pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[ Everyone has already told him that's what's going to happen and he knows that it's probably true. But until that point, well, he's going to do this and keep pretending like he can have a pet for a few weeks and not get ridiculously attached. ]

The goal of fostering is to free up space in the shelters, Kacchan. Besides, animals fostered by heroes get adopted out faster anyway.

[ It's very possible he won't have her very long which is...sad, but also means that the dog goes to a good home, so that's something, right? He's fought with himself constantly about it, about whether or not he can actually keep her and if he's going to be able to give her up when the time comes. He thinks he can, but that's mostly out of necessity and a determination not to think about all the ways he knows he can work around it and keep any animal he wants within reason.

Barkugou, apparently tired of them just standing, flounces off to her bed in the living room which means that Midoriya tilts his head to let him have full access to his throat, and kisses his ear lightly. ]

Hey... come to bed? You know me, I was up all night and a nap sounds nice.

[ He doesn't need one, but if he phrases it like a request for himself and not one for Bakugou it'll go better. ]

From:

dynamight

[Midoriya isn't wrong. Putting it as a request is much better than demanding, than heckling. But he lingers, takes a moment to almost nuzzle his face into Midoriya's skin, inhale quietly. This is how he stays for a long minute or two, unmoving, not speaking.

Just him and Midoriya standing in the silence, and him drinking up the feeling of the other man.

He can tell now, he hadn't been wrong. About sensing something in the very pit of him, something that felt hollow and cold up until they had meet again in person. Now it's vibrant, wanting, warm, and he thinks he can tell that these are two pieces of One For All trying to connect once more.]

I'm fucking coming.

[Finally, his arms loosen and he draws somewhat away, enough to give Midoriya room to move, room for him to shuffle after drowsily. He made a mistake attaching to Midoriya again. He's become lulled and sleepy all over.]

From:

pacifisting

[ It feels like a part of himself that was missing is back again. The Tower doesn't feel like home and it probably never will but that's fine because he knows where home is. Home is where his friends, his family are. Where Bakugou is. The fit of him against Midoriya's own body is like two puzzle pieces slotting together and tension he didn't realize he was carrying slides out of him. ]

Come on.

[ He leads them into the bedroom with the absurdly huge bed and tugs Bakugou in close by hooking his fingers into the front of his pants. The kiss he leans up for isn't aggressive or hungry, it's slower, sweeter, like he's doing it just because he wants to.

In any other context trying to get Bakugou out of his clothes while kissing would be an event. This time it's about efficiency, unbuttoning his pants, sliding his hands down to press against his hips, up over his belly gently. Later, he's going to relearn the shape of him, he's going to press his lips against every single inch of Bakugou's skin until he's satisfied but now, he wants him out of his clothes and in bed and Midoriya is nothing if not determined. ]

From:

dynamight

[The kiss is exceedingly more electric than the handling of his clothes, the touching of his skin. Those are delicious, too, but the kiss--

It feels as if it's been so long (it sort of has) since they were last able to put their lips together. At first, he's shockingly not so rambunctious, hooks a hand gently under Midoriya's chin at the throat, mostly to keep the mouth where he can reach. Slow, steady, letting Midoriya keep it that way. But the more he kisses, the deeper he makes it. Not so much speed as how starving he is for the kissing itself.

Midoriya peels him out of almost everything, and he focuses on kissing, growling only--softly--when he has to pause to get the shirt up over his head, when he has to pause for the socks. There's no way he could have swollen any bigger, but the fine lines of him seem more cut. No days spent being lazy with Midoriya; the attention had to be funneled to work. The muscles are more defined without being overly hard.

As pale as ever, though, spotted in a handful of places by unraised moles. Not freckled like Midoriya, just a cute drop or so of round melanin--on the arm by a vein, on the hip, on the inner thigh, just off-center of the back, right at the base of the neck on the left, strung between two ribs.

He bends down to hook Midoriya's knees and pull the legs out from under, dump Midoriya on the bed. It's easier to then start trying to return the favor, shedding Midoriya of the clothes so they can be ninety-eight percent skin on skin and maybe twenty percent his unavoidable hard on from enjoying all of this in general.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Kissing is one of Midoriya's favorite things to do. He has a lot of favorites when it comes to Bakugou and maybe he's a little biased because it's been ages since he was able to touch him properly, but kissing is the best. Kissing and stripping Bakugou out of his clothes so they can cuddle in bed is just icing on the cake, really, but then a hand slides to his throat and Bakugou's all hard lines under Midoriya's questing hands. He doesn't bother hiding his quiet laugh at the way Bakugou's shirt pops off of his head, stealing a teasingly quick kiss when it's tossed aside.

Just as he's starting to drink in the sight, open and appreciative, he's tipped back onto the bed with a yelp. Clumsy, less helpful and more hindrance at first until he manages to untangle himself, Midoriya tosses his shirt, kicks his pants so hard they hit the wall and pile but he keeps on his socks and his briefs on. He's hard, because of course he is, straining against his briefs but there's no focus on it right now.

Instead, he's exploring with mouth and fingertips, reacquainting himself with every inch that he can reach. A kiss to the mole on his arm after his fingertips skate over when he's fighting to catch his breath, but more than anything it's like he's checking for scars. Injuries that he was made aware of while he was gone and had no way to check. Once he's satisfied himself, Midoriya strokes a hand up from where it's at Bakugou's hip, tracing up over his belly, chest, throat, ending at his chin to pull him into another kiss.

This time, when he leans back into the plush bed, it's relaxed and both of his hands settle onto Bakugou's shoulders, easing down over his arms, squeezing. It's all one quick rush, Midoriya pressing kisses to Bakugou's mouth in place of periods and commas. ]

I missed you so much. I'm so glad you're here, it felt like I was waiting for ages, it's just a few months but it felt like years, and it's nice, everyone is so nice, and I've learned a lot, but it's not home and no one here is you, Kacchan.

From:

dynamight

[The sporadic kissing he puts up with for longer than normal really. It’s a miracle. He puts up with it right until he gets frustrated because it doesn’t continue like it should.] Shut the fuck up a minute. [So he can again suck the life out of Midoriya through the mouth once he’s settled his wide frame between knees and thighs and over the chest. Give him some time to relish what he hasn’t had in forever.

But he gives Midoriya time to breathe after, time for himself to breathe too. Instead, he runs his lips down Midoriya’s neck, over the collar bone, grazing the flat of his teeth along the swell of one of Midoriya’s pectorals. Biting without grabbing skin. He leans back, leans to one side on an forearm and elbow. He wants to explore Midoriya’s too, almost suspiciously, clinically. Assessing what has changed besides the confidence. He rubs with the damp, calloused palm of his hand, rubs the length of Midoriya’s stocky midsection, the stomach, the scars. Feels the cut of the waist and, heavy-handed, down across the groin, rubs Midoriya through the briefs with no true intent other than mapping, seeing Midoriya’s reaction instead of only hearing it through a phone.

Even if he says nothing, it’s clear he’s missed this. Bending back over, ducking his face into the warm crook of Midoriya’s neck like he knows he is going to get rewarded with fingers in his hair.

There aren’t many scars on him. Healing is easy with available quirks, leaving behind translucent-looking crescents or bands or pockmarks. The one on his hip from before, newer ones along his shoulder, his back, his calf. The things he has trouble guarding when he’s being cocky or taking risks. Nothing Midoriya should have concern for, to linger on when he’s begging for other things.]

You didn’t take One For All on purpose. [His voice is rough but low near Midoriya’s ear.] Why?

From:

pacifisting

Yeah, alright. [ Midoriya's words are soft and distant around the edges, distracted as Bakugou leans in to kiss him within an inch of his life to shut him up. Phone sex was new and fun for a while, the first month maybe, before it started being even more proof that Bakugou wasn't there and this was as close to Bakugou as he could get. Now, it feels a little like there's a clock ticking down, counting down the moments to when Bakugou has to leave again but the bite at his pecs drags him out of his thoughts.

He's in a similar state: there are little ones he's gathered here and there. A knife-wound on his side, a burn spattered across the back of his hand. Nothing worth noting or writing home about especially since the burn was the size of a yen coin. He won't let Mr. Stark put him in armor, but the protection he has now is even better and he's been sending specs back and forth with Mei, who has been taking it well all things considered.

Yanked out of drifting again at Bakugou's hand cupping his dick, skating over it, Midoriya tries to lay there obediently as long as his attention span will allow for it, fingers tracing constellations where the stars are the scars and little points of Bakugou's body he has memorized. A breath slithers out of him, shaky, and he presses his hand into Bakugou's hair right on time. Maybe they'll sleep a little and then they'll go out to eat, do touristy stuff. Maybe they'll just stay in for the night enjoying each other. Maybe -

Maybe none of that, because Bakugou's asking a valid question and Midoriya sinks into the bed, sheepish. He avoids the answer right away, instead tugging the blankets up, trying to pull Bakugou down onto him, combing a hand through his hair. ] Insurance mostly. If something happened to me... well, you're here. You should be the one to have it. You know the story behind it, I knew I could trust you if the worst happened.

From:

dynamight

Dumbass.

[A part of him (maybe all of him) already knew this was the reason. As soon as he got the text in the taxi, he knew Midoriya had mostly planned to let this happen, and Midoriya planned to let it happen as back up.] What if I had fucking died, huh? Then what? You would have never fucking got it completely back. [Some irritation is there, but mostly... he sounds worried, offers it like a giant scolding.

His face presses firmly into the curve of Midoriya's neck, petulant, though he does settle himself mostly on top of Midoriya, tangling their legs below.] I'm tired of carrying around your shitty second-rate quirk. [It feels like a jab at All Might, but... really, Bakugou is being all bark.

No way could he hate this power, something like a gift, something so incredibly strong and connected. Something that he had to learn again how to integrate with his own, something that made him a better person than before. Slightly.]

It's about time you took it back--if you're even fucking ready to handle it.

[He hasn't forgotten his conditions.]

From:

pacifisting

You wouldn't have. You're too strong for that.

[ There was a worry, of course, because he worried about all of his friends but Bakugou was one of the strongest people he knew and he hadn't yet found the limits of his power in Midoriya's mind; he was the obvious choice. Settling the comforter over both of them he lets out a quiet oof as Bakugou settles the entirety of his weight on him. Slowly, he trails his fingers through Bakugou's hair, scratching blunt nails against his scalp as they curve around to cup his head. ]

What if you kept it until I came home?

[ He's not sure if asking is going to be a good thing or a bad thing; sometimes these suggestions can go either way but Bakugou hadn't seemed too upset earlier. At least, no more upset than he normally is when Midoriya pulls something he disagrees with. ]

It's just another few months.

[ Lightly, he brings his other hand up to trace the knobs of his spine, dippnig back and forth, skimming over the blunt lines of his shoulderblades, appreciating how warm and muscled he is underneath his hands. ]

From:

dynamight

Tch. [After the scoff, he's quiet, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the assessment. A deep, hot roll of air escapes him as the fingers coax his scalp, his spine, a sigh or a silent moan. Something on the verge of content.] Nah.

You're getting it back. I said I don't want it. Mine's better anyway.

[He can't say the reason. Not yet. It's better when he can issue the surprise in a more arrogant fashion, not whispered in secret between the two of them.

The bump of his jaw against Midoriya's own is purposefully rough. A command.] Go the fuck to sleep. [One arm slides beneath the edge of Midoriya's side and shoulder, tucking. The other is free to smooth over the opposite side; rolling across each rib in succession, rounding a thumb over the chest, the nipple, back down in teasing fashion to dip below the briefs and feel the warm, solid design of hip and waist with the plane of his hand, down where the back of the thigh meets the ass to squeeze.]

If you don't, I'm gonna give you something, and it ain't gonna fucking be One For All.

From:

pacifisting

[ Relaxed, contented Bakugou is one of his favorites. Not just because all the hard, jagged edges of him are softened but because he likes knowing that this is something he can do to him. For him. There's something satisfying about being a hero, sure, but there is a different sort of satisfaction that comes with moments like this, quiet and still between them. ]

Mmmm, you're amazing either way, Kacchan.

[ Midoriya retaliates with a kiss, a loud smack of his lips just to be an asshole and then flops back onto the bed, squirming underneath him with a little mmmm as Bakugou settles against him, one strong arm easing against him. It'd be easy to say it right now, whispered in the darkness of the bedroom, low and quiet just for him but no.

When he's home. ]

You go to sleep. [ The assgrab gets a strangled yelp of surprise, his back arching what little he can when covered in the heavy weight of Bakugou's body against him. It gets Bakugou a retaliatory little smack on his ass, just a flicker of power behind it, coupled with a shiteating grin at the ceiling.. ] Some of us are trying to sleep, Kacchan.

From:

dynamight

[The smack gets what's expected: a low and rowdy growl. He doesn't let go of Midoriya's thigh, squeezes it again, holding.] Fuck off. [But he doesn't try anything else except the caress of his hand up to Midoriya's lower back; his nails are blunt but scrape the skin when he curls them.] I haven't had you in fucking forever.

[To which he plants his lips where Midoriya's neck meets the shoulder. Doesn't suck. But does bite, an actual bite this time, pinching the flesh between most of his teeth without scarring anything. It's retribution for teasing him mercilessly then telling him to calm down.

For leaving him and loving him. For being a general nuisance and thorn in his side since elementary school.]

Maybe if you'd stop fucking being... [Yet he doesn't finish except to drop into a rough grumble, close his mouth, bury his face up under Midoriya's chin and then down against the chest, breath hot and wet on the bare skin beneath.] Go to sleep already, dammit.

From:

pacifisting

Mmnnnn I know.

[ It's a low, rumbled response and his body gives an interested little shive in response to the thigh-squeeze. It's been months, which in the grand scheme of things isn't that long but it feels like ages. This is doing a good bit to make him feel better, like he's recharging a battery he didn't know ran out with some skin-to-skin contact and a little intimacy. The bite gets an actual yelp this time, surprised, flinching and laughing at the same time.

He deserves it, he can't say that he doesn't but the hand in Bakugou's hair tightens, fists in a handful and pulls firmly. It's not punishment, but he realizes too late that it's probably less a worry about punishment and more an unintentional tease. The hand abruptly releases and he goes back to combing through Bakugou's hair with a mumbled apology that's half yawn, half word. ]

You're the one doing this. [ The word "this" is accompanied by a floppy hand and another yawn, but he stops teasing and instead sinks into the bed. Against where their legs are tangled, his foot starts rubbing idly against Bakugou's leg, like he can't stop the idle affection. Quieter, a whispered confession between them while he's drowsy and warm and content: ] I knew I'd miss everyone but I didn't realize how empty the apartment would feel, or how empty my bed would be. I missed little things, like kissing you good morning. Or the way your voice goes all rough when you first wake up.

[ with a hint of tired amusement, savoring the way Bakugou's face presses into the curve of his throat, the brush of hot air against sensitive skin ] I started missing the annoying things, too.

From:

dynamight

Mn. Shut up.

[Midoriya isn't wrong. Even if he keeps his face hidden, it's wedged against Midoriya's skin, and the other man can undoubtedly feel the heat that quickly spreads to his cheeks.

He might not say it, but he agrees, he sympathizes. The little things, missed. The texture of Midoriya's fluffy hair between his fingers. The way Midoriya's smile went further than just the lips--the eyes, the brows. Every single brown drop of freckle on the skin of the face, spilling down very faintly over the shoulders, the scant few he could find elsewhere if he searched hard enough.

Midoriya saying, Kacchan, soft, questioningly that matches the fall of the face and the rise of the hands as if Midoriya can't not act. As usual. Even smaller: how thick Midoriya's lashes look laid against the cheeks with eyes shut, how the hands would fist right before release without bunching in the sheets to ruin them, still so aware of the strength.]

Like how you just can't fucking shut up when you're excited about something? [He's resting, unmoving, against Midoriya with his head tipped up just enough to keep his voice low.] How you can't stop fucking complimenting me? [They're supposed to be sarcastic teases, but he's just telling on himself unfortunately.]

From:

pacifisting

Nope.

[ He's too tired to sound smug.

The problem is, Midoriya doesn't want to fall asleep. That clock keeps counting down in the back of his mind and any moment he can stay awake with Bakugou is one he wants to be aware for. Sleeping is good, sleeping is great but it's not the same as being able to actually be with him which means he's fighting sleep tooth and nail and Midoriya is nothing if not fiercely determined and practiced at fighting against his own body. ]

I have a lot of things I love about you, you'll just have to deal with it, Kacchan.

[ The only thing about fighting his body is that eventually, exhaustion is going to win out. Midoriya's last few words are slurred with sleep and despite his best efforts, he's drowsing off entirely. The hand in his hair goes lax and limp and settles at the nape of Bakugou's neck, the other one sliding down limp against the bed as his breathing evens out. ]

From:

dynamight

[It's fine, in the end. Bakugou is much the same for all the aroused fuss he had been putting up. Midoriya is warm and firm and fits him almost perfectly it seems, and he can't resist the sharp, continuous pull of sleep. Not with Midoriya breathing deep and gentle beneath him, siphoning out all of the will to be grouchy and growly and irritable.

For a little while, he sleeps, tangled up in all of Midoriya's limbs. But his schedule is a disaster, and he wakes up, goes back to sleep, wakes up again. Carefully, as gently as possible, he unravels himself from Midoriya and the bed. Sits for a bit on the edge to try to wake himself up. He feels like garbage, having napped this way, for this long, this comfortable.

It had only been an hour and a half, judging by his phone. He slides off, gathers some of his things. Ends up piddling a minute or so in the bathroom until he figures out how to work the shower. Thankfully not a penniless hotel with a bath and shower together. But it is odd to have a full, separate shower and then a ridiculous bathtub even if he just needs to rinse off for now.

But when he comes back out, he leaves without waking Midoriya. The dog had scritched the door until he let her in, and "Barkugou" had flopped on the rug and waited before following him out once more. Here, with no one looking, he picks the dog up and gives it some attention, lets it lick his face. Then he puts it back down and goes out.

Not to explore, but maybe to explore. The tower he's still pretending to be unimpressed about, and he's more suspicious than anything else. It's business. It's meeting Pepper and being taking from one techie to another, three altogether, having his fingerprints (hates it) taken, his photo (doubly hates it) taken, and a hard, thinly metal badge made in the five minutes it takes the seventy-thousand dollar 3D printer to spit it out.

Chipped and chained.

He tries not to be rude, about as gruff as he can be with Uraraka or the other girls, with Kirishima. A bitter shot of vodka they decide to chase with patience. And then Midoriya gets a text:]

Floor 11
Phillycheese steak
I'll eat you if you don't hurry tf up.

From:

pacifisting

[ He stirs briefly when Bakugou rises but doesn't do much more than roll over into the warm spot on the bed, starfishing out. When he wakes, the apartment is empty. He stumbles blurrily around, confused, feeding the dog and fighting what feels like a sleep hangover. Bakugou's here, he didn't dream that; he's probably just exploring.

Bakugou's bags are settled by the closet and sets aside a bunch of hangers for him to hang his clothes up later, shifting some things in the dresser to make room there, too. Clothing he'd stolen from Bakugou is arranged for him to grab for later if he wants to take back; Midoriya kind of hopes that he'll be able to take some of what he brought and steal it for later but that's a bridge to cross later.

Right now, he fumbles until he can find his phone but there's nothing in his texts so he hauls himself into the shower and comes out to a text message that explains where he is. ]

Promise? :) Be there soon

[ He gives his hair a cursory blow-dry to get the dampness out, shoves some product into his hair. He dresses and then tosses a hoodie over it because it gets cool with the air conditioning and he's still not used to the way that the back of his neck gets cold with the haircut. Mr. Bakugou has been added as a registered guest to the Tower roster, JARVIS points out helpfully. The elevator dings cheerfully at the eleventh floor and then he meanders out into the chaos, finding Bakugou's spiky blond hair. He wants to come up and hug him, but he holds back instead bumping their shoulders together. ]

Hey, Kacchan. I didn't even hear you get up, I'm sorry. JARVIS mentioned you got added to the list for the Tower, though, so you should have access to everywhere.

Edited Date: 2018-12-01 04:47 am (UTC)

From:

dynamight

[The worst part about the building is it's brimming with curious, nosy Americans, and all of them keep occasionally trying to talk to him in English while he waits for Midoriya in the corridor outside one of the smaller food courts.

Mostly, they get one-word responses: "Japan," "Tokyo," since Musutafu won't mean much to silly Americans he thinks, "Nitroglycerin," which he has to repeat as simply, "Explode," because his accent butchers the other word.

Hilariously, Midoriya is a thankful deterrent, and Bakugou is banking on the other man being a decent verbal translator until he gets use to the weird English dialects here. Everyone speaks English so differently in this ridiculous melting pot of cultures. Hate.] I didn't want you to hear me. [His hands don't come out of his pockets, but he at least turns halfway toward Midoriya in acknowledgment.] I've got access to more than you think, damn nerd.

[The card comes out pinches between two fingers. He doesn't offer it to Midoriya so much as flash it, though Midoriya can probably snatch it to some mild grumbling. It's heavy, weighted. Metallic and professional, and not unlike Midoriya's probably. The only thing missing is what's being waited on for the small, outlined square in one corner. A flimsy guerrilla glue sticker infused with high tech coding the Stark needs to sign off on.]

Tell your shitty boss to hurry up and give me my damn rank access. I'm not gonna be stuck in this hellhole for the next six months with you without being able to do shit on the field.

[Maybe he should have done this when they got back to the room. Midoriya is going to end up crying in front of everyone.]

From:

pacifisting

[ He's a little sleep hungover and groggy and kind of humming with this perpetual want for Bakugou that he doesn't really want to address right now. He wants to drag him up to bed and to take him apart bit by bit, piece by piece after they get something to eat but instead of any of that he's staring at Bakugou like a fucking idiot. ]

I'm sorry, you're- what?

[ He has to have misheard. Mr. Stark would have told him. Ms. Potts would have told him. Maybe she did; she's been smiling and secretive this whole time like she knew something he didn't and Midoriya had just sort of assumed that he was getting another gauntlet upgrade which would be cool. Not that his boyfriend was going to be moving across the world to come live and work with him and that apparently more than one person had been in on it.

If Bakugou's here then he's going to need a room here and Ms. Potts probably already took care of that. He'll also need a tour of the tower and they'll be on patrol together and he's going to get to meet everyone and yeah. Yeah, he's tearing up and throwing himself against Bakugou in a ridiculously hard hug, arms tossed around his shoulders, mashing his face into Bakugou's throat. ]

Kacchaaaaaan!

From:

dynamight

[The card barely gets into his pocket before Midoriya is jumping him. He grunts, parts his arms and glances hastily around. A few people are coming and going, but no one is really hanging around, and no one is really staring.]

Dammit, cut out the fucking waterworks. You always do this shit when we're in front of everyone.

[Both hands fold over the curve of Midoriya's back, holding. There's crying, but Bakugou feels good. Pleased in a very different way than he use to feel making Midoriya cry. This crying means he did something that he was supposed to do. Not bullying, not abuse. This is happy, relieved crying, and he guesses he can't shame that exactly.]

It's not like I did it for you or anything, dumbass. [His voice is a whisper by Midoriya's ear which probably means it's one of the biggest lies he could tell.] It looks good on a pro resume. [But he wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Midoriya.

Even being a sidekick, he might not have taken pro advice to go overseas, so this is definitely all because of Midoriya. One hundred percent.] I'm leaving when you leave. Don't make me fucking regret it.

[He doesn't need another room. He said he didn't. Pepper had only looked mildly confused. "There's only one bed," she had told him. And he had just stared at her, long and hard, without answering or explaining or making excuses, and she probably understood because she didn't question it. Only gave him the okay.]

From:

pacifisting

[ The older he gets the more he starts to really realize that being number one is more a perception than anything else. There's plenty of heroes who exist on the top fifty list who make a good living, who save tons of people, who do right by the word "hero." With Endeavor holding the number one spot for so long, there's a part of him that thinks, well. It's not tainted but it certainly needs to be given to someone who actually deserves it. The culture about heroes here is different, too. Number one means something different.

Nothing has changed about what Midoriya wants; he still wants to be number one, wants to be the kind of hero that people can look at and feel relieved, can smile when they see but it's more than that. He wants to be able to be that for everyone, not just in Japan. Going here, a new place and learning from new people was the right choice a thousand times over because he feels more like he's got a handle on what it means to be a hero both to different heroes and to different civilians.

That Bakugou is going to stay here and finish out the last half of a year with him is a relief because he's been lonely, sure, but also because he feels like he is a better hero and it isn't fair if Bakugou doesn't get the same taste of all of this. This is what's fair, this is what will keep them on even ground going in. He should have known the moment he saw the card but he'd been distracted. ] You won't. I promise.

[ It takes a few minutes to get himself under control, laughing wetly into the curve of Bakugou's throat. He swipes his cheeks and dabs uselessly at Bakugou's skin with the cuffs of his hoodie to mop up tears and then swipes at his cheeks again. ]

Okay. I'm hungry and if I am you must be, so let's go get food and then you're going to tell me exactly how you ended up getting a job here.

From:

dynamight

[For a moment or two, he waits, and then, trying to hide it between them, he reaches up to swipe his thumb over one of the round, freckled cheeks to get rid of the dampness.]

There's nothing to tell, idiot. I called and told them I better have a job when I got there. Quit cryin'. I had enough of that shit from stupid hair when I left Japan.

[Honestly, it was less demanding and more a mutual kind of exchange. A request to be given a slot like Midoriya since they had been childhood friends--he used the word "friend" reluctantly, but he will never tell Midoriya this--and then U.A. classmates and graduates, and then... close semi-pro heroes.

Reviewing his work, his grades, it hadn't been difficult to get them to say yes, and he's glad he didn't have to beg the Japanese way (ass kissing) to be brought on.] Come on.

Stop blubbering and let's get something to eat. Are you eating out here with these losers or are you taking it back to the room?

From:

pacifisting

[ Bakugou's going to stay here. It's such a silly little thing but he feels a thousand times better just considering it. While everyone here was wonderful and he appreciated how kind they had been to him there's still a piece of him that wanted to be back home with all of his friends, somewhere familiar. Having just a piece of that is endlessly appreciated but having that piece be Bakugou is something he doesn't have words for.

It's not just that: this can't be easy for Bakugou. Midoriya had offered him to come and he hadn't seemed enthused so he wouldn't press the matter. Out of the two of them, he sort of assumed Bakugou wouldn't want to come, not really. Not when there was so much to do back home. Now, they don't have to do skype calls together trying to line up schedules or try to coordinate around work in order to talk to each other. Making a big deal out of it in public isn't the right choice, though, so Midoriya grabs his arm gently and resists the urge to grab his hand and hold it. ] Stop making me cry and I will.

[ His cheeks puff in mock-irritation before he drags Bakugou into the thick of it, people milling about. Some are from the Tower, some are business people occupying the other floors; Midoriya seems to know a shocking amount of them, beaming and saying hello, though he doesn't force Bakugou into socializing. ]

Let's bring it up, if that's alright? Maybe it's greedy but I don't really want to share you right now.

From:

dynamight

[Without putting up a fuss or a fight, Bakugou goes along with Midoriya through the food court. He's still craving one of the phillycheese steaks, and that's probably what he'll get.

There is an Asianesque booth, but a cursory glance only brings him dissatisfaction. It's all... Americanized. There's not any ramen, any soba, and the sushi--not even sashimi--ends up being "California roll," and "tuna roll," and "spicy salmon roll," and that's it. Damn.]

Fine. I'd rather go back anyway. [Maybe he'll ease into being able to eat in a cafeteria setting in another country with people he doesn't know, but he prefers the quiet with Midoriya and, begrudgingly, the dog.] I'm getting one of these fucking cheese and steak things.

But tomorrow, you're going to find me a fucking place that serves something authentic. I know this shithole has to have something. Tonkatsu, or soba, or omurice. This is atrocious.

[His red eyes zip from person to person who Midoriya greets, practically giving them a scrutinizing once over. There's no indication he wants to attack, but more he wants to learn customs, how they react to Midoriya, if they say anything he should remember, or anything he can pick out.

Midoriya's English has become better, too. Fuck. He has so much catching up to do. He should have just come from the start. There's no way he can let this nerd get ahead of him.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Truthfully, Midoriya will almost always eat what's put in front of him at this point. He needs to eat an absurd amount to keep building on what All Might started with his training regimen. It has the benefit of letting him be able to eat almost anything knowing he'll be able to burn the calories using One For All and the negative impact on his wallet. At least food sponsorships would be easy, he supposes. Glancing over the menu options provided, he goes with Bakugou's choice mostly because he hasn't tried it and it looks like a trainwreck. He's in.

In between standing and line and the greetings, Midoiya whispers little comments to Bakugou in Japanese. Most of them are charitable but a few he makes a face over and mouths later. ]

You'll get swarmed if we stay.

[ There's a vaguely apologetic note to his voice as he says it, eyeing the menu as they get into line. It takes everything in him not to grab Bakugou into another hug again and to keep from smiling like a lunatic but he can feel his cheeks hurting as he grins, cheeks warm, ducking his head every so often when someone passes by and greets them. Much as he wants his friends here to meet him, that's probably best not during a food rush and right when he's landed. Baby steps. ]

I'll ask for recommendations. I mostly cook if I want something really familiar.

[ He cooked before, but it's more frequent now, because Bakugou's right. Everything is Americanized and the few times he's tried things they haven't tasted quite right. Never outright bad, but it wasn't the same and homesickness was already something he had to deal with. ]