[he's not gonna leave the damn food on the bed to go to waste. the hotel provided it to them, and while he's not entirely trusting it to be benign, what's the worst that can happen? sex, not death. bakugo sets the tray down on the counter, having tied the sheet around his waist to form a neat makeshift sarong for decency. he glances at the man's leg again. past wound, huh.
leaving it at that, he gathers a few plates from the cabinet overhead, and begins working on dividing up the joint breakfast provided by the hotel. sure it's suggesting them to share the fancy pot of rich oatmeal, fork either end of an omelette, play the pocky game with bacon strips, and whatever the hell you do with the muffins. bakugo's not having it.
nehan's making tea, and he's not gonna stand around doing nothing.]
I could shut you up.
[and tosses a muffin in the air before catching it with an insinuating side snap of his hand. cram this right into that mouth over there...]
no subject
leaving it at that, he gathers a few plates from the cabinet overhead, and begins working on dividing up the joint breakfast provided by the hotel. sure it's suggesting them to share the fancy pot of rich oatmeal, fork either end of an omelette, play the pocky game with bacon strips, and whatever the hell you do with the muffins. bakugo's not having it.
nehan's making tea, and he's not gonna stand around doing nothing.]
I could shut you up.
[and tosses a muffin in the air before catching it with an insinuating side snap of his hand. cram this right into that mouth over there...]