@ pacifisting

[codominant]

[a few hasty bandaids over a profusely bleeding wound, that's probably all this is — but it stems the tide long enough for things to return to almost-normal by the time Monday rolls around. Todoroki has, as expected, recuperated from his hangover in the cool, dark, silent and blissful solitude in his room and sworn off consumption of clear Russian liquids for the foreseeable future, and seeing Midoriya in the morning is... well]

[they don't talk about it. and he doesn't want to. hopes to never, in fact, if he's allowed to have his way. there are a few times throughout the week he thinks he feels his gaze lingering on him a little too long, asking questions he doesn't have answers to (or doesn't want to), pushing his lunch around pensively as he thinks of a way to broach the topic when they're alone]

[in that, too, he gives him fewer opportunities for a while. Uraraka and Iida, oblivious as they are, make for pretty good buffers]

[...until he can't anymore, until there's blood leaking from his nose and his swollen, broken bottom lip, his back planted into the asphalt of an evacuated street by a giant's fist he wasn't fast enough to dodge, knocking the breath and the consciousness right out of him]

[when he comes to after the fight is over and Musutafu is, once again, safe, the only color he sees is — ]

Mi...dori...

[his voice is rough with pain or maybe screaming, a part of his body warm that usually isn't. is this... weight?]

Comments

I RETURN and 1/2

[codominant]

Mmn, [is the grunt that sends him off into deep, dreamless sleep, warmth and weight on his side that somehow feels foreign and familiar at the same time. his exhaustion works in his favor for sharing a bed in such close proximity with someone else for the first time; where normally his uncertainty and discomfort might keep him awake, might make him hyper-focus on the wrong parts of this, being completely sapped and sated means shutting that part of his brain off and just getting done honest to goodness rest]

[he doesn't squirm in his sleep, lays still and soft and peaceful, leaning perpetually into the comfort of another body, until a burn of sunlight starts to pierce into his eyelids, the curtains left drawn open]

[waking feels like slowly coming back into his own body, sore and tender but comfortably so — like after a hard fight full of victory or the rest after breaking some personal goal in the gym, full of accomplishments. there's breath fanning is skin that he leans away from to steal a gaze, Midoriya's repose easy and trusting, dark curls askew around his face, freckles burnt in the warm light. Todoroki feels his chest do something strange, heartstrings lacing around the organ and pulling taut as a corset, suffocating in its own right. the arm beneath that weight prickles numbly and he gives it a testing squeeze, all pins and needles, trapped beneath his solidity.]

[it pains him to wake him, but... there are places he wants to kiss on him, and he can't do it — I want to be awake to remember everything — with him asleep like this]

Midoriya. [it's low, meant to lure him back to reality rather than shove him into it harshly, his free hand raising to cup a cheek and run a thumb across his bottom lip]

[a princely gentleman, waking his lover from slumber — ]