brow. “Really now.” he drawls. “Me. ‘Keeling over’. In the cold.”“Well, you’re shivering an awful lot for someone with an ice quirk. And fire.”He watches, triumphant, as Icy-Hot’s lips go taut; his jaw tightens, and in the deepest pit of his mind, Bakugou wonders if he’s tipped him too far off the edge.“Just-shut up.” Todoroki growls –actually growls- his voice low, hands clutching at his elbows to stop their irritating knocking. He turns on his heels and makes to stalk off when a hand seizes the back of his shirt, causing him to almost stumble into the snow. He looks over his shoulder, thoroughly p@ss@d, his left side not on fire but his tongue surely is, and he’s about to give the explosive blond a piece of his mind –or a shard from his fist- when the boy’s flustered voice pulls him out of his ire-induced stupor.“Just f@ck@ng stop, you dumb-f@ck. I’m taking you to a diner and then dropping you off to your house, okay? Jesus.”Despite the cold, despite the snow that drifts and swirls in the air, Todoroki Shouto feels the chill in his heart begin to rapidly melt and an odd, annoying sort of warmth crawl up the back of his neck and reach the tips of his ears at the blonds’ words.“Why are you taking me to a diner?” his mouth supplies helpfully as he regains his composure. Bakugou has regained his as well, because his voice is no longer hushed, but the robust, roaring rumble that Todoroki is so accustomed to as he explains, “Because I’ve been jogging since f@ck@ng five in the evening and I’m f@ck@ng hungry, dammit. And this is my turf- you go where I go,”To this statement the dual-toned haired man can reply in various ways- “Why are you jogging so late?” (”Because unlike you dumbasses, I want to become the number one hero, f@ck-face.”) “Why are you jogging in a place like this?” (“Because I can, dipsh@t.”) “I didn’t know this was your turf.” (“Well, now you do, f@ck-face.”) And lastly, “You can just leave me here, you know.” (“I do what I f@ck@n’ want to.”)Todoroki sighs for the umpteenth time, not even acknowledging the irritated twist of Bakugou’s lips. He lifts a hand and waves it in front of him. “Alright. Lead the way, oh great King of Explodo Kills,”And Bakugou is about to spit out a bitter ”That’s right, f@ck@r.” when suddenly, Todoroki does the most strangest, most damnest thing.He smiles.And Bakugou feels his heart spontaneously combust.
  What the f@ck. How the f@ck. Why the f@ck. 
He’s reeling from the sudden warmth the strawberry-and-cream-f@ck@r’s smile –smile. M@th@rf@ck@ng smile- emits (it must be his quirk, his mind reasons, suspiciously persistent), his brain short-circuiting, jaw hinging and unhinging at the speed of light, and Todoroki begins to worry that his teeth are chattering from the winter chill.“Bakugou,” -Bakugou feels his heart explode once again at the Half ‘n Half b@st@rd’s soft, whispery voice, his stomach lurching at the way the male tilts his head slightly to the side to peer at him in what seems to be a flicker of m@th@rf@ck@ng concern- ”Are you alright?” Are you cold? Your face seems red-””The f@ck’re you talking ‘bout? I’m f@ck@ng peachy. F@ck@ng fine. Shut the m@th@rf@ck@ng f@ck up. ““Alright, alright,” Todoroki resigns, already exhausted by the blonds’ colorful vocabulary.“And f@ck@ng stop doing that!”“Stop doing what?” Todoroki asks, promptly tipping his head to the side. Again.Bakugou’s heart almost bursts from his chest.He flings an accusatory finger at the fire-and-ice b@st@rd.“That!” he explains succinctly, practically shouting out the syllable, as always. Todoroki blinks at him, utterly puzzled.“Stop f@ck@ng tilting you head and blinking like a dumbass, dumbass!” he elaborates, the volume of his voice not falling in the slightest- if anything, it rises in direct proportion to the heat on his face. And his face is on fire. “It’s f@ck@ng…”F@ck@ng cute, his mind supplies helpfully.”It’s f@ck@ng annoying!” his mouth comes to the rescue instead.There’s a pause, and Bakugou’s finger is still aimed at the dual quirk user when the male exhales, massaging his temple with a touch of exasperation.“I can stop doing the former,” he concedes after a moment, frowning, “but as for the latter…”Bakugou grits his teeth, fisting his hands inside his pant pockets. “Stop being a smartass.”And he spins around to stalk away, not really eager to see the way the corner of the b@st@rd’s lips perk up, not really eager to feel the miniscule action do weird… things to his heart.Todoroki follows him, sloshing through the snow silently, his shirt and pants soaked, and sleet threading his hair. They soon reach a large, aggressively beat up, cherry-red truck that brandishes a bumper sticker which boasts “SCALES MOUNTAINS”.Todoroki almost snorts at how Bakugou the vehicle is.He waits for the explosive blond to stomp to his side of the car, fiddle with his keys and then slide under the wheel. Once the car is unlocked, Todoroki heaves himself up, the height of the truck making him nearly stumble into the seat next to Bakugou.“Seat-belt.” Comes the crisp command from Todoroki’s side, and the dual-toned haired male lifts an eyebrow before quickly, silently clasping it across his front.“You own a car?” he then asks, politely.“Not mine,” Bakugou grumbles.”My mom’s- I just borrow it from time to time,”Silence. Todoroki’s elbow is perched on the windowsill, his chin digging into his palm when the truck roars to life. He startles, however, when he hears the male beside him quietly –quietly- say, “The heater’s broken, so I suggest you use your quirk if you don’t wanna freeze to death,”Todoroki frowns, turning toward the blond. “What about you?”Bakugou squints at the road ahead of him. “I’ll be fine- I jogged for hours, so I’m hot as it is,”Todoroki stays quiet, mulling over the fact that Bakugou hasn’t spewed any swears or curses in quite a while, still not conjuring any heat to dry himself. But his soaked clothes chill him to the bone, and he finds that he’s shivering. So he clenches his jaw tight, not wanting to let Bakugou see it chatter and yell at him to just use his g@dd@mn quirk when suddenly, a sweatshirt is tossed at his head, rendering him temporarily blind. He pulls the article of clothing off his face, staring down at the fabric for a second, before looking at Bakugou. But the blond refuses to meet his gaze –now clad in nothing but a black tank top- scowling deeply, his brows pinched together aggressively, and cheeks painted a vibrant scarlet.“Wear that, since you can’t be bothered to use your f@ck@ng quirk.”“But-““I’ll be fine, f@ck-face.”He should be offended, he really should, but instead, Todoroki finds himself pushing down a smile that threatens to burst across his face as he briefly unbuckles his seatbelt to drape the sweatshirt across his shoulder. Despite being the taller one of the two (“Only by two f@ck@ng inches,” Bakugou had once helpfully reminded him, and Todoroki had briefly wondered why he even knew that), Bakugou has a broader built, and thus, the sweatshirt fits him loosely, the sleeves almost reaching the tips of his fingers. He revels in the warmth the apparel provides him, making a game out of picking apart the various scents the material emits: smoke, leaves, dirt, sweat, Bakugou’s sweat...Todoroki hunches over, feeling dizzy, breathing sharply. He’s rubbing his eyes with his fingers when Bakugou announces, “Get out, Half ‘n Half. We’re here,”Todoroki straightens, peering out of the window- it’s a twenty-four hour truck stop with a diner attached that seems thoroughly dilapidated, neon lights burning bright in the night.The heterochromatic male crawls out of his seat, jumping down, feet sinking into the snow. Bakugou walks past him and straight into the diner, but not before silently pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over Todoroki’s head, leaving the dual quirk user utterly, utterly puzzled as he dazedly follows him into the eatery.Inside, the diner is all linoleum floors, checkered tablecloths, and red-leather seated booths. Bakugou makes a beeline for the register where a plump looking woman resides, and Todoroki looks their way for a second before choosing a booth and silently sliding into it. He’s frowning at a sticky ring that’s imprinted on the tablecloth that surely a glass made when Bakugou returns, catches his gaze, and murmurs, “Sorry we couldn’t go to a more high class restaurant, young master,” before sitting across from him.“It’s fine.” Todoroki replies, even though he knows very well that the teen before him is simply mocking him. He glances at the woman that sits at the register before looking back at the ash-blond male.“Do you come here often?” he finally asks.“Yeah, the old hag used to work here before, so pretty much everyone here knows me. F@ck@ng annoying, if you ask me,”Todoroki quirks an eyebrow. “‘Old hag’?”“My mom.” Bakugou elaborates.“Ah.” Todoroki nods, his expression unfathomable.There’s a mutually comfortable silence before Bakugou decides to break it, his chin in his palm, elbows on the table, scarlet slits staring straight at Todoroki. “The eggs and cornered beef hash here are pretty great.”Todoroki gives an almost-smile that makes Bakugou’s heart flutter. “Is that so.”Whereupon a waitress appears to pour them both coffee. She offers Bakugou a smile -which he totally ignores- asking for their order. Bakugou asks for his hash, whilst Todoroki sticks to coffee. When the waitress walks away, the blue and grey-eyed male proceeds to dump two packets of sugar into his drink, choosing to disregard the disbelieving look that the blond aims at him. He then rolls the sleeves of his –Bakugou’s- sweatshirt up to his elbows, picking up his drink with both hands, allowing his quirk to manifest and cool it down.All the while, unbeknownst to him, Bakugou stares at him from the corner of his eye. Todoroki’s hair is slightly disheveled from constantly running his fingers through it to get rid of sleet, wearing his sweatshirt and a soft expression as he sips his coffee. All together, it makes the thought of a completely different context pop up in his mind, and he has to take a sip of his own coffee to take away the discoloration from his face. Only, he forgets to blow on it beforehand, and his face takes on the disposition of a prune as he winces, his tongue scalded.”Are you an idiot?” he hears Todoroki huff, watching as he reaches across the table to place a palm on the side of his cup. He feels the porcelain cool down rapidly, and then Todoroki leans back, satisfied with his work.“There you go.”“Nobody f@ck@ng asked you.”They sip their coffee quietly, and Bakugou looks up from the rim of his cup. “You didn’t answer my question.”“What question?” asks Todoroki.“About what the f@ck you were doing in the middle of nowhere.”Todoroki’s eyes harden. Lips taut.“I told you,” he drawls. “I was out on a walk,”“And I told you,“ Bakugou bites out, “don’t play dumb with me! Nobody goes out for a f@ck@ng walk in the middle of nowhere, in this freakin’ cold, and wearing almost nothing and different pairs of shoes, to boot.”Instantly, Todoroki’s eyes flick to his feet, and sure enough, he is wearing two different shoes- Chuck Taylors: one blue, the other red. The laces are tied haphazardly. He looks up, not terribly amused at the way the other teen snickers.“Very funny,” he murmurs, cheeks going slightly pink. “And you couldn’t have told me this sooner?”Bakugou simply smirks in response, the glint in his eyes screaming victory, and Todoroki is glad when the waitress finally arrives with Bakugou’s stupid cornered beef hash so that the explosive blond doesn’t notice his flushed cheeks. When the waitress walks away yet again, her skirt swishing behind her, Bakugou reaches forward, moving Todoroki’s coffee cup to the table and silently scraping hash onto his saucer.Todoroki looks down at the mess of food on his saucer, then raises his eyes, frowning. “Bakugou, I don’t need-”“Quit complaining and just eat.” Snaps the ash-blond male, already scarfing down his meal. “I’ve seen you in the cafeteria at U.A. All you eat is freaking vegetables and some poor excuse of meat. Even f@ck@ng Deku eats more than you,” -He points the prongs of his fork at him accusingly- “You’re never gonna be a hero with your diet.”Todoroki is about to protest when Bakugou suddenly reasons, “And it’s freaking cold out. Just coffee isn’t gonna do sh@t to warm you up. So eat.”Todoroki’s mouth snaps shut at his reasoning, finding it sufficiently palpable, and he glances down at his food before taking a gingerly bite. From the corner of his scarlet slits, Bakugou watches Half ‘n Half’s expression carefully, feeling a sudden warmth bloom in his chest and spread through his veins when a surprised Todoroki murmurs, “It’s… good…” and tucks in completely.But Todoroki is a slow, dainty eater, and Bakugou isn’t- so his hash is gone whilst Todoroki has finished merely half of his. He calls the waitress over, requesting for more hash for himself, and then proceeds to fit Half ‘n Half with a unfathomable stare, his hands folded in front of him.“So.” He begins. “What the hell were you doing in the middle of the highway?”Todoroki sighs deeply, putting down his fork and looking at Bakugou almost tiredly. “You aren’t going to drop this until I answer, are you?”“Nope.” Comes the instantaneous reply, the ‘p’ popped.Todoroki rubs his temple, feeling a headache come on.There’s a pause.“It was my father.” He finally confesses, gripping his fork, voice strained.Of f@ck@ng course is the first thought that pops into Bakugou’s mind, and he thinks it has registered on his face, because Todoroki eyes him pensively for a second before continuing, taking a regal bite of hash to make it seem like it isn’t a big deal, “We… had a fight,” –he swallows-“things escalated… I ran away.”Bakugou snorts, ignoring how it causes Todoroki to look at him sharply. Bakugou’s second helping of hash arrives, and he digs silently in. Minutes pass in silence, nobody uttering a word, the sounds of forks and spoons against china filling the air, and Bakugou decides to speak.“Hey.” he says, his voice somehow lacking the heat he wants to manifest. He sounds, even to himself, awkward and nervous, so he decides to ignore the wary expression that Todoroki displays.“Don’t… Don’t let him get to you, ‘kay? That b@st@rd of a father, I mean…”He looks instantaneously out the window when the words leave his lips, and when he dares to look back at the dual-toned haired male, he quickly regrets it- Todoroki’s heterochromatic eyes are pulled wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar, hair framing his face softly, the dim lights in the diner doing things to his face that makes Bakugou’s pulse run a mile a minute.Finally, he speaks: “Are you… trying to comfort me?”And the effect is marred instantly.Bakugou brings his fists down on the table. Hard.“N-NO, YOU F@CK@NG DUMBASS! I’M TELLING YOU TO NOT GET YOUR PANTIES IN A BUNCH OVER THAT SH@TTY GUY WHEN I’M ONLY GONNA BEAT HIM TO GET TO THE TOP!”But it’s hard to be angry and irritated with the strawberry-and-cream b@st@rd when he is smiling at him like he is right now, his heart swelling with pride -for some f@ck@d up reason- at the rare display.”No, you won’t.” Todoroki says after a moment, picking up his fork once more, peering up at him from under his annoyingly long and dumb lashes, eyes hardening with resolve.”Because I’m going to beat him before you.”And when his lips curl around his fork in a smile, Bakugou finds that the curses and insults he’s about to spew have died on his tongue.“Fine. Whatever makes you sleep at night.” he grumbles under his breath, stuffing his face with more hash.Todoroki merely chuckles, and it is not because the sound is sweet that he bites suddenly down on the prongs of his fork and nearly bends the metal in the process, thank you very much.No, he’s just irritated.More silence. Surreptitiously, Bakugou observes the way Todoroki eats; how he brushes aside the white parts of his fringes and tucks them behind his ear before curling his lips around his fork; how, as he daintily chews, the snow-colored tufts merely escape his ear and fall back down, rearranging themselves on his forehead and framing his face softly. He seems, to the explosive blond, almost regal, with the way in which his eyelashes flutter every once in a while as he eats, catching and throwing off bits of light.Bakugou feels something tug at his heart.He doesn’t like it.“Listen.” he begins, clearing his throat, nails picking at a frayed thread in the tablecloth and eyes not quite meeting mismatched ones. “Your dad… that asshat, if-if he doesn’t treat you like anything else other that an experiment, then he doesn’t deserve your respect. Doesn’t deserve your obedience. So f@ck him.”Todoroki stares at him, his expression holding a softness that Bakugou can’t exactly pinpoint properly. Todoroki then nods slowly, the action so minimal that he almost misses it, and then looks down at his food, chewing quietly, heterochromatic eyes glazed over in thought.The waitress arrives to refill their coffee cups. Bakugou scrapes more hash onto Todoroki’s saucer.   As Todoroki wipes his mouth with a napkin, his saucer clean of hash and cup clear of coffee, Bakugou checks his phone, finding the time to be 09:45 PM. His brows jump to his hairline, eyes flicking toward Todoroki.“You done? We’re leaving,” he announces, rising from his seat.“Yes,” Todoroki nods, then stands up as well, following the ash-blond male to the register. When he sees Bakugou pluck out his wallet from his pant pocket, he taps him on the shoulder. Bakugou almost jumps at the contact, turning to look over his shoulder at the dual-toned haired male behind him.“What?”“Let me pay.” Todoroki offers, staring at him unblinkingly.Bakugou quirks an eyebrow. “You bring your wallet with you?”Todoroki’s hand slips inside his pocket, then the other. His fingers only find the fabric of the inside of both pockets. Empty.He purses his lips.“I… didn’t.” he admits solemnly.Bakugou’s lips curl up into a smirk. “Thought so.”And he turns his back to Todoroki once more, facing the register. Sifting through his wallet, he pulls out a few bills –limp and soggy from snow- and slaps them onto the counter, and Todoroki has to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation. When the lady at the register hands him his change, huffing, clearly accustomed to Bakugou’s routine outburst and thoroughly exasperated with it, Bakugou spins on his heels and stomps out of the eatery. Todoroki turns to the lady to murmur a “Thank you” before scrambling after Bakugou.It is no longer snowing, but the snow that has already fallen in now piled up almost to his ankles, crusting around the diner and the tires of Bakugou’s truck. The cool air bites at Todoroki’s cheeks and hands, so he pulls up the hood of Bakugou’s sweatshirt and unfurls its sleeves to let them drop to his fingertips. Sloshing through the snow in his mismatched shoes, not caring about then in the slightest, Todoroki notes how Bakugou struggles to salvage the tires of his truck, grunting as his palms crackle in the snow.The scent of burnt rubber punctures the air.The tires don’t budge.For a split second, Todoroki hesitates, then conjures heat in his left palm, kneeling next to the blond to melt the ice that line the tires. He can practically feel the frown that Bakugou directs at him, but he chooses to ignore it as he finishes his work and climbs into the truck and onto his pre-designated seat. Bakugou doesn’t even have to remind him to put on his seatbelt.Not a word is uttered as the truck rumbles to life and is back on the road, and it takes Todoroki a few minutes to realize that Bakugou is shivering. He teeth are clenched together to stop them from chattering, just as Todoroki did before, and the dual-toned haired boy can’t help but crease his forehead.“Are you cold?” he dares to ask.“I’m fine.” Bakugou shoots back, a little too quickly.Todoroki notes how ashen the blonds’ knuckles are as he grips the wheel. Licking his lips, he slowly reaches out with his left hand and touches Bakugou on the shoulder, curling his fingers around his bicep. Bakugou jolts.“What the hell are you-““Calm down,” Todoroki instructs, heat flowing from his palm and fingers. It passes through Bakugou’s skin and then to his chest, neck, and whole body, right down to his toes, and suddenly, Bakugou feels as though he is submerged in a warm bath. When Todoroki’s hand leaves his body, it tingles where he touched, and the blond almost misses the contact.“I didn’t ask for that,” he grumbles, his mood surprisingly tame.“You’re welcome.” Todoroki quips back instantly, perching his elbow on the windowsill and cradling his cheek with his hand as he looks out the window.He wonders how he’s ever going to repay Bakugou. He’d given him his sweatshirt to provide warmth (despite knowing the fact that he could very well have uses his quirk to heat himself up, almost like he cared that Todoroki is still reluctant about using his fire side) (he thinks he’s thinking too much); taken him to a diner and offered him a wonderful, free meal of coffee and cornered beef hash (Todoroki makes sure to remember the address); gave him a ride home; and provided him encouragement (textured with balks and insults), albeit in a very Bakugou-like fashion.Suddenly, he feels a pang of guilt shoot through his chest at having held back during the sports festival, at having snatched away from Bakugou’s hands the kind of victory that he’d undoubtedly hoped for, fought for, trained for, deserved.Todoroki wants to say I’m sorry but the words are lodged in his throat, tight and refusing to surface.So he opts for the next best thing: “Thank you.”Bakugou snaps his head abruptly to the side. “What?”But Todoroki has already fallen asleep, his left temple pushed against the window.“Oi, Half ‘n Half, wake up. We’re here. Dammit, wake up.”A hand on Todoroki’s shoulder shakes him gently- a motion he is unfamiliar with. He wants to snap his eyes open, but he’s sleepy- so, so sleepy. He blinks himself slowly awake, scrubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his –Oh, wait, Bakugou’s- sweatshirt. Bakugou’s voice is soft and scratchy at the same time, like he hasn’t used this tone for any occasion, and Todoroki finds himself staring dazedly at the ash-blond male.“We’re here?” he echoes, dazed, voice hushed and raspy from sleep, hair askew, mouth slack, eyes still half-lidded. Bakugou feels his stomach twist into knots and his heart try to jump out of his ribcage at the –precious, his brain supplies helpfully, stupidly- sight.“Yeah,” he murmurs, clearing his throat, suddenly feeling awkward and wanting to beat himself up for it. “Now f@ck@ng get out.” The moment the words leave his mouth he feels horrifyingly guilty, and he wants to beat himself up for that, too.(For even feeling guilty, that is. Not because he is guilty, f@ck.)But Todoroki is clueless about his moral dilemma, instead choosing to nod slowly, then unbuckling his seatbelt with heavy, lethargic fingers, then almost stumbling out of the truck. Bakugou presses his lips together, holding down the laughter that threatens to bubble up his throat.“Get some f@ck@ng sleep, @ssh@l@.” he advices the dual-toned haired male, the nonchalance in his voice not entirely artificial. Todoroki looks up at the blond and nods, before turning and trudging up to the gates of his home. They open automatically, revealing a woman on the other side, wearing a knee-length dress, jacket, and with red streaks in her ashen hair.Probably his sister, Bakugou notes in the back of his roving mind, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the dashboard. Todoroki suddenly turns, catching his gaze. The half ‘n half male then raises his hand, the sleeve of the sweatshirt falling to his wrist, and opening his palm halfway, he sways it from side to side.He’s waving.His expression is unfathomable, but the sentiment is still there, and Bakugou has to push down another bout of laughter at how unsure Todoroki seems of the gesture.Cute, he thinks unexpectedly, and immediately flusters. What the actual f@ck, brain. Holy shit.“Yeah, whatever.” he gripes under his breath, knowing he can’t hear him and flicking his wrist at the other male. He’s surprised to see the ghost of a smile grace Todoroki’s lips before he steps past the gates and disappears.And what is even more surprising –and irritating- is how the image of Todoroki -with his ruffled hair and baggy sweatshirt, waving at him- sticks to his skull for longer than it should, like bees to honey, even as he drives his way back home, even as he parks the truck in the garage, even as he kicks off his shoes, even as he tosses the keys into the hard orange plastic bowl that sits on the windowsill in the kitchen, even as he greets his father and dodges his screeching mother, even as he trudges to his room and slams the door shut.And only when he launches himself unceremoniously on his bed does he finally realize one thing.He forgot to take back his sweatshirt....But he gets it back the next day, his sweatshirt, when he’s graduated to the rooftop during lunch time, too sick to watch Kirishima and Kaminari’s incessant flirting with each other in the cafeteria to stay there. He’s perched loftily on the edge of the roof, lunch tray balanced on his knees, legs dangling, teeth biting into a sandwich when he hears the cool, clear voice.“Bakugou.”Bakugou is proud to say that he isn’t easily startled. He isn’t. But ever since their outing, the sound of his voice is permanently accompanied by these strange, f@ck@ng filthy butterflies that practically dance inside his stomach and images of him, in his sweatshirt –that he still hasn’t returned yet, that @ssh@l@- waving softly at him, so yes, he isn’t easily startled, but now he is.He almost drops his sandwich. And lunch tray.“Bakugou?”“Jesus f@ck, you’re like a ghost.” He turns to look at him over his shoulder. “What?””Ah.” Todoroki Shouto stands stationary behind him, looking prim and proper as per usual, not at all like he had been the previous night. Bakugou is so busy trying to pin down the look in those mismatches eyes that he almost misses how he holds his hands behind his back.Almost.“What’re you hiding?” Bakugou asks through a mouthful of tomato and lettuce, jerking a finger in Todoroki’s direction. Todoroki’s head dips, and Bakugou finally realizes what the look in his eyes is.
  Nervousness.
Bakugou almost chokes on his sandwich.Todorki steps forward, stretching out his hands which hold his sweatshirt which is neatly folded, the creases and wrinkles gone, wrapped snug in a plastic bag. He holds it out like a peace offering.“Um. Thank you for lending it to me. I’m sorry I forgot to return it to you yesterday, so I got it dry cleaned. I hope you don’t mind,”Bakugou sets down his lunch tray, holding his sandwich between his teeth, taking the sweatshirt silently, mind churning for some kind of insult. And failing.Todoroki’s hand falls to his side, and when the ash-blond male looks up for the sweatshirt and at the other boy, he is dazzled by the sweetest, most shy smile that flings his heart across the expanse of his ribcage and makes blood rush to his cheeks and ears and neck and so, so much more.”And thanks for the hash,” Todoroki says softly, like he’s telling him a secret meant just for the two of them. “They taste great.”And he turns to walk away, leaving the sweatshirt in Bakugou’s hands and taking his heart in its place.Bakugou’s sandwich falls from his teeth.For the umpteenth time, Bakugou realizes that he’s f@ck@d. Royally.But for the first time, Bakugou realizes something else, too.He’s is love.And also, Todoroki owes him a sandwich.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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