Archive of Our Own ^beta

The feelings sneak up on him.

Because that’s all it is in the beginning: a disgusting mess of feelings that can only be identified as a crush, which Bakugou hates on principle because the idea of him having a crush on anyone is childish and stupid.

But it happens, nonetheless.

For the most part, he can ignore it, and he’s just fine with doing so. The feelings aren’t overwhelming. They don’t threaten to tear him apart or flood his every waking thought. He goes about his day like normal, and if his eyes stray and catch on purple hair every once in a while- that’s his own business. Nobody notices. Nobody cares. At the end of the day, a crush is meaningless, built off surface-level characteristics and simple “what-ifs” that look nice on paper but are shallow in depth.

He doesn’t even know the purple-haired fucker well. That’s the whole point. But Bakugou at least has to admit, out of everyone he interacts with on a daily basis, having Shinsou as a crush is one of the better possibilities.

They don’t cross paths that often, for one. Even with Shinsou having transferred into their class, Bakugou already has four extroverted leeches hanging off of him every day, and he’s not exactly looking to expand his social circle. From what he knows, Shinsou prefers to stick close to his own friend group, too. So that’s how it is. Their interactions remain limited to classwork and training, which means Bakugou’s crush stays superficial and rests quietly in the back of his mind, easily brushed aside for things actually worth his attention.

And even then, during the rare cases where they’re both forced to attend a class gathering or are at least in the same room for prolonged periods of time- Shinsou tends to stick in the background, not drawing much attention to himself. His presence is non-intrusive, and it’s only now and then that Bakugou even remembers he exists.

A pretty simple and convenient crush to deal with, all things considered.

But it’s still a mystery why Bakugou’s feelings even developed in the first place. Maybe they stemmed from a vague sense of respect- because hell, even Bakugou is a little impressed by the person who was hellbent on transferring into the hero course and actually made it happen- which only warped into subtle interest over time. Shinsou doesn’t bullshit people, and he doesn’t hold back, either. His sharp words and dry commentary are appealing in their own way, and Bakugou is just fine with appreciating it all from afar.

Or, he was. Until Kaminari motherfucking Denki, known idiot and local disaster, has to come and mess everything up.

For some strange reason, Kaminari becomes obsessed with the idea of befriending Shinsou, and with enough time, actually manages to accomplish this goal. How? Bakugou has no fucking clue. But it gets to the point where Kaminari is forcibly dragging the purple-haired fuck to their squad hangouts, and suddenly Shinsou isn’t something far away, something knowingly unattainable that Bakugou can think about with a healthy sort of detachment. He’s right there, looking apathetic, dead tired, and wholly disinterested in trying to join in on a conversation between four exuberant classmates.

Of course, Ashido, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari don’t care. They’re used to dealing with Bakugou. But he and Shinsou are not friendly with each other. Never have been. They work together when they’re forced to, and while it’s not like they actively hate each other, they’re both notably antisocial. They don’t mix well, which is why Bakugou had been just fine with having a crush on him from a distance. Unfortunately, that’s not really an option anymore.

The purple-haired fucker lurks around the edges of Bakugou’s life, just enough so that Bakugou can’t forget about him. He witnesses the other teen’s snark and sarcasm up close, has to look at his dark eyebags and admire the cozy sweatshirts he wears, can relate to the fact that Shinsou always seems like he’d rather be doing anything but listening to the small talk that a lot of their classmates tend to indulge in.

And then, it gets worse. Because Shinsou starts hanging around the squad enough that he and Bakugou are at least kind of acknowledging each other, and now Bakugou has to encounter Shinsou on a regular basis. They’re the ones who stick to the sidelines, the least talkative out of the group, but Shinsou will make a few comments every now and then- harmless jabs directed at Bakugou to purposefully piss him off. In return, Bakugou will snap back at him, as he tries his best to ignore the thrill that comes from interacting with someone who can both dish it out and take it.

That goddamn smirk of his, too. Infuriating as fuck, but it pulls Bakugou in, gets his blood pumping and eyes narrowed in a glare. Shinsou’s a bitch, yet Bakugou would much rather him be a bitch than be fake or waste his efforts in trying to be nice. Bakugou doesn’t want nice. If he did, he would’ve gotten a crush on someone like Kirishima months ago.

Plus, Bakugou has a suspicion that Shinsou appreciates being able to talk to someone who also generally dislikes people. They have too many… cheerful classmates- the type who preach friendship and are way too eager to interject themselves into other people’s lives. It’s suffocating and overbearing at its worst, and no doubt Shinsou feels the same way, otherwise he wouldn’t have formed his own friend group around people like Tokoyami, Shouji and Jirou.

Point is- there’s a mutual understanding here. Not one that’s ever acknowledged out loud, but that’s fine. Bakugou knows where he and his feelings stand when it comes to Shinsou, and just because the two of them are interacting more now doesn’t mean that things have to change.

Until more time passes, and Bakugou suddenly realizes that his “crush” on Shinsou has turned into him actually liking Shinsou.

As in, he actively looks forward to seeing him every day, and starts thinking about him even when the other teen isn’t around. It’s distracting, and Bakugou never signed up for this sappy shit- but his feelings don’t give a damn. No, his feelings want him to reach out and tug that stupid, fluffy hair- want him to face Shinsou in a training match, want him to experience the thrill of a good fight and get the heady rush of having Shinsou’s attention all on him, just for that short span of time.

Dangerous thoughts to have, since he has no fucking clue if the feelings are mutual.

One thing’s for sure, though: Bakugou isn’t a wimpy-ass bitch, so he’s not going to sit around and wait to find out.

Once he comes to the conclusion that he likes Shinsou, actually likes him, he decides then and there that he’s going to confront him. No point in hesitating. If, somehow, Shinsou likes him back, then whoop-de-fucking-doo. They can figure it out from there. If Bakugou gets rejected, at least it’s done with and he can start moving on with his life.

Fast, easy, and simple.

So that night, ten minutes before Bakugou usually gets into bed, he storms over to Shinsou’s door, ready to spit out the words. He doesn’t stop to think about how Shinsou will react, doesn’t agonize over it or back down- he already told himself that he’d do it, so he’s going to fucking do it.

He knocks forcefully on Shinsou’s door and stands there impatiently, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats.

After a full minute of him waiting in silence, Shinsou doesn’t answer. Bakugou rolls his eyes, because he knows the fucker is in there, trying to pretend he’s not just to get out of dealing with an unknown visitor.

“Oi! Open the door, fuckface!” Bakugou calls out, and it’s only now that he hears shifting and rustling from within the room, lazy footsteps treading across the floor.

The door opens, and Shinsou appears- his hair a mess and already dressed in pajamas, though he and Bakugou are both aware that the other teen won’t actually be going to sleep anytime soon.

“Well,” Shinsou drawls out, raising an eyebrow. “Look who it is. Isn’t it past your bedtime? What do you want?”

Bakugou bites back the automatic ‘fuck you’ and steels himself, glaring hard at the other teen.

“I’m here to fucking confess.”

Shinsou stares back at him with a bored, unblinking expression.

“Confess your sins, you mean?” Shinsou leans against the doorjamb, his arms crossing. “Did you finally snap and kill Midoriya? Can’t say I’m surprised. You’ll have to pay me if you want me to keep quiet about it, though-”

“What? No! I didn’t fucking kill Deku!” Bakugou interrupts, because what the hell? What kind of assumption is that?

But then he sees Shinsou's smirk, realizing a bit too late that the other teen was just messing with him, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath. He’s not going to get sidetracked here, as much as he really feels tempted to.

“I’m here to confess,” Bakugou repeats, scowling. “I like you. That’s it.”

The smirk disappears from Shinsou’s face.

“You what?”

God, is this fucker deaf or something? “I like you,” he grits out, annoyed that he has to drag this out any further. How many times does he need to say it? Once should be enough, dammit.

“You like me,” Shinsou says slowly. His expression is unreadable.

Bakugou scowls harder. “Yes,” he declares, since it seems like the other teen is looking for a verbal confirmation.

Shinsou hums, gaze turning half-lidded. His eyes rapidly trail over Bakugou's figure.

In one sudden motion, Shinsou shifts away from the doorframe. There’s not much space separating them now, but like hell is Bakugou going to act like a coward and back off to give him more room.

He resists the urge to fidget, waiting impatiently for Shinsou to give some kind of reaction- positive or negative- so that this stupid confession can be over with already.

“Prove it,” Shinsou says.

Now it’s Bakugou’s turn to stare at the other teen, uncomprehending.

“What?”

“Prove that you like me,” Shinsou explains nonchalantly, the edges of his mouth curling upwards. “I’m not convinced.”

“What the fuck do you mean, you’re not convinced?” Bakugou demands. “I just told you I like you! What’s so hard to understand about that?”

Shinsou, undeterred by his harsh tone, crowds further into Bakugou’s space. The two of them are barely a foot apart now. Bakugou simply tilts his head up in defiance, feeling that familiar exhilaration pounding through his veins as he faces the other teen head-on, refusing to be the one to yield first.

“I’m sure you can find a way to persuade me,” Shinsou mutters, voice low and full of intent. His gaze drops to Bakugou's mouth before meeting his eyes again.

Bakugou’s eyebrows draw down in confusion.

A way to persuade him?

Oh. Oh.

Shinsou doesn’t want words. He wants Bakugou to fucking do something. To prove that Bakugou likes him.

He just has to- what, give him affection? Act grossly romantic? He wouldn’t do that if he wasn’t serious, he supposes.

Fine. He can do that.

Scowling, Bakugou reaches out to grab Shinsou’s hand. He makes sure to hold it painfully tight- thumb digging into the meat of his palm as his fingers clamp around the outside.

It’s the thing they always do in the movies. Hand-holding. Fucking embarrassing, but whatever. It should be enough.

Shinsou blinks, drawing back slightly as he glances down at their now attached hands.

His expression is suspiciously blank.

He’s silent, too- which is enough for Bakugou to wonder if he’s somehow doing this wrong.

He can’t be, right?

Bakugou squints angrily at their hands.

Well, it does looks like Shinsou’s skin is turning a bit too white-

“You’re very bad at this,” Shinsou mildly notes.

“Shut the fuck up!” Bakugou’s head jerks up, squeezing the fucker’s hand even harder in retaliation. “Do you fucking believe me now?”

The other teen watches him carefully, something akin to mischievous amusement in his gaze, which immediately has Bakugou on the defensive because he doesn’t see anything funny about this situation. “Hmm, no. You’ll have to do better than that.”

Better? Better?

“Fine!” Bakugou yells, because of course it couldn’t be this easy. “I’ll make it so damn clear that even an idiotic, zombie-looking fuckass like you could understand, got it?!”

“Sure,” Shinsou agrees.

Declaration made, Bakugou releases Shinsou’s hand and pointedly stomps away towards his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Oh, it's fucking on.

Bakugou doesn’t like hand-holding; he considers it annoying and inconvenient because he fucking needs his hands to do almost everything. Eating, cooking, fighting, schoolwork, whatever- but he recognizes that sacrifices have to be made if he wants to put all his effort into this. Which he does. He’s not going to half-ass anything, even if he does think that his confession should have been enough to prove his feelings.

Guess Shinsou must be denser than he thought.

Ugh.

So, after that night, Bakugou goes out of his way to hold Shinsou’s hand. Whenever he catches sight of the purple-haired fuck, he’ll immediately storm over like he’s on a warpath, forcefully grab his hand, and just hold it. Sometimes for only a few seconds, just to show that Bakugou hasn’t forgotten his own promise, and sometimes for longer depending on the circumstances.

Infuriatingly, Shinsou never reacts much. The other teen may have been caught off-guard the first time Bakugou attempted it during the bright light of day- jolting in place when Bakugou came up behind him and seized his free hand with no warning- but now, it seems like he’s getting used to it. Doesn’t even say anything to acknowledge it half the time, either. Bakugou’s not sure if this is a good thing, but like hell is he going to stop now.

Needless to say, Bakugou’s efforts have risen quite a few questions among their class, since they’re all nosy as fuck and don’t know how to mind their own business. Bakugou also isn’t very subtle, not that he’s really trying to be- but it does take them a couple of days to notice, mostly because the hand-holding tends to happen when they’re not in class, as there are few opportunities to grab Shinsou’s hand during school hours.

The first incident occurs in the locker rooms. Not while they’re changing, obviously- because that would be both weird and way too complicated to even attempt- but after, when they’re already in their gym uniforms. Normally Bakugou would just head out when he’s done dressing, but Shinsou’s waiting for slow-ass Kaminari to finish up, so Bakugou reluctantly makes his way over to a nearby bench, sits, and snatches Shinsou’s hand between his own.

Shinsou doesn’t even blink, continuing on with his conversation like normal, but Bakugou hears the sound of Kaminari choking and the other stragglers behind him wheezing in surprise.

“What the-?” Kaminari blurts out. “B- Bakugou?!”

Bakugou ignores him.

“Did Bakugou just grab Shinsou’s hand?” he hears Sero whisper. “Or am I hallucinating?”

“No, I’m seeing the same thing-”

“Bakubro? Are you alright?” Kirishima asks, voice sounding bewildered and genuinely concerned. Like Bakugou’s been possessed or some shit.

“He’s fine,” Shinsou says dismissively. “He does this all the time.”

Bakugou can tell without looking that several people are staring at him incredulously.

“Uh, yeah, I think you’re wrong about that,” Kaminari pipes up, laughing nervously. “Should we get him to Recovery Girl?”

Kirishima suddenly pops into view, eyebrows drawn together, and he waves his hand in front of Bakugou’s face. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea-”

“Shut up, Shitty Hair. I don’t need to see the damn med hag,” Bakugou bites out, glaring.

“You’re not feeling off?” Kirishima checks, frowning even harder. “Are you sure, bro? You’re acting kind of funny.”

Shinsou snorts, stretching up from where he’d been leaning against his locker.

“I’m telling you, he’s fine,” he repeats. “You don’t need to worry.”

Sero, Kaminari, and Kirishima aren’t paying attention though, fluttering around Bakugou and muttering theories to each other, getting themselves increasingly worked up.

Bakugou rolls his eyes and stands, not missing the way the other three immediately tense, watching him carefully.

He clenches down on Shinsou’s hand, squeezing harshly, and starts yanking him towards the exit.

There’s the sound of scrambling and shuffling in the background, voiced protests coming from the three idiots, but Bakugou keeps walking. Passes right by Tokoyami, Ojiro and Shouji who are all staring at him shamelessly, as if they don’t have anything better to do.

When he gets out to the gym, the rest of their class is already waiting- no surprise there. A few glance over towards them when they enter, only to do an instant double-take, mouths gaping with shock. The rest turn around at the disturbance, and Bakugou watches their eyes go wide as he marches over, towing Shinsou along.

Aizawa takes one look at them- gaze immediately zeroing in on their clasped hands- and heaves an audible sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

Bakugou feels slightly offended by this.

“Blasty?” Ashido says hesitantly. Her eyes flicker down to their hands. “Are… are you holding Shinsou’s hand?”

Bakugou scowls.

“Obviously,” he bites out.

Ashido nods slowly.

“Uh. Okay. Can I ask why?”

“No.”

She peers over at Shinsou, but the purple fuck doesn’t say anything, face set into bored neutrality.

Thankfully, before Ashido can pry any further, their remaining classmates enter the gym, clustered together and whispering furiously amongst themselves. A couple of them look like they’re going to try to approach him, but Aizawa swiftly intervenes, telling them all to settle down- which is great because Bakugou didn’t want to have to deal with them anyway.

But even after that occasion, his classmates don’t fucking stop with all the questions. He sees them staring at him from time to time, and it only gets worse whenever they actually spot him holding Shinsou’s hand. The fact that it wasn’t a one-time thing seems to have exacerbated their confusion over the whole situation.

“Did you lose a bet?” Sero asks one day, squinting at Bakugou’s death grip on Shinsou as if he’s physically unable to look away from the sight.

“No,” Bakugou says.

“Was it a dare?”

“No.”

“Are you trying to pull a prank on everyone?”

“No!”

Kaminari is the next person to interrogate him, getting right up in his face and grabbing his shoulders. “Are you okay? Is someone making you do this?” He peers intensely into Bakugou’s eyes. “Blink twice if you need help- ow! Blasty, not the hair, not the hair-!”

And later-

“Why are you acting like this is normal?” Ashido exclaims, staring incredulously at Shinsou when the purple fuck doesn’t even bat an eye at Bakugou reaching across the kitchen island to grab him. “Shouldn’t you be freaking out?”

Shinsou simply shrugs, and Ashido throws her arms into the air, letting out a frustrated, wordless shout.

Too fucking bad. Bakugou doesn’t owe any of them an explanation, and Shinsou doesn’t seem like he cares about giving one either. This is between them, not anyone else.

The rest of their class are incapable of understanding that, though. Even some of their motherfucking teachers are starting to comment on it, and Bakugou is seventy-five percent sure he witnessed All Might trip over his own two feet when he walked by and saw them together. All because nobody here knows how to fucking butt out of things that don’t concern them.

A whole fucking week passes like this. Endless questions, endless looks, while Bakugou just waits for a sign from Shinsou that his feelings have gotten through to the other teen.

That doesn’t happen- but Shinsou does finally acknowledge the hand-holding.

Not in the way Bakugou was hoping, though.

“You'd think after a week you would have improved at this,” Shinsou says, though he sounds almost amused, fingers flexing desperately in Bakugou’s grip.

“Hah? What are you talking about?!” Bakugou demands.

The purple-haired teen raises their fused hands.

“You’re going to do permanent damage. I can feel my bones shifting.”

“This is how you’re supposed to do it! To make sure we don’t get separated!” he argues.

Shinsou snorts.

“I’m starting to think you’ve never held hands with someone before.”

“Of course I haven’t! Who the fuck else would I want to hold hands with?!”

Well, except for that brief period during Kamino with Kirishima. But that obviously doesn’t fucking count!

With that, Shinsou pauses and gives him a considering look. Bakugou continues to glare.

The other teen sighs, the sound coming out airy and light.

“If you’re going to hold my hand, can you at least do it in a way that doesn’t look awkward as fuck?” he finally asks.

Awkward?

“What the fuck do you mean, awkward?! I’m doing it normally!” Bakugou protests, baring his teeth.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I fucking am-!”

“Like this,” Shinsou interrupts, briefly detaching himself from Bakugou.

He then slides his hand deliberately slow against Bakugou’s palm, the drag of calloused skin against his own causing his back to straighten with awareness- until suddenly their fingers are interwoven, held loosely in his grip.

Their hands fall to their sides, swinging between them naturally, Shinsou squeezing once with steady, firm pressure. He doesn't try to pull Bakugou along or direct him, he just lets their hands rest there, nestled together.

Bakugou feels his face flush.

Okay, so maybe it does feel a little different from what they were doing before. Less of Bakugou cluelessly clutching onto him like a lifeline and more like…

Something couples would do.

Like hell is he going to admit that, though.

“Whatever,” Bakugou mutters eloquently, scowling as he looks away.

Shinsou snickers at his response but doesn't say anything else.

It takes a while for Bakugou to get used to it, to be careful with intertwining his hand with Shinsou's and to stop feeling uncomfortable with how conscious he is of the touch- but the downside of this is that it only seems to make their class stare at them more, for some stupid reason.

Holding hands this way is supposed to look less awkward, according to Shinsou, and it does feel… nice- so it doesn’t make sense why they’re getting even more attention now.

Uraraka’s eyes nearly burst from her skull when she happens to see Bakugou carefully slipping his hand into Shinsou’s, linking their fingers together. She doesn’t react when Bakugou scowls and flips her off with his other hand, too busy staring, mouth gaped open.

But that’s still not enough. The hand-holding is too simple.

The next time he sees Shinsou, he decides to try something different. It’s the perfect opportunity- the purple fuck is sitting on the couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he plays some weird cat game on his phone. Other than that, the common room is empty.

Bakugou heads over, and Shinsou glances up at him, already moving to free one of his hands when Bakugou throws himself down right next to him, shoving Shinsou further into the corner of the couch as he insistently makes space for himself.

“Hello,” Shinsou greets slowly, voice dry and eyebrows raised.

Bakugou grunts back in reply, adjusting until his side is pressed firmly against Shinsou’s. He then grabs one end of Shinsou's blanket and tugs at it until some of it falls over his shoulders, too.

“Everything okay?” the purple fuck checks, clearly entertained.

“Yes,” he mutters back. After a moment of hesitation, he sets his head down against Shinsou’s shoulder, accidentally headbutting the other teen a little bit in the process. Luckily, he doesn't comment on it. “Go back to your game.”

Shinsou hums noncommittally but returns to playing on his phone, pixelated cats soon filling up the screen.

It’s infuriating how he isn’t fazed by any of this, while Bakugou’s sitting here trying his hardest to convince the guy that he likes him by getting all up in his personal space. Bakugou doesn’t do this kind of shit. He’s not that type of person. Physical affection isn’t something he can really pull off, which is why his efforts haven’t been doing shit so far to prove his feelings.

But at least Shinsou’s not pulling away, hasn’t told him to fuck off. So he can't be doing too badly, right?

“Hey, fuckface,” Bakugou says eventually, to get Shinsou’s attention, neck cramped from the angle his head is laying at and restless after sitting on the couch doing nothing for the past ten minutes.

Shinsou makes a noise of acknowledgement, his eyes locked onto his phone as he continues to steadily tap away at his game.

“I like you,” Bakugou tries, the uncomfortable feeling of honesty and vulnerability eating away at his insides.

It’s one thing to storm up to Shinsou’s door and confess just to get it over with- but this feels more intimate, more sincere and sappy and god does Bakugou hate it.

But maybe- maybe this time it’ll work. Even if he feels exposed, too raw with his emotions, saying it again should at least be proof of something.

Shinsou pauses, fingers hovering over the phone screen, and then he turns to look at him. Bakugou quickly lifts his head so that their eyes can meet, but the other teen’s expression is indecipherable.

They spend a long time just staring at each other.

“I’m still not convinced,” Shinsou says, his gaze trained intensely on Bakugou’s face. There’s a weird tension in the air, one that makes it impossible for Bakugou to draw away, his breath stuck tightly in his chest. “So...I think you need to try something else.”

The words don’t leave him as upset as they should, all feelings of frustration and discomfort long forgotten as he watches the way Shinsou watches him. Like he's waiting for something.

Bakugou swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

What the fuck is going on?

“Fuck you,” Bakugou mutters, for lack of anything else to say. “You’re so fucking dense.”

That, for some reason, has Shinsou’s mouth curling upwards.

“Uh-huh. Sure. I’m the dense one.”

He’s not sure why it sounds like the purple-haired fucker doesn’t believe him, but at least the tension seems to have dissipated with his comment, the atmosphere between them settling back to normal.

Shinsou returns to his game, features relaxed and eyes lazily roving over the screen, and Bakugou sighs, the sound coming out much softer than he meant it to.

He pulls back and stands- feeling the urge to go do something productive- and barely makes it a few steps before Shinsou’s voice calls out to him:

“No goodbye kiss?” he asks.

It takes a second for the words to register.

Bakugou whips around, certain he must have misheard or fucking hallucinated, only to find Shinsou peering at him from over the edge of his phone, gaze half-lidded and a smirk on his face.

“What?” Bakugou demands.

Wordlessly, Shinsou tilts his head and taps his own cheek expectantly.

“You- you want me to kiss you? What the fuck? Why?!”

“I thought you were trying to prove something to me,” Shinsou drawls out, one eyebrow arched. “How are you going to do that if you can’t even give me a kiss?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t give you one, you shitty bastard!” Bakugou snaps, annoyed at the implication. “I’m asking why you want one in the first place!”

Shinsou shrugs.

“Why not? It's harmless.”

Bakugou feels like they’re missing a lot of steps here. From hand-holding to putting his head on Shinsou’s shoulder and now cheek kisses out of nowhere? This is not how he expected any of this “proving” bullshit to go.

“You’re fucking serious?” Bakugou checks, crossing his arms.

“Yep,” Shinsou casually replies.

Bakugou takes a second to mull over the decision, glaring at Shinsou suspiciously.

“Fine,” he grits out.

He stomps forward until he’s towering over the other teen, but Shinsou simply lifts his chin up to give him a better angle, watching him with steady focus.

Bakugou- resolutely ignoring the sudden pounding of his heart- leans down and presses a kiss against Shinsou’s cheek.

“Wait.” Shinsou grabs him by the wrist before he can fully pull away, staring intently at him. “That one doesn’t count.”

Immediately, Bakugou’s hackles are raised. Doesn’t count? What the fuck?

“How does that not count?” Bakugou asks, scowling. “I did what you asked!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t make the chu~ sound,” Shinsou explains. “So it doesn’t count.”

“The what?”

“You know.” Shinsou puckers his lips and makes a smooching noise. “Like that. Otherwise it’s not a kiss, you’re just putting your lips against my cheek.”

“That’s literally what a cheek kiss is?!”

“No. It’s weird when you do it silently.”

The sad thing is, Shinsou looks entirely sincere about this.

“Well, fuck you. I’m not doing it again.”

Shinsou heaves a sigh, releasing Bakugou’s wrist as he shifts away.

“It’s fine, I understand.” He side-eyes Bakugou, the edges of his mouth lifting upwards. “You just don’t want to admit that you can’t do it-”

Bakugou knows what Shinsou’s trying to do. He knows he’s being baited.

But that doesn’t stop him from reacting anyway.

With a growl of irritation, he pushes forward and plants his knees on either side of Shinsou’s legs, raising himself above the other teen until Shinsou is flush with the back of the couch.

His hand reaches to grip around Shinsou’s jaw, forcefully tilting his head back- but Shinsou doesn’t try to resist the movement, eyes blinking up at Bakugou and face suddenly lax with surprise.

Bakugou doesn’t pause. He slides his hand up to the back of Shinsou’s neck, grasping tightly onto purple strands of hair to keep him in place, and then goes in for another kiss- this time with the noise since it apparently matters so fucking much.

He misses slightly, his lips landing lower and dangerously close to Shinsou’s mouth, but he acts as if this was all planned when he finally pulls back, scowling down at a suspiciously silent Shinsou.

“There. Now you have nothing to complain about, asshole,” Bakugou snaps.

It seems to take Shinsou a few moments to gather his thoughts, his gaze refocusing and features smoothing out into a more natural expression

“Better than I expected,” Shinsou comments. “I give it an eight out of ten.”

Eight out of ten?!

“What?!” Bakugou snarls, his hand wrenching Shinsou’s head back. “That was a fucking ten out of ten kiss and you know it, fucker! Don’t bullshit me!”

Shinsou smirks up at him.

“Eh. It was alright.”

“You-” Bakugou leans down, his face inches away from Shinsou’s as he glares right into those annoying, unaffected eyes, “you’re a lying sack of shit.”

“No need to get so worked up. It just means you have to practice more,” Shinsou says nonchalantly.

Bakugou clenches his jaw, scowling hard at the other teen.

“Like fuck I do. It’s a goddamn cheek kiss, it’s not that difficult!”

“I mean,” Shinsou raises an eyebrow, “you did mess it up the first time…”

Bakugou tsks in annoyance, straightening up as his hand releases Shinsou’s hair, fingers accidentally scraping against the skin of his neck in the process. Shinsou shivers upon contact- though his expression doesn’t change- lips quirked upwards with sly amusement.

“Fine. Next time, I’m going to kiss you so hard it’ll make you fucking cry and beg for mercy,” Bakugou snaps, pulling himself up from the couch. “Then you’ll have no fucking reason to bitch about it anymore.”

“Such a romantic, Bakugou,” Shinsou coos, his eyes glinting. “I look forward to it.”

Bakugou scowls. This purple-haired fucker is so weird. Who the fuck responds with that?

“Whatever,” Bakugou mumbles under his breath, finally turning away from the other teen as reality quickly begins to catch up with him.

Did any of that really just happen? What the fuck.

Shaking his head, he moves to head up to his dorm-

Only to come to an immediate stop when he notices Kirishima, standing wide-eyed and frozen in the middle of the stairway entrance, gawking at Bakugou as if he doesn’t even recognize him.

Oh god fucking dammit. Of course Kirishima had to be right there.

How much did he see?!

Bakugou doesn’t want to know.

“Move, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou grumbles, forcefully pushing his way past because it doesn’t seem like Kirishima is going to be capable of moving anytime soon- ignoring the burning stare he feels against his back as he escapes up the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, Bakugou gets a visitor at his dorm room later that night.

As soon as he hears the knock, he slides off his bed, yanking the door open to greet Kirishima with a half-hearted glare. Before the idiot can say anything, Bakugou’s already moving aside to let him in. Better to get this over with.

The red-haired teen makes an immediate beeline towards his desk chair, and Bakugou just plops back onto his bed, leaning up against the headboard with a tired sigh.

Kirishima doesn’t waste any time getting into it.

“So,” the other teen starts, sitting backwards in his chair and staring at Bakugou from over his folded arms, “You and Shinsou?”

Bakugou instantly feels his mouth flatten, and Kirishima peers at him curiously, clearly trying to decipher his expression.

The other teen’s shock from earlier seems to have worn off completely now that enough time has passed. It was really only a matter of time before he came to question Bakugou, nosy but at least considerate enough to do it in private.

“How long have you guys been dating, bro?” Kirishima continues, his head cocked to the side.

Bakugou blinks.

“Dating?” he repeats loudly, incredulously. “Eyebags and I? We’re not fucking dating! What the hell?”

Now it’s Kirishima’s turn to blink at him.

“You’re not?”

“No! How the fuck did you even come to that conclusion?”

“I mean, I walked in on you giving him a very passionate kiss on the cheek, dude,” he says slowly. “I feel like that’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

Bakugou scowls, resisting the urge to cross his arms. “Well, we’re not. So get that idea out of your shitty head.”

“Alright, alright,” Kirishima says placatingly. “My bad. Were you guys just messing around, then? Flirting for the fun of it?”

“Wh- no!” As if Bakugou would ever be the fucking type to flirt for fucking fun! “He asked me to kiss him and so I did, that’s it!”

The confusion is back in Kirishima’s voice.

“He asked you to?”

“Yes!” Bakugou hisses.

“And you agreed?”

“Fucking obviously!”

“But you guys aren’t a thing?”

Frustrated by the reminder, Bakugou grabs one of his pillows and crushes it to his chest, hands roughly fisted in the soft material.

“No,” he grumbles petulantly. “I confessed but he didn’t believe me, so.”

Kirishima appears lost.

“Hold on.” The other teen shakes his head. “You confessed? Like, you have feelings for him?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Bakugou snaps.

“I- honestly bro, I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Kirishima says genuinely, eyebrows furrowed. “You confessed and then Shinsou asked you to kiss him but you aren’t actually together? I’m confused.”

Bakugou groans. “No. I told Eyebags that I liked him a while ago, but he didn’t fucking believe me.” He sighs harshly. “Said I needed to prove it to him, or something like that. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do.”

At that, Kirishima gets a weird look on his face.

“He said he didn’t believe you?” he repeats, a hesitancy to his tone.

“Yeah, I know,” Bakugou huffs, rolling his eyes. “He’s fucking stupid.”

Kirishima pauses there, squinting at him like he’s not quite sure what to make of that comment.

“Right…” He carefully nods his head. “Okay. Did he say anything else after you confessed?”

“Not really,” Bakugou mutters, shoving half his face into his pillow in an admittedly childish move. “I tried to hold his hand, he said I was shitty at it. Then I left.”

Realization passes over Kirishima’s features.

“Oh. That… that explains a lot, actually.”

Bakugou frowns. “Hah? What do you mean?”

“Never mind, it’s not important,” the other teen says hurriedly, changing the subject before Bakugou can grill him further. “But, just to be clear, he didn’t explicitly reject you?”

Bakugou’s shoulders tense up. “Why? Is that such a fucking shock to you?” he immediately bites out, defensive.

Kirishima’s eyes go wide as he shakes his head.

“No, dude! I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just- that’s a good sign, right?”

His sincerity has Bakugou relaxing slightly.

“It doesn’t matter," he says, decisive. "Can’t do anything until I've convinced him.”

Kirishima hums curiously in response.

“Then what are you going to do?” he asks. “‘Cause it seems like things are going well so far, you know. On both ends.” He sends him a pointed glance.

Well that’s a fucking hasty assumption to make.

“I don’t know what I'm going to do, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou mumbles, stomping down on the embarrassment that comes from being unsure of how to proceed.

It feels like admitting defeat- he’s so fucking clueless on how to show affection that he’s grasping for ways to prove himself.

Yeah, there are cheek kisses, but clearly they don’t hold much weight for Shinsou if he was able to ask for one like it was just another normal fucking Tuesday for him. Plus, Bakugou is supposed to be the one initiating things anyway!

“Have you tried asking him out?” Kirishima questions, “On a date or something?”

Bakugou furrows his eyebrows. “A date?”

“Yeah, you know. Hanging out just the two of you. Doing something fun together. That kind of stuff.”

Holy fuck.

“Shitty Hair, you’re a goddamn genius!” Bakugou declares gleefully, straightening up and grinning viciously at the other teen.

A date would be fucking perfect! Only people who are interested in someone would ask that person out on a date. It’s the best way to show he’s goddamn serious about this!

Kirishima eyes him. “Uh, thanks dude. I feel like that was a pretty obvious solution, though…”

Bakugou pretends not to hear that last part.

“Okay, I’ve got planning to do, Shitty Hair. Time for you to fuck off,” he announces, unfolding himself from the bed and moving to usher Kirishima out.

Kirishima doesn’t argue, his mouth shaping into a bright, almost relieved smile at his determination.

“Sure thing, bro! Glad I could help!”

The other teen is halfway out the door, hand poised in a cheerful wave when his expression seems to change slightly, like he’s debating on whether to say anything else.

“I wouldn’t stress too much over this, Bakugou,” he eventually says. “I’ve got a good feeling that things are going to work out! So don't overthink it! Just do what you think is best.” He gives him a dorky thumbs up for emphasis.

Tch. Typical Shitty Hair and his shitty optimism.

Now that Bakugou knows what to do, though, there’s no fucking time to waste.

He’s going to come up with the best date plan ever.

Here’s the thing:

The thought of having their first date in a public setting- where he has to deal with people and their general bullshit- just doesn’t sound appealing. The date is supposed to be about them, and he’d much rather have it in a place he feels comfortable, far away from the presence of any random extras.

Also, what do people even do on dates? Dinner and a movie? Bakugou can make his own dinner, so there’s no point in going to a restaurant or cafe. And he knows for a fact that Shinsou has pirated movies on his laptop, which means they'll have plenty of options to choose from- way more than if they went to a theater.

So not going out seems like the best decision.

With the planning out of the way, the only thing Bakugou has left to do is actually ask Shinsou to go on the date- which is the first thing he does, the very next day. But even that ends up being surprisingly simple. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Shinsou’s already saying yes, confirming that he’s free that night.

“So, where are you going to take me?” he then asks, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he gazes at Bakugou, head inquisitively tilted.

“Nowhere,” Bakugou says. “We’re doing it here.”

Shinsou carefully raises an eyebrow.

“In the dorms?” he says slowly.

“No, in the fucking teacher’s lounge.” Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Of course in the dorms, you dumbfuck. Where else would we do it?”

Shinsou stares at him a bit more, silent, until he suddenly snorts with amusement.

“I don’t know why I expected anything different,” he says dryly, one corner of his mouth curling up. “But I guess that works.”

Bakugou scowls. “Of course it does, I’m the one who fucking suggested it.”

And he leaves it at that.

Is asking someone out supposed to be this fucking easy? Bakugou doesn’t think so. Shinsou didn’t even give him a hard time about agreeing.

It has him feeling a bit on edge, not knowing what to expect.

When night falls, Bakugou goes trudging up to Shinsou’s room, holding two bowls of gyudon for their dinner. He kicks his foot against the door until the purple fuck finally lets him in, Bakugou immediately shoving one of the bowls in his hands when he’s past the threshold.

“Our date’s starting now,” he announces, making his way further inside.

Shinsou just goes with it.

They settle on the bed together, backs pressed against the wall as Bakugou takes it upon himself to pull Shinsou’s laptop over their outstretched legs.

“Pick something to watch,” Bakugou instructs, pausing to take a bite of his food.

“Anything?”

His tone has Bakugou giving him the side-eye. “Nothing weird.”

Shinsou snickers at that but thankfully turns his attention towards the laptop.

From there, their date seems to progress smoothly. Shinsou ends up picking some random action movie for them, one Bakugou’s never seen before but isn’t too shitty that it makes him want to keel over from boredom. He’s relaxed, Shinsou seems relaxed, which means he must be doing something right with all of this.

They’re about halfway through the film, having finished eating, when they decide to turn off the lights and bundle up in blankets to fight off the cold.

“Just don’t fall asleep,” Shinsou drawls out, hitting the light switch and bathing the room in darkness. “I know you struggle to stay awake any later than eight-”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not going to fall asleep!”

Fifteen minutes later, Bakugou falls asleep- like the weak fucker he is.

It’s not his fault. The room was dark, it was warm, he felt comfortable- why wouldn’t he fall asleep? In fact, he’s more insulted by the fact that Shinsou didn’t!

He’s not entirely sure how much time has passed when he finally wakes up- disoriented and fighting his way into consciousness. He blinks and tries to get his vision to adjust, noticing that his position has shifted in his sleep, now slumped over at an uncomfortable as fuck angle with his cheek smushed against Shinsou’s shoulder.

He pulls away, cursing quietly at the ache in his neck.

A quiet snort of amusement sounds from next to him, and Bakugou turns to see Shinsou staring at him, mouth curled up on one side. The laptop in front of them is still playing, though it’s not the same movie Bakugou fell asleep to, the volume turned down so low that he can hardly hear anything.

“Have a good rest?” Shinsou asks dryly- looking as wide awake as ever.

Bakugou struggles to chase away his sleepiness, feeling his face forming into a tired scowl. “Wha’ time ‘s it?” he demands, the words coming out more slurred and hoarse than he’d like.

“Two AM,” is Shinsou’s casual response, and Bakugou squints hard at him.

“The fuck?” he mutters, rubbing at one of his eyes. “Why are you still awake?”

“Well, one of us had to stay up and finish our date,” he mentions, looking entirely unbothered despite the complaint.

“Shut up, fucker. You should've slept.” Bakugou shimmies further down into the bed, unable to muster up the energy to get properly angry at the jibe. “We still have school in the morning.”

“Yeah, but I can just catch up on sleep during Cementoss’ class.”

Bakugou reaches out and yanks on a strand of Shinsou’s hair. “Don’t be a dumbass.”

Shinsou snickers lightly. “It’s just for one period.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou lets his hand fall away, fumbling with the laptop as he smashes random keys trying to find the pause button, finally succeeding after multiple attempts. He closes the lid, the light from the screen suddenly disappearing. Shinsou doesn’t protest.

He hasn’t tried to kick him out either, so Bakugou decides to take that as a sign that he’s fine with him staying.

The room is now much darker than before, and Bakugou can only see the vague shape of Shinsou’s form as he sighs and moves to place the laptop off the bed.

“I didn’t realize you were so eager to sleep with me, Bakugou. You should’ve said something sooner,” the purple-haired teen says, deadpan, but Bakugou can tell the fucker is smirking.

“Don't make it weird, shithead,” Bakugou mutters, shifting until he’s laying down fully and underneath the covers. He tries to track his gaze onto Shinsou, who seems to have gotten up now, headed over to the far side of the room.

There’s the sound of drawers opening, along with the rustling of fabric, as Shinsou gives his reply. “I’m not making it weird. Just stating a fact,” he notes, and Bakugou frowns, distracted by the noises.

It’s then that he realizes that Shinsou’s changing, the outline of his body moving as he pulls his clothes up over his head.

Despite not really being able to see him, Bakugou directs his gaze towards the ceiling, feeling his ears heat up.

He doesn’t know why. They change in front of each other in the locker room all the fucking time. It’s not like this is anything special.

Well. It is the first time Bakugou’s staying over for the night, which should probably feel like a bigger deal than it is. But he’s too fucking tired to give a shit about what it means. Maybe this is just what usually happens after a date, and he’s finally doing something right.

Not long after, Shinsou slips back onto the bed, his newly pajama-clad legs brushing against Bakugou’s. There’s not much space for both of them to lay here, their sides practically melded together, but no way in hell is Bakugou going to back off. This is his bed as much as Shinsou’s- at least for the night.

“So, are we going to cuddle or what?” he hears from beside him.

Bakugou blinks.

“The fuck?” he says, turning his head towards Shinsou. They’re close enough now that Bakugou can see his features clearly, purple eyes almost gleaming in the darkness.

“You don’t want to?” Shinsou asks, but the way he speaks makes it sound like a challenge, and Bakugou narrows his gaze.

“I didn’t say that.”

Not that Bakugou’s ever… ugh, cuddled with anyone before. But it can’t be that big of a deal- it’s just like hugging, except for a longer period of time, right?

“Okay, then-” Shinsou starts, but Bakugou’s already moving, decision made as he yanks at the other teen until Shinsou allows himself to be pulled over on his side, directly facing him. Without thinking too much about it, he constricts his arms tightly around Shinsou’s midsection and squeezes.

It’s nice enough, Bakugou admits. Not the best, but fine.

When he glances at Shinsou, he finds the other teen staring at him, eyebrow raised.

“Are you trying to crush my spine?” he inquires mildly, and Bakugou immediately scowls back in confusion.

“Hah?”

Shinsou clasps a hand around Bakugou’s arm. “You’re supposed to relax.”

“I am relaxed!”

The other teen huffs. “No, you’re not.”

“How am I not relaxed? I’m not even doing anything!”

“Your arms are tense,” Shinsou notes, gazing at him contemplatively. “You can't tell?”

Bakugou frowns. He is holding Shinsou pretty tightly, but he’d assumed that was normal. Anything with less force would feel too gentle, like he’s trying to treat Shinsou delicately- and Shinsou’s far from fucking delicate.

Now that it’s been pointed out to him though, he attempts to make the effort to relax his arms. He doesn’t think he’s that successful, based on the look Shinsou gives him- the one where he’s on the verge of laughter and he wants everyone to know it.

“Maybe you should try facing the other way instead,” Shinsou suggests.

“How the fuck’s that gonna work?”

“Here.” Shinsou carefully detangles them, and Bakugou begrudgingly flips himself over onto his other side, now staring at a blank wall. He hears Shinsou shifting slightly behind, pulling the blanket higher up over their bodies, and then Shinsou’s suddenly pressing against him, chest along his back.

An arm settles around his waist soon after, firm and with enough pressure to ground him.

Thankfully, their position seems much less intimate this way- maybe because they aren’t forced to stare directly at each other anymore. Whatever the reason, Bakugou can feel himself relaxing, fully sinking into the pillow underneath his head.

“Comfortable?” Shinsou asks, voice amused. Bakugou can’t drudge up the will to be annoyed, his exhaustion catching up with him as his eyes slip to half-mast. Fuck, he’s really not made to be up this late.

Bakugou makes a noise of agreement, his hand coming up to grab around Shinsou's. He feels Shinsou squeeze back.

"So, how was it?" Bakugou mutters, slightly muffled from where his face is shoved against the pillow. "The date?"

Shinsou's quiet for a few moments, to the point where Bakugou's starting to get a bad feeling, and then-

"It wasn't really a date," Shinsou answers.

...Not a date?

"What do you mean?" he asks slowly, eyebrows furrowed.

How was it not a date when Bakugou specifically asked him out on one?

“That was more like… a hangout. Us just chilling together.”

“Isn’t that the same fucking thing?”

Shinsou huffs out a small laugh.

“When someone asks you out, that typically constitutes actually going out somewhere.”

Oh. Bakugou scowls. “Well, I didn’t want random shitty extras getting in our way,” he says, verbalizing his earlier point. “Easier to have a date without other people around.”

“So you don’t expect to ever go out together, then?”

“Fucking eventually, sure. If it got to that point.”

On the whole, Bakugou doesn’t care what people think, and he knows Shinsou doesn’t either. A date between them is nobody else's business. But still- having their first date by themselves, casually, seemed to make a lot more sense than going out.

Though maybe he should have tried anyway. Maybe he should have taken it as an opportunity, a way to prove his feelings on a bigger scale. The idea of it is a little off-putting, since Bakugou doesn’t do gestures like that- doesn’t really want to be fucking affectionate in public or broadcast his private life to other people- but he could have at least attempted it.

“So it was bad then?” Bakugou asks, after a few moments of silence.

He hears Shinsou snort lightly.

“No. Not really.”

“Wh- you just said it wasn’t good enough to be a date! How is that not bad?”

“Because we still spent time together, dumbass. So it was fine.”

Bakugou pauses, his chest spasming weirdly as he tries to figure out how to feel about that.

“Plus, I got to see how ugly you look while you're sleeping. That’s a win in my book.”

Immediately, Bakugou starts retracting every good thought he’s ever had about this purple shithead. “Fuck you! It was a fucking accident, I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“Uh-huh.”

Bakugou fucking hates this guy.

“But, just so you know,” Shinsou continues, with a sort of sincerity that has Bakugou carefully focusing on his words, “We can do something like this anytime. Hang out. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

He considers this.

“Alright,” he mutters. “Then let’s fucking… go out on the weekend. So we can have a real date or whatever. Since it’s so important to you.”

Shinsou’s voice sounds a little strange when he replies, like he has that stupid, annoying grin on his face again. “Sure, a real date.” His arm tightens a little against Bakugou before releasing, soft strands of hair brushing along the back of Bakugou’s neck. “Sounds good to me.”

“Good. Now we can finally fucking sleep,” Bakugou grumbles, his eyes slipping shut.

Shinsou hums out something in agreement, the covers shifting as Bakugou feels him settle in for the night.

And Bakugou’s not used to falling asleep in the same bed as someone else- much less pressed against them like they’re trying to become fused into one person- but it’s not that bad, surprisingly. Not fucking bad at all.

Maybe that’s just because he’s tired as fuck, though. Maybe.

He drifts off with his hand still gripped around Shinsou’s, the warmth of the bed lulling him to sleep.

They end up going to a cafe for their date.

It’s basic shit, nothing crazy, but Bakugou knows Shinsou needs coffee to function. Most of the time he just guzzles it straight out of the pot- which is honestly a fucking horrifying thing to witness- so Bakugou figures going to a fancy place to indulge in more high-quality shit isn’t a bad idea.

The place is reasonably packed when they arrive, but they’re able to put in their drink orders fairly quickly. Bakugou has to slap money out of Shinsou’s hand when the other teen tries to pay, glaring at him for having the fucking audacity to think Bakugou wouldn’t be covering for them. He’s the one who asked the other out, so of course he’s fucking paying.

In response, Shinsou just smirks like he expected this reaction, and then proceeds to upsize his drink and order three different pastries because he clearly doesn’t give two shits about spending a lot of money as long as it’s not his own.

Fucking leech.

Soon enough, they sit down at a small high-table by the window, Shinsou drinking something that looks way too sweet and has an ungodly amount of whipped cream piled on top. He seems pleased enough by it though, even if Bakugou cringes at the taste when Shinsou offers him a sip. Bakugou doesn’t like coffee and probably never will, so he sticks with his hot tea and wrinkles his nose whenever Shinsou takes a long, pointed slurp of his drink, the other teen eyeing at him like he derives joy from Bakugou’s blatant disgust.

From there, the date seems to continue fine. The cafe is warm and not too loud, and most of the extras around them appear to be minding their own business.

Most of them.

It takes a while for Bakugou to notice, busy as he is trash talking with Shinsou, but during one of the lulls in their conversation, he happens to glance over Shinsou’s shoulder-

And spots a random girl at another table, looking at them.

She tries to be subtle about it, stealing glances while chatting with her friends, but after one too many times of them accidentally making direct contact, Bakugou knows this bitch is fucking watching them.

“Why the fuck is that extra staring at us?” he asks, scowling. This is exactly what he was trying to fucking avoid.

Shinsou raises his gaze, an inquisitive hum passing his lips as he takes a long drink from his coffee. When he sees that Bakugou’s attention is directed behind him, he turns to catch a glimpse, somehow managing to make the action look nonchalant before facing Bakugou once again.

His expression seems suspiciously amused.

“She’s not staring at us, she’s staring at you.”

“Okay, well why the fuck is she staring at me then? Is she trying to fight or something?” This time, Bakugou glares hard at the girl when she glances at him again, and she startles like she wasn’t expecting to get caught, her cheeks flushing as her friends all laugh around her.

Instead of looking away though, the girl doubles down, raises her chin, and sticks her goddamn tongue out at him like she’s trying to piss him off, her nose scrunched up playfully.

What the actual fuck?

“She’s checking you out, Bakugou.”

“Hah?!” Bakugou immediately directs his gaze back to Shinsou. The other teen is doing a poor job of hiding a lazy grin behind his cup, snickering at Bakugou’s reaction. “No the fuck she’s not!”

“You can’t blame her, really.” Shinsou shrugs.

Bakugou kicks Shinsou’s shin underneath the table, scrambling to come up with a response to that. “Shut the fuck up. She’s not checking me out.”

He looks over again, and the girl is still staring, smiling a little at him now. It’s clear she’s no longer embarrassed, having forgone all shame as she gives him a cheeky wave.

Ugh.

“Switch seats with me,” Bakugou demands.

Shinsou raises his eyebrows.

“You serious?” he asks.

“I don’t want to look at her fucking face or have her staring at mine!”

Shinsou snorts.

“Alright,” he says, far more agreeable than Bakugou expected him to be.

They swap seats, and Bakugou swears that when he's done situating himself, he spots Shinsou gazing at the girl behind his shoulder, mouth formed into a pitying smirk. But the expression disappears- wiped away from his face when Bakugou slaps his arm to get his attention. Shinsou’s eyes focus on him instead, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“Better?” he asks dryly.

Bakugou grumbles out a “yes”, his shoulders beginning to loosen up and relax. Now he just has Shinsou’s dumb face and a wall to look at, which is honestly much better in comparison.

They don’t stick around for long after that, deciding to head out and start making the trek back to UA. Barely more than an hour and a half has passed since they left campus, which is admittedly a short amount of time for a date, but Bakugou feels good. Like- just finished an amazingly difficult fight and now he gets to revel in his victory- kind of good.

Based on what Bakugou can tell, Shinsou seems satisfied enough too. Features smoothed out, completely at ease as he walks next to Bakugou, talking about some stupid shit Kaminari got up to the other day. Bakugou’s hardly listening, preoccupied with just looking and trying to squash that sappy feeling of contentment threatening to take him hostage.

There’s no fucking way a date is this easy, right?

No awkwardness, no lame small-talk, no dealing with random extras besides that one weird girl, but Shinsou seemed to take a strange sort of amusement out of that situation anyway so Bakugou can count that as a win, too.

The simplicity has him craving more, which is a risky thing to feel, especially since he doesn’t know how this will turn out for him.

But he’ll enjoy it for now.

Halfway back towards U.A., Bakugou reaches over to forcibly pull Shinsou’s hand out of his pocket, intertwining it with his own. Shinsou doesn’t pause with his story, but he does glance at Bakugou out of the corner of his eye, giving him a sly half-grin in acknowledgement.

Bakugou has to look away before the fucker accidentally sends him into cardiac arrest.

Unfortunately, the common room is occupied when he and Shinsou return from their date- which means dealing with fucking nosy-ass classmates again.

By this point, most of them have learned to keep to themselves, sticking with passing glances and small reactions whenever they spot Bakugou towing Shinsou along somewhere. But Kaminari and Ashido- who happen to be lounging on the couch together- do not fall into that category.

He feels their eyes on him as soon as he enters through the front door.

“Of course,” he hears Shinsou mutter beside him, no doubt having spotted the other two as well.

Bakugou would have preferred coming back to a quiet, peaceful environment for them to officially end their date. Would rather not have to deal with other people in the room at all, actually. But that’s fucking hard to achieve when they live in a shared space with eighteen other students.

He settles for ignoring Kaminari and Ashido’s burning presence for now, turning into Shinsou to give them both some illusion of privacy before they step any further into the room.

“Was it- the date wasn’t shitty this time, right?” he checks, glaring at Shinsou and trying to resist fidgeting.

He knows Shinsou’s a brutally honest person, which is why he’s immediately able to relax when the other teen says, “No, it wasn’t shitty. I had a good time.”

“Good,” Bakugou responds, gripping hard around Shinsou’s hand.

Then, before he can second-guess himself, he leans forward to press a kiss against Shinsou’s cheek- with the goddamn noise- ignoring the immediate sound of choking and the very loud, “what the fuck?” being screeched from the couch.

When Bakugou pulls away, he’s met with widened eyes, Shinsou staring at him in blatant surprise. He doesn’t know why the purple fuck is so shocked; it’s not like this is the first time Bakugou’s done this.

Plus, doing all that shit, on purpose, without trying to hide from others has to be a straightforward way of proving his feelings, right?

“Getting bolder, I see,” Shinsou drawls out, features relaxing as his mouth pulls up into a smile.

“Yeah, well.” Bakugou huffs, “It’s fucking necessary since you’re dumb as shit.”

“Yep,” the other teen dryly agrees, “That’s definitely what it is,” which has Bakugou staring at him suspiciously.

“Whatever, loser,” he eventually says, deciding to let the comment pass, “I’ll see you later?”

Shinsou smirks. “Sure. Have fun with the hyenas over there,” he notes, nodding his head towards the couch.

Bakugou glances over to the sight of Ashido and Kaminari both sitting up and unashamedly gawking at them, disbelief written all over their faces.

He bites back a sigh.

He really doesn’t want to deal with this right now.

So he doesn’t.

He sneers at them, flips them both off, and then stomps back towards his room, ignoring the sounds of scrambling footsteps and demands for answers as Ashido and Kaminari chase him up the stairs. He thinks he hears Shinsou laughing after him because he’s a fucking asshole, but Bakugou just locks himself in his room, putting on headphones to drown out the noise of the idiots banging on his door.

They go away eventually. But much like with Kirishima, they’re not willing to let it go.

Later that night, they manage to drag him to the common room for an emergency “Bakusquad meeting”, ambushing him when he tries to go make food for himself in the kitchen. Kirishima wrestles him onto the couch- having clearly been solicited for this very purpose- laughing good-naturedly as Bakugou cusses him out, exclaiming, “C’mon, Bakugou! You couldn’t avoid them forever!”

No, but he had been willing to fucking try.

They all take their seats, surrounding the couch and peering at him with wide grins and expectant stares. Sero must have been caught up to speed, because he’s giving him the same look as everyone else, eager to hear whatever he has to say.

Fuck all of them.

“So, Blasty,” Ashido starts, eyes glinting, “Care to explain what Kaminari and I saw earlier today?”

“You were on a date together, weren’t you?!” Kaminari declares triumphantly, before Bakugou has a chance to say anything. “You guys have been secretly dating this entire time!”

Sero snorts.

“Not much of a secret if they’ve been holding hands in front of us for the past couple of weeks. We’re just dumb.”

“Hey, this is Bakugou we’re talking about! It’s not our fault we assumed something else!”

“Oi, the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou demands, shoving at Kaminari’s shoulder with a socked foot.

“I mean, you don’t really do affection, bro,” the teen comments. “That’s why Mina and I were so surprised when you kissed Shinsou today!”

“Yeah! And Kirishima said you’ve done it before, too! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“Because it has nothing to do with you!” Bakugou barks out. “And we’re not even dating, you dumbfucks! We went on one date! That’s it!”

“Who asked who out?” Sero asks.

“The fuck do you think? I asked him!”

That immediately sets all four of them off, hollering and cheering while Kaminari excitedly shouts, “That’s our Blasty!”, as if asking someone out on a date is some big accomplishment that he deserves a motherfucking trophy for.

“This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in months,” Ashido exclaims. “Blasty, the first out of us all to get a date! Who would have guessed it?”

“I didn’t even know he was into Shinsou!” Kaminari blurts out, turning to Kirishima. “Did you? You must have, right?”

Kirishima shakes his head, grinning slightly. “He only told me when I caught him with Shinsou that first time.”

“Yeah, what was that about?” Ashido butts in, “What happened there? Who initiated?”

“Can we stop fucking talking about this?” Bakugou glares. “It isn’t that fucking interesting!”

“Yes, it is,” all of them chorus, peering at him with pleading, fervently curious expressions.

“Look, I’ve kissed him on the cheek twice! First time because he asked for it, second because it was after our date! It wasn’t a big deal!”

“He asked for it?” Sero repeats, sounding incredulous.

“Damn! Then you’re set, Blasty! He clearly likes you back!”

“Why haven’t you guys made it official yet?”

Bakugou bares his teeth. “Because I have to prove that I like him first, dipshits!”

Ashido, Sero, and Kaminari blink at him, their excitement swiftly exchanged for confusion.

“Isn’t that the point of asking him out on a date?” Sero asks.

He crosses his arms, annoyed that he has to go through this again like he did with Kirishima.

“I confessed to him a while ago, okay?” he admits reluctantly. “But he said I need to do more than that because he wasn’t convinced.”

Ashido furrows her brows.

“So he’s playing hard to get?”

“Or has unexpectedly high standards?” Sero suggests, shrugging and clearly at a loss.

Bakugou huffs.

“No, he’s just a fucking dumbass.”

Kirishima scrunches his face. “I think you’re overthinking it, bro.”

That catches Ashido’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” Kirishima directs an inquisitive gaze towards Bakugou. “Have you talked about it with Shinsou since the first time you confessed?” he asks.

“I told him I liked him! Multiple times! What else is there to say?” he bites out, defensive.

“Yeah, but it seems like you guys are on different pages of how this relationship is going,” Kirishima stresses, staring meaningfully at him. “I really think you should just ask him how he's feeling. Communication is key, you know!”

Bakugou frowns.

“Maybe he’s not convinced because you suck at it!” Kaminari pipes up.

Bakugou’s glare immediately snaps to the other teen, offended.

“Hah?!”

“No, no, hear me out!” The other teen raises his hands placatingly. “‘Cause like, no offense Bakugou, but a lot of the times when you’re holding his hand and stuff, you look like you’d rather be doing anything but that, you know? You’re all scowly! It’s confusing!”

“That’s just how I normally look!” Bakugou snaps.

He’s not exactly a pleasant fucking person, regardless of whether he’s around Shinsou.

“Yeah, but I mean, looking happier about it couldn’t hurt, right?”

Ashido pouts. “Aw, Blasty’s just being himself, Kami. He shouldn’t have to change that!”

“And I don’t even think Shinsou actually wants him to change,” Kirishima interjects.

“You could take him out on another date,” Sero offers.

Kaminari snaps his fingers, like he just came to a realization. “Or just flirt more! That’s an easy solution!”

Bakugou balks at the suggestion.

“I don’t fucking flirt, Pikachu! There’s no way in hell I’m doing that!”

The other teen’s face falls. “What? You don’t flirt? Bakugou, that’s like, basic relationship stuff 101!”

“I don’t give a fuck! I’m still not doing it!”

“Man.” Kaminari whistles low. “No wonder Shinsou’s not convinced then!”

Kirishima has to hold Bakugou back to stop him from launching himself at the other teen.

In the end, not much changes after their date.

They’re hanging out more frequently now, and he has to deal with the idiot brigade’s waggling eyebrows and wolf whistles whenever they spot him around Shinsou, but in terms of how the whole “proving his feelings” thing is going-

It’s not.

He keeps waiting for that realization and acknowledgment from Shinsou, but nothing. ever. happens.

Even when they’re curled on the couch together, or huddled up in Shinsou’s room, or Bakugou’s grabbing his hand in front of what feels like the whole school as they walk down the hallways, constantly greeting him with a "Hey dumbass, I like you-" because the situation is just that desperate-

It’s all very business as usual. Shinsou’s as unfazed as ever, like he sees no problem with any of it.

There’s no way he’s still this fucking oblivious, right? Bakugou should have proved his feelings ten times over by now!

And fuck- he’s getting impatient.

Bakugou’s not one to sit around and wait for results. When he’s pissed off, he confronts people head-on- which is something that’s definitely gotten him into trouble in the past, but at this point, he feels like there’s nothing else for him to do. Nothing that wouldn’t break the careful, wordless boundaries set between them- because quite frankly, there’s a lot that Bakugou wants to do, but isn’t willing to act on. Not when there’s so much uncertainty.

With Kirishima pressuring him to just talk with Shinsou too, as if that would solve all of their problems, he's starting to think it's his only option.

Maybe if he yells at Shinsou enough, the message will finally get through his thick skull.

So that’s what he decides to do.

He gets an eerie sense of deja vu as he walks up to Shinsou’s dorm room that night, tense but determined to put this all to rest.

He wants an answer. Either straight-up rejection or acceptance of his feelings. He’s not willing to fly in between the lines anymore, hesitating and wasting time wondering if he’ll ever actually get to be with him.

He kicks at Shinsou’s door, ready to take on the fucking world.

Shinsou opens up a few moments later, bulky wireless headphones stuffed over his head and a bored expression on his face, which loosens up when his eyes catch onto Bakugou.

“What’s up?” he asks, pushing his headphones down to his neck.

He looks so fucking casual and unassuming, standing there with no fucking care as if he hasn’t been putting Bakugou through hell these past weeks. What a fucking asshole.

“Listen here, you little fucker,” Bakugou starts off, which immediately has Shinsou raising his eyebrows- “I’m gonna confess to you one more fucking time, and you’re going to open up your fucking earholes and actually listen, ‘cause I’m not doing this proving shit anymore, okay? So you better fucking pay attention!”

Shinsou looks at him, really looks at him, his mouth twitching as he settles against the doorframe.

“Wow, you’re just jumping right into it, huh? Didn’t even say hello first.”

“No- shut the fuck up and take me seriously you shitty bastard!” Bakugou demands, pushing in close to Shinsou and glaring furiously at him. “Did you hear me? No more of this proving or convincing bullshit!”

“And why’s that?”

“Because! It’s fucking dumb!”

Shinsou tilts his head, the edges of a smirk beginning to form on his mouth. “Proving that you like me is fucking dumb?”

“Yes!” Bakugou yells, nearly at the point of tearing his hair out in frustration. “I just want to be with you, for fuck’s sake! Why do I have to prove that to anybody?! Why do I have to walk around acting as if the sun shines out of your ass and hold your hand like a fucking pre-schooler? I like you! That’s it! Fucking period! My words should be enough goddamn proof for you!”

“Okay,” Shinsou says simply.

“Okay?!”

“Yeah. You’ve convinced me.”

Bakugou feels all of his anger immediately dissipate, overtaken with confusion.

“Huh?”

“I believe you,” Shinsou repeats.

“What do you mean, you believe me?” Bakugou demands, defensive.

After everything he said- and that’s all he gets as a reply?

The other teen shrugs. “You said you like me. I believe you.”

Bakugou furrows his eyebrows.

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Bakugou pauses.

The hell?

He wasn’t actually expecting his words to change anything, much less barely after two seconds of starting the confrontation.

“Can I tell you something, though?” Shinsou continues, and Bakugou snaps his attention back to the other teen, wary.

“What is it?”

“I like you, too.”

At a complete fucking loss for words, Bakugou just stands there, staring at Shinsou like an idiot as the other teen raises an eyebrow expectantly at him, lips curled upwards.

“You realized that? Just now?!”

Shinsou snorts.

“No. I’ve liked you for ages, Bakugou.”

“Wh- you have?!”

“I mean, you’re hot. And you don’t take shit from other people. Is it really that surprising?”

“Shut up!” Bakugou resists the urge to look away, feeling heat rising to his face. “So what, this entire time you liked me but you weren’t convinced that I liked you back until right now? How the fuck does that work?!”

And here Shinsou shakes his head, looking close to breaking down in a fit of laughter.

“Seriously? How are you still this clueless?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Bakugou demands, getting the feeling that he’s being made fun of and not liking it at all.

“I believed you when you first confessed, dumbass. You made it pretty clear how you felt.”

What?

“Then- then why the fuck did you tell me I needed to convince you?!” he yells, bewildered.

Shinsou shrugs.

“I only said that because I wanted you to kiss me,” he admits, “But I guess you somehow misinterpreted that, even though I was giving you all the fucking signals you needed-”

Signals?! There were absolutely no fucking signals!

And more importantly- “In what universe do the words ‘prove it’ mean the same thing as ‘kiss me’?!”

“I don’t know, a universe where you understand subtext?”

“Fuck subtext! You weren’t being clear enough!” Bakugou seethes. “And why didn’t you fucking say anything afterwards, huh?! All of this could have been avoided!”

“Well, it was funnier this way.”

“For you! Not for me!”

“I like messing with you. And you’re really terrible at being romantic, by the way. It’s cute.”

“You’re a fucking asshole!”

Shinsou smirks at that.

“I know.”

Bakugou scowls, despising the smug expression on Shinsou’s face. He wants to punch it off.

This entire time, Bakugou thought he was waiting on Shinsou, trying to prove himself and his feelings- when it turns out he didn’t even need to in the first place!

“So what, you were just going to keep quiet about it until I fucking said something?” Bakugou demands.

“Well, I would have stopped eventually,” Shinsou replies, dismissive. “‘Cause, you know, I do actually want to date you.”

“You could have fucking gotten that on day one if you’d spoken up!” Bakugou sends him a pointed glare. “And not given me any of that ‘I’m not convinced' bullshit. How is that in any way better?”

“Eh. It was pretty worth it.”

Bakugou glares harder, narrowing his eyes.

This fucking bitch.

“Alright, I know, I need to pick up the slack,” Shinsou concedes, features softening as he reaches out, grabbing Bakugou’s hand and pulling him in closer. Bakugou allows himself to be towed forward, caught off-guard- not used to Shinsou being the one initiating touch between the two of them. “You’ve been doing all the work, huh?”

The reminder has Bakugou frowning at the other teen. He squeezes hard around Shinsou’s hand before letting go. “Yeah, you lazy fuck. If we’re gonna date, you have to give me your all. I fucking refuse to be the only one doing this sappy shit.”

“Okay. It’s a deal then,” Shinsou decides, giving him a genuine grin that Bakugou can’t help but fucking stare at, cursing his fucking feelings and this fucking idiot for turning him into such a sentimental loser.

Fuck it. Why should he care so much about the past two weeks anyway? This is more than he ever thought he would get from this situation, and like hell is he not going to make the most of it.

With determined hands, he grabs the headphones hanging around Shinsou’s neck and forcefully pulls them off, chucking them further into the room towards the vague direction of Shinsou’s bed.

Shinsou deadpans, half-turning as if to check on them, “Bakugou, if you broke those I swear to fuck-”

“Shut up and let me kiss you!”

For once, Shinsou actually shuts up, immediately swiveling his attention back to Bakugou.

And fuck, Bakugou doesn’t want to mess this up. Doesn’t want to be too rough or too aggressive accidentally, like he was with every act of affection he’s tried so far, so he’s careful when he reaches out, sliding a hand to the back of Shinsou’s neck.

He leans forward, and Shinsou’s already there- their lips lightly brushing against each other until suddenly they’re kissing for real, heads tilted at just the right position for them to meet.

His heart beats fast against his ribcage as Shinsou’s arm slides up against his lower back, feeling so fucking warm and overwhelmed, his mouth parting willingly- and shit, yup, okay that's Shinsou's tongue, what the fuck. He breaks away only for a second to adjust his angle before they're meeting back together- like they can’t fucking stand to be apart now that they know what this is like.

It takes them an embarrassingly long time to separate, Bakugou reluctantly pulling away because fuck, he just needs a goddamn minute to let his brain catch up and to maybe breathe a little.

Exchanging kisses in the middle of the goddamn dorm hallway is probably not the brightest idea either. Last thing Bakugou needs is Kirishima accidentally coming across them again when he’s only finally getting to kiss Shinsou.

Ah. Bakugou scowls faintly, hit with a realization. No wonder Kirishima was so insistent on them talking things out. He probably knew this entire time that Shinsou was messing with him, didn’t he? It seems so obvious in hindsight.

“What’s the frown for?” Shinsou asks, voice amused.

“Nothing,” he says dismissively, focusing back on the other teen. “Just… wondering how I could have missed something so fucking obvious.”

Shinsou snickers.

“Yeah, you’re a little slow. I said yes to a date with you and you still thought I was the dense one.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbles. “You’re a fucking dumbass, so of course I thought you were being dense.”

Shinsou looks at him, a smile pulling at his lips, but thankfully he shifts to a different subject.

“So, you planning on standing out in the hallway forever, or do you want to come inside?”

“Now?” Bakugou frowns. “It’s late.”

“I know. Come to bed,” he says, tone light and eyes glinting, without a doubt knowing how bad that sounds and saying it anyway just to be a dipshit. "I have some stuff to make up for, don't I?"

Bakugou stares at him, unimpressed, and then reaches up to flick him on the forehead.

“Ow,” Shinsou complains, deadpan, but Bakugou ignores him, pushing his way into the room as he beelines straight towards the bed.

Because really- he’s not going to say no to an offer like that, even if it was layered in with an innuendo. Shinsou’s got a comfy-ass bed.

He sighs when he feels Shinsou settle in behind him, biting down on a small grin that threatens to form on his face when their legs kick against each other under the covers. It’s gross and domestic, and Bakugou can’t fucking believe he actually managed to get here after weeks of worrying over something that was practically guaranteed.

But he can’t find it within himself to get pissed over it. Doesn't even try to. He got what he wanted, and this just confirms what he already knew- that Shinsou’s an annoying bitch, yet Bakugou has feelings for him anyway.

Nobody blinks twice at them the next day for walking into the classroom together, hand-in-hand. It's old news by now, even if they are sticking a bit closer to each other's sides than usual.

But their classmates sure as fuck get the shock of their lives during lunch period, wide eyes following them in disbelief when they witness Shinsou give Bakugou a short kiss before they part ways to eat with their respective groups.

Bakugou knows the bastard chose that exact moment to kiss him so he would have to deal with an entire lunch session of the idiot squad bombarding him with questions, unable to escape. He catches Shinsou smirking at him from across several tables and flips him off for it. The purple fuck merely blows him a kiss in response.

Fucker really isn’t holding back now.

It’s strange and new to be on the receiving end of such obnoxious affection, but Bakugou doesn’t hate it. He’ll just have to try harder.

He's going to date the fuck out of this guy.