There was a sudden tug against the lower back of Tsuki's body, her pelvis pressed against something. She stirred in her sleep and slowly blinked her eyes open. She tiredly stared for a moment before her heart dropped. She gasped quietly.
"Oh my—" she whispered, opening her eyes wide, her hand struggling up into the practically non-existent space between them. Her hand landed against his chest.
He grumbled in his sleep, furrowing his brows for a moment and somehow managing to pull her closer. She tilted her head up to peer at his face better. She parted her lips to speak, yet found herself caught in his expression. His face was completely relaxed. He looked so much more innocent when he was sleeping—like there was nothing weighing him down, no pressure from being number one, no anger fuming in his blood as he fought with every fiber of his being. He was simply sleeping.
"He looks so handsome," she thought, carefully taking in his features. "He's so peaceful." Her hand trailed up and slowly, very gently, cupped his cheek. Her thumb caressed his skin. She found herself smiling lovingly at him. "I can't believe he's sleeping like he pays the rent or something." She exhaled through her nose, laughing to herself. She tapped his cheek. "Katsuki," her finger tapped his face for a moment, "wake up."
He made a noise, the crease forming between his eyebrows again. He grumbled something, his hold on her loosening for a moment.
She moved her hand to his shoulder and shook him gently. "Wake up." She shook him again.
He groaned louder. "Shut up." He curled himself inward, scooting closer to her.
She smiled, sitting up with her arm behind her to support herself; the blanket had fallen from her upper neck onto her lap. Bakugo groaned at the sudden change in position. He peeped one eye open and inhaled.
"What time is it?" His voice was groggy, a few octaves lower than usual.
Tsuki looked over her shoulder at him before leaning over to her side of the bed, extending her arm toward her nightstand to grab her phone. She tapped the screen.
"11," she answered, then looked over at him. "What time do you think you'll leave to go back to school?"
He hummed something before rubbing his eyes aggressively. "I needa shower." He slowly flipped over.
"Sure," she responded. "I'm gonna brush my teeth, though." She started getting herself out of bed, scooting to the edge. She stood up and walked over to the small door in her room that led to her bathroom. She flicked on the light and grabbed her toothbrush, placing it under hot water. As she began brushing, the scuffing of Bakugo's feet neared. He placed his arm on the top of the doorframe, his shirt lifted up slightly to show his lower stomach.
Tsuki laughed. "He slept in jeans? " She laughed. "Not like he could fit any clothes if I gave him any." He walked over to the sink and grabbed the spare toothbrush from the holder.
"Whose is this?" he asked, looking at her from the mirror in front of the dual sinks.
She shrugged. "I—just have it—" she said, placing her hand under her chin with a mouthful of foaming toothpaste.
He turned on the other sink. "Spare toothbrush but not spare clothes? " he thought. "How annoying."
He began brushing his teeth while looking at the older wallpaper that filled the cracks between the shower and the sinks. He walked over and ran his finger along the design. He stepped back, spat into the sink, and continued brushing. Tsuki huffed, turning on the water to wash away his spit. He leaned his back against the wall and stared at her in the mirror. Tsuki stared at herself before rinsing out her mouth and gurgling some water. She wiped her jaw with a small hand towel.
"Did you want me to get you some clothes from the shop?" she offered.
Bakugo shrugged. "I dun't—are—" He spat in the sink and mimicked her previous movements.
"So that's a yes." She decided. "You're a large?"
He wiped his jaw with the other side of the towel. "My shirts are XL," he said to her. "My arms don't fit in L."
"That's wow ..." her thoughts trailed off to things more provocative. She inhaled. "That's fine."
He began buttoning down his shirt over a tightly fitted black tank top. He shrugged off his shirt, and it flopped to the floor. Tsuki's eyes were glued to the muscles in his arms—the veins starting from the back of his hand and bulging up his forearm. His bicep was so large it pressed against the sides of his body.
"I didn't realize," she thought, lifting her hand and placing her fingertips on her tricep, "how strong he looked." Her touch was cold; it sent goosebumps from the nape of Bakugo's neck to the heels of his foot. He watched her stare at him, and he fought an urge so strong that his head began to hurt from clenching his jaw. She traced a small scar on his tricep that circled to his elbow.
"What's this from?"
"Huh?" he mouthed, trying to act as if he hadn't noticed. "Oh. My classmates and I went to an island for hero training; apparently when I fought the boss villain, Deku and I got pretty banged up." He placed his finger over the scar. "Recovery Girl said she couldn't heal it all the way."
"What do you mean?"
He looked down at his arm. "I think it might be some permanent damage to my arm, or something." He paused. "Or maybe she said that to that stupid nerd—I can't remember."
"Ohh, okay," she said softly. She looked at him in the face and pulled her hand away. "I'll, um... let you shower and stuff."
He nodded, fiddling with the button on his jeans. "Can you bring some actual damn food this time?" he asked, looking at her as she turned away.
Tsuki laughed. "A thank-you would be nice." She shut the door behind her and walked over to her bedroom door.
...
