Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bakugou gripped the bathroom sink like it was personally responsible for his current emotional state. Fucking half-and-half bastard half-assing their fucking fight, he growled to himself through a mouthful of toothpaste. If he couldn't defeat completely defeat Shouto he could at least obliterate the bacteria infesting his mouth. No mercy.

"Die you bacteria fucks, dieeee!"

"Don't wake up at noon and start yelling!" His mum reprimanded him, she appreciated his enthusiasm for dental hygiene but sometimes her son needed to adjust his ‘all or nothing’ approach to anything.

Bakugou rinsed and spat, baring his teeth at the mirror and feeling his gums sting. He ran a tongue over them and tasted blood. His mouth had felt like shit after being transported home and chained to his bed until he calmed down. He never calmed down. So he'd been stuck, raging at his stupid medal that he didn't deserve. Fucking Deku making everything so confusing, tainting everything with his sincerity and concern for others and God he was so hungry.

Stomping into the kitchen, his eyes were suddenly accosted by bright cellophane and ribbons. Gift baskets of food crowded the dining table and kitchen counters. Gritting his aching teeth even harder, he burnt the card congratulating him on his victory and stuffed a muffin into his face. Grabbing the basket and a carton of milk from the fridge, he returned to his room.

Munching on another muffin, he sat on his bed and brushed the chains onto his floor. His medal glinted at him from his desk, mocking his 'victory,' and he yelled when his teeth sunk into a finger instead of muffin. Shit! He'd finished without noticing. Digging both hands into the basket he grabbed two and forced them into his mouth, chewing wildly. Pausing only wash bits of muffin down between mouthfuls, he ripped through the basket. Ignoring the pain in his stomach and mouth, he forced himself to keep going, pushing past his limits.

His fingers scrabbled at basket weave, and tears threatened to fall. All Might's words bounced around his brain like befuddled bees, and his stomach throbbed with pain. Pushing the basket onto the floor he fell back, groaning and clutching at his distended stomach as it protested the sudden influx of food he'd stuffed inside it. This was nothing, he told himself, he could eat more, he could go further.

As he struggled to sit up, and a particularly loud gurgle was all the warning he got before he belched and flopped back, moaning and rubbing his stomach.

"Fucking bullshit," he groused, and tried again, until the very bane of whole existence meekly peeked around the door frame. "Deku," he murmured in shock.

"Hi Kacchan, I w-wanted to see how you were, uh, doing," he stuttered, stepping into the room. "I brought you a cake," he looked at the floor, and held up a box.

Bakugou took a moment to comprehend that Deku of all people was in his room before thinking 'fuck it' and he lunging off the bed.

Unfortunately, his stomach had other ideas, and chose that moment to cramp. Bakugou fell to his knees, wheezing, and snapped at the shaking, calloused hands that fluttered around him like butterflies.

"U-um, kacchan..."

"Fuck off. Who let you -urp- in!?" He pushed himself to his feet and reached for that skinny bird neck with both hands, staggering forward with murder on his face.

"Your mum-!" Midoriya ducked to the side and Bakugou grunted as he crashed into his open door, slamming it shut. "Kacchan, please calm down!" He pleaded, backing up to the bed until something clinked at his feet and he looked down.

"I WOULD RATHER DIE!!" He roared and rounded on him, palms sparking. He wasn't hydrated enough to produce much sweat yet, but he was getting there.

"Kacchan, stop!" Midoriya shouted, meeting Bakugou’s eyes for the first time. There it was again. That spark of defiance.

He leapt again but something was wrong, that defiant look was back and he wasn't shaking, and then deku dived to the floor. Bakugou blinked in surprise as chains wrapped around his arm, pinning it to his side and he crashed to the ground, thoroughly tangled. His eyes widened in pain as his stomach made contact with the floor and he quickly flipped onto his side, panting heavily.

"Fuck you," he gasped.

Midoriya smiled, scratching a cheek nervously. "I'm glad you're okay. Mostly."

Bakugou’s stomach gurgled through the chains and he grimaced, "I'm fine. Where's that cake?" He waved his arm around and tried to sit up. "Untie me!"

"B-but-!"

"Deku." He growled.

Midoriya sighed and crawled over, loosening his restraints and pulling on an arm until Bakugou sat upright. His hands immediately went to his stomach, all the recent activity had bloated it further and he suppressed a burp.

"Did you eat too much?" Midoriya sat next to him, leaning against the bed frame.

"No," Bakugou growled. "I can eat more. Bring me that cake."

"Kacchan-!" Midoriya was suddenly cut off as Bakugou gripped his shirt collar, pulling him close.

"Caaaake," he grinned, mouth too wide and teeth bared, suddenly relaxing his abdominal muscles to burp right in his face before pushing him away.

Eyes watering and coughing slightly, Midoriya retrieved the box that he'd placed outside the door to protect it from their tussle.

"Should I get you a fork...? Oh."

Bakugou snatched it from his grasp and ripped the lid off then smacked his face right into the icing. Midoriya hesitated before resuming his seat and the two sat next to each other, the sounds of muffled chewing filling the silence.

Eventually he came up for air, having eaten through to the cardboard platter it rested on. He swallowed with difficulty, cake clogging his throat, and blearily peered through icing stuck to his lashes to look for the milk carton. Going by touch more than sight, he brought it to his lips and washed everything down. His relief was palpable as he hunched over the remains of the cake, finally free to breathe.

"K-kacchan?"

"What."

"I really think you should stop now..."

"Ffffuck off, Deku." It took a Herculean effort not to stutter. His stomach was now a constant source of pain, skin stretched taught over a huge lump of food.

Oh, he doubted he could finish? Well. Bakugou would show him. He lifted the platter out of the box, opened his mouth wide and tipped the cake forward. Impatient, he shovelled it into his mouth with one of his hands and barely stopped to chew.

Midorya made noises of protest as Bakugou forced himself to keep going, forced the cake down his throat and forced himself to swallow. When his hand scraped air he dropped the platter, trying to let it sink in that he'd finished. Almost. He chugged the rest of the milk as well and finished with a burp. All the air he'd swallowed roiled in his stomach and he hissed at own touch.

Something touched his face and he jerked back, sputtering vague insults and threats.

"It's only me! I brought you a damp towel."

"I don't. Need you. To help." His words felt clunky but he absolutely refused to stutter.

He scrubbed at his face and neck, revelling in the refreshing coolness that it left behind. The towel started burning as he was reminded of the humiliation he suffered and he threw it on the floor. Memories flooded and he grit his teeth.

"Um... Does it hurt?"

A tentative hand was resting on his stomach, rubbing gentle circles into the tight flesh. He gave a wordless exclamation at Midoriya’s boldness and his first instinct was to amputate the hand touching him but God damn it felt good. He arched forward, giving him more access, and sighed.

"Wait- No!" He jerked away, snarling.

With few options available, he twisted slightly and clawed his way up into his bed. It felt like he was climbing a mountain with his heavy stomach weighing him down, but he persevered and eventually collapsed on top of his bed sheets, breathing heavily. His stomach felt heavy, tight and hot. And so very full. He hated, nay, loathed, to admit it but the one iota of comfort he experienced had come from Deku; who was currently muttering something about leaving.

"-So I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you feel better and I'll just go-"

"No."

Midoriya stopped in the doorway and turned back, "no?"

"Get back. Here. Now." Bakugou hissed through clenched teeth. "Fix. This." He rolled onto his back and exposed his stomach to the air. Ordering Midoriya around felt much better than accepting his help, which was something they both knew he needed.

Midoriya swallowed nervously and crept forward, avoiding Bakugou’s gaze. He reached out a shaking hand and began to rub slow, concentric circles around his belly button. Bakugou relaxed into the bed, blinking slowly as Midoriya grew in confidence and began using his other hand. The sounds of digestion began to normalise and Bakugou’s consciousness flickered, his breathing slowed and he finally let go of his barbed thoughts long enough to fall asleep.

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Bakugou jerked awake, sitting up and wincing. His stomach was a bit smaller and softer now, no longer rock hard and aching. A soft snore sounded from his side and he blinked at the sight of Midoriya with his cheek pillowed on his arm, the other was hanging off the bed. Bakugou gently put a hand on his fluffy head and promptly pushed him off the bed.

Chapter Text

Bakugou watched in satisfaction as Midoriya toppled to the ground with a yelp, mocking laughter bubbling up and out. Still dazed, Midoriya sat up and blinked up at the grinning Bakugou.

"Wha'...?" He mumbled and rubbed at his eyes. Baku felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he was reminded of a bunny-rabbit cleaning itself. Oh wait, that was actual bile, and Bakugou grimaced as he swallowed it back down.

A loud gurgling drew both of their attention and Deku but a hand on his own stomach.

"What the fuck?"

"Ah, um, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten since... Breakfast..." Midoriya trailed off, suddenly awash with guilt that he hadn't been keeping his strength up to accommodate for the exhaustion of Recovery Girl's ability.

"Bet I'm twice as hungry as you, Deku."

"Eh? What?"

"You heard me. I can eat double whatever you can and I’ll prove it, right here right now. Go get me more food," he ordered and jerked his chin sharply in the direction of the stairs.

He smiled to himself as Midoriya scampered up the stairs, so eager to please. His good mood was short lived, however, when he returned, rubbing a bump on his head and babbling about it being dinner time. Bakugou sighed and heaved himself out of bed, trying to bite at Midorya’s hands when they tried to help him.

"W-wait!"

Bakugou froze in place, halfway up the steps, and slowly turned to stare at the quivering mess behind him."What." He barked through clenched teeth.

"Shouldn't you, um, put on a shirt?"

Bakugou looked down at his slight distention, realised he was, indeed, still shirtless, then looked Midoriya straight in the eye and said: "No."

Turning on his heel, he marched up the stairs with Midoriya trailing behind him like lost balloon.

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Bakugou’s mother had taken one look at him and sighed. Whenever he was truly upset, he would eat himself stupid and stew in his lair with the lights off for hours. After the first few times it had happened she'd (mostly) ceased yelling at him to stop and instead started to cook large, healthy dinners in an attempt to at least vaguely steer him in a slightly less self-destructive direction. Well, she mused, it could be worse, as Bakugou wolfed down his third plate of curry and rice in as many minutes. Oddly enough, he seemed particularly inflamed in the presence of the weirdly nervous kid sitting across from him.

Midoriya tried to get his hands to stop shaking long enough to spoon some curry into his mouth, and succeeded, for the most part. The combined presence of Bakugou and his own general awkwardness around other people's parents was making it difficult to concentrate. His mother kept staring at him for some reason and it was like there were two Bakugous… which, in a way, it was. Three, technically, and Midoriya curiously glanced at Bakugou’s father, who smiled warmly back at him, completely at odds with the strained atmosphere.

As if sensing there was something more than just dinner going on, the adults quickly excused themselves. Apparently they had a movie to go to, and 'no way were they going to pay out the ass for popped corn and sugar water,' so dinner beforehand removed the temptation.

Bakugou growled something that could be misconstrued as a ‘goodbye’ and suddenly they were alone. Midoriya relaxed a bit, with only Bakugou’s glare to contend with, he began to relax a little and maneuver more food into his mouth. With three plates worth of curry pushing his stomach out, Bakugou thought it prudent to take a break and simply watch Midoriya eat like a bird.

Ugh. Boring. He was so delicate it frustrated him. More so than usual. He turned his attention to himself and lazily stroked his stomach, feeling it rumble under his hands, while he relaxed and slid down his chair. He was well past 'full' and had been for a while, as well as still trying to digest his earlier muffin indulgence. The reasons for his binge began to resurface and his mouth twisted in distaste, it was so unsatisfying- A clink interrupted his dark thoughts and he sat up straight, blinking at the steaming plate in front of him.

Midoriya had gone for seconds, meaning that Bakugou had to now eat fourths. That was odd, he didn't remember Midoriya even finishing a regular bento, but to be fair, he did get it stolen more often than not. Must be 'cause of Recovery Girl, he mused.

Soon it became clear that Bakugou had bitten off a touch more than he could chew when he vehemently stabbed a carrot on his seventh plate of food. His stomach groaned and he groaned with it, as he vainly trying to soothe it with one hand as he shovelled food into his mouth with the other.

Midoriya had tried to stop after seconds, but when he revealed he was still hungry under interrogation when asked nicely, he'd been yelled at to keep going. Recovery Girl's quirk had taken its toll, and not that Bakugou cared, but the bags under Midoriya’s eyes were particularly prominent this evening.

Finally, Midoriya sat back after finishing his fourth, hands on his stomach, and sighed in contentment. The heavy, nutritious food was making him warm and sleepy and he was shocked to feel a small bump under his clothes. It was nowhere near Bakugou’s though, which curved out from his body and was currently voicing its displeasure at being forced into such a state.

"Oi! Don't fucking -urp- fall asleep!" Bakugou slammed a fist on the table and Midoriya jerked awake, hiccuping in surprise. He wasn’t even aware he’d been nodding off.

"Ex-excuse me."

"Fuck no."

"Oh. Okay," Midoriya slumped back, and Bakugou tched.

"Make yourself useful, Deku, and get over here," he growled.

"M'kay."

Midoriya staggered around the table and dragged a chair closer, while Bakugou leaned back and took the plate with him, allowing more access to his round, aching stomach. With weirdly soothing hands calming the discontented grumbles, Bakugou bravely soldiered on.

Until something thunked onto his shoulder, which he was outraged to find out was Midoriya’s forehead. He was falling asleep again, so Bakugou shrugged him off and almost threw up at the little sleepy noise he made.

"Stop fucking falling asleep!"

"Sorry, Kacchan, jus' tired I guess."

"Yeah thanks for the update," he snorted. "Go get me more."

"Can't."

"Whaddya mean can’t!?"

"You just ate the last bit."

"Well fuckin- get a goddamn basket!"

"Kacchaaan aren't you full yet?" He whined.

"NO! Basket. I said I'd double what you ate and I am going to fucking succeed."

Midoriya slouched off his chair and peered through the cellophane, looking for something vaguely age appropriate. It appears a few were intended for the parents, comprising mostly of wine with unpronounceable names and fancy cheeses that could be smelled through the plastic. Eventually he unearthed a gourmet short bread gift basket, along with a bouquet of fruit cut into the shapes of flowers.

"Okay, which one do you want?" He yawned.

Bakugou grinned wickedly and Midoriya felt a sinking feeling in his gut. "Both," he said, then shifted and grimaced, "better relocate first."

"What! Why?"

"My ass hurts, fuck-face."

"R-right, um, do you need help?"

"No! I can do it myself."

Bakugou dug his nails into the wooden table and pulled himself forward, red-faced and panting. His legs shook with the effort and his heavy stomach weighed him down, but eventually he stood on his own two feet. Unfortunately, he was faced with his next problem: taking a step as though it wasn't an enormous effort to simply lift a foot off the ground. He opted for shuffling, both hands practically carrying himself down the stairs to the basement, which had been converted into an ensuite bedroom.

Toppling into his bed, Bakugou burped and palmed his stomach in an attempt to coax more air out to make room. He grinned as he felt the size and weight of it, he doubted Shouto could ever eat as much as him. Or Deku, for that matter. What the fuck was taking him so long? Baku eyed the prominent curve of his stomach, he'd probably get up to go check if it weren't weighing him down.

"DEKU! WHAT THE FUCK!!" He shouted.

"Coming!" Was the reply, but not before he heard something crash to the kitchen floor. "Everything's fine!"

"Don't burn the fucking house down!!" Mum'll kill me, was the unspoken end of that sentence.

Midoriya finally clattered down the stairs and very narrowly avoided spilling the pile of shortbread he was balancing on top of a large bowl. Bakugou peered at him from over the mound of his stomach, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

"I, um, deconstructed the fruit bouquet into a fruit salad and unwrapped all the shortbread-"

While Midoriya babbled on, Bakugou maneuvered himself against his pillows and pushed the waistband of his pants down a tad.

"-and your mouth will get dry but I think you can wash it down with the fruit-"

"Fuck. Just shut up and. Give. It."

Midoriya stepped forward and held out the bowl for Bakugou to pluck off the plate. He munched away on the crumbly biscuit and then spat crumbs everywhere when he yelled at Midoriya to make him feel better. Shit. He'd have to vacuum. He ran a tongue around his mouth to collect the rest and swallowed with difficulty, his mouth was, indeed, dry.

He looked at Midoriya and snarled at him to 'hurry the fuck up and sit on the bed' so he could rub his stomach and feed him fruit.

It wasn't until Bakugou shuffled over to actually make room that Midoriya tentatively stepped over him and sat with his back against the wall and the fruit bowl in his lap. He leaned over it to rub the taut skin and forked a piece of apple into the waiting mouth, and Bakugou chewed thoroughly, using the juice to wash away the crumbs that had gunked up his teeth. And he’d just cleaned them.

He groaned his way through the rest of the plate, letting his head flop in Midoriya's general direction with his mouth wide open. He belched thickly and arched into the soothing touch on his growing stomach. He groped for more shortbread but only succeeded in covering his fingers in crumbs, which he then licked off. Midoriya took the empty plate from where it rested on Bakugou’s chest and put it under the bowl to get it out of the way.

"D-do want to keep going?" Midoriya ventured.

No. "Yeah," he burped, clutching at his stomach and severely regretting his past decisions. But he couldn't show weakness in front of Midoriya, he'd finish even if it killed him.

His resolve did not, however, prevent him from simply lying there and letting Midoriya gently feed him fruit cut into floral shapes. His stomach felt far too full, packed tight and round with food, and his skin was stretched taught. Instinctively, he rolled onto his side and curled around it, and pushing his stomach against Midoriya's crossed legs. Bakugou groaned as he felt it being patted instead of rubbed, but couldn’t be bothered doing anything to rectify the situation. Something pressed against his lips and he opened his mouth to accept it, barely chewing before swallowing.

"Kacchan, are you alright?"

Bakugou didn't dignify that stupid question with a response, and instead, burped softly then opened his mouth for more. When none was forthcoming he valiantly mustered up the energy to look up at Midoriya and glare through half lidded eyes.

"You ate it all..." he trailed off when Bakugou closed his eyes and sighed, a slow smile spreading across his face and softening his features.

"I...win..." He panted, then closed his eyes and passed out.

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Bakugou sneezed himself awake, having floated into consciousness due to something tickling his nose. He opened his eyes and instantly closed them again as it became clear that not only had Midoriya stayed the night, without his permission, but had also wedged himself between the wall and Bakugou, then snuggled into the chest of the latter.

Resisting the urge to throw up right on top of Midoriya's blissfully unaware self, he repositioned his nose and drew him closer. Fuck it, he thought, Midoriya was warm and his hair smelt nice. Like apples. He briefly wondered what conditioner he used and soon fell back asleep, chin buried in soft black hair.

Chapter Text

Shouto squinted at the empty chair next to him, suspiciously absent of Midoriya. His eyes flickered around the cafeteria for him but settled on another suspiciously absent chair where Bakugou usually sat. Kirishima seemed similarly afflicted, as Shouto watched him strain his neck to look over the multitudes of people for spiky blonde hair. Shouto returned his gaze to the food in front of him and frowned deeply, those two had been very suspiciously absent from lunch several times over the last few weeks, and he was starting to think something was afoot. In class they behaved no differently and Midoriya didn’t seem to be suffering in silence, which scrapped the idea that he was receiving daily beatings or anything. It seemed extreme but he wouldn’t quite put it past Bakugou and his... volatility.

Maybe they weren’t doing anything together? Maybe they were doing separate activities? Maybe he had no reason to be so suspicious of their absences? Perhaps they were studying. In separate rooms. Every so often. Frequently. Not together.

He was wrenched from his inner musings by a concerned Ochako, who snapped her fingers near him to get his attention.

“Are you alright? You’re glaring at your food like it’s a villain.” She said, smiling.

“Yes... just thinking.”

“If you eat your lunch you can think harder!” Iida supplied, helpfully.

“Anyway,” Ochako interrupted, “have you noticed Deku acting weird lately?"

“...hm?” Todoroki hummed, now occupied with a mouthful of soba.

“It’s just... I’ve seen him bringing extra food from home, or buying it here and *giving* it to Bakugou, but I don’t think it’s extortion, or maybe it is...” she trailed off, squinting into the distance as she too considered his... volatility.

“Maybe he is helping out a friend and fellow classmate? Bakugou might have left payment at home,” Iida chimed in.

“No, he’s been buying his own food too.” Todoroki had observed this curious behaviour just yesterday, noting it as suspicious since Bakugou would often bring lunch from home, stating the prices were too high at UA.

“See! It’s not just me,” Ochako leaned back in her chair with her arms folded, agitated. “And they keep disappearing! I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

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Bakugou, eyes closed, sat against the wall of the dimly lit, dusty supply closet, and licked his lips before opening his mouth to accept another tasty morsel of food from Midoriya, barely pausing to chew before opening up for more. When none was forthcoming, he grit his teeth in irritation.

“More, Deku,” he growled. “I’m not fuckin’ full yet.”

“Oh, um, yes I know but, Kacchan, if I feed you more someone will notice. And if you eat too fast your stomach will make noise in class.”

Any complaints to the contrary, and Midoriya suspected there were many, were interrupted as he placed both hands on bakugou’s bare stomach, gently rubbing into the taught flesh to dislodge any air that might have been swallowed. Bakugou made pleased noises in the back of his throat, arching his back to push his stomach further into Midoriya’s capable hands. Midoriya humoured him for a few minutes, using massage techniques he’d perfected for his own aching muscles after a training session.

Eventually, he withdrew, and buttoned up Bakugou’s shirt for him, an unspoken signal that their time was over. Bakugou grunted in surprise, as instead of being let up, he felt Midoriya grab the sides of his shirt and push down, stretching it over the slight curve so that the buttons strained. His eyes opened, curious to see the dumb expression on Midoriya’s stupid face. He was predictably enraptured, eyes wide, and Bakugou smirked as he enjoyed the silent worship.

“Kacchan. How much do you think you’d need to eat to pop these buttons?”

“Eh? I dunno,” Bakugou’s smirk turned into a smile of bared teeth as he leaned forward, grabbing Midoriya's wrists and slowly pushing them back. He instinctively resisted for a second, but relented as Bakugou showed an uncharacteristic amount of restraint, and gently pushed forward until Midoriya was lying on the floor with his hands above his head. Bakugou leered over him.“Why? You wanna find out, shitface?”

“Yes,” Midoriya replied instantly, with far too much confidence for someone currently pinned to the floor.

“Tch, freak,” he grunted and climbed off him.

Before braving the world outside their cosy hideaway, they checked each other’s uniform for dust or anything out of place. Bakugou adjusted his pants low so they weren’t too uncomfortable when sitting, and rubbed his hands up and down his stomach through his clothes. He’d lied about not eating breakfast this morning and had, in fact, eaten a little more than usual in preparation for today. He knew he was playing with fire, but missed feeling the weight a truly full stomach had. Currently he wasn’t too bloated, his loose shirt hid the curve easily enough, and shouldn’t be noticeable to any of their classmates.

His thoughts were interrupted by a low buzzing noise, and he grit his teeth in irritation when the source revealed itself to be Midoriya muttering thoughtfully about the average tensile strength of thread. His quota of being alone with Midoriya had been filled, and without the promise of food or belly rubs there wasn’t much to keep him around. He exited the closet first without so much as a goodbye, not that Midoriya would hear it as he was now scribbling away in a notebook, and started walking briskly to get some distance. He was startled by Kirishima, calling out to him.

“HEY!”

“NOTHING?!!” Bakugou shouted on instinct. Kirishima sprinted towards him, waving a paper bag in his hand.

“Where’ve you been? You missed lunch again!”

“I was studying,” came the curt, practised reply.

“Aren’t you hungry? Here, I got you some of those extra spicy curry buns you like,” Kirishima grinned at the stunned look on Bakugou’s face and fished out two more buns from his pockets.
Bakugou regarded the pile in his friend’s hands for a moment, debating whether or not to turn them down. Would it be overly suspicious if he did? Would it make his stomach too noticeable? “Fuck it,” he muttered, and grabbed them. His gluttony winning out over his sense of caution.

Kirishima beamed as Bakugou accepted his gift, and they both leisurely walked back to class. Bakugou had initially resolved to only eat one, to pacify Kirishima, but they were hot and fresh. He barely suppressed a moan when he bit into the first one, bread crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, curry hot and spicy, and suddenly it was gone. Another wouldn’t hurt, he reasoned as he reached into the next bag, they wouldn’t take up much space. The school day was almost over, anyway.

The third curry bun was polished off by the time the bell rang, washed down by a generous amount of water. His jacket buttons felt a little tighter than usual when he took his seat so he hunched forward and tried not to regret his life choices.

“Fuck you lookin at, half-n-half,” he snarled, as Todoroki wandered past.

“You shouldn’t sit like that, it’ll hurt your back,” he retorted, not slowing down.

“I’ll hurt your back with my FIST-,” Bakugou turned in his seat to lash back, and abruptly stopped speaking as it put undue stress on his stomach.

Todoroki turned and blinked in surprise as Bakugou clamped his mouth shut instead of flinging insults, which was perhaps the oddest behaviour to date. It had long been theorised that Bakugou didn't simply convert oxygen into carbon dioxide, but insults as well and that he would die if he did not expel them at sufficiently high volumes.

Mercifully, Midoriya chose that moment to enter the classroom, distracting Todoroki with his own odd behaviour. He appeared to be deep in thought, brows knit together, as he barely acknowledged Ochako’s greeting and simply took his seat on autopilot. It took Aizawa two attempts at calling his name and Sero kicking the side of his chair to finally pull him out of his own head.

Bakugou passed the time trying to get his stomach under control, all the food he'd eaten, the curry buns, walking while eating them, none too slowly, was causing him significant digestive distress. He suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Deku’s insistence on thoroughly chewing and feeding him slowly.

Time passed at a snail's pace, seconds turning into minutes, as Bakugou felt his stomach inflating with trapped air. Burps bubbled up against his throat, but he stubbornly swallowed them back down. He wasn't able to do much about any gurgling and other such noises, but hoped no one could hear. Anyone who heard knew better than to ask or even acknowledge anything that was out of sorts. The slight, unnoticeable curve he had cultivated was now bloating into a distinct curve, one that couldn't simply be hidden by loose clothes and bad posture.

Midoriya, having been observing Bakugou for the majority of both their lifetimes, and sitting directly behind him, noticed the tensing of his shoulders. He also suspected he knew what the cause of the faint rumblings he could hear were. He lightly kicked the back of Bakugou's chair to get his attention before tapping out SOS in Morse code with his pencil. Bakugou waited a few minutes for his response to blend into the background noise and tapped back the letter Y. Midoriya pressed his lips together, the fact that Bakugou even acknowledged their secret signal meant he was in a bad state. To date, Bakugou had never deigned to respond, and Midoriya couldn't even imagine what he must be going through to do so now.

Midoriya’s eyes darted around as he tried to formulate a plan to help Bakugou dig himself out of the hole he’d buried himself in. It was almost time for the bell to ring, and he only had a few minutes. Throughout his relatively short time at UA, Midoriya had taken his fair share of risks and gambles, many of which had resulted with mixed consequences, mostly grievous bodily harm. It seemed another time was upon him. He took a deep breath to ready himself for what he was about to do, and clutched at the pile of papers that had accrued with this lesson’s material. With Aizawa’s back turned, and mere seconds before the bell was due to ring, Midoriya yelled at the top of his lungs, throwing the papers in the air so they scattered around the room, and fell off his chair in as dramatic a fashion as he could muster.

The class erupted into chaos, just as the bell chimed. Bakugou grabbed his bag and disappeared out the door, not looking back as he raced to his safe haven. No one paid him any mind, much too occupied with the distraction Midoriya was providing. Everyone gathered around the fallen hero, whose face was now flushed bright red in embarrassment, with his green hair he looked not unlike a tomato.

Aizawa simply pinched the bridge of his nose, he was not in the mood for the troublesome duo’s antics at this moment.

“Out. All of you. Go home.” He sighed, and stepped into his sleeping bag, thoroughly done with teaching for the day.

Midoriya garbled out apologies, citing a muscle spasm as the cause for his sudden outburst, and gratefully accepted the papers his classmates handed back to him. They milled out of the classroom and Midoriya laughed off their concerns, and any need to see Recovery Girl. It was a lost cause, Ochako was especially insistent, so he switched tactics and assured them he would go to the nurse’s office. Instead, he detoured, and once the coast was clear, slipped into the supply closet.

He was greeted by a pale and sweaty Bakugou, slumped against the back wall, clutching his bare, bloated stomach. Midoriya had been clutching the papers to his chest and dropped the papers again as he rushed over.

“KACCHAN! What did you do!?”

“Shut the fuck up and do something about this,” Bakugou hissed as another cramp hit him.

Midoriya huffed, amused at the sorry state Bakugou was in, and dutifully sat on the ground in front of him. Midoriya slid his hands under Bakugou’s and they fell away to allow him full access. Bakugou’s breath hitched as warm, strong hands worked their way up and around. He cracked an eyelid open to watch the way Midoriya focused on his task, and he squeaked in surprise when Bakugou pulled him closer so that he could pant into Midoriya’s ear.

“Don’t stop, fuck- I’m gonna- hah,” Bakugou gasped before burping all the trapped air directly into Midoriya’s ear.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya yelped, jerking back.

“Heh,” Bakugou grinned up at him. That never got old.

“Do you feel better after that?” Midoriya frowned and rubbed at his ear.

“Ugh, yeah. Fuck you.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, we should get you home before it gets too late.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened in surprise as Midoriya picked him up off the floor as easily as a ragdoll and started doing up the buttons on his shirt. He would never be used to the fact that the weak, frail Deku he used to know was now as strong as him, maybe even stronger. That thought was so abhorrent to him he couldn’t believe it had even crossed his mind.
“Tch, you're not stronger than me, Deku,” he snarled out.

“Okay then,” Midoriya responded, completely unruffled by the sudden change in conversation.

,
,(8,8(,).9),@),
'

They walked home slowly in silence, though Bakugou did let the occasional burp slip out, exercise was helping and his stomach had calmed down. Midoriya busied himself trying to order his crinkled homework.

Both were too distracted to notice Mother Bakugou stalking them from a ways back.

She watches from a distance, noticing how comfortable they were with each other, and was quietly pleased they seemed to be friends again. It was almost too easy to sneak up on them as they paused outside the Bakugou household, and while her son squawked like an angry chicken and Midoriya stammered out a greeting, she unloaded her grocery shopping onto them and steered them inside. It was almost time for dinner! Of course Midoriya could stay! He could chop vegetables!

,
.)8(:.&9?36)?
'

Bakugou radiated displeasure as his parents made polite conversation with Midoriya, chewing thoroughly this time around. He was far from hungry, and his stomach was aching again from the trials of the day. But the food smelled too good. And it would have been too suspicious to refuse to eat, not that it would have done much good as his mother was a force of nature. As soon as he finished his first bowl of stir fry, she served him another portion. He’d been eating a lot more recently, and chalked it up to a growth spurt, plus increased physical activity at school. Bakugou shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, and slowly but surely munched his way through. He was almost done, when Midoriya deposited some leftover beef onto his plate.

“Here, I’m not that hungry.”

Bakugou stared at Midoriya’s smiley face, sensing some kind of trap. He didn’t usually encourage Bakugou to eat in public, and absolutely knew how much he was suffering from digestive distress. Midoriya has also been refilling his glass with water as the evening wore on. Never one time back down from a challenge, he stabbed at the leftovers and shoved them into his mouth. He stifled a burp again, and downed the last of his water.

“Dad didn’t help make dinner, he can pack up. We’re going to study.” Bakugou didn’t wait for an answer as he stood, hunched over again, and held his jacket in front of him to hide how his buttons were straining.

“It was delicious, thank you!” Midoriya called out, as Bakugou grabbed him by the collar and dragged him away to his lair.

Thankfully, going down the stairs to his basement bedroom wasn’t as difficult as going up, but all the same he collapsed onto his bed without bothering to change his clothes. He curled around his aching stomach, wincing as Midoriya followed behind him. He slotted himself between Bakugou and the wall, safe from being pushed out of bed, undid the shirt buttons for him.

“I can’t believe you managed to eat a whole bowl of stir fry,” Midoriya said softly. “Especially in your condition.”

“Two. You didn’t help, you fuck, giving me your -hurp- leftovers,” Bakugou grumbled.

“Oh! You’re right,” he conceded. “Even more impressive.”

Bakugou’s stomach and ego was soothed by gentle hands and words. He had eaten more than this one sitting, but the seemingly constant steam food, and the hiccup from earlier today, had put his poor stomach through the wringer, and it was none too happy about it. The sounds of digestion normalised under Midoriya’s skilled hands, and Bakugou’s breathing slowed as he slipped away from consciousness. Midoriya chuckled softly as Bakugou sleepily pulled him closer and buried his nose in fluffy green hair. It seemed to be a favourite position of a stuffed and sleepy Bakugou, and an endless source of irritation to him when he was fully awake.

Midoriya savoured these quiet moments, they reminded him of the calm before the storm.

Chapter Text

Bakugou watched Midoriya and Kirishima whisper to each other with their heads together and felt a shiver run up his spine, in annoyance or anticipation he couldn't tell. Those two were nothing but trouble but combined they were a disaster just waiting to happen. His suspicions of impending doom were confirmed when Kirishima confronted him outside the school gate and took his own shirt off. Bakugou was at a loss for words, wondering what the fuck was happening to make him start stripping in public. The brief lapse in concentration made him vulnerable to attack and suddenly Kirishima had him in a headlock and was dragging him down the street.

He garbled out insults and swears, heedless of the looks they were garnering from the public, palms sparking as he tried to get Kirishima off of him without actually using his quirk in public. This was Deku’s handiwork, he thought to himself, his grubby mitts were all over it. The shirt removal had the dual purpose of distracting him while also getting it out of harm’s way so it didn't catch on fire.

“Trust me, this’ll be fun,” Kirishima laughed, and suddenly let go.

Bakugou staggered back, teeth bared, and blinked at his surroundings. They were standing outside a buffet restaurant, bright lights and signs blinked at him, advertising the delicious food inside.

“What the fuck.”

“Happy birthday! C’mon man, hope you’re hungry!” he tugged his shirt back on and held the door open, grinning.

The smell of food drifted out, and he wavered, his appetite won out over his rage in a matter of seconds. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stomped inside, recognising Midoriya and a few of their classmates sitting at a large table wearing garish party hats, Kaminari, Sero, Mina, Ochako waved at him, while Todoroki watched him impassively. Kirishima sat, leaving the head of the table empty, and Bakugou took his place glaring at Midoriya, who was at the other end, avoiding eye-contact. This was absolutely his doing, everyone else might be fooled but Bakugou knew that beneath that fluffy head of hair was a cunning brain. One might even go so far as to call it villainous.

“Happy birthday!” Kaminari chimed in, interrupting Bakugou from glaring at Midoriya.

“We all chipped in so you're covered,” Ochako said.

A chorus of ‘happy birthdays’ went up from around the table, and Kirishima attempted to put a hat on Bakugou, who snapped at him literally. Kirishima backed off and out the hat on himself instead, wearing two like horns.

“We invited everyone but, uh, most said no.” Sero said nervously.

“What’s he doing here, then,” Bakugou jerked his chin at Todoroki.

“I was hungry.”

“Lets eat!” Mina said, clapping her hands together, defusing the situation.

The group dispersed, branching off to retrieve some food. Bakugou stacked his plate high with dumplings and sushi, and returned to the table. He hunched over it, and made no attempt to join in on the conversations with his friends, opting instead to stuff his face. He listened though, letting the sounds of their voices wash over him, if they really needed him they’d say something. He made eye contact with Midoriya, while he was mid-conversation with Todoroki and smirked, wondering if he was enjoying the show. Midoriya’s cheeks pinked a little but otherwise he showed no indication he saw. Todoroki noticed the blush and turned to squint at Bakugou, who had returned his attention to his food.

His next serving was as much fried rice as he could possibly fit on his plate, and he washed it down with a glass of water. After that was vegetables, steamed but with a healthy dose of oil and dipped in various sauces. He then attacked the meat dishes, sampling all the food groups: beef, pork, chicken and fish. Another glass of water joined the first one, and he ignored the suspicious glances he was getting from Todoroki and Ochako. His last trip was to the desert station, but he was feeling somewhat nauseous and opted to grab a bowl of assorted fruits to nibble on, something fresh and crisp.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Bakugou took his time eating, pacing himself, enjoying getting fuller over time without having to rush. Each time he went back, it got more difficult to heave himself out of his chair, and he relished the feeling of his tightening clothes. While he munched contently on his fifth serving, most of his classmates tapped out after one or two plates, said their goodbyes and headed home, until Kirishima, Midoriya, Bakugou and Ochako were left. Mina, Sero and Kaminari bequeathed their pointy party hats to Kirishima, who was now resembling a child's drawing of Sonic the Hedgehog. Ochako and Todoroki were now even more suspicious of Bakugou and Midoriya, while Kirishima, struggling to finish his third plate, was simply in awe of Bakugou's appetite, completely oblivious to the vibe between them all.

“Oh, I'm full, Kacchan, can you finish this?’ Midoriya asked during a lull in conversation, all innocent like.

“Oof, me too,” Kirishima grunted.

“And me,” Todoroki, had a bowl of mostly soba and passed it over. Truth be told he could have eaten it himself, but he was feeling sadistic and wanted to see how much Bakugou could eat with his pride still intact.

The other two did the same, and Bakugou placed a hand on his side as he gazed at all the food in front of him. His eyes flicked up to see Midoriya watching him intently, and he grinned.

“You can’t possibly eat that much,” Ochako scoffed.

“Fucking watch me.”

He attacked his food with renewed vigour, no longer worrying about pacing himself, just showing off to his friends and maybe to himself too. Finally, he swirled the last of the noodles with his fork and didn’t bother chewing before swallowing with some difficulty. He sat back with a grunt and squeezed his eyes shut, he was definitely full now. His clothes strained and his belt was tight, it creaked ominously as he shifted.

“That was so manly, bro!” Kirishima exclaimed from somewhere at his side. “You can really pack it away.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he groaned.

“We should go, it’s getting late,” Ochako said, while rolling her eyes.

Bakugou huffed as he heaved himself out of his chair, much heavier now than when he first walked in. He snapped at Kirishima who tried to help, no one else even made an attempt. He clutched at his stomach and slowly shuffled out the door, getting used to his new centre of gravity.

“You alright to get home?” Kirishima asked, poking at Bakugou’s swollen middle.

“I’ll walk him home don’t worry,” Midoriya piped up.

“Here, this’ll help.”

Ochako stepped in close, fearless, and poked a finger in between the straining buttons where a sliver of pale flesh was just visible. Bakugou’s eyes widened and he moved to swat her away but the ground fell out from under him as he was suddenly made weightless.

“Kacchan!!” Midoriya yelped, and grabbed at his jacket, bringing him back to earth.

Bakugou seethed with rage and opened his mouth to demand she undo this floating nonsense immediately but clamped his mouth shut to stop his food from coming back up. He settled for wordlessly glaring at her.

“Text me when you get to his house and I’ll undo it,” Ochako waved her hand flippantly and turned to go.

“Oh, that’s smart!” Kiri laughed. “Don’t let go!”

“Um- uh- yeah I won’t,” Midoriya bowed and tugged Bakugou away, who was feeling well enough to angrily hiss and sputter like a pot boiling over.

Luckily it was dark, with few people out and about to witness a floating UA student. Midoriya adjusted his grip to the back of the jacket, between the shoulder blades, and held Bakugou down so he could at least go through the motions of walking. They didn’t talk, mostly because Bakugou couldn't quite manage a word without risking making a mess. He let out a few wet burps, weightlessness wreaking havoc on his stomach.

Bakugou would have sooner eaten his shoe than admit this to a living soul, but he was looking forward to getting a tummy rub from Midoriya. He clenched his teeth, annoyed at himself for even admitting that fact to himself. What had Deku done to him.

He was distracted from his thoughts by his house finally coming into view. His parent’s birthday present was for them to stay at a hotel overnight so he could have the house to himself. Midoriya frowned at the dark windows, but decided not to question it since Bakugou didn’t seem to be too concerned. Bakugou couldn’t stop himself from groaning in relief when the front door clicked shut behind them. Finally, some privacy.

“Kacchan-“

“Phone. Couch. NOW.” He grit out.

“Oh! Oh right, hang on,” Midoriya dug his phone out while he dragged Bakugou over to the living room.

He let Bakugou situate himself over the couch, digging his fingers into the couch cushions, and let go of his jacket to text Ochako. It must have been only a few seconds later before Bakugou’s weight came flooding back and he crashed into the cushions with a grunt. He clutched at his stomach and moaned as the heaviness settled and pinned him to the couch. He scrambled to undo his shirt buttons, his belt buckle, anything for relief, but he was stopped by Midoriya grabbing his wrists.

“Whaddafuck, Deku.”

“W-well I just, um, the night’s not over, I have something else…” he mumbled, and pulled out three blocks of chocolate from his backpack. “Maybe we can, ah, test your limits?”

Bakugo rubbed the sides of his round stomach thoughtfully, Midoriya wanted him to eat more? It wasn’t that simple, the cunning bastard wanted to see some buttons pop. It was so obvious, and Bakugou wondered if he had it in him to try. Honestly, the thought excited him, he had definitely eaten his fill but he could handle a little more. And the quiet, private, intimacy his empty house afforded them was too good an opportunity to pass up. But only three blocks? Weak. “Get the milk from the fridge,” he finally relented.

Midoriya beamed, and disappeared to go rifling through the kitchen. In the meantime, Bakugou got comfortable by swinging his legs up and shuffling his butt so he could stretch out on the couch and piled throw pillows behind him to prop himself up. He settled, and eyed his bloated stomach, idly plucking at the straining buttons. Midoriya seemed to be taking his sweet time grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge, how hard could such a simple task be. But the sound of the blender whizzing indicated that he was busy with other plans.

Bakugou amused himself by inspecting the chocolate, it was a flavour he’d never seen before: cherry and chilli with a mousse filling. He wasn’t even aware chilli could be paired with chocolate, much less cherry. His face twisted in disgust at the thought of Deku going shopping for him, thinking about his likes and dislikes and finding weird foods he thought he might like with that stupid grin on his face. Awful. Owner of said stupid grin walked into view with the blender pitcher almost overflowing with a pale frothy concoction.

“I thought a milkshake might taste better? I added ice cream and some ice, a bit of sugar too. You didn’t have much desert at the restaurant.”

“Fine -urp- whatever. I don’t care.” He muttered, and loosely crossed his legs so Midoriya had room to sit.

He avoided his gaze by tearing into the first block of chocolate, enjoying the silkiness of the mousse. He didn’t even bother to break the squares off and simply bit into it, and as Midoriya worried he’d accidentally eat some of the packet too, he sat cross legged on the couch, facing Bakugou.

The first block was easy, the taste of chocolate, cherry, and chilli mingled on his tongue and he was slightly disappointed to find it wasn’t quite as spicy as he hoped. He swallowed the last bite with some difficulty and felt a prickle of nausea so he sat up a little straighter and held out his hand for the pitcher, which Midoriya eagerly handed it over. He drank deeply, revelling in how each gulp was making him fuller and rounder, that much closer to popping a button. He gasped when he finally stopped, panting for breath, but his lungs felt constricted with significantly less room to expand.

Midoriya had unwrapped the next block, and traded it for the pitcher. Bakugou hiccupped but suppressed any burps, this time keeping them in on purpose, and ate the second block slowly. Picking off a square, one by one, and taking frequent gulps of milkshake when he needed to. He had drunk almost a third by now, and groaned with a mouthful of chocolate when he thought about how much he’d drunk, and was going to drink.

The last square disappeared into his mouth and he swallowed with difficulty. The buttons on his shirt creaked ominously, but he wasn’t done yet. He watched, dazed, as Midoriya unwrapped the last block and held out a square to him. He grumbled as he leaned forward to eat it, wincing as his belt dug into him. He couldn’t think too much about it as another square floated into view. And then the milkshake, and another square. Midoriya slowly but surely fed him the rest of the chocolate, interspersed with sips of milkshake, until only crumbs were left.

Bakugou was a sweaty, panting mess. His stomach was rumbling and gurgling from all the food he’d eaten and the air that was trapped inside. There wasn’t even enough room for him to feel proud of what he’d accomplished. But those buttons refused to budge. Midoriya was a little disappointed himself, but shuffled closer, unfolding his legs so he was kneeling on the couch, almost leaning over Bakugou and lifted his chin up. Bakugou blinked up at him, confused. There wasn’t any chocolate, he was done.

“Just a little bit of milkshake left, open up Kacchan!”

His eyes widened as Midoriya put the pitcher to his lips and tipped it. He swallowed on reflex, more and more milkshake pouring into him. It was almost too much, but wasn’t about to turn down the obvious challenge Midoriya was offering him. He almost choked when a button finally popped off, the relief was instantaneous, he could stop now, but Midoriya didn’t let up until he had swallowed it all. A river of milk later, and he finally drank the whole thing. He slumped back against the pillows he’d piled against the armrest and winced at the sloshy feeling inside him.

“Frk,” he gasped, an attempt at admonishment.

“Wow did you see that! You really did it!” Midoriya prattled on excitedly fishing the button from between the couch cushions and holding it up to the light.

Bakugou grimaced, not interested in buttons at the moment. He was far more preoccupied with the discomfort he was feeling, and with a shock he noticed he couldn’t reach the buckle, he’d leaned too far back and struggled against the size and weight of his stomach to undo it. Midoriya was studying the button intensely, muttering about how best to preserve it for posterity. If only he could reach his belt. “Deku, please…”

They both froze. Bakugou’s soul withered, died and ascended to the heavens, screaming, when he realised he had just said that out loud, and steam leaked out of Midoriya’s ears as he processed what had just been said. The words hung between them, crackling with potential. Bakugou’s stomach, increasingly upset at being neglected, grumbled loudly and insistently. His face twisted as the trapped air roiled within, sending pangs shooting up his side.

“Oh- oh! Right, yes, I just- I got distracted- first I should...,” flustered and not quite sure what to do with himself, Midoriya unbuckled the belt.

Bakugou went cross eyed as his stomach surged forward, no longer trapped, and his pants button popped off. Midoriya gasped and grabbed it as it bounced off his chest, pocketing it next to its compatriot. He undid the rest of the shirt buttons, revealing more of Bakugou’s stretched abs, and noted how they were almost flat with only slight definition remaining. He laid a hand flush against the taught surface and rubbed clockwise, trying to normalise digestion and release some pockets of air. Bakugou’s tense muscles relaxed and he closed his eyes as he enjoyed the tummy rub. He could feel an absolute monster of a belch gathering like a storm under that hand. He suddenly snapped to attention, grabbed Midoriya's jacket sleeves, and pulled him so close that their noses almost touched. Midoriya tried to pull away but it was too late, Bakugou was too strong, so he turned his face away and scrunched his eyes shut knowing full well what was coming. But no thunderous expulsion was forthcoming, as Bakugou pressed his lips to Midoriya's soft cheek in a gentle kiss. Midoriya‘s face went slack and eyes blinked open while his jaw dropped as he turned to face Bakugou, utterly bewildered, who then decided to let loose the pocket of air he’d been cultivating.

“KACCHAN!! Stop doing that to me, my mouth was open that time!!”

“M-urp- make me,” he grinned. “You -hic!- you did- urp- this.”

It was hard to argue with that. Bakugou has been reduced to a swollen, panting, stuttering heap and it was indeed somewhat both their faults. Midoriya whipped the spittle from his face, put a hand on either side of Bakugou’s huge stomach and ever so slightly squeezed. Bakugou yelped and snarled, jerked out of his smug haze by a stab of pain. He took a swing but Midoriya just leaned back, and chuckled as Bakugou struggled like a turtle on its back. The activity jiggled his stomach and he collapsed back onto the pillows, burping and panting, having worked up quite a sweat. Fucking Deku.

Midoriya took pity on him, and rolled off the couch. He made Bakugou lean forward so he could remove some of the pillows behind him and slid into their place. He settled behind Bakugou, who relaxed against him, and hugged him tight, but not too tight.

“Happy birthday, K-Katsuki,” he mumbled into the shell of Bakugou’s ear, almost afraid to say it out loud

“Yeah... Izudeku,” he said in return. He wasn’t quite ready to say his full name out loud so settled on a mangling of the nickname.

Midoriya smiled to himself, and resumed rubbing Bakugou’s poor abused stomach, listening as his breathing slowed as he slipped into a deep, satisfied sleep.