Crush Culture [Tododeku] [DISCONTINUED}

Part 8: Basking in Your Warmth

What's up s q u a d ? Also please enjoy that wholesome meme because I love you guys so much 

-----

Third Person POV

Todoroki groggily woke up, rubbing sleep out of his tired eyes. His hair was sticking up at every possible angle and his white t-shirt hung loosely off of his shoulders. His insomnia had become increasingly worse ever since his thoughts about a particular green-haired boy spiked to an unusual high. Sleep taunted him especially so since anytime he blushed his left side would light up in flames and catch one of his unfortunate pillows on fire. Let's just say that there was a pile of charred fabric in the corner. 

He ran a hand through his loose strands of hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Wait, he thought, my alarm never went off. His eyes took a tentative peak over at the screen and was horrified to see that it was already 9:30, meaning he was late for class. 

"Fuck!" he yelped. It was a tornado personified- the boy dashed across his room, leaving pajamas and loose papers falling in his wake. He held his arms out to prevent himself from crashing into the walls while trying to pull a sock on and brush his teeth. Oh, if only class 1A could see him now: their most composed and respected student reduced to a whirlwind of swearing and flailing like an angry goose. Hey, kinda like Bakugo! 

The boy barely made it out the door when he realized that he only had one shoe on. He banged his head on the doorway in pure exhaustion. This was going to be an interesting day.

---

"Icy-hot you look like shit," Bakugo snickered as Todoroki trudged into the room. His jacket wasn't buttoned, his shirt was only buttoned halfway up his torso, and his tie hung limply over his shoulder. His hair had been swept up in the scurry, undoing the feeble effort that had been put into brushing it. To Bakugo he looked like shit, but to everyone else he looked like a hot, sweaty, model- but also maybe a tad like shit. His eyes were ablaze and the top portion of his chest was peaking through the undone shirt. The ruffled hair only added to the effect.

"Todoroki," Aizawa sighed, "Next time you come to class, please be fully dressed and on time."

The class laughed and Todorki nodded, making his way to his seat. Unbeknownst to him, Deku had his eyes glued to him the whole time. Glued. He didn't even mean to stare. It was like second nature; an instinct. Some subconscious part of his brain had been nagging at him to look away, but those thoughts were beaten to a pulp and discarded in seconds. Once he caught wind of what he was doing, he scolded himself and went red in the face. Teenagers, am I right?

"Now," Aizawa said, "I'll continue what I was saying: it's Thursday. Projects are due tomorrow. Don't turn them in late. I don't care enough to accept late work. Now do science or something. Write a paper, direct a play, I don't care. Just remember: I won't grade it," he ended with a yawn. The teacher zipped into his yellow sleeping bag and checked out for the day. 

Poor Deku was covering his face, still mortified at his unintentional staring. Imagine if Todoroki saw me. He'd think I'm a creep! He let out a barely audible groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

This was getting out of hand. 

---

Deku spun around as he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Seconds earlier the bell had rung, telling them that the school day was over. Now students had flooded into the hallway and began to leisurely make their way back to the dorms. As Deku turned behind him, he was met with a pair of heterochromatic eyes. 

"S-Shoto! What's up?" he smiled while awkwardly resting his hand on the back of his neck. 

"The project," he stated simply with a cocked eyebrow. Understanding flashed across the smaller boy's face. He nodded.