TodoBaku Stuff

You Make My Temperature Rise

Summary:
"You know I ain't one to spout bullshit, so I'll just be blunt - you wanna fuck around, I'm down for it."

Shoto stared at him in shock. Bakugo? Interested in - that? With him? Was he joking? Was this some bizarre prank or a way to make fun of him, or -

Katsuki flicked Shoto's forehead. "I can see the equations floating above your head, dumbass. It ain't that complicated. I'm hot, you're hot, we're both pro heroes with zero time for romance shit, so if you're into it, we should fuck. Simple as that."

-

Or where an old friend and current rival awakens a side of Todoroki he never knew existed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late at night and Shoto was tired as hell. It had been a long week at work but he had the next two days off, and now that he was freshly showered and settled in at home, he was ready to hit the sheets and not move for a good 12 hours (at least).

Unfortunately, a sudden angry and violent knocking at his door threw a wrench into his plans. Sighing and quickly slipping on a pair of gray sweats, Shoto left the bathroom and made his way to the door and hoped he was wrong about his immediate assumption as to who was on the other side.

He opened the door and barely stifled a sigh. His instincts were, regrettably, as sharp as ever.

"Bakugo, it's 11:30 at night. What do you want?"

"Shut up, half and half bastard," Katsuki snarled back, though not before giving the half naked Shoto a once-over. He didn't think much of it - Katsuki was probably just not expecting him to answer like that. "I'm here to fuckin' talk."

"Can it wait until tomorrow? Or better yet, two days from now when I'm back at work?"

"Fuck no, and fuck you," Katsuki spat, and Shoto groaned and shoved the door open all the way.

"Whatever. Just make it fast. I've had a long week and I need to rest."

After Katsuki breezed past him, smelling like sugar and smoke as always, Shoto closed the door and then grunted in surprise when Katsuki immediately grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around, and slammed him against the door.

"Don't worry, this won't take long," Katsuki grinned, and Shoto froze at the unexpected close contact. They were roughly the same height, so Shoto didn't have to look up as Katsuki leaned a forearm against the door and went on, "I'm just here to make sure that you haven't been fucking up on purpose lately."

Shoto squinted. "What?"

"You were on track to hit number one by the start of the year," Katsuki explained, leaning even closer and making Shoto's discomfort levels skyrocket. "But here we are in November, and I'm still number one and you're about to drop down to third or fourth."

Shoto swallowed, wondering why his heart was racing. He wasn't afraid of Katsuki, and he couldn't think of any other reason for such a physical reaction. "And that's a problem for you how?"

"Because," Katsuki hissed, "number one doesn't mean shit to me if it's only mine by default. If you're just letting your stats drop so you don't have to deal with the pressure and all that shit, I'll kill you."

"Oh. No, that's not what's happening," Shoto replied, head feeling a little clearer now that he fully understood. "To be honest, I'm having a harder time adjusting to running my own agency than I expected. I'm still figuring out how to balance it all, so that's why my numbers are suffering."

Katsuki studied him for a moment, clearly searching for any hint of dishonesty, before seemingly accepting that explanation. "Yeah, shit's hard. Your old man should have prepared you for that."