[Maybe whispering in his ear with earm and fruity-bubbly breath isn’t the best. He honestly wishes they had never left the apartment. One shoulder hikes up to bump Midoriya in the chin, not exactly a disinterest so much as an attempt to keep his dignity under something which makes him tingle all over. Midoriya hadn’t even fucking said anything remotely dirty!!
The soup is half finished when his hand finally goes back beneath the tablecloth. He gropes a moment—still won’t look at Midoriya—until he can find the other’s hand. He returns the earlier sentiment; threads their fingers together and keeps the hand hostage against his poor, damp palm.
For a bit, he bides his time. Let’s Midoriya carry on, thinking maybe he won’t ever talk back. He even talks just briefly with Todoroki. And then he turns his head to peer fully at Midoriya, to catch the other’s eyes and give a kind of beckoning glance. He squeezes the hand below the table once. Thankfully, he’s mostly settled again now that he can control what Midoriya’s hand is doing.
When Midoriya leans in, he tips his chin and puts his lips over the shell of the other’s ear.] Who do you think sitting at this fucking table wonders what your mouth feels like swallowing them up—besides me?
Is there a hero statistic for the look on your face when you’ve got your mouth open waiting for what I’m gonna put in it?
[ It's not a no or a stop, but they're back to holding hands and Midoriya's content with this for the time being. The second course comes and he picks at some kind of shrimp...situation but truthfully he's too focused on the way Bakugou's fingers are laced in with his. Maybe some people worry about sweaty palms but Midoriya feels like his are constantly clammy and terrible to hold; he almost apologizes for it but bites it back barely.
Things go normally for a while; he only needs one hand to eat and it's nice to catch up with everyone. More than that, there's a ridiculous thrill that goes through him, holding Bakugou's hand in secret. While he realizes a good part of it is probably to keep them behaving, the rest of him feels like a dumb high schooler again, with his crush actually holding his hand. When he's beckoned over, he leans in, and oh, yeah, okay, maybe whispering in Bakugou's ear earlier was a little cruel because his stomach flipflops abruptly and then what he says registers and Midoriya drops his fork straight onto the plate.
Thankfully, it's loud enough around them it's not too bad but everyone stops and looks at him and he flusters further, waving it away. You know him, clumsy, it's fine, everything's fine, don't worry, so sorry. His face is bright red and Uraraka is watching him, her gaze shifting to Bakugou's, eyes narrow and considering but not saying anything. He's fine. It's fine. He's totally cool. Midoriya inhales through his nose and squeezes Bakugou's hand fiercely until he trusts he can keep his shit together. Then, he leans over again because they're both terrible and no one is sitting between them to stop them.
He's not...great at dirty talk, in his mind. He's good at observational talk during sex, because that comes easily to him but actual, intentional dirty talk is... well. He's working on it. It takes a solid few seconds for him to steady himself and figure out how to word this so he doesn't die of embarrassment, but: ] Does it matter what anyone else thinks when the only one I think about going down on is you?
[Though bothered by a lot of what Midoriya is doing to him in punlic, he isn’t bothered by squaring up to someone actually looking, seeing. Not that Uraraka can see his hardon, their hands clasped. (Shit, he didn’t even consider if someone had a quirk that could. Fuck! What paparazzi wouldn’t invest in x-ray vision?)
Whatever. He doesn’t flinch under Uraraka’s scrutinizing gaze. In fact, he keeps staring in her direction when Midoriya whispers to him again. Geez. He’s going to have to work more magic, not that he thinks he can save this nerd. It’s... a little endearing. That Midoriya struggles with something he can excel at. Great.
Best At Dirty Talk.] Pathetic. [Finally, his eyes drop to Midoriya. About time he has the upper hand. His lips tip toward Midoriya’s cheek and ear.] You could’a at least fucking said the only cock you love squeezing your lips around is mine. [They are pushing their luck so much. Iida is telling then to stop whispering impolitely during speeches. He wants to give the middle finger; instead he gives Midoriya something else:] You’re going outside with me after during the fucking break.
You’re gonna regret making my dick hard under this table.
[ He had about ten total minutes of being able to handle this without blushing like hell and now that's over, because Bakugou called his fucking bluff and he's trying not to wither away but also pay attention at the same time. Multitasking. It's fine. He's fine. This is totally fine. It's a double standard to be talking about how he won't blow him in the bathroom but he's sitting here borderline dirty talking at the fucking dinner table and he knows he's going to pay for it later.
Maybe his commentary was a little too...honest, though. He'd meant it as a compliment, but now he's over-thinking it. It's not a declaration of love or anything ridiculous, but that's probably not the thing you say to your friend-rival-thing with benefits, right? Is that weird? He feels like it's weird. Maybe it's not. Maybe maybe maybe-
Midoriya sits straight up as soon as Bakugou finishes and yeah, there's no way he's hiding his blush, determinedly looking at his plate as he mechanically shovels food into his mouth to keep from saying anything else and to at least play at not being a disaster of a human being. Iida gives him a look for the faux-politeness and he shrugs, like he's not the one who instigated this, sort of. Sorry he mouths and only twenty percent means it. Maybe ten.
Someone else is giving a speech and he tries his best to pay attention but all he can think about is the promise-threat and how he feels like he's burning and he can smell, faintly, Bakugou's cologne. He never should have sat next to him, they knew better. Midoriya cups his water glass and takes a long drink and then dares to lean back in his seat, voice low but not leaning in so Iida crawl across the table and shake them. ]
I don't think I will.
[ Regret it, that is. Besides, he's half-hard in his pants too, though he's doing his level best to stay focused on literally anything else but that. ]
[On the other hand--not the one clasped finger-tight under the table with Midoriya's own--Bakugou can barely eat anything. He's hungry, but the hunger feels deeper than simply food consumption. It isn't about the delicious meal painstakingly prepared for them. It isn't a hunger he can satiate so easily.
It's soul food?
It's a burning, hard pressure in the center of his chest, and he's not half as red as Midoriya, but close enough. The two of them look absolutely ridiculous sitting straight, Midoriya, and slumped away, Bakugou, linked together by two arms weirdly disappearing below the tablecloth by their thighs.
From across the table, Kirishima finally kicks him in the shin to get his attention. The sharp teeth are on full display when Kirishima grins big, and then the guy makes pointed motions at the food on the plate. Not for himself, of course. Bakugou's eyes drop to his own. To everyone else, though not Midoriya probably, not Kirishima, he looks angry and sour. But the exact expression isn't anger. It's worry, uncertainty.
The fingers around Midoriya's hand squeezes faintly before drawing away. They're damp, but warm and red from holding, and he rubs the back of his neck after bringing the arm out of the tablecloth.
No one is talking again yet. The low lull of conversation feels safer. He turns and gets out of his chair, except toward Todoroki so he doesn't have to see Midoriya's large, round eyes peering up at him with concern and confusion. There's no glancing back, not to anyone, even when he can feel some eyes on him, following him down along between the tables and seats--it looks like he's headed for the bathrooms but there's a corner of a hallway and after he's around it, he's out of sight.]
[ He's been distracted enough times and had to force himself to eat that this isn't too bad. He can shovel appetizers into his mouth while people talk to him, at him, and not make too much of an ass of himself. Bakugou's barely touched his and while it was kind of cute at first, it's actually a little concerning because Midoriya doesn't know if it's because of the teasing or something else.
No one's paying attention to them in the dim lit room, he's relatively certain but then Kirishima manages to get Bakugou's attention and is smiling not unlike the shark he's compared to often. Midoriya ducks his head and focuses on those shrimp again, letting the hand slip away. Maybe this is the turning point, right? Maybe this is where he'll decide that they're doing this to rile each other up, so why not do it...for real? Bakugou isn't huge on the public displays of affection thing as far as he can tell, but Midoriya likes the idea of thinking boyfriend, or holding his hand at stupid movies.
Bakugou shoves up from the table and leaves, which normally would be explained by a bathroom break if it weren't for everything else. Midoriya sits straight in his chair a few moments longer, glancing over to watch him go, torn between following and letting him do whatever he needs. In the instant Bakugou's gone, though, Uraraka kicks him, seated next to Kirishima and mouths WHAT WAS THAT. A glance at Kirishima reveals raised eyebrows.
Okay.
Maybe not as subtle as he thought. He shrugs and times it, but if Bakugou's not back in a reasonable amount of time to pee he's excusing himself and going after him. ]
[Midoriya has a wait which grows increasingly more worrisome the longer it continues. Longer than a bathroom break, but not quite long enough to be a total runaway bride.
Bakugou doesn't come back out from the hallway because he's already removed the suit jacket and dropped it on the sill of the tall reception window, uncuffed and rolled up both sleeves to his elbows, shoved his hands into his pockets.
He's got his phone, but it's silent for the event and in his pocket, and he doesn't even think to bring it out to check for the texts he knows he's probably getting, the ones he doesn't want to exactly leave on read. So now he's left with just himself, peering out the window at nothing in particular with the distant thrum of noise from the other room siphoning through the mouth of the hallway.
As surprising at it is, he's patient for the moment. He waits.]
[ A few minutes in, Uraraka kicks him. Then Kirishima. First of all, ow? Midoriya whispers, betrayed. His friends who are actively the worst, gesture to the doors in a clear well? so obediently, he scoots back from the table and goes Bakugou hunting. Waiters are milling about giving out round three so he's able to escape with hopefully no one tracking him but once he's out into the hallway he exhales, relaxing a little.
There aren't many people here blessedly, so he can start looking for Bakugou and then- ah. He's standing by the window and Midoriya tries not to worry, but... ]
The others were wondering where you went.
[ Midoriya doesn't touch him, doesn't come too close. He stands by the wall and leans against it, watching his profile for a moment and then looks down at his shoes. ]
[When the familiar green head comes around the corner, Bakugou only turns his head just enough to glance that way. It's brief; he looks back out the window without moving, without taking his hands out of his pockets.
The declaration about the others gets a soft, barely heard grunt.
He waits a moment, but Midoriya doesn't get any closer than the wall, and out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Midoriya watching him with nervous expectancy.] Come here. [He still doesn't move, not until Midoriya finally gets closer to him. One hand comes out of his pockets, and he snakes the arm heavily around Midoriya's shoulders and neck.
The flip is quick and solid; he swings Midoriya around so they almost trade places, but he follows up by bulldozing himself into Midoriya's front and pinning Midoriya's back into the rough, jutting edge of the window sill and wall. The head, at least, doesn't thunk with his arm in the way, but it does when he squeezes them together and goes hungrily to town on Midoriya's mouth like he threatened would happen.]
[ Midoriya's pretty sure he's not mad. Relatively certain. At least 55% certain. If he were actually mad he would have made a scene, or bitched Midoriya out in private and that would have been that. The fact that he left means that he was probably expecting that Midoriya would fuss and that he would come after Bakugou.
He comes closer as he's told to, moving on instinct rather than anything else and then abruptly, he's flipped and shoved up against the wall in the hallway. There's no stopping the sharp noise of surprise he makes, pressing a hand against Bakugou's chest before he realizes it's fine, there's no one else out here but it's a far cry from a bathroom. At least a bathroom has stalls and some measure of privacy but an abandoned hallway at a huge hero gala is not exactly ideal.
There are fifty ways this could go wrong if they aren't careful, but despite his mind going over each and every one of them Midoriya parts his lips and winds an arm around his waist, kissing him back. Where concern and time had cooled him down a little bit, all of it comes roaring back the moment Bakugou shoves him into the wall. Bad idea, worst idea, the most terrible of ideas he knows, but Bakugou smells delicious and Midoriya wants to eat him alive, wants to take him apart and out of that suit and they're only on the third goddamn course. ]
[They're not standing in the middle of the event room--they might as well be for how subtle the two of them are--but it's not the best place in the slightest. Anyone could come out further down the hall; anyone could come around the mouth and spot them immediately.
He doesn't seem to give much of a shit.]
Shut up.
[It's not an asking or a beg, it's a command, but it's actually delivered a lot softer than most of his usual commands. A hot, hoarse grumble between them. He doesn't give Midoriya time to refuse, to comment; instead, he keeps Midoriya's mouth busy with his own. The meal is there, but barely. It tastes more like champagne than anything else and, if anything, this seems appropriate to him for someone like Midoriya.
He slaps the edge of Midoriya's jacket out of the way and, gentler, still needy, feels what he can of Midoriya's side and hip through the shirt with his palm. Warm from the two of them fooling around, being confined by suits.
The kissing slows without losing its edge.] Don't [A kiss.] fucking [A kiss, sloppier.] rub [A kiss, on one side of the mouth, missing.] my cock [a kiss] under the [a kiss] goddamn table.
[His fingers get a fistful of shirt beneath the jacket at Midoriya's back. It isn't about getting off here. It's the fight to rile each other up; a chicken fight to see who will say quit first. He yanks a portion of the shirt up, dips his hand below and feels the skin there with his fingers, his hand.]
[ They are going to get murdered, brought back and then murdered again by approximately twenty people if they get caught. That's enough to keep him from getting too invested in the proceedings all the way up until Bakugou starts talking and Midoriya folds like a wet paper bag. The yelling is one thing, but it's this, the low, raspy growl, the impatient hands, all of it together that makes Midoriya's stomach twist with want, makes him think about all of the rules he's supposed to be following and shoves those straight out the window.
Technically, he supposes no one can see him unless they're approaching from the sides and Bakugou's reflexes are great. They'd totally hear someone if they came out this way but most everyone else is focused on the food. They'll be fine. Besides, he's short enough Bakugou could probably hide him and Midoriya could duck his head, and that'd...well, it's not a great plan but it would buy time. ]
I was just trying to rub your thigh, you were the one who decided to try and shove it into my hand, Kacchan.
[ Pinned against the wall gives him something to brace against; he presses his foot back against it, angling his knee up and fits his thigh neatly between the muscled lines of Bakugou's giving him something to grind down on. He's careful not to push his hands anywhere that'd upset Bakugou's outfit too much but he does shamelessly stroke his hand over his jaw, tracing up over the curve of his ear, stroking through his hair gently so he doesn't muss it beyond fixing with no mirrors. His thigh pushes up, deliberate, and Midoriya fits his hand to the nape of Bakugou's neck, fists a hand in the short hair there and pulls in conjunction with a low, filthy grind, watching him intently. ]
[As soon as the knee lifts, Bakugou realizes he's in trouble, they're both in trouble. His thighs part, wordlessly turning him into a real slut, and then they close tightly back over Midoriya's leg.
The whole of his face bunches, like he wants to be angry, like he's about to be angry, but the held breath ruggedly shakes out of him when he releases it, and the expression fades quickly into something resigned, flushed, pleased. When he bites his bottom lip, it nearly bleeds.
Once he returns the grind, he freezes, leaning heavily into Midoriya's body. His head ducks down without tossing the hand off, and he presses his forehead into Midoriya's shoulder, frustrated. Then he presses it into Midoriya's neck at the collar of the shirt, breathes a:] Fuck. [like he knows this is a bad idea and wants not to care. He's quiet for so long, heavy on Midoriya's chest, breathless, half hard, smelling sickeningly sweet.]
I want to wreck you. I want to destroy you. I want you... so fucking badly.
[What he doesn't notice is the smoke. The fog? Iridescent like the soap and oil in bubbles, but thicker. It spills low on the floor, heavy, out from the event room and into the mouth of the hallway. The tendrils of it stretch slowly out, pushed along by the rest that just keeps coming. In the distance edge of the room, along the boundaries of where everyone is gathered: more smoke, the sudden lack of much sound, the scrape of chairs.]
[ Midoriya knows he's got him the moment that happens. His lips twist into a pleased little smile and he tugs playfully at his hair lightly this time, smoothing his fingers down the nape of his neck gently a moment later. He loves looking at Bakugou like this, flushed and wanting and all worked up because of him. It's different from the thrill that he gets when they're fighting, sparring against each other but it's still delicious. ]
I want you to. It was all I could think about when you were dressing up, you look so good and I - I. Uh.
[ He's been sort of keeping an eye on the door just in case they have to act like this is just a really enthusiastic hug, but there's smoke starting to lick out from underneath the door, almost iridescent when the lighting hits it. He's entirely distracted from Bakugou in a heartbeat, staring at it and then he pushes at him. ]
There's smoke. Kacchan.
[ They're both flushed and a little messy but Midoriya doesn't care because he doesn't know what that is but it can't be good. ]
...I'm gonna lose the bet, aren't I.
[ They're absolutely about to get messy and his nice suit is going to be ruined. One more kiss, and then Midoriya slides off his jacket, giving Bakugou a lopsided smile. ]
[Bakugou's heart leaps into his throat the moment he twists back to glance behind him. Smoke. There's no roaring of flames, and it's not floating at the ceiling--it's on the ground.]
What the fuck? Don't breathe it. [He's stunned by the kiss not because he gets it but because of the smoke, the fear. He shields Midoriya when he turns around. Fuck.] Out the damn window, we'll go around.
[On the way, Bakugou wants to know why the hell anyone in their right mind would attack a gala housing this many heroes. A bold move, but a stupid one it felt like? This many registered do-gooders who could kick your ass, and some moron... No. The League. It's gotta be the damn League.
Getting back in elsewhere gives them the element of surprise, though also offers them an equal amount. They're not wrong: it's the League, a few of them. The smoke isn't exactly like the smoke from the camp, but similar enough. The floor and tables are littered with unconscious people--their classmates. He's a lawful jock, hot-headed, wants to rush in, and it takes Midoriya's incessant reassurance for him not to do it.
Working together is something Bakugou's grown more use to over the years. Instead of trying to relegate himself to the front, the best, he's willing to focus on the victory of helping others. But he's still powerful, and he knows his quirk isn't made for saving so much as destroying. The building doesn't stand up against his rallying. The building doesn't stand up against villains willing to use friends and allies as leverage.
For once, there's something more important than winning.
Katsuki Bakugou gives up his assault when Midoriya crumples beneath the broken rubble of the building. It's about Izuku, but more than that. It's about Deku. It's about One for All. It's about All Might handing down one of the most prized gift, and Bakugou refuses to just let Midoriya go down, be smeared into a stain like the man isn't going to become Number One.]
DEKU! [The slab of cement rolls away, and he trips when he tries to slide into the opening, curses as the skin is stripped away along his leg, his pants doing with it. There's hardly anything left of his shirt, his tank top. Dust and blood cover his face and his shoulders and arms, but he reaches down to hook his hand carefully below Midoriya's neck, thumb smoothing the cheek in front of the ear.
The touch is too light, like he thinks Midoriya is dead, like the neck will just twist in his hand and show it's snapped.] Deku, you fucking bastard, open your damn eyes! [Please.] Izuku! [Stone shifts.
He barely gets to glance over his shoulder when another cement slab is lobbed down on top of them. It snaps against the hole, but covers it, hit him solid in the back and knocks the wind out of him. He slips further into the alcove and lands on top of Midoriya with a strangled wheeze and then a fit of coughing.
Killed him, he thinks. He finished the job, not unlike All Might. The new Symbol of Peace and Hope is destroyed by him again, and he growls hoarsely and airily in the dim confines of the collapse.]
[ Being a hero means going into dangerous situations. It means acting first and thinking later, doing his best to save as many people as he can, when and however he can. It means having the power to protect his friends and if he can't do that, what's the point? They'll be fine, though. They still have so much that they need to do and there are countless heroes here. While Midoriya can recognize it's the perfect place to attack if they're trying to take all of the heroes out and while from a strategy standpoint it's sound, he hates it.
For a while there's nothing but chaos. Half of the other heroes are out of commission if not all of them and for a while there's nothing but the pounding of his heart and the crackle of One for All mixed with Bakugou's explosions. Sweat drips into his eyes and he swipes a dirty hand against it, smearing dust and grit across his skin but keeping the sweat out of the way as much as possible.
Bakugou takes a hit Midoriya should have seen coming and he chokes out a mangled version of Kacchan! and then the building is collapsing. There's nothing he can do besides try and punch the debris out of the way and save as many people as he can with what he's got but even that isn't working. Bakugou's nice suit is going to be ruined he thinks fuzzily, one minute fighting and the next an impact hits him hard enough it takes him a few moments to pull himself back together. He comes to with Bakugou over him, coughing viciously and when he tries to lift his arm to reach out to him it doesn't feel like it's working. He raises his left instead and fits a hand around the muscle of Bakugou's forearm. His mouth is dry, dust in his eyes and sprinkled in Bakugou's hair along with smears of what he's pretty sure are blood on the other man. ]
Kacchan, are you okay?
[ He's clearly not. Neither of them are, but they're heroes and they have to do something. Slowly, he creeps his hand up through the mangled material of his jacket and Bakugou's arm, gripping it. His smile is trembling but he puts as much certainty into it as he can, adrenaline thrumming through him. They can't see covered like this, so he tries to focus as much of his quirk into him as he can, flickering lightning lighting Bakugou up in shades of soft, sickly green. Please be okay, Midoriya thinks toward anyone listening, and feels the building rumble around them. Some of the villains are down and other heroes are up, they have to be, which means they just need to get out of here. ]
[Worst than the shoot of fear he had at the beginning of all this is the drop of relief he gets when he hears Midoriya's voice by his head. Fuck. A ragged, strained cry--it's a cry, almost like a yell but he can't--busts out of him.
He sags on Midoriya, one hand clutching at the edges of cement and the other still looped around Midoriya's neck. His forehead rests on the other's shoulder, and he tries to steady his breathing with the slowly limiting oxygen.
One for All--the strangest sensation still when it ghosts over him, something he remembers from how it reached out to tickle him when Midoriya fought him in the street and came so close to hammering him with a leg. He groans softly from it; the sound is exhausted, pained.
Something warm is pooling at his hip, something that makes the scraps of shirt and tank top stick to him. Reaching carefully back, his fingers slip around a thin, wiry beam, and he hisses when his hand bumps the exit in the meaty section of his back at the hip.] Don't... move... [It's going in through the front and out the other side, but feeling down... it missed Midoriya's waist by millimeters.
He can't believe he's thankful.] Son of a bitch... [He lets his head rest against Midoriya for a little while longer, then lifts it to peer up into Midoriya's face.
The free hand he braces on the stone above--his palms crackle, and sweetness engulfs them. Then his hand slumps back down.] Too close... It'll fucking kill us... [And he can't turn around to blast backward, to get the slab off them.]
[ It's harder than he expects to get any idea of what's going on. It's dim and every so often the building shifts, rumbles around them. They're useless like this, trapped under here and all Midoriya needs to do is figure out how he can lift this rubble off of them. That's the easiest option, right? They shouldn't need other heroes to come after them and save them, they've been at this too long.
In the flickering light he can see Bakugou's messy hair and the shadows of the building around them. He lifts the arm that's cooperating a little bit more and...ah. Not great, then. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he shifts his arm around and tries to see if there are any bits of light creeping through where they're trapped but there's nothing. Limited oxygen, then, in addition to the two of them being here and sharing space. There's debris to contend with, too. Gingerly, he pulls the handkerchief out of the ruins of his suit and rips a strip of material off of his outfit. They're makeshift bandanas to cover their mouths and keep from inhaling too much dust, but at this point he's not even sure it's going to help.
Don't move, Bakugou says and Midoriya rasps out a laugh in response, his chest aching. ] I don't think I can, really.
[ Bakugou's a heavy weight over him, but there's warmth sliding down his side. He doesn't...think he's injured on his side, but everything feels fuzzy and distant and hard to concentrate on. Swallowing, he watches Bakugou's hand lift and then there's a faint crackle, but the cement is too far down on them, the space too small to do anything without risking blowing them up too. Shit. They'll be fine. They have to be fine. They've escaped worse than this before, haven't they? The wetness he feels makes sense at Bakugou's next words and the chill that sweeps through him makes his stomach turn in a way that has nothing to do with being hurt. ]
Alright. We... we're gonna stop that first. Don't move. [ His good hand starts feeling around, starting at his shoulder and working down until he feels cold metal and fear grips him. They can't remove it without making it worse, but there's no way to bandage this either. Think. ] Kacchan, can you reach your phone? We might be able to use the light, or text someone.
[ He tries groping for his in his back pocket but it's a pain in the ass to try and do with weight on top of him and minimal room to move. When he pulls it out, it's shattered, but it turns on and his head thunks back against the wall in relief. ]
I'm gonna try and put pressure on your - on the - [ His voice cracks, because there's no good way to say the metal gaping out of Bakugou's torso. Fabric rips wetly after he's settled his phone on his chest and then he starts winding it around the top half of where the metal juts out, holding off on pressing down too hard until he gets the okay from Bakugou. ] Okay?
[For a long time, Bakugou doesn't move again. He doesn't say anything, only breathes, raspy, like he's trying to conserve energy, air, or maybe like he's ready to pass out.
When he does move, it's careful and only as much as he needs to without shifting his body. His face grimaces, though, pauses. The pain that's starting to filter in breaks him out in a cold sweat, and he quivers gently on top of Midoriya despite how much he hardens his muscles to control it.
Getting his phone out has it in the same condition as Midoriya's. The screen is smashed. He drops it on Midoriya's chest by the other phone; his fingers keep slipping off the button, but no matter how many times he presses it, the screen won't light up.] God fucking dammit!
Shut the fuck up. Whatever.
[He's scared, in a way. About dying, but not even necessarily that. About being so useless. Again. About being shoved to the sidelines when he can be trying to do honest hero work.] Just fucking do it. [The fingers fiddling behind him cause him to draw a sharp, ragged hiss.]
Do it.
[The moment Midoriya does, white explodes behind his eyes, and he growls sickly in the back of his throat.] ...Stop... I'll... vomit... [The quivering is worse. He's still again for some time before trying to move his numb, tingling arm.] We've... gotta get... you out... [It's a useless effort to shove against the cement above them, only sprinkles down dust.]
[ He thought that the labored breathing and quivering was bad but no. No, the stillness is worse. For a while Midoriya just does his best to listen to the sound of his breathing, reassuring himself that Bakugou's alive in the only way he's able to. Their phones are busted but he might be able to make something work if he had a free fucking hand but glancing over, he realizes why he hasn't been able to move it. It's buried underneath rubble, and he can't tell if it's just caught, or-
Oh.
Midoriya inhales shakily and then shoves down the sense of panic that comes with the flickering, shadowy sight of that. He's got two working legs and Bakugou's bleeding out. His arm will be something to figure out later. Right now, he's more concerned with stopping the bleeding seeping out around the metal. Think. ]
We're both going to get out, and you're not going to vomit. [ Dust sprinkles down on them and Midoriya winds the cloth around the metal as best as he can and then lifts his good arm, trying to get an idea of where the lines of the concrete are, squinting. The space isn't large, but the biggest piece would crush both of them if it does topple down. They might be able to to hold it up if Midoriya wasn't pinned and Bakugou wasn't this injured. Tilting his head hurts like a motherfucker, he looks back at the concrete behind them and then his arm, feeling out against the concrete. Later, he'll unpack exactly how he feels about Bakugou acting like it's just him that's going to get out of this. Right now, he needs to figure out how to get both of them out. ]
Hey, Kacchan, I'm going to move, but you can't, okay? [ It takes every bit of concentration to keep his voice steady, to keep some semblance of a smile on his face as he slowly lifts a leg and plants a shoe against the concrete wall. ] I can keep this from falling on us. There's a smaller piece behind us, and I think... No, I know. You can blast a hole through it, and I keep this up, we'll at least be able to get oxygen in here and alert everyone else to where we are.
[ Bakugou can do this. Midoriya's certain of it. He's seen him blast through concrete before, he can do it again. If Bakugou can do that, then Midoriya can use his legs to keep this from falling down on them. ]
[As best he can, he's braced his knees and feet, braced his arms, having to forsake the back of Midoriya's head so he can utilize both of them. The movement still transfers to him faintly, and his lips sputter once almost like he's trying to hold back the moan of pain, trying to be better than that.
It's a thin pole. It's nothing. It's nothing.
The focus, at least, keeps him from thinking about the pain, the sick, heavy weight in his stomach, the shake to his limbs. Sweating is no problem. The sweat is there. Trying to get the energy to blast might be a small issue.
The fist of one hand bunches into whatever scraps he can find of Midoriya's chest, careful of the phones. A clutch, anxious, like he's afraid Midoriya is going to be hurt by something, anything.]
Is that... fucking all... nerd? Gonna ask me to fucking... light up the goddamn city...?
[He can do it. He will do it. Reaching forward, he waits until Midoriya is positioned, ready. He waits, like a dog at the doors of a race, for the go ahead. The palm crackles like pop rocks crunched in an aluminum mouth. Syrupy, sugary caramel. He tries to keep his hand as far from Midoriya as he can, flush against the cement.
One hand will be stronger, and he cups his hand at the last second to make the blast more controlled and less spread, and then he lets the nitro go. The blast isn’t bad. It shoots a straight hole through the debris, easy. The rubble quakes, and he has a bit of kickback that causes him to finally, actually moan under his breath before his arm slumps back down—then jumps up above them to try to help Midoriya hold what’s above them.]
[ It's a low, hushed whisper pressed against Bakugou's hair at the noise he makes, hating that what they have to do is just going to hurt him more. There's nothing he can do about that and as soon as they're out of here, someone will find them, they'll get to a hospital or to someone with a healing quirk and Bakugou will be okay. He has to be okay.
He rests his elbow in the dirt and grit and ignores the slight itch of it pressing into his arm, trying to focus as much of the lightning and energy from his quirk into his hand to give Bakugou enough room to see and aim. He wants to touch him, wants to reassure him that they're going to be fine but they won't be if they can't see what the hell they're doing, so this is the only option. Midoriya curls himself into Bakugou as much as he's able to to get out of the way of the blast and whispers You could do it if you had to, I know you could.
Both feet kick up and press hard against the top part of the concrete above Bakugou, and the moment the blast activates he shoves with as much power as he can manage, the whole structure shaking horribly around them. The sound of the explosion is near deafening but he has to focus, he can't let Bakugou get hurt further and with his teeth clenched he shoves back against the slab of rock, holding it. He can't maintain it forever, but there's light starting to creep in from the hole and he's not sure if it's the ringing in his ears but he thinks he hears voices.
His good arm splays over Bakugou's back, a haphazard hug along with putting as much pressure as he can on the wound to keep more blood from escaping. His lips press against Bakugou's temple, voice nearly inaudible. You're amazing you did it we're going to get out of here you're incredible, Kacchan, I--
Those are voices. Abruptly, there's a shout from the hole, then more and he faintly makes out the sounds of Uraraka saying something, the rubble around them shifting. Determinedly, he holds his legs steady, thighs aching, and waits. ]
[The quivering returns, but this time it’s the fall of adrenaline that leaves him weak. He droops only slightly, not able to move much more than that without hissing, without a sharp and agonizing sting and the resounding throb following.
Air rushes full on through the hole, scattering dust, but letting them breathe, letting them cool off, too. He can hear a faint buzzing, and he immediately tenses with his hand yanking unsteadily down to guard the hole—from villains maybe, to protect Midoriya. And only after several moments does he realize that it’s voices. He squints, the shaking in Midoriya’s arms faint. Voices...
Whatever he says it a garbled, inaudiable mess. Something slurred. Maybe something about a rescue.
He doesn’t even moan. His whole body slouches in Midoriya’s arms and the full of his weight unfortunately adds to the top of what all Midoriya is desperately trying to hold up above them. He murmurs something else, the ghost of words airy against Midoriya’s dirty, freckled cheek, and then his head thumps against Midoriya’s shoulder and neck as he passes out quietly, arm still extended out to guard the hole like he thought he’d die tooth and nail fighting for Midoriya and One for All.]
[ The full weight of Bakugou gets a slow exhale but Midoriya refuses to make any more noise than he has already, too focused on making certain what's rumbling around them doesn't fall. They're going to be okay, the others will get them out.
There are no words for the way he feels when Bakugou goes limp. He's been afraid countless times before, he's lost people in missions, he's failed in some situations but never like this. Never with someone this close, never with someone he's cared about this much. No, no, please wake up. Midoriya presses a frantic, blood-damp hand to the injury but Bakugou doesn't make any noise of pain, doesn't do anything. The first attempt at feeling for a pulse is too shaky, his fingers trembling too much to get a read, sliding slick over the column of his throat. When he finally does manage it, it's there even if it's fainter than he'd like. They're not going to die here. Bakugou's not going to die here.
What's important is saving the people you care about, protecting them. If he can't protect the people he cares about, what good is any of this, what good is this power All Might gave him? What good is making it this far if Bakugou isn't here with him?
Deku, you can stop holding it up, we've got it, Uraraka calls, the walls around them shuddering.
The decision's made before he even realizes it; he tips Bakugou's limp head up and presses their mouths together. Blood or spit, either's technically going to work and while he doesn't know exactly how it's transferred it has to be intentional and if it means saving Bakugou's life, buying him time, then every single molecule of him wants to do it. Uraraka's power holds the cement up, and when the part pinning his arm comes loose the pain is so raw and sharp that he has a brief moment of surprise before he blacks out.
When he wakes, Uraraka is floating him and Bakugou is loaded up to go to the hospital. He has a moment of clarity, slurring to her that he has to go with him, there's no other option and blessedly all those years of friendship means she doesn't question the panicked tone. They're separated at the hospital which he expects; Bakugou's worse off than he is but he manages to sweet talk them into putting them into the same room to save on space once they're out. Putting two pro heroes in the same room for recovery isn't uncommon when there's a massive event like this but he's put into the room sooner than Bakugou is and then he's stuck waiting. They stabilize him, and his arm is wrapped thickly with the doctors giving him lingering, concerned looks. He knows his arms are a mess. He knows. They won't know more until later and for the time being, Midoriya is left alone in the hospital bed while the heroes do cleanup and he gets to watch from the TV, hoping against hope that Bakugou's going to be okay. ]
[The air smells like the strangest scent when he opens his eyes, slow and languid. Like he had been napping at an uncharacteristic time of the day, like he’s groggy still, warm and comfortable. The smell is feminine... Floral with a small head of spice.
It takes a minute or two for him to realize he’s staring up at the sky, blue as sapphire and bright, almost clear except for a couple of lazy clouds. A very beginning of summer sky, but he can’t tell if the air is warm or cold. It’s simply calming, and there’s grass tickling his ears and neck beneath him.
A woman’s strong voice says, “Finally up? You’re a surprise.”
Above him, a silhouette comes into view: a woman with dark hair, pulled half up and smile on her face, amused and reassuring.] Who... the hell...? [This gets her to laugh. “You two are a lot different,” she admits. “But that’s fine. The most important thing about being a hero is a smile, and I guess you got me to smile.
“You must mean a lot to him. That’s important, too. Your friends.”
Friends. His brows draw together. Stubbornly, he tries to sit up, but finds he can’t. He’s held down, and a second of panic jolts through him until he realizes he isn’t being held down by anything in particular. “Don’t worry,” the woman says. “You have to give it back to him. I know you will. You feel it, don’t you? The power of all the people who have done their best at being a hero.” And she’s right; in the pit of him, it’s there. A crackling, swelling, burning energy. Powerful. So blinding and strong, endless. And so... very... Deku.
Is this, he wonders, what Deku truly has inside? This strength...?
His lips part and nothing emerges. The woman smiles knowingly at him and reaches up to push her mouth up at the corners. Smile. His eyes get heavy, and he can’t keep them open. There’s so many questions. He isn’t able to ask any of them. A void of darkness swallows him.
The next time he opens his eyes, he’s accosted by the steady beep of a heartrate monitor and the faint drip of an IV by his head. He stares at the ceiling, feeling sore, bruised, scraped. When he looks, not much is there on him. The rash he’d assume from cement is barely red skin, even if the feeling lingers, raw. Slowly, he turns his head to finally glance over toward the door, catches sight of the bed, the body in it. Without thinking, worried, he quickly tries to sit up to see Midoriya’s face only to freeze, hiss, and grimace.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 03:13 am (UTC)The soup is half finished when his hand finally goes back beneath the tablecloth. He gropes a moment—still won’t look at Midoriya—until he can find the other’s hand. He returns the earlier sentiment; threads their fingers together and keeps the hand hostage against his poor, damp palm.
For a bit, he bides his time. Let’s Midoriya carry on, thinking maybe he won’t ever talk back. He even talks just briefly with Todoroki. And then he turns his head to peer fully at Midoriya, to catch the other’s eyes and give a kind of beckoning glance. He squeezes the hand below the table once. Thankfully, he’s mostly settled again now that he can control what Midoriya’s hand is doing.
When Midoriya leans in, he tips his chin and puts his lips over the shell of the other’s ear.] Who do you think sitting at this fucking table wonders what your mouth feels like swallowing them up—besides me?
Is there a hero statistic for the look on your face when you’ve got your mouth open waiting for what I’m gonna put in it?
midoriya deadass 2 sec later: i'm going to suck your brains out of your dick if you don't stop
Date: 2018-11-20 03:30 am (UTC)Things go normally for a while; he only needs one hand to eat and it's nice to catch up with everyone. More than that, there's a ridiculous thrill that goes through him, holding Bakugou's hand in secret. While he realizes a good part of it is probably to keep them behaving, the rest of him feels like a dumb high schooler again, with his crush actually holding his hand. When he's beckoned over, he leans in, and oh, yeah, okay, maybe whispering in Bakugou's ear earlier was a little cruel because his stomach flipflops abruptly and then what he says registers and Midoriya drops his fork straight onto the plate.
Thankfully, it's loud enough around them it's not too bad but everyone stops and looks at him and he flusters further, waving it away. You know him, clumsy, it's fine, everything's fine, don't worry, so sorry. His face is bright red and Uraraka is watching him, her gaze shifting to Bakugou's, eyes narrow and considering but not saying anything. He's fine. It's fine. He's totally cool. Midoriya inhales through his nose and squeezes Bakugou's hand fiercely until he trusts he can keep his shit together. Then, he leans over again because they're both terrible and no one is sitting between them to stop them.
He's not...great at dirty talk, in his mind. He's good at observational talk during sex, because that comes easily to him but actual, intentional dirty talk is... well. He's working on it. It takes a solid few seconds for him to steady himself and figure out how to word this so he doesn't die of embarrassment, but: ] Does it matter what anyone else thinks when the only one I think about going down on is you?
i’m hollering THEY ARE AT A GALA WTF [iida hand noises]
Date: 2018-11-20 03:48 am (UTC)Whatever. He doesn’t flinch under Uraraka’s scrutinizing gaze. In fact, he keeps staring in her direction when Midoriya whispers to him again. Geez. He’s going to have to work more magic, not that he thinks he can save this nerd. It’s... a little endearing. That Midoriya struggles with something he can excel at. Great.
Best At Dirty Talk.] Pathetic. [Finally, his eyes drop to Midoriya. About time he has the upper hand. His lips tip toward Midoriya’s cheek and ear.] You could’a at least fucking said the only cock you love squeezing your lips around is mine. [They are pushing their luck so much. Iida is telling then to stop whispering impolitely during speeches. He wants to give the middle finger; instead he gives Midoriya something else:] You’re going outside with me after during the fucking break.
You’re gonna regret making my dick hard under this table.
LMFAOOOO "i cannot take any of you ANYWHERE"
Date: 2018-11-20 04:08 am (UTC)Maybe his commentary was a little too...honest, though. He'd meant it as a compliment, but now he's over-thinking it. It's not a declaration of love or anything ridiculous, but that's probably not the thing you say to your friend-rival-thing with benefits, right? Is that weird? He feels like it's weird. Maybe it's not. Maybe maybe maybe-
Midoriya sits straight up as soon as Bakugou finishes and yeah, there's no way he's hiding his blush, determinedly looking at his plate as he mechanically shovels food into his mouth to keep from saying anything else and to at least play at not being a disaster of a human being. Iida gives him a look for the faux-politeness and he shrugs, like he's not the one who instigated this, sort of. Sorry he mouths and only twenty percent means it. Maybe ten.
Someone else is giving a speech and he tries his best to pay attention but all he can think about is the promise-threat and how he feels like he's burning and he can smell, faintly, Bakugou's cologne. He never should have sat next to him, they knew better. Midoriya cups his water glass and takes a long drink and then dares to lean back in his seat, voice low but not leaning in so Iida crawl across the table and shake them. ]
I don't think I will.
[ Regret it, that is. Besides, he's half-hard in his pants too, though he's doing his level best to stay focused on literally anything else but that. ]
iida is gonna have to seperate them
Date: 2018-11-20 03:58 pm (UTC)It's soul food?
It's a burning, hard pressure in the center of his chest, and he's not half as red as Midoriya, but close enough. The two of them look absolutely ridiculous sitting straight, Midoriya, and slumped away, Bakugou, linked together by two arms weirdly disappearing below the tablecloth by their thighs.
From across the table, Kirishima finally kicks him in the shin to get his attention. The sharp teeth are on full display when Kirishima grins big, and then the guy makes pointed motions at the food on the plate. Not for himself, of course. Bakugou's eyes drop to his own. To everyone else, though not Midoriya probably, not Kirishima, he looks angry and sour. But the exact expression isn't anger. It's worry, uncertainty.
The fingers around Midoriya's hand squeezes faintly before drawing away. They're damp, but warm and red from holding, and he rubs the back of his neck after bringing the arm out of the tablecloth.
No one is talking again yet. The low lull of conversation feels safer. He turns and gets out of his chair, except toward Todoroki so he doesn't have to see Midoriya's large, round eyes peering up at him with concern and confusion. There's no glancing back, not to anyone, even when he can feel some eyes on him, following him down along between the tables and seats--it looks like he's headed for the bathrooms but there's a corner of a hallway and after he's around it, he's out of sight.]
the parent they don't deserve
Date: 2018-11-20 04:57 pm (UTC)No one's paying attention to them in the dim lit room, he's relatively certain but then Kirishima manages to get Bakugou's attention and is smiling not unlike the shark he's compared to often. Midoriya ducks his head and focuses on those shrimp again, letting the hand slip away. Maybe this is the turning point, right? Maybe this is where he'll decide that they're doing this to rile each other up, so why not do it...for real? Bakugou isn't huge on the public displays of affection thing as far as he can tell, but Midoriya likes the idea of thinking boyfriend, or holding his hand at stupid movies.
Bakugou shoves up from the table and leaves, which normally would be explained by a bathroom break if it weren't for everything else. Midoriya sits straight in his chair a few moments longer, glancing over to watch him go, torn between following and letting him do whatever he needs. In the instant Bakugou's gone, though, Uraraka kicks him, seated next to Kirishima and mouths WHAT WAS THAT. A glance at Kirishima reveals raised eyebrows.
Okay.
Maybe not as subtle as he thought. He shrugs and times it, but if Bakugou's not back in a reasonable amount of time to pee he's excusing himself and going after him. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 05:53 pm (UTC)Bakugou doesn't come back out from the hallway because he's already removed the suit jacket and dropped it on the sill of the tall reception window, uncuffed and rolled up both sleeves to his elbows, shoved his hands into his pockets.
He's got his phone, but it's silent for the event and in his pocket, and he doesn't even think to bring it out to check for the texts he knows he's probably getting, the ones he doesn't want to exactly leave on read. So now he's left with just himself, peering out the window at nothing in particular with the distant thrum of noise from the other room siphoning through the mouth of the hallway.
As surprising at it is, he's patient for the moment. He waits.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:12 pm (UTC)There aren't many people here blessedly, so he can start looking for Bakugou and then- ah. He's standing by the window and Midoriya tries not to worry, but... ]
The others were wondering where you went.
[ Midoriya doesn't touch him, doesn't come too close. He stands by the wall and leans against it, watching his profile for a moment and then looks down at his shoes. ]
Is everything alright?
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:35 pm (UTC)The declaration about the others gets a soft, barely heard grunt.
He waits a moment, but Midoriya doesn't get any closer than the wall, and out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Midoriya watching him with nervous expectancy.] Come here. [He still doesn't move, not until Midoriya finally gets closer to him. One hand comes out of his pockets, and he snakes the arm heavily around Midoriya's shoulders and neck.
The flip is quick and solid; he swings Midoriya around so they almost trade places, but he follows up by bulldozing himself into Midoriya's front and pinning Midoriya's back into the rough, jutting edge of the window sill and wall. The head, at least, doesn't thunk with his arm in the way, but it does when he squeezes them together and goes hungrily to town on Midoriya's mouth like he threatened would happen.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 06:42 pm (UTC)He comes closer as he's told to, moving on instinct rather than anything else and then abruptly, he's flipped and shoved up against the wall in the hallway. There's no stopping the sharp noise of surprise he makes, pressing a hand against Bakugou's chest before he realizes it's fine, there's no one else out here but it's a far cry from a bathroom. At least a bathroom has stalls and some measure of privacy but an abandoned hallway at a huge hero gala is not exactly ideal.
There are fifty ways this could go wrong if they aren't careful, but despite his mind going over each and every one of them Midoriya parts his lips and winds an arm around his waist, kissing him back. Where concern and time had cooled him down a little bit, all of it comes roaring back the moment Bakugou shoves him into the wall. Bad idea, worst idea, the most terrible of ideas he knows, but Bakugou smells delicious and Midoriya wants to eat him alive, wants to take him apart and out of that suit and they're only on the third goddamn course. ]
Kacchan-
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 07:06 pm (UTC)He doesn't seem to give much of a shit.]
Shut up.
[It's not an asking or a beg, it's a command, but it's actually delivered a lot softer than most of his usual commands. A hot, hoarse grumble between them. He doesn't give Midoriya time to refuse, to comment; instead, he keeps Midoriya's mouth busy with his own. The meal is there, but barely. It tastes more like champagne than anything else and, if anything, this seems appropriate to him for someone like Midoriya.
He slaps the edge of Midoriya's jacket out of the way and, gentler, still needy, feels what he can of Midoriya's side and hip through the shirt with his palm. Warm from the two of them fooling around, being confined by suits.
The kissing slows without losing its edge.] Don't [A kiss.] fucking [A kiss, sloppier.] rub [A kiss, on one side of the mouth, missing.] my cock [a kiss] under the [a kiss] goddamn table.
[His fingers get a fistful of shirt beneath the jacket at Midoriya's back. It isn't about getting off here. It's the fight to rile each other up; a chicken fight to see who will say quit first. He yanks a portion of the shirt up, dips his hand below and feels the skin there with his fingers, his hand.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 07:15 pm (UTC)Technically, he supposes no one can see him unless they're approaching from the sides and Bakugou's reflexes are great. They'd totally hear someone if they came out this way but most everyone else is focused on the food. They'll be fine. Besides, he's short enough Bakugou could probably hide him and Midoriya could duck his head, and that'd...well, it's not a great plan but it would buy time. ]
I was just trying to rub your thigh, you were the one who decided to try and shove it into my hand, Kacchan.
[ Pinned against the wall gives him something to brace against; he presses his foot back against it, angling his knee up and fits his thigh neatly between the muscled lines of Bakugou's giving him something to grind down on. He's careful not to push his hands anywhere that'd upset Bakugou's outfit too much but he does shamelessly stroke his hand over his jaw, tracing up over the curve of his ear, stroking through his hair gently so he doesn't muss it beyond fixing with no mirrors. His thigh pushes up, deliberate, and Midoriya fits his hand to the nape of Bakugou's neck, fists a hand in the short hair there and pulls in conjunction with a low, filthy grind, watching him intently. ]
did you wanna be cockblocked at peak drama bc it happened
Date: 2018-11-20 07:49 pm (UTC)The whole of his face bunches, like he wants to be angry, like he's about to be angry, but the held breath ruggedly shakes out of him when he releases it, and the expression fades quickly into something resigned, flushed, pleased. When he bites his bottom lip, it nearly bleeds.
Once he returns the grind, he freezes, leaning heavily into Midoriya's body. His head ducks down without tossing the hand off, and he presses his forehead into Midoriya's shoulder, frustrated. Then he presses it into Midoriya's neck at the collar of the shirt, breathes a:] Fuck. [like he knows this is a bad idea and wants not to care. He's quiet for so long, heavy on Midoriya's chest, breathless, half hard, smelling sickeningly sweet.]
I want to wreck you. I want to destroy you. I want you... so fucking badly.
[What he doesn't notice is the smoke. The fog? Iridescent like the soap and oil in bubbles, but thicker. It spills low on the floor, heavy, out from the event room and into the mouth of the hallway. The tendrils of it stretch slowly out, pushed along by the rest that just keeps coming. In the distance edge of the room, along the boundaries of where everyone is gathered: more smoke, the sudden lack of much sound, the scrape of chairs.]
HAHAHA
Date: 2018-11-20 08:05 pm (UTC)I want you to. It was all I could think about when you were dressing up, you look so good and I - I. Uh.
[ He's been sort of keeping an eye on the door just in case they have to act like this is just a really enthusiastic hug, but there's smoke starting to lick out from underneath the door, almost iridescent when the lighting hits it. He's entirely distracted from Bakugou in a heartbeat, staring at it and then he pushes at him. ]
There's smoke. Kacchan.
[ They're both flushed and a little messy but Midoriya doesn't care because he doesn't know what that is but it can't be good. ]
...I'm gonna lose the bet, aren't I.
[ They're absolutely about to get messy and his nice suit is going to be ruined. One more kiss, and then Midoriya slides off his jacket, giving Bakugou a lopsided smile. ]
C'mon.
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 09:05 pm (UTC)What the fuck? Don't breathe it. [He's stunned by the kiss not because he gets it but because of the smoke, the fear. He shields Midoriya when he turns around. Fuck.] Out the damn window, we'll go around.
[On the way, Bakugou wants to know why the hell anyone in their right mind would attack a gala housing this many heroes. A bold move, but a stupid one it felt like? This many registered do-gooders who could kick your ass, and some moron... No. The League. It's gotta be the damn League.
Getting back in elsewhere gives them the element of surprise, though also offers them an equal amount. They're not wrong: it's the League, a few of them. The smoke isn't exactly like the smoke from the camp, but similar enough. The floor and tables are littered with unconscious people--their classmates. He's a lawful jock, hot-headed, wants to rush in, and it takes Midoriya's incessant reassurance for him not to do it.
Working together is something Bakugou's grown more use to over the years. Instead of trying to relegate himself to the front, the best, he's willing to focus on the victory of helping others. But he's still powerful, and he knows his quirk isn't made for saving so much as destroying. The building doesn't stand up against his rallying. The building doesn't stand up against villains willing to use friends and allies as leverage.
For once, there's something more important than winning.
Katsuki Bakugou gives up his assault when Midoriya crumples beneath the broken rubble of the building. It's about Izuku, but more than that. It's about Deku. It's about One for All. It's about All Might handing down one of the most prized gift, and Bakugou refuses to just let Midoriya go down, be smeared into a stain like the man isn't going to become Number One.]
DEKU! [The slab of cement rolls away, and he trips when he tries to slide into the opening, curses as the skin is stripped away along his leg, his pants doing with it. There's hardly anything left of his shirt, his tank top. Dust and blood cover his face and his shoulders and arms, but he reaches down to hook his hand carefully below Midoriya's neck, thumb smoothing the cheek in front of the ear.
The touch is too light, like he thinks Midoriya is dead, like the neck will just twist in his hand and show it's snapped.] Deku, you fucking bastard, open your damn eyes! [Please.] Izuku! [Stone shifts.
He barely gets to glance over his shoulder when another cement slab is lobbed down on top of them. It snaps against the hole, but covers it, hit him solid in the back and knocks the wind out of him. He slips further into the alcove and lands on top of Midoriya with a strangled wheeze and then a fit of coughing.
Killed him, he thinks. He finished the job, not unlike All Might. The new Symbol of Peace and Hope is destroyed by him again, and he growls hoarsely and airily in the dim confines of the collapse.]
no subject
Date: 2018-11-20 09:21 pm (UTC)For a while there's nothing but chaos. Half of the other heroes are out of commission if not all of them and for a while there's nothing but the pounding of his heart and the crackle of One for All mixed with Bakugou's explosions. Sweat drips into his eyes and he swipes a dirty hand against it, smearing dust and grit across his skin but keeping the sweat out of the way as much as possible.
Bakugou takes a hit Midoriya should have seen coming and he chokes out a mangled version of Kacchan! and then the building is collapsing. There's nothing he can do besides try and punch the debris out of the way and save as many people as he can with what he's got but even that isn't working. Bakugou's nice suit is going to be ruined he thinks fuzzily, one minute fighting and the next an impact hits him hard enough it takes him a few moments to pull himself back together. He comes to with Bakugou over him, coughing viciously and when he tries to lift his arm to reach out to him it doesn't feel like it's working. He raises his left instead and fits a hand around the muscle of Bakugou's forearm. His mouth is dry, dust in his eyes and sprinkled in Bakugou's hair along with smears of what he's pretty sure are blood on the other man. ]
Kacchan, are you okay?
[ He's clearly not. Neither of them are, but they're heroes and they have to do something. Slowly, he creeps his hand up through the mangled material of his jacket and Bakugou's arm, gripping it. His smile is trembling but he puts as much certainty into it as he can, adrenaline thrumming through him. They can't see covered like this, so he tries to focus as much of his quirk into him as he can, flickering lightning lighting Bakugou up in shades of soft, sickly green. Please be okay, Midoriya thinks toward anyone listening, and feels the building rumble around them. Some of the villains are down and other heroes are up, they have to be, which means they just need to get out of here. ]
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Date: 2018-11-20 09:49 pm (UTC)He sags on Midoriya, one hand clutching at the edges of cement and the other still looped around Midoriya's neck. His forehead rests on the other's shoulder, and he tries to steady his breathing with the slowly limiting oxygen.
One for All--the strangest sensation still when it ghosts over him, something he remembers from how it reached out to tickle him when Midoriya fought him in the street and came so close to hammering him with a leg. He groans softly from it; the sound is exhausted, pained.
Something warm is pooling at his hip, something that makes the scraps of shirt and tank top stick to him. Reaching carefully back, his fingers slip around a thin, wiry beam, and he hisses when his hand bumps the exit in the meaty section of his back at the hip.] Don't... move... [It's going in through the front and out the other side, but feeling down... it missed Midoriya's waist by millimeters.
He can't believe he's thankful.] Son of a bitch... [He lets his head rest against Midoriya for a little while longer, then lifts it to peer up into Midoriya's face.
The free hand he braces on the stone above--his palms crackle, and sweetness engulfs them. Then his hand slumps back down.] Too close... It'll fucking kill us... [And he can't turn around to blast backward, to get the slab off them.]
I'm bleeding out.
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Date: 2018-11-20 10:03 pm (UTC)In the flickering light he can see Bakugou's messy hair and the shadows of the building around them. He lifts the arm that's cooperating a little bit more and...ah. Not great, then. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he shifts his arm around and tries to see if there are any bits of light creeping through where they're trapped but there's nothing. Limited oxygen, then, in addition to the two of them being here and sharing space. There's debris to contend with, too. Gingerly, he pulls the handkerchief out of the ruins of his suit and rips a strip of material off of his outfit. They're makeshift bandanas to cover their mouths and keep from inhaling too much dust, but at this point he's not even sure it's going to help.
Don't move, Bakugou says and Midoriya rasps out a laugh in response, his chest aching. ] I don't think I can, really.
[ Bakugou's a heavy weight over him, but there's warmth sliding down his side. He doesn't...think he's injured on his side, but everything feels fuzzy and distant and hard to concentrate on. Swallowing, he watches Bakugou's hand lift and then there's a faint crackle, but the cement is too far down on them, the space too small to do anything without risking blowing them up too. Shit. They'll be fine. They have to be fine. They've escaped worse than this before, haven't they? The wetness he feels makes sense at Bakugou's next words and the chill that sweeps through him makes his stomach turn in a way that has nothing to do with being hurt. ]
Alright. We... we're gonna stop that first. Don't move. [ His good hand starts feeling around, starting at his shoulder and working down until he feels cold metal and fear grips him. They can't remove it without making it worse, but there's no way to bandage this either. Think. ] Kacchan, can you reach your phone? We might be able to use the light, or text someone.
[ He tries groping for his in his back pocket but it's a pain in the ass to try and do with weight on top of him and minimal room to move. When he pulls it out, it's shattered, but it turns on and his head thunks back against the wall in relief. ]
I'm gonna try and put pressure on your - on the - [ His voice cracks, because there's no good way to say the metal gaping out of Bakugou's torso. Fabric rips wetly after he's settled his phone on his chest and then he starts winding it around the top half of where the metal juts out, holding off on pressing down too hard until he gets the okay from Bakugou. ] Okay?
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Date: 2018-11-20 10:35 pm (UTC)When he does move, it's careful and only as much as he needs to without shifting his body. His face grimaces, though, pauses. The pain that's starting to filter in breaks him out in a cold sweat, and he quivers gently on top of Midoriya despite how much he hardens his muscles to control it.
Getting his phone out has it in the same condition as Midoriya's. The screen is smashed. He drops it on Midoriya's chest by the other phone; his fingers keep slipping off the button, but no matter how many times he presses it, the screen won't light up.] God fucking dammit!
Shut the fuck up. Whatever.
[He's scared, in a way. About dying, but not even necessarily that. About being so useless. Again. About being shoved to the sidelines when he can be trying to do honest hero work.] Just fucking do it. [The fingers fiddling behind him cause him to draw a sharp, ragged hiss.]
Do it.
[The moment Midoriya does, white explodes behind his eyes, and he growls sickly in the back of his throat.] ...Stop... I'll... vomit... [The quivering is worse. He's still again for some time before trying to move his numb, tingling arm.] We've... gotta get... you out... [It's a useless effort to shove against the cement above them, only sprinkles down dust.]
One... for All... You can... fucking do it.
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Date: 2018-11-20 10:44 pm (UTC)Oh.
Midoriya inhales shakily and then shoves down the sense of panic that comes with the flickering, shadowy sight of that. He's got two working legs and Bakugou's bleeding out. His arm will be something to figure out later. Right now, he's more concerned with stopping the bleeding seeping out around the metal. Think. ]
We're both going to get out, and you're not going to vomit. [ Dust sprinkles down on them and Midoriya winds the cloth around the metal as best as he can and then lifts his good arm, trying to get an idea of where the lines of the concrete are, squinting. The space isn't large, but the biggest piece would crush both of them if it does topple down. They might be able to to hold it up if Midoriya wasn't pinned and Bakugou wasn't this injured. Tilting his head hurts like a motherfucker, he looks back at the concrete behind them and then his arm, feeling out against the concrete. Later, he'll unpack exactly how he feels about Bakugou acting like it's just him that's going to get out of this. Right now, he needs to figure out how to get both of them out. ]
Hey, Kacchan, I'm going to move, but you can't, okay? [ It takes every bit of concentration to keep his voice steady, to keep some semblance of a smile on his face as he slowly lifts a leg and plants a shoe against the concrete wall. ] I can keep this from falling on us. There's a smaller piece behind us, and I think... No, I know. You can blast a hole through it, and I keep this up, we'll at least be able to get oxygen in here and alert everyone else to where we are.
[ Bakugou can do this. Midoriya's certain of it. He's seen him blast through concrete before, he can do it again. If Bakugou can do that, then Midoriya can use his legs to keep this from falling down on them. ]
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Date: 2018-11-21 12:04 am (UTC)[As best he can, he's braced his knees and feet, braced his arms, having to forsake the back of Midoriya's head so he can utilize both of them. The movement still transfers to him faintly, and his lips sputter once almost like he's trying to hold back the moan of pain, trying to be better than that.
It's a thin pole. It's nothing. It's nothing.
The focus, at least, keeps him from thinking about the pain, the sick, heavy weight in his stomach, the shake to his limbs. Sweating is no problem. The sweat is there. Trying to get the energy to blast might be a small issue.
The fist of one hand bunches into whatever scraps he can find of Midoriya's chest, careful of the phones. A clutch, anxious, like he's afraid Midoriya is going to be hurt by something, anything.]
Is that... fucking all... nerd? Gonna ask me to fucking... light up the goddamn city...?
[He can do it. He will do it. Reaching forward, he waits until Midoriya is positioned, ready. He waits, like a dog at the doors of a race, for the go ahead. The palm crackles like pop rocks crunched in an aluminum mouth. Syrupy, sugary caramel. He tries to keep his hand as far from Midoriya as he can, flush against the cement.
One hand will be stronger, and he cups his hand at the last second to make the blast more controlled and less spread, and then he lets the nitro go. The blast isn’t bad. It shoots a straight hole through the debris, easy. The rubble quakes, and he has a bit of kickback that causes him to finally, actually moan under his breath before his arm slumps back down—then jumps up above them to try to help Midoriya hold what’s above them.]
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Date: 2018-11-21 12:25 am (UTC)[ It's a low, hushed whisper pressed against Bakugou's hair at the noise he makes, hating that what they have to do is just going to hurt him more. There's nothing he can do about that and as soon as they're out of here, someone will find them, they'll get to a hospital or to someone with a healing quirk and Bakugou will be okay. He has to be okay.
He rests his elbow in the dirt and grit and ignores the slight itch of it pressing into his arm, trying to focus as much of the lightning and energy from his quirk into his hand to give Bakugou enough room to see and aim. He wants to touch him, wants to reassure him that they're going to be fine but they won't be if they can't see what the hell they're doing, so this is the only option. Midoriya curls himself into Bakugou as much as he's able to to get out of the way of the blast and whispers You could do it if you had to, I know you could.
Both feet kick up and press hard against the top part of the concrete above Bakugou, and the moment the blast activates he shoves with as much power as he can manage, the whole structure shaking horribly around them. The sound of the explosion is near deafening but he has to focus, he can't let Bakugou get hurt further and with his teeth clenched he shoves back against the slab of rock, holding it. He can't maintain it forever, but there's light starting to creep in from the hole and he's not sure if it's the ringing in his ears but he thinks he hears voices.
His good arm splays over Bakugou's back, a haphazard hug along with putting as much pressure as he can on the wound to keep more blood from escaping. His lips press against Bakugou's temple, voice nearly inaudible. You're amazing you did it we're going to get out of here you're incredible, Kacchan, I--
Those are voices. Abruptly, there's a shout from the hole, then more and he faintly makes out the sounds of Uraraka saying something, the rubble around them shifting. Determinedly, he holds his legs steady, thighs aching, and waits. ]
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Date: 2018-11-21 01:19 am (UTC)Air rushes full on through the hole, scattering dust, but letting them breathe, letting them cool off, too. He can hear a faint buzzing, and he immediately tenses with his hand yanking unsteadily down to guard the hole—from villains maybe, to protect Midoriya. And only after several moments does he realize that it’s voices. He squints, the shaking in Midoriya’s arms faint. Voices...
Whatever he says it a garbled, inaudiable mess. Something slurred. Maybe something about a rescue.
He doesn’t even moan. His whole body slouches in Midoriya’s arms and the full of his weight unfortunately adds to the top of what all Midoriya is desperately trying to hold up above them. He murmurs something else, the ghost of words airy against Midoriya’s dirty, freckled cheek, and then his head thumps against Midoriya’s shoulder and neck as he passes out quietly, arm still extended out to guard the hole like he thought he’d die tooth and nail fighting for Midoriya and One for All.]
This is...re...the discord messages but i can edit if it ain't kosher
Date: 2018-11-21 01:57 am (UTC)There are no words for the way he feels when Bakugou goes limp. He's been afraid countless times before, he's lost people in missions, he's failed in some situations but never like this. Never with someone this close, never with someone he's cared about this much. No, no, please wake up. Midoriya presses a frantic, blood-damp hand to the injury but Bakugou doesn't make any noise of pain, doesn't do anything. The first attempt at feeling for a pulse is too shaky, his fingers trembling too much to get a read, sliding slick over the column of his throat. When he finally does manage it, it's there even if it's fainter than he'd like. They're not going to die here. Bakugou's not going to die here.
What's important is saving the people you care about, protecting them. If he can't protect the people he cares about, what good is any of this, what good is this power All Might gave him? What good is making it this far if Bakugou isn't here with him?
Deku, you can stop holding it up, we've got it, Uraraka calls, the walls around them shuddering.
The decision's made before he even realizes it; he tips Bakugou's limp head up and presses their mouths together. Blood or spit, either's technically going to work and while he doesn't know exactly how it's transferred it has to be intentional and if it means saving Bakugou's life, buying him time, then every single molecule of him wants to do it. Uraraka's power holds the cement up, and when the part pinning his arm comes loose the pain is so raw and sharp that he has a brief moment of surprise before he blacks out.
When he wakes, Uraraka is floating him and Bakugou is loaded up to go to the hospital. He has a moment of clarity, slurring to her that he has to go with him, there's no other option and blessedly all those years of friendship means she doesn't question the panicked tone. They're separated at the hospital which he expects; Bakugou's worse off than he is but he manages to sweet talk them into putting them into the same room to save on space once they're out. Putting two pro heroes in the same room for recovery isn't uncommon when there's a massive event like this but he's put into the room sooner than Bakugou is and then he's stuck waiting. They stabilize him, and his arm is wrapped thickly with the doctors giving him lingering, concerned looks. He knows his arms are a mess. He knows. They won't know more until later and for the time being, Midoriya is left alone in the hospital bed while the heroes do cleanup and he gets to watch from the TV, hoping against hope that Bakugou's going to be okay. ]
the adults are gonna murder him
Date: 2018-11-21 03:08 am (UTC)It takes a minute or two for him to realize he’s staring up at the sky, blue as sapphire and bright, almost clear except for a couple of lazy clouds. A very beginning of summer sky, but he can’t tell if the air is warm or cold. It’s simply calming, and there’s grass tickling his ears and neck beneath him.
A woman’s strong voice says, “Finally up? You’re a surprise.”
Above him, a silhouette comes into view: a woman with dark hair, pulled half up and smile on her face, amused and reassuring.] Who... the hell...? [This gets her to laugh. “You two are a lot different,” she admits. “But that’s fine. The most important thing about being a hero is a smile, and I guess you got me to smile.
“You must mean a lot to him. That’s important, too. Your friends.”
Friends. His brows draw together. Stubbornly, he tries to sit up, but finds he can’t. He’s held down, and a second of panic jolts through him until he realizes he isn’t being held down by anything in particular. “Don’t worry,” the woman says. “You have to give it back to him. I know you will. You feel it, don’t you? The power of all the people who have done their best at being a hero.” And she’s right; in the pit of him, it’s there. A crackling, swelling, burning energy. Powerful. So blinding and strong, endless. And so... very... Deku.
Is this, he wonders, what Deku truly has inside? This strength...?
His lips part and nothing emerges. The woman smiles knowingly at him and reaches up to push her mouth up at the corners. Smile. His eyes get heavy, and he can’t keep them open. There’s so many questions. He isn’t able to ask any of them. A void of darkness swallows him.
The next time he opens his eyes, he’s accosted by the steady beep of a heartrate monitor and the faint drip of an IV by his head. He stares at the ceiling, feeling sore, bruised, scraped. When he looks, not much is there on him. The rash he’d assume from cement is barely red skin, even if the feeling lingers, raw. Slowly, he turns his head to finally glance over toward the door, catches sight of the bed, the body in it. Without thinking, worried, he quickly tries to sit up to see Midoriya’s face only to freeze, hiss, and grimace.]
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