The question seemed rhetorical, so Todoroki didn't bother with explaining why he was looking at Bakugo like he was a bowl of his favorite noodles. He let out an amused breath, only pausing when he felt Bakugo's hand at his wrist. There was a threat in his words, but there wasn't much one in his grip. Todoroki had seen his share of threatening situations since he was a child, and right now? Bakguo didn't hold any real venom, if he ever did when it came to him.
"You won't." His came smooth, tone low and steady. "If you wanted to, you would have tried already." He could hear the rush of blood, the thump of his heart. If he focused enough, he was pretty sure he could feel his pulse against his skin. He might have been saying one thing, but there wasn't the tell tale flutter of fear. How Todoroki was confident in that, he couldn't explain. Perhaps, it was just some kind of added instinct that came with the bloodlust.
He glanced down at Bakugo's knee, keeping one hand at the collar of his shirt, moving the other hand to rest atop his leg, giving it a small push to the side and leaning in even more to keep him from putting it back between them. "Do you really want me to?" Of course, it didn't entirely matter whether Bakugo wanted this or not, but some part of Todoroki didn't actually want to hurt the other boy.
Instead, he just nudged at his jaw with his nose, something way too soft and intimate really for the level of friendship they didn't really have to begin with. He gave a small hum, looking up for any sign Bakugo was about to explode in some way before lifting his hand from his leg up to work his fingers into his hair, the blonde strands surprisingly soft for they style. He breathed in deep and it suddenly felt like too much, the wild something mingling still with the underlying sweetness that Bakugo seemed to naturally have.
"Relax..." The next instant probably would have made that near impossible though as he gave Bakugo's hair a jerk to make him tilt his head, the bite swift and precise at first, all raw instinct as his fangs sink into Bakugo's neck. The finesse is quickly lost however, his tongue roughly lapping at the first traces of blood before his grip tightens and he's sucking, hard, like that will magically make the blood faster, like he has to really work hard for this taste. He would, some tiny part of his brain offers. It suddenly seemed like the only thing that mattered in the entire world, however long Bakugo might let it last.