Chapter Text
Uraraka sighed and squeezed her pillow against her ears in a poor attempt to muffle the sounds coming from the room next door. This was getting ridiculous. And awkward. And so, so embarrassing. She really, truly didn’t care what her new roommate did with his nights or who he spent time with on his off hours but when she’d offered her spare room to Bakugou Katsuki after his apartment complex got pulverized, she hadn’t even thought about this possibility. If she had, she would have laid out some ground rules regarding… company.
Another moan, this one significantly louder, made its way through the drywall and Uraraka thought she might burst into flames.
Oh my god…
Uraraka squeezed the pillow tighter and cursed herself for forgetting—for the third time this week—to pick up earplugs on her way home from work. Ignoring it was preferable to confronting him. Or at least that was what she thought at the beginning of the week. But after five days—five—in a row, she was starting to rethink her previous position. What the hell kind of stamina did this man have, anyway?
Maybe the thought hadn’t occurred to her because dating just wasn’t in her cards right now or because she hadn’t dated period since her adult life began. Or… ever, really. Or maybe she had simply been oblivious to Bakugou’s popularity with women. Which, if she was being honest, was odd and absolutely bewildering. Even now, with some woman moaning on the other side of her wall. She couldn’t imagine him being romantic or smooth or endearing or charming. She certainly couldn’t imagine him going out to pick anyone up. She couldn’t imagine him as boyfriend material. Maybe it was his increasing presence in the media attracting the attention…?
Whatever it was didn’t change the fact that hearing her sort-of friend, coworker, and partner having sex on the other side of the wall every night was weird as hell. She couldn’t even bring herself to look over at her alarm clock—she didn’t need to know exactly how long they’d been going at it. Inexperienced as she may be, she knew it had been awhile. Putting an exact number to it would only be more embarrassing.
How on earth was she supposed to talk to him about this? Did she bring it up during breakfast? At work? On patrol? Should she get up and knock on his door? Should she just hit the wall, hoping he got the hint?
Uraraka was certain her face couldn’t get any hotter as the noises on the other side of the wall increased in volume and… intensity? No, no, no, she shook her head in a frenzy, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to squeeze the pillow tighter. She couldn’t tell if her ears were burning from the pressure of her hands or the sheer embarrassment encompassing her entire being. This was too weird.
“Ah-! Katsuki!”
She couldn’t take it anymore; keeping the pillow firmly against her ears, Uraraka jumped from her bed and ran to her door. Maybe it would be quieter in the kitchen? If not, she’d just go wait on the balcony. Or the hallway. At this point she’d be willing to run all the way outside and down the three flights of stairs and just wait on the street. Anything would be better than this. Anything. The brisk fall air would be a small price to pay to get away from the sounds.
Because—Uraraka’s stomach twisted at her inner admission—her brain couldn’t stop imagining the activities that were making those sounds… and envisioning Bakugou naked, tangled up in her sheets with some faceless woman, was the last thing she ever expected she’d do in her life. Ever.
“F-fuck… Katsuki! I-I’m gonna…!”
No, no, no, no! Uraraka threw her pillow across the room and pushed herself through her bedroom door and into the kitchen. It was immediately, painfully obvious that the wailing was somehow even louder from there. Her embarrassment was quickly turning to anger and Uraraka wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of her lungs and pound on the door but at this point she wasn’t sure if they’d even notice. With a frustrated groan, she dashed to the sliding door and took refuge on the balcony, practically slamming it behind her.
Finally… Uraraka let out a sigh, relieved that the world around her was quiet.
This was officially out of control. When she had offered Bakugou her spare room, she thought she was being a good friend. A good partner. Bakugou’s entire apartment complex, along with several surrounding buildings had basically been turned to rubble last weekend during a villain encounter. Everyone had been evacuated with minimal casualties, which was easily the only silver lining to the situation. Her offer had basically turned to begging after Bakugou had seemed less than enthusiastic about the prospect of living with her. It had honestly seemed like a good idea at the time—a great idea even! They worked the same hours and she lived within walking distance so he wouldn’t have to take the train every morning. It felt like a win for both of them from all sides. Now Uraraka was wondering if he wasn’t into her offer not because it was her home but because of his… excessive nighttime excursions. And now she was just pissed off because if that was why, he could have at least mentioned it or put it on pause for her sake! Given her a pair of complimentary earplugs? Or, at least controlled the volume, for crying out loud.
She sighed again and peered back through the window, wondering how long it would take for this mystery woman to… finish… and be on her way. As far as Uraraka could tell, Bakugou’s guests always left before morning because she’d never actually seen any of them. The only thing she knew for sure was that whoever had invaded her home this night was definitely not the same one yesterday. This one was much more… vocal. And she’d kept calling him Katsuki. The others hadn’t done that.
Uraraka shifted on her feet, shook her head, and tried to focus on literally anything else, finally shivering as the obvious cold air made its way to her exposed arms and legs. This wasn’t exactly the weather for shorts and a tank top, but she hadn’t expected to be standing outside at 3am. And she hadn’t had the foresight or time to grab a jacket.
This had to be the last straw… she’d have to confront Bakugou about all of this. She felt like an intruder in her own home, she couldn’t sleep, she was impossibly uncomfortable to the infinite degree, and maybe worst of all: she simply could not stop her brain from imagining everything she heard. It was broadening her imagination in ways she would have preferred to stay closed off and it was bound to make things weird between them eventually, if it hadn’t already. She was certain that every time she heard someone refer to him as “Katsuki”, her brain would jump back to right now. And the two of them had an awkward enough dynamic in a professional setting simply because Bakugou was Bakugou and even though they’d graduated UA a year ago and started working together at the agency six months ago, it could still be annoyingly tense. Bakugou had grown enough to understand the importance of teamwork as a hero but implementing it was still obviously difficult for him.
Uraraka wasn’t sure what had prompted their make-shift hero partnership at the agency, but she knew that their quirks were unquestionably compatible in battle. They’d even made the headlines a few times since they’d begun patrolling together. Because of that, the agency made it official, and they were forced to do every bit of their hero work together.
She fought a smile, remembering how Bakugou acted in front of the camera the first time, uncharacteristically shy but still wearing the signature scowl… she’d done most of the talking in that interview despite being a bundle of nerves herself.
No. Uraraka reminded herself. I’m pissed at him. No reminiscing.
Finally, Uraraka spotted movement through the window as Bakugou’s door opened and light spilled into the dark living room. The girl came out first, her face unfamiliar, and Bakugou followed lazily behind her. Uraraka blinked in surprise and forced her gaze away as the two of them reached the front door and he grabbed onto her waist, dipping down to plant a rough kiss on her lips. There was a carnal urgency behind it… like he couldn’t control himself. Uraraka’s breath caught in her throat; It made her think that she shouldn’t have seen it in the first place.
Uraraka didn’t dare look back through the window after the front door closed, hoping that her unconventional roommate wouldn’t notice her bedroom door wide open or her figure beyond the glass and just go back to his room and finally go to bed so she could go back inside and get some sleep.
Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on her side.
Bakugou pulled the sliding door open with an irritated grunt and Uraraka twirled around with a yelp, meeting his narrowed cardinal eyes.
Oops.
“What the actual fuck are you doing, Round-Face?”
She couldn’t help but notice that his voice rang deeper and more hoarse than usual; his typically unruly hair was damp and drooped, looking almost tame in the aftermath. The most glaring thing of all though was the sheen of sweat on his bare torso. She swallowed, tearing her eyes back to his face, unable to think of anything to say. That mystery woman’s voice echoed in her ears and she was relieved that Bakugou’s quirk didn’t involve reading her thoughts…
When she’d decided to confront Bakugou about his behavior, she’d hoped for some time to formulate a plan of attack. Maybe in the morning or after work… not right now, not when he was shirtless, not when it looked and sounded like he had literally just finished up his nighttime activities mere moments before. Uraraka hoped he couldn’t see the embarrassment she felt rise to her face.
“Getting… some air?” While it wasn’t even entirely false it sounded like a lie and his glower reached new levels of intimidation in response.
He was silent for a moment before stepping aside, “Get inside, idiot. You’re shivering.”
And whose fault is that? She grumbled inwardly, walking briskly past him, darting for her bedroom door.
“Oy, Uraraka, hold on.”
She sighed and turned around to face him again, “We have an early day tomorrow, so…”
“Come on. Spit it out.”
“Spit what—”
He stopped her with a look and crossed his arms, waiting.
“Could you be any louder?” She finally groaned, placing her hands firmly on her hips and letting her irritation seep into her voice, “Seriously, Bakugou, I can’t sleep with all that… noise every night! You’re free to do what you want, I can’t really tell you what to do, but these walls are paper thin, you know? It’s weird! I don’t want to hear it!” She tried to sound as mature as she could manage, but even if her voice hadn’t given her away, the heat pooling in her cheeks definitely would.
Bakugou looked shocked for a moment before returning to his usual, exasperated expression, “I thought you were asleep.”
She frowned, “I was. You woke me up, dummy.”
“Oh,” His face contorted into a wide, maniacal grin and his eyes gleamed in the dim light. There was mischief on his face. It almost made Uraraka forget how to breathe. For a split second she thought that she might finally understand his appeal a little better. You know, if you were into the whole predator stalking its prey kind of vibe. “So, you heard everything, then?” There was nothing close to shame in his voice, no embarrassment, he almost looked pleased with himself as he stared her down just a few feet away. There was something intimidating about his posture but whether that stemmed from his semi-nakedness showing off the tensed muscles of his crossed arms, or the roughness of his voice, she wasn’t sure.
“I tried not to! Don’t be an idiot—”
The grin widened, “Sorry, Uraraka,” He did not sound sorry in the slightest, “Didn’t mean to corrupt your virgin ears.”
It was hard to quantify the sheer number of emotions she felt twisting and tugging at her insides. She could only stare back at him, wide-eyed, mouth agape, in sheer frustration. Before this moment she had never been embarrassed or ashamed at her lack of a love life. Honestly, she hadn’t even given it a thought this past year. She was busy and no one had ever quite caught her eye enough to force herself to make the time. But… now that she actually thought about it, she probably was a little out of the ordinary when it came to her other peers and colleagues her age. She was almost 20 years old; all her friends from high school had boyfriends or girlfriends now, although most of them had at least dated someone when they were still teenagers. But… no one had asked her out before; and she could only imagine herself being a bundle of nerves in any romantic scenario, so the idea of pursuing someone herself felt impossible…
Uraraka’s gaze fell from Bakugou’s face to the floor under their feet and let her hands fall to her sides. Her eyes were stinging. Her face was warm with embarrassment. And Bakugou was standing there, his crazy eyes burning into her, like he hadn’t just caused this annoying internal dilemma. If his goal had been to deflect, he’d definitely accomplished it.
“Just… keep it down in the future,” She mumbled, knowing she couldn’t have sounded less stern in her demand, “Who your girlfriend is or who you date is none of my business, so don’t make me make it my business, alright?”
He snickered, prickling at her annoyance once more, and shook his head at her, feigning shock, “So… Uravity’s a prude, who knew.”
His tone was unbearably sarcastic. She didn’t like the attitude. Uraraka felt her confidence returning along with the bubbling anger rising in her stomach. She hadn’t expected any sort of gratitude out of Bakugou when she’d offered him her apartment until he found a new place to live. However, she couldn’t condone the blatant disrespect of her wishes or his utter disregard for how uncomfortable he was making her. In her own home.
Uraraka pursed her lips and stood up straighter, “No need to be such an asshole, Ground Zero,” She seethed, “I didn’t have to let you stay here and I really don’t need to let it continue if you’re going to act like this! I’m not being unreasonable—you are.”
Bakugou quirked an eyebrow, seemingly surprised at the change in her demeanor, “I never said you were being unreasonable,” he said calmly, “I also didn’t fucking say I wouldn’t cool it.”
She blinked at him, confused, but narrowed her eyes suspiciously as he continued.
He uncrossed his arms and took a few nonchalant steps in her direction, “All I said was that you were a virgin and a prude… and you got defensive as hell.” He shrugged, letting the wide, mischievous grin return to his face, “Which just proves I was right.”
He was doing this on purpose—trying to get a rise out of her. She could see the amusement on his face even without the lights on. It was really starting to piss her off. But it pissed her off even more that it was working. Bakugou had always been good at getting under her skin and she had no idea why he seemed to get such a kick out of it.
“I’m not a prude!” Uraraka huffed, practically stomping her foot in protest.
“Yeah?” He chided, “What was it you called her, huh?”
She hesitated for a moment, unsure where he was going with this, “What?”
“You called her my girlfriend, didn’t you?” He let out a low, throaty chuckle, like that was somehow the funniest thing he’d ever heard, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Reika isn’t my girlfriend. I don’t have time for any of that shit.” When she didn’t respond, Bakugou rolled his eyes and laughed again, louder this time, “Holy shit, are you really that clueless?”
Uraraka stared at him blankly before realization hit her like a tidal wave. Fresh embarrassment lit up her face. There was no coming back from this. She almost wished Bakugou would blow the roof to smithereens so she could just float way into the sky, drifting until the end of time. No amount of backtracking could save this blunder and she wished, briefly, that she’d just stayed in her room and endured the cries of Bakugou’s guest, so this conversation had never happened in the first place.
“Caught on yet, Uraraka?” His voice was teasing—she hadn’t realized just how close he’d gotten until he leaned forward to look her in the eye, “She’s a jumpoff. Fuck buddy. Friend with benefits. Need me to keep going or—”
“No, no, no, I get it, alright!?” She yelped, raising her hands in awkward surrender, “No more synonyms please!”
Bakugou scoffed, the grin never leaving his face, “See?” His voice was close, his face was way too close, “Prude.”
“J-just tell me you’ll keep it down and save me this suffering, Bakugou…” She murmured, suddenly self-conscious at his proximity. His gaze kept her feet firmly in place; the flicker of his crimson eyes to her lips made her hold her breath and his silence made her believe that she might actually die of embarrassment.
Uraraka couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through his head as she stood there frozen, painfully aware of his breath just inches away from her face. Could he hear her heartbeat pounding away under her chest? It sounded like a terrible, frantic, rhythm to her ears. There was literally no way he couldn’t hear it. The real problem was why her heart was deciding to react this way at all. Sure, Bakugou was technically attractive, his muscles were on full display and the glaze in his eyes as he stared back at her was embarrassingly captivating. He was no stranger, she’d known him for years, but he’d never had this effect on her before—so why now? Why after she’d listened to him having sex on the other side of her bedroom wall, with some random woman that he’d easily dismissed as a quick lay? Why after he’d insulted her and acted like a total jerk? She couldn’t say she approved of his lifestyle; it made her wildly uncomfortable. Which made her physiological reaction that much more confusing. And frustrating.
She swallowed the lump in her throat but still couldn’t seem to reclaim her voice.
Unsurprisingly, Bakugou didn’t seem to have that problem.
“Sure thing, Angel-Face,” his voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and coated in some emotion that was completely foreign to her; it sent shivers down her spine, “I’ll keep the moaning to a minimum.” Bakugou stayed fixed for another heartbeat, a twinge of amusement in his expression, before drawing himself upright and turning and heading back to his room. He shot one last look over his shoulder at her before closing the door behind him.
Uraraka stood frozen for another minute, staring after her new roommate in bewilderment before reaching up and slapping some sense into her warm cheeks.
“Thanks… I think?” She murmured, suddenly wide awake.
What the heck… was that about?
Luckily for Uraraka—or maybe her heart—the next few days at the agency were extraordinarily busy, consisting of two all-nighters and endless cups of coffee, which proved a fantastic distraction from the tornado of thoughts twisting around in her head. All of them revolving around her foul-mouthed, quick-tempered, surprisingly horny roommate and partner, Bakugou Katsuki.
She was still trying to work out the events of a few nights ago and what they meant—if they meant anything at all. Was it anything? Bakugou liked to mess around, after all. He had probably just been trying to get a rise out of her. If that was his only goal, he’d been begrudgingly successful. Honestly, Uraraka was beginning to think she imagined it all because beginning that next morning he was acting like his usual self, making jokes and swearing up a storm, patrolling the streets next to her in his hero garb, as if nothing happened at all. Which was fair. Nothing had happened. But the moment had been… tense. At least it had been for her. She wondered if he even remembered the way he’d looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that before. She couldn’t decide if that was unsettling or not.
Uraraka yawned and snuck a peek at Bakugou as they strolled down the street back to the agency. Today had been a doozy, and that was putting it mildly. Uravity and Ground Zero had apprehended seven—seven—separate villains during their eight-hour patrol. No one had been particularly challenging, but the sheer volume had been exhausting. Up until recently, things had been relatively calm, save for the occasional skirmish. Most days they didn’t encounter any trouble at all. She was just grateful that there hadn’t been any major damage to the city… she was too tired for the mountains of paperwork that would’ve entailed.
Despite the long day, Bakugou walked with purpose, head held high, his usual deep scowl highlighted by his mask, grumbling to himself.
“What is it?” She asked, picking up her pace to match his strides.
He shook his head, “I’m fucking tired.”
Uraraka raised an eyebrow and ignored his grumpy tone, “It’s about those villains today, right? It bothered me too.”
Bakugou gave her a sideways look, “Yeah,” He finally said, “It felt… coordinated. Those fuckers are up to something.”
“The insignia,” Uraraka responded with a nod, “They each had that same design on their outfits; what do you think it means?”
“No idea,” He spat, his face contorting in anger, “They obviously belong to the same organization or some shit. But they’re small fry. Useless. Not even worth our time. Whatever they’re after though…” He shook his head again, obviously annoyed that there weren’t enough pieces to put the puzzle together, “Fuckin’ beats me.”
As the two of them arrived at their agency, Uraraka breathed a sigh of relief. The two of them had been working for twelve days straight and it was finally their weekend. She wished that the hero course at UA would have prepared her for the brutal hours. Nevertheless, Uraraka smiled to herself, two full days off. Obviously, if either of them were out and happened to witness something, they wouldn’t turn a blind eye, but the idea of not having to go out looking for danger for two whole days gave her a burst of energy.
The only downside was…
Uraraka glanced at Bakugou as he stomped over to the men’s locker room and sighed.
If he had that much free time, who knew what he was going to do. She knew she’d have to prepare herself for more of his company. Luckily, even if he’d had anyone over these past few days, she hadn’t heard a peep from Bakugou’s room. Which meant he just hadn’t had the time, or he’d been serious when he promised to—
“Sure thing, Angel-Face. I’ll keep the moaning to a minimum.”
Uraraka prickled at her body’s immediate reaction to blush and made her way to the locker room to change.
To her surprise, Bakugou was waiting in the lobby when she finally emerged, his hair still wet from the shower. Uraraka walked over to him and quirked an eyebrow. He didn’t usually wait. She’d given him a key to her apartment for that exact reason.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze before she could say a word.
“C’mon,” He nodded toward the doors, “Let’s go unwind.” Bakugou started towards the exit before she could accept or reject his proposal.
Uraraka eyed him suspiciously but followed him regardless, “Are we going somewhere?”
He looked back at her with a smirk, “We’re gonna go get fucked up.”
Uraraka was not old enough to drink. She was still two months away for that particular pastime to be legal. But Bakugou ignored her protests and kept walking down the street anyway. He just kept hissing at her to shut up. Her anxiety was reaching its peak until he stopped outside of a convenience store, told her to wait, and then emerged with two large bags of what she could only assume was beer.
She wasn’t exactly comfortable with the idea of “getting fucked up”, as he’d so eloquently put it but, she was admittedly curious about the alcohol. And the idea of unwinding after their extended work week did sound nice. However… after learning how Bakugou typically spent his nights after work, she was a little less eager. Especially after the weird moment-not-moment they’d shared.
When the two of them reached Uraraka’s apartment, she stood in the middle of the living room deep in thought. The internal dilemma war raged in her mind—go to bed or have a drink with her unruly roommate? There were certainly pros and cons to either decision and unfortunately, she didn’t have time to sit down and scribble out a list because Bakugou was glowering at her, obviously put off by the awkwardness she was exuding.
“You just gonna stand there like a fucking weirdo or sit down?”
“I’ll…” Uraraka hesitated. She needed at least a little bit of time to think it over, “I’ll get you a glass.” And then she hurried to the kitchen to weigh her options.
Pros: unwinding sounded like a gift straight from the heavens, she was curious about the alcohol, it sounded like it could be fun, and it felt too early to go to bed despite her exhaustion. Plus, Bakugou didn’t usually initiate plans, even plans as simple as this.
Cons: she was technically not allowed to drink alcohol yet; it felt weird to patrol the streets as a hero upholding the law just to break it behind closed doors. More importantly though, Bakugou obviously didn’t have much preference when it came to selecting his sexual partners, and she wasn’t about to let herself get swept away in his unexpected allure. He had never expressed any sort of interest in her that way—it was always Round-Face, idiot, or weirdo—but she was a little wary after living with him.
With a sigh, Uraraka grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and joined him on the couch.
Bakugou filled her cup with the amber liquid before filling his own and sunk back into the couch, taking a long drink and downing half of it before looking back at her.
“The pros and the cops are looking into that insignia,” He began, scowling at the memory, “So hopefully by the time we go back to work we’ll have some answers about those assholes.”
He was acting refreshingly normal… That was a good sign, right?
“Then we’ll go find whoever their fucking ring-leader is and beat the shit out of him!”
Uraraka chuckled, finally feeling her body relax, and grabbed her glass from the table. “Oh sure, let’s take down the whole villain syndicate while we’re at it,” She shook her head and felt a smile lift her cheeks, “Rid the world of crime in a day!”
Bakugou rolled his eyes but grinned anyway, “We will,” He said with a shrug, as if that was a given, “Now drink that, I didn’t buy all this for me.”
She pursed her lips and studied the drink, giving it an experimental sniff. It smelled bitter, she couldn’t even imagine how it tasted. Uraraka gave him a skeptical look, “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this.”
He groaned and sat up straighter, turning his body to face her, “It’s not supposed to taste good, Round-Face, it’s supposed to get you fucked up.” He held his glass out towards her and waited.
Uraraka sighed and clinked their glasses together. He waited until she lifted it to her lips and took a sip before downing the remainder of his own. She was right. It was bitter. Usually she preferred sweet things, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting; there was a floral taste that offset the acidity. She could definitely drink it, and she felt a little giddy at the idea now that she’d taken the first step. Uraraka took a bigger gulp and ignored the sarcastic shock that plastered her roommates face.
“See?” He chided, refilling his cup.
“Fine, fine,” She gave in, “It’s not that bad.”
It didn’t take long for Uraraka to get through her first and second glass, reminiscing with Bakugou all the while. They talked about battles and villains, criticizing and praising each other’s techniques from past missions and patrols. Making fun of each other’s hero outfits or the faces they made when they were fighting. It was fun and light and Uraraka wasn’t sure if the two of them had ever interacted this way prior to this night, but she was certain that she’d never heard him laugh, really laugh, this much. Usually Bakugou expressed himself through maniacal laughter that made him sound like a lunatic, not that it wasn’t endearing in its own weird way, but the change in character was nice and she felt truly at ease. She’d called Bakugou her friend for the past few months because they made a great hero team, but this interaction made her really feel like they were friends.
“Geez, Bakugou,” She said, raising her third cup to her lips, “How many is that now?”
“Don’t be a killjoy,” He grumbled, filling yet another glass. Several empty bottles littered the table already. From the redness that had settled on his cheeks, Uraraka guessed he’d lost count. “It’s been a long fucking week.”
Uraraka nodded, blinking away her lightheadedness, and grinning to herself. Her exhaustion had evaporated, her cheeks felt warm. Everything made her want to laugh. This was fun, Bakugou was fun, and a part of her hoped that the beer would never run out because she was enjoying herself more in this moment than she had in months. Plus, the drinks tasted a lot better than they had an hour ago. Was this tipsy? She didn’t really know but… Whatever it was felt great, and she smiled wider, “At least we have two days off,” she mused, “I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow!”
Bakugou looked back at her and snickered after studying her face for a second, “You’re a fucking lightweight, Uraraka.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and tried her best to chug the remainder of her beer before setting the empty glass on the table, “What did you expect, dummy? I’ve never even had beer before!”
“You’re welcome, law-breaker.” His grin was genuine. It made her feel even lighter.
Uraraka rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t find it in her to even pretend to be annoyed. She hadn’t had a lot of time to see her friends over the past few months, so this impromptu hangout session was a relief and a joy, “Make fun of me all you want, but I do honestly want to thank you. This is great, you know? Unwinding. Relaxing. Not having to be Uravity for a few hours.” She sank down on the couch reveling in how much her cheeks hurt from smiling, and nodded to herself “Mm-hmm, It’s really nice… Thanks, Bakugou.”
He was quiet for a moment as he stared back at her with a flushed face, “Sure thing, weirdo,” His voice was softer than before, “We’ll have to do it more often, then.”
Uraraka raised an eyebrow, faintly aware of the redness that had spread to his ears, “Yeah, maybe if you find the time between all those girlfriends,” She laughed, trying to push away the sudden awkwardness she felt. His invitation had sounded soft and genuine, like he really, truly enjoyed being in her company. Her sarcastic response was defensive, she knew that, but he’d tugged on her heartstrings the tiniest bit and she didn’t know what to do with that feeling.
Bakugou didn’t respond immediately, instead turning his attention back to his beer, chugging the full glass in a few gulps. “I told you the other day, didn’t I?” He growled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “They’re not girlfriends—”
Uraraka scoffed and raised her hands in surrender before leaning forward to refill her drink, “I remember, I remember. Jumpoffs, right?”
He narrowed his eyes, “Right.”
“Don’t sound so defensive,” She teased, pouring the last of the open bottle into her cup. She felt herself ruining everything, and she hated herself for it, but she couldn’t stop herself. What was she supposed to say when he looked at her like that? What was she supposed to say when Bakugou looked like this was exactly where he wanted to be? When she felt like this was where he was supposed to be? She didn’t like the churning emotions she felt rising in her chest when she thought about her new roommate. It was awkward and stupid, and she recognized them, so the only option was to ruin it because she didn’t want those feelings. Not right now and not for him.
Bakugou grabbed the last beer from the bag on the floor and twisted it open with his hand. She could feel the annoyance radiating off him as he took a swig, forgoing the glass this time around, and she scowled to herself for bringing it up. She had been trying to make light of it to make herself feel better, but she’d managed to piss him off so quickly despite their good mood. It tugged at the irritation she’d been feeling since he’d moved into her spare room.
“What’s up with that, anyway?” She asked, not bothering to mask her tone.
“What’s it to you?” Bakugou asked through narrowed eyes. His voice was sharp, daring her to push her luck.
The effects of the alcohol convinced Uraraka to ignore his unspoken warning and she shrugged, “Don’t people like dating? I mean, if you’re spending so much time with those girls, you must like them, right? Why not just pick one and date them?”
“Because I don’t want to.” The response was quick and venomous, like she was dumber than a bag of rocks for asking.
Uraraka took a sip, ignoring him, and stared into her bubbly beverage as she spoke, “Hero work is busy, I know, but—”
“I could ask you the same fucking question, couldn’t I?” He hissed, face contorting into an accusatory glare, “You keep going on about girlfriends and dating but you don’t have a fucking clue, right? Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand.”
“I-it’s not the same, and you know it!” She huffed, shooting him a glare to match his own.
“Oh, I get it, Round-Face,” He laughed once, the sarcasm heavy in his tone, “You keep bringing this shit up, over and over again, because you’re jealous. Here’s the real fucking question, though—are you jealous because you’re a sheltered goody-goody who can’t get laid? Or is it because you can’t handle hearing me getting fucked on the other side of your wall?” Bakugou gave her a malicious grin after taking another long chug of his beer.
Uraraka could only stare at him in shock at the implications both of his questions posed. She felt a furious embarrassment heat up her cheeks. This conversation had gone south so quickly; she couldn’t even begin to find the words to deny him. All she could muster was, “It’s about me getting sleep, you psycho!”
He laughed again, “I don’t fucking buy it, Uraraka. Whether I’m dating any of them wouldn’t change shit and you know it, I’m not an idiot. So, c’mon. Level with me, partner.”
She could hear the alcohol in his voice. She could see it on his face. She wondered if that’s what she looked like right now, too… He was right, of course. Unfortunately, he usually was, despite his angry, explosive personality. Bakugou wasn’t easy to fool, although she hadn’t really put together the fact that she was trying to fool him until he spoke the words out loud. Whether he was dating any one of the girls she’d heard him with it wouldn’t change the outcome. Or the volume of his endeavors. She knew that. So… was she jealous? Her and Bakugou had spent the past several months together almost 24/7, they’d become friends to a certain extent, she saw him more than any of her friends from school. But did her prolonged exposure to him really equate to what he was implying? Honestly, she didn’t know. She couldn’t outright admit she had feelings for him, even in her drunken state, but she couldn’t exactly deny them either.
“I-I don’t know what you want from me, Bakugou,” She finally sighed, barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth next, “I think I… am jealous. To an extent. Not because I want to… sleep with you, or whatever. Don’t misunderstand me, okay? I don’t like hearing you with other people, I know that for sure but… I don’t really know why, though…” The words kept flowing out like a dam had broken and she continued, blissfully unaware of the utter shock that painted his face, “I respect you and admire you even when you make me unbearably angry, but you’re my partner and my friend… I know that you’re more important to me than I ever thought you’d be… But I don’t really have an answer to your weird questions. So, can we just move on, please? I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place, I didn’t mean to start an argument…”
Only silence followed her honest proclamation. After several awkwardly quiet moments, the realization of her words, of her confession, finally dawned on her. Oh god. That’s what it was wasn’t it? A confession! It sure as hell sounded like one.
Uraraka stared straight ahead, unblinking, unable to turn her head to look at him. That’s not what she meant to say… at least not quite so honestly. Not all at once. Not right now. Maybe she liked Bakugou more than she thought she did… the alcohol had definitely weakened her filter but could it really make her say a bunch of stuff she didn’t mean?
For the first time in her life, Uraraka wished she could actually die from embarrassment. If she was dead, she wouldn’t have to deal with the ramifications of her words.
Kill me, please.
Uraraka stole a quick glance at her roommate as he set the last empty beer bottle on the table and looked away just as fast as he turned his whole body to face her. She winced in preparation for the verbal assault he was sure to throw her way but his voice that broke the silence was quieter than she’d been expecting.
“Fucking christ… you can’t just say shit like that, Uraraka.”
“Um, I-I don’t think I… said exactly what I meant…” She stammered hopelessly. It was too late to backtrack. She knew that. The problem here wasn’t really what she said—it was that dangerous tone in his voice and the heat of her body’s response to it. This was… the effects of the alcohol, right? Making her say crazy stuff, making her remember the images her imagination had conjured up when she’d heard him having sex on the other side of her bedroom wall? Making her remember their cries, the way they called for him… Making her wonder what it might be like if she was the one crying for him—would he kiss her like he’d kissed Reika in the doorway? She swallowed hard, Uraraka had no romantic interest in Bakugou. Or at least she thought she hadn’t, until her inner monologue jumped out of her mouth just a moment ago, “I probably shouldn’t, uh… have alcohol anymore, huh?” She tried to cover the heaviness that had filled the room with a self-deprecating laugh, but she’d turned her gaze back to Bakugou in the same instant.
If she’d ever really, truly made a mistake in her adult life, it was meeting those crimson eyes in that moment. They were unmistakably, irrefutably hungry under his heavy lids and knitted brows. Her breath caught in her throat—it was the same look from the other night, if he’d turned the dial all the way up and ripped it the hell off. She felt truly small under that gaze, pinned down like some wounded prey preparing for their tragic demise at the claws of their most dangerous predator.
All Uraraka could do was stare back at him, wondering why the metaphor had her so excited.
Her voice was gone. Her limbs were frozen. Her head was spinning—although she couldn’t be sure if that was the alcohol’s doing or Bakugou’s. Every part of her was on fire from some mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.
“Ah, fuck—"
Suddenly, as if by magic, Uraraka found herself flat on her back, pressed into the couch, her new roommate hovering over her with his hands on either side of her head. An alarm sounded in her mind, warning her of the implications of whatever was about to happen. Warning her that she’d been drinking—that she wasn’t in the right state of mind to make this choice. Warning her that if things went to where she thought they might, where she wanted them to go, it would be her first. Her brain whipped question after question through her head as she stared up at Bakugou Katsuki; is this really what you want your first time to be? Is it really Bakugou you want to share it with? Do you want to ruin your partnership? What if you regret it?
But each question drifted away unanswered as quickly as they had emerged. Because her heart was pounding in her chest, and he was giving her that look, and even though there was a voice in the back of her brain that was yelling for her to snap out of it, to push him off and put an end to this, it was so fucking quiet. Wanting Bakugou overtook all her inhibitions.
“Bakugou…” It was the only word she could manage, and it came out in a voice that she barely recognized, a plea.
Then he kissed her—her first, she realized—and it was softer than she’d been expecting. The sensation but also just… Bakugou. She’d been expecting something urgent or overpowering. His gentleness caught her off guard, but it was exactly as she had envisioned her first kiss being. Aside from the fact that it was Ground Zero on the other end. Her imagination had never conjured that one up. Her eyes fluttered closed as he pulled back and Uraraka found herself craning her neck to find his lips again. When she caught them, she tried kissing him back the same way, and snaked her arms around his neck to pull him back down to her. And he let her, so she tried again, and again, until she felt a smile on his mouth.
Her entire face flushed—she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. It must have been so, so obvious… Uraraka knew that it was supposed to deepen, their mouths were supposed to open, there was supposed to be tongue, but… she didn’t know how to get to that point. She didn’t have the kind of confidence just going for it would require. It always looked so fluid or aggressive in movies, and she knew Bakugou could tell she was no good at it. Would he laugh at her? Or would he just stop? Were… those other girls good at it? Would he rather be kissing them?
So, she stopped. Because she was embarrassed. And jealous. And frustrated. She was an adult and she couldn’t even kiss someone properly—
But Bakugou didn’t laugh or pull away. Instead, he slid his hand into her hair at the nape of her neck, “Like this,” His words were just an exhale of breath right before he tilted his head and lifted her to meet his mouth and kiss her again.
Oh.
Uraraka felt like her imagination was sorely lacking. If this was how kissing could be, then the tender, tentative first kiss she’d fantasized about—and received—was practically chaste.
His lips parted on hers, like it was the most natural reaction in the world, like it was the only way to kiss someone, and she followed suit. Not because she tried, not this time, but because her body reacted to him like it had never reacted to anything before. Her nerves were ablaze, tingling with life, and it felt good, so she pulled on his neck, tightening her hold on him. She wanted him closer.
And then, maybe because he could feel her urgency, or because he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he pressed his weight onto her and slid his tongue through her teeth.
All at once, she felt him everywhere—his tongue in her mouth, demanding her reciprocation, tasting everything like he might never get the chance to ever again. His free hand traveling down her torso, over her breast, sliding down to grip at her exposed thigh and pull it around his waist. His thigh between her legs, pressing against her, sending hot shivers up her spine, like he wanted her to be aware of exactly what he was doing to her body. And then the stiffness in his jeans, grinding against her hip, pressing harder against her, like he needed her to know what she was doing to him.
Her head was spinning. It was like she could suddenly feel the rotation of the earth, scrambling her thoughts, threatening to rip her away from the world. So, she pushed her fingers into his hair and held on for dear life because he felt like the gravity she was missing, breathing life into her more and more with each second that they kissed. Even though her eyes were closed, somehow the room grew darker. Her lungs burned. But she kept kissing him, anyway. She kept drowning, not caring in the slightest that she was sinking deeper under the surface. She wanted to drown—
“Don’t forget to breathe, Angel-face…” Bakugou’s voice was practically a gasp as he broke away. Uraraka opened her eyes for the first time since everything began and then slowly, everything stilled as she caught her breath.
As she looked up at him, just a few inches away, lips swollen and parting with each shallow breath, she finally understood his appeal. Aside from his obviously attractive traits… this one, this face, the look he was giving her now, was probably the single most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. If he looked at everyone this way… like they were special, like they were the only one he’d ever look at like that, like they reminded him of the sky and the stars, like they were his whole world, like they were everything… it was no wonder he always had someone screaming his name on the other side of that wall.
If Uraraka hadn’t known better, that expression on his face might have been able to trick her into believing that this was… more.
But she did know better. Bakugou didn’t love her. That was okay—it wasn’t like she loved him either. She was just grateful that this was the expression he wore so that she could pretend this was special. Because she wanted it to be special, but… for some reason, she also wanted it to be Bakugou. And those things simply couldn’t equate to the same thing. But she didn’t care. She was caught in this current and she wanted, more than anything, to get swept away.
Bakugou placed a wet, languid kiss on the corner of her mouth and Uraraka couldn’t stop herself from gasping as his lips trailed to her jaw and down to her earlobe. She could hear the rasp in every one of his inhales, and she shivered, enough to elicit a throaty chuckle from her roommate. There was something about this she liked—the sensation was nice, but that wasn’t it. It was the sound of his breath so close to her ear. Because she could hear his need. And she wanted to hear more of it.
Uraraka had never considered herself a bold person but right now her confidence felt unshakable, so she loosened her grip on his neck and let her hands travel down his sides and under his shirt. She heard it again as her fingers grazed his waistband. Then again as she drug her hands over the muscles in his abdomen and around to his lower back. Uraraka wondered if it was normal to love the sounds he was making as she touched him, if it was normal to feel so powerful or turned on from something so irrelevant… Taking advantage of her boldness again, Uraraka pulled him at the waist and arched her hips to grind against him, unable to suppress the grin that lifted at her cheeks as he let out a low growl into her neck, as if he was trying to remind her that he was the predator here, not her.
The look in his eyes as he lifted his head was dangerous. Daring. So, she did it again. Because, apparently, she had some kind of death wish, and seeing the explosive man above her blush was grossly intoxicating.
“Uraraka, I—” his voice came out like a hiss, a warning through gritted teeth, but he cut himself off with another kiss, this one searing and desperate. In an instant, both of his hands were at her hips, lifting both of her legs around his waist and she felt an entirely new, mind-breaking feeling as he pressed himself between her legs. The friction sent a jolt up and outwards, and she didn’t even have a word for the sound that rose from her chest. She was only thankful it was muffled by his mouth because she couldn’t help but squeeze her legs tighter; she couldn’t help but revel in the hardness in his jeans, and she couldn’t stop herself from arching her back in time with his movements—
Christ, if it felt like this now, she couldn’t help but want to lose herself. And the two of them still had their pants on.
It was hard to focus on where he was; his hands kept gripping at her everywhere, desperately, like he had to take in every inch of her. Squeezing at her hips, her butt, practically bruising her waist as he traveled upward; palming her breasts through her shirt, tracing his fingers over her exposed collarbones and the lines of her neck; holding her face in his hands, tangling his fingers in her chestnut hair. He was exploring her like she might disappear at any moment.
“Please,” Uraraka gasped, breaking their kiss, barely recognizing her own voice, “Please, Bakugou…” It was only then that she realized she was pulling at his shirt, but it was stuck at his shoulders and he made no move to help her in removing it.
She wasn’t sure why, but her whole body was screaming. She just wanted him. In every sense, in all ways. Here. Now. She wanted to beg. She would beg. If that’s what it took.
But then he stopped kissing her. His hands froze on her face. His body stilled. When she opened her eyes to look at him, her heart sank—he looked mortified.
Bakugou spoke before she found her voice.
“Fuck,” He pressed his forehead against hers as he shook his head, furrowing his brow, “Fuck, Uraraka, I… I’m sorry.”
She froze. She’d done something wrong. She didn’t know what it was but that was the only explanation. She could feel the hurt tangling together in her chest, forming a knot she wasn’t sure would ever come untied. Shame burned her cheeks. Her eyes were stinging. She couldn’t tell if it was her that was trembling, or if it was his hands on her cheeks.
“W-what… did I do wrong?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. If he weren’t so close, she wasn’t sure if he would have been able to hear her. It was hard to hide the pain. Bakugou was perceptive. He’d hear it.
“You didn’t—" He shook his head again and finally pushed himself off her, retreating to the other side of the couch. He wasn’t looking at her now, “Fuck!”
The room was spinning again. She felt sick. Like she used to years ago, before she’d gained control of her quirk, “Sorry…” She breathed, as crushing realization began dawning on her. All the questions from before came flooding back. Slowly, she pushed herself upright and fought back the tears that were waiting to spill over the moment she was alone.
“No, Ochako!” He yelled it at the floor, not at her, but she couldn’t help but jump, “It’s not you, I just—this wasn’t what I—” Bakugou was looking at the beer bottles that littered the table, “Fuck…”
Uraraka stood, ignoring her weak knees and wobbled her way toward her bedroom.
“Fucking wait,” He groaned, finally turning to face her, to look at her.
This time Bakugou was wearing another expression that she’d never seen before… but she didn’t like this one.
“Look. You didn’t do anything wrong, alright? I just… I didn’t mean for this to happen—I shouldn’t have fucking done that…”
Uraraka reached for her doorknob. She just wanted him to stop talking. Every word out of his mouth felt like a stab with a jagged blade, “Right.” She said quietly, “It was a mistake.”
“That’s not what I meant, Ochako—”
She just wanted him to stop saying her name. The knife hurt enough without him twisting it in the wound. So she opened her door and stepped through the threshold, unable to meet his eyes.
“Goodnight, Bakugou.”