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It’s a Tuesday morning when the conversation first begins. Kirishima is hanging over a very irritated-looking Bakugou’s shoulder, Uraraka and Midoriya are chatting about their math homework while Todoroki and Iida listen absent-mindedly, and all the other students are in varying states of consciousness as they wait for Aizawa-sensei to arrive for homeroom.
“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling Sero as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?”
Sero hums half-heartedly, obviously occupied with his phone.
Kaminari, who’s been trailing behind them as he fiddles with his phone charger, isn’t really paying attention to the topic either.
“What are you talking about?” he asks curiously around the cord in his mouth. Ashido turns to give him a half-frustrated, half-fond look.
“People who can’t take compliments.” she tells him, grateful to finally have someone listen to her. Kaminari blinks.
“Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly. Ashido pauses.
“No-what ? No, not like him, what the hell? I said people who can’t take compliments, Bakugou is the complete opposite of that!”
Kaminari blinks, twirling the charger cord around his finger thoughtfully.
“But… he can’t take compliments.” he responds, bemused. “He turns all red and changes the topic suddenly. Is that not what we’re talking about?”
Ashido groans loudly.
“Are you hallucinating or something? The other day I brought up how strong his quirk is and he almost took my fucking eye out!”
Kaminari snorts, making Ashido smack him over the head sharply with a scowl. The blonde chews his lip, before his thoughtful look returns.
“I mean, yeah. But I was talking about when you compliment him for stuff that isn’t his quirk. Like, is complimenting someone’s quirk really a compliment? We were kinda just born with them.”
Ashido blinks, leaning back to consider the point.
“Whoa,” she breathes. “that’s deep.”
They’re silent for a long moment, before she shakes her head sharply, as if trying to rid herself of the thought.
“That doesn’t matter anyway! We compliment Bakugou on non-quirk related stuff all the time!” she insists. “He takes it fine! Like just last week during break, I told him-”
She freezes. During that English lesson, she had grumpily told Bakugou something along the lines of, ‘You’re lucky your quirk is so good, you don’t even have to worry about internships.’ Bakugou had given her an extremely dirty look in response, as well as an impressive string of curse words.
It was meant as a compliment, of course, but she soon realises that it does nothing to prove her point here.
“Never mind.” she says quickly. “But there was another time when… uh…”
Ashido trails off, wilting as it dawns on her that she can’t actually remember a time she complimented Bakugou in a way that didn’t involve his quirk somehow.
“Huh.” she mutters. Kaminari gives her a smug grin, and she pouts.
“But… he’s always so conceited when he gets validation.” she whines. “There’s no way he’s bad with compliments…”
The two of them trail off in silence as they unanimously turn to stare at the blonde in question, who’s currently wrestling Kirishima off his desk roughly.
“Maybe if you fuckin’ studied earlier you wouldn’t have to beg me for my answers!” Bakugou is spitting, shoving at the grinning redhead fruitlessly.
“Come on, man, this is the last time! I promise!” Kirishima pleads. “I won’t do it again!”
After a few more moments of grappling, Bakugou relents, handing over his notebook anyway as he grumbles the entire time.
“Aw, man!” Kirishima cheers. “You’re the best, Bakugou! So manly!”
Bakugou sputters, taking advantage of the other’s distraction to shove him off his desk.
“Shut up.” he growls finally, glaring at the floor like it’s personally wronged him. Kirishima, who’s busy copying the answers down hastily, doesn’t notice the tinge of red that Bakugou’s ears take on. But Ashido and Kaminari, who have been watching intently, very much do.
The two witnesses blink at the scene, and at Bakugou’s sudden quiet state, before they turn to stare at each other.
“So…” Kaminari says.
“So.” Ashido affirms.
They stare at each other assessingly, and just like that, a silent agreement is formed.
A few hours later, they’re sitting in history class and Midnight is in the middle of a lesson on the origin of the pro hero industry.
“Can anyone tell me when and where the first hero agency was established?” she calls. There’s rustling as the students all start to flip through their textbooks, obviously not knowing the answer.
“Anyone?” Midnight calls slightly impatiently. “You shouldn’t have to be cross-checking your books for this, your exams will not be open-book!”
Even poor Yaoyorozu and Iida look lost, their agitation clear on their faces.
Midnight’s eyes snap to Bakugou, who is the only student not frantically leafing through his textbook. Instead, he’s reclining in his chair and fiddling with his pen boredly.
“Bakugou-kun.” she says sweetly. “Since you’re the only one not violently searching through your book, I’ll assume you know the answer.”
The blonde leans back in his seat to squint at her. Finally, he grumbles out a flat, “2206, Australia.”
Midnight blinks at the answer, mouth closing and opening briefly. Finally, she frowns (although it looks more like a pout with the petulant twist to it).
“If you knew the answer, why didn’t you say anything?” she complains irritably. He simply stares at her, and she huffs, turning to stalk back to her podium.
Ashido sits up in her chair.
“Bakugou, you’re like, super smart.” she says lightly, with an unreadable glint to her eye. Said blonde turns to glare at her suspiciously.
“Got something to fucking say?” he snarls, and she swallows.
“No, I’m just… thinking that you must study hard. It’s super impressive.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and his lips curl in a way that suggests he’s about to blow up.
Oh, shit.
“You think you’re fucking funny?!” he snarls, pushing up from his seat menacingly. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re getting at, but I’ll fucking-”
“Dude, chill!” Kirishima yelps, grabbing the back of Bakugou’s shirt to bodily haul him back into his seat.
Ashido shrinks back, hands raising instinctively.
“I’m being serious!” she cries. “Stop yelling at me, I just thought it was cool!”
Bakugou pauses in his yelling to stare at her, studying her panicked expression intently. Then, so faintly that she swears she could have imagined it, a light pink blush appears on his cheeks.
“I’ll fucking kill you.” he grumbles, sinking back into his seat slowly and turning away from her.
She watches in utter awe as Bakugou’s ears slowly darken more and more until they’re an unmistakable crimson. She’s only prevented from seeing if his cheeks are the same shade by the hunch of his shoulders.
The class, who’ve been watching the entire exchange cautiously, seem to relax at the blonde’s retreat.
From her left, Ojiro turns back to give Ashido a baffled look that says something along the lines of, why the hell did you do that????. She shrugs, grinning sheepishly as Midnight begins to teach again.
“I swear, I swear I saw him blush!” Ashido is crying twenty minutes later when the lesson is over and they’re packing their bags. Bakugou has already stormed off to train as usual, while the rest of the class packs up slowly.
“I didn’t see anything.” Sero muses. Jirou, who’s been stuffing her pencils back into their case, perks up.
“Is this about what happened with Bakugou in class?” she asks curiously. Ashido nods, and Jirou grins.
“Yeah, he was blushing. I could see it super clearly.” she confirms, startling slightly at Ashido’s cry of victory.
“Why are you talking about it?” Uraraka asks from where she’s waiting for Midoriya to put his books away.
Ashido turns to her (and the other few students who are also curiously listening) and proceeds to explain her conversation with Kaminari from that morning.
“Well,” Midoriya says tentatively when she’s finished. “I’m not very surprised. From what I can remember, Kacchan isn’t really complimented on things that aren’t related to his quirk, so it’s to be expected that he doesn’t know how to respond to them.”
They all mull over his words for a moment, before Ashido opens her mouth again.
“That’s… that’s so sad, what the hell, Midoriya? Are you saying no one ever complimented him for other things?”
The green-haired boy shrugs in response.
“Kacchan’s quirk is quite flashy, so it makes sense.” he says off-handedly.
Ashido looks far less amused by the entire ordeal now.
“But what about… what about his grades? And he’s good at cooking, too! And he trains so hard!”
Midoriya sighs, leaning back to give Ashido a sad smile.
“How many times have you complimented Kacchan on any of those things, Ashido-san?” he asks wearily. She blinks.
None.
The answer is none.
Her guilt must show on her face, because Midoriya gives her a comforting pat on the shoulder.
“It’s okay.” he reassures her. “Everyone’s so used to him being good at things that it’s become somewhat of an expectation by now. It’s easier to just attribute all his skills to his quirk. Kacchan is used to it.”
With that, he hikes his bag up his shoulder and heads off, leaving Ashido open-mouthed.
“What-” she starts, staring at the doorway that he disappeared behind.
“Midoriya! That makes me feel even worse!”
The remaining number of students are left to mull over the somewhat depressing information they’ve been left with.
That evening, Bakugou is cooking in the communal kitchen when Uraraka halts at the entrance. She pauses, thinking back to the afternoon’s conversation, and suddenly feels very guilty.
She steels herself, approaching the counter bravely. The blonde’s knife pauses against the chopping board, and his eyes snap to her with a dangerous look that very clearly says, speak or get out.
She grins nervously, leaning forward to peer into the pot. The food, seemingly a stir fry, smells absolutely delicious.
“You’re very good at cooking.” she says. Bakugou glares at her.
“You’re not getting any of my damn food.” he growls, and Uraraka pouts.
“I’m not trying to, honest!” she cries sincerely. “I just think it’s admirable that you’re so good at cooking! It’s a rare skill to find in someone our age, so you must have worked hard at it!”
His expression jumps for a moment, as if he’s unsure how to feel, and a tell-tale blush begins to bloom across his cheeks quickly.
“Get out of my kitchen!” he snaps finally, and Uraraka darts back to her room obediently.
(An hour later, there’s a single sharp knock on her dorm door. When she opens it, there’s a bowl sitting in front of it, filled to the brim with steaming stir-fried noodles, and no one in sight. It’s the best meal Uraraka has eaten in weeks.)
Over the next week, word spreads of Ashido and Midoriya’s conversation.
“Jesus, man,” Ojiro huffs during one of their quirkless sparring sessions. “I can’t imagine how much you train to get this strong. You’re insane.”
Bakugou falters mid-punch, almost taking a hit to the stomach.
‘What the hell, Tails? You tryin’ to throw me off?” he snarls suspiciously.
Ojiro startles, shaking his head quickly.
“Nah, man.” he assures. “Just think it’s neat.”
Bakugou, very clearly flustered and unsure of what to say, punches Ojiro in the face out of pure instinct, making Kaminari cackle from where he’s watching.
“Sorry.” Bakugou mutters afterward, glaring at the ground as he scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly. Ojiro accepts the apology easily, more out of shock than anything else.
The next day, Yaoyorozu peers over his shoulder during their free study period, while passing his table to make a pot of tea.
“Bakugou-kun, your handwriting is absolutely gorgeous!” she gasps, stopping in her tracks, attracting the attention of Iida quickly. The taller boy steps over curiously to view the notes himself, eyes widening at the sight of them.
“Your notes are magnificently organised, Bakugou-kun!” Iida announces, looking blatantly impressed. “I would be very grateful if you could provide me some advice on your colour-coordination methods! Rest assured they will be effective, what with your consistently impressive academic results!”
Although these two are not in on the class’ resolution to compliment Bakugou at any opportunity possible, they do the job just as well nonetheless. The blonde turns a deep shade of crimson under their awed gazes, and he yanks his notes away hastily.
“Fuck off, damn nerds!” he hollers, hiking his shoulders up to his ears as he glares at the two weakly.
“Nerds…” Iida echoes. “But Bakugou-kun, you rank third in our class academically. You understand more than anyone the importance of maintaining effective study habits!”
If possible, Bakugou turns even redder at this declaration, and he glares up at Iida indignantly.
“You callin’ me a fucking nerd, Four-eyes?”
Iida blinks, tilting his head.
“No! W-well, I mean… Yes, if you really think about it.” the tall boy balks at the way Bakugou seems to puff up at the very words, eyes narrowing dangerously.
“But,” Iida powers on hastily, “isn’t it commendable? Diligence is a skill, and an individual as well-rounded as yourself has obviously honed it well! It is nothing to be ashamed of!”
Bakugou pauses, not quite sure whether he’s been complimented or insulted. He blinks, red spreading from his face down to his neck, and his meticulously-written notes go up in flames in his hand, earning a weak cry of protest from Yaoyorozu.
Finally, after a long moment in which he seems to go through all seven stages of grief, he pushes up from his chair sharply.
“Fuck you!” he announces, before storming off to his dorm room and leaving a very confused Yaoyorozu and Iida in his wake.
“His notes…” Yaoyorozu laments sadly, staring wistfully at the still-smoking remains Bakugou left behind.
He’s tutoring Ashido, Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero a few days later.
The four are sprawled over the desk in varying states of despair as he beats the content into them with a rolled up book.
“Man,” Sero sighs after finally grasping a particularly difficult concept, “you should be a teacher. I don’t know how, but things just make more sense the way you teach them, Bakugou.”
He’s staring at his workbook triumphantly as he says it, completely missing the way Bakugou falters at the words with quickly pinkening cheeks.
Ashido bites back the urge to coo at the sight, instead choosing to resolutely stare at her own book for fear of getting smacked over the head again. Kaminari, who’s been watching from beside her, leans in close with a slightly bewildered look.
“Now I get what you meant that day.” he whispers fearfully. “It is cute. I’m kind of terrified right now at the fact that I just found Bakugou endearing.”
Ashido pats Kaminari on the cheek gently, biting back a smug smile at his conflicted expression.
To their surprise, the next one to join in on the game is Aizawa-sensei. Of course, this happens completely unintentionally, but is just as effective nonetheless.
They’re training their ultimate moves, while Aizawa-sensei walks around and watches, occasionally offering advice or critique.
At the end of the session, he gives general feedback to the sweating, exhausted group.
“You did well overall.” he says seriously. “Some of you have strong attacks, but need to work on your reaction time to ensure that you’ll be able to use these attacks on the field. Take Bakugou, for example. His exceptional reaction time allows him to harness his ultimate moves with minimal prep time, while retaining the power behind his attacks.”
The entire class, accustomed by now to the sight that will follow Bakugou being complimented, all turn in unison to watch as the student in question ducks his head, frowning as his cheeks darken slightly under the praise.
“Of course,” Aizawa sensei continues, completely oblivious, “I’m not asking you all to be absolutely perfect. You’re still students. Bakugou’s reaction time is far more advanced than most pro heroes on the field, so it would be unrealistic to ask such a standard of all of you. But you’d do well to learn from him nonetheless.”
The blonde turns impossibly red, flush spreading down his neck and chest as he edges to hide behind Kirishima slightly.
“That’s adorable.” Ashido hears Uraraka sigh fondly, earning a few chuckles of agreement.
Aizawa-sensei, on the other hand, has finally caught wind of the class’ distraction.
“What are you all smiling at?” he snaps. “This is a class, not a free period. Pay attention.”
The students turn back to face him sheepishly.
The compliments continue through the next few weeks, growing in frequency as Bakugou slowly becomes less and less suspicious over each one. Despite his growing more familiar with the praise, his blushes never stop, much to his classmates’ delight.
Then, one day, he’s studying with Kirishima.
The redhead hands back his completed worksheet, chewing his lip anxiously as he waits for Bakugou to mark it.
The latter is silent, brow furrowed as he skims over the answers. Then, finally, he looks up to nod at Kirishima.
“29/40.” he says.
Kirishima sinks into his chair with a loud sigh of relief.
“Man, I passed.” he breathes. He cracks an eye open to see Bakugou’s unreadable expression, and shrinks back slightly.
“Still not good enough, though.” he adds sheepishly.
Bakugou doesn’t respond, glaring at the table intently as he frowns. Then, to Kirishima’s confusion, the blonde’s cheeks pinken.
“You…” Bakugou mutters, voice barely audible. He coughs, clearing his throat before he looks up to meet Kirishima’s gaze determinedly.
“You did well. It’s better than last week. Good… good job.”
Kirishima’s jaw drops.
“Bro…” he whispers.
Bakugou’s cheeks darken, and he averts his gaze, lips pursing.
“Don’t make it a big deal, Shitty-hair.” he says quickly. “Anyways, now d-are you crying ?”
“N-no!” Kirishima cries, hastily wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. “Why would I be crying?”
Bakugou glares at him, and Kirishima fruitlessly swipes away the fresh tears that stream down his face.
“Am I a joke to you?” the blonde deadpans.
Kirishima squeaks, ducking his head.
“Geez, Bakugou, you’re just so damn manly!” he cries, making Bakugou’s blush return with a passion.
“Shut up, Shitty-hair, I take it back!”
“No! ”
(After the news spreads, it becomes a competition between the students of class 1-A to see who else can receive a rare Bakugou compliment. Because, yeah, some people blush when they’re complimented. It’s cute, sure. But Bakugou is the only person to blush when giving compliments, too. And in their eyes, that’s a special type of endearing.)