Archive of Our Own

He had done it to himself, supposedly. He still didn’t quite see what the big deal was, but he couldn’t exactly argue—effectively, anyway—with his own mother when she was shouting at him with everything she had left.

“If you’re going to act like we don’t exist, then fine! We don’t exist!” 

Just what the fuck did that mean? He didn’t get the chance to ask because she promptly hung up the phone. Tch. Well that felt kind of childish. 

So what if he dodged every attempt at contact from both his mom and dad? It was to be expected, honestly. He was a teenager for crying out loud; granted he was 18 now, technically an adult, but the number still had “teen” in it for god's sake!

It was a flimsy excuse, to be really honest. It wasn’t like he avoided them the last couple of years at UA like he was doing now, so he couldn’t really blame it on his adolescent angst or whatever. He was more grown now than he was then. The real reason he was avoiding them was too stupid to acknowledge.

Bakugou had a crush. It wasn’t supposed to turn into anything. He just thought she was cool, cute, creative, powerful, thoughtful, kind, observant, hard working-

Okay, so there was no “just” about it. 

The bottom line was that he thought she was remarkable in more ways than he could fathom. He felt like a goddamn simp, but for some insane fucking reason he didn’t give a rats ass about that. Let him be a simp if it meant he could simply be near her. 

Dear lord.

Hiding his admiration from the class wasn’t necessarily difficult. He just generally avoided her and called it good. If someone brought her up, he just didn’t say anything. If she talked to him, he avoided eye contact and kept his responses short. Easy.

He knew, though, that he wouldn’t be able to hide it from his parents. His dad just knew him on some deep level that Bakugou would never understand, and his mom always knew when he was lying. With their powers together, he wouldn’t stand a chance. 

So he avoided them. It wasn’t the most mature thing to do, but cry him a river, he had better things to worry about. Until his mom made that cryptic ass comment. So just what the fuck had she meant?

He was pretty sure he had figured it out the very next day, when his card was declined at the convenience store. 

If his parents didn’t exist, then neither did their money. Fuck. 

He stood in front of their door feeling like a fucking jackass. Here he was visiting them for the first time in months and it was because he wanted money. And the whole reason he had been swerving them in the first place was because of his stupid emotions. Pathetic.

He opened the door, more carefully than he probably ever had, and shut it behind him. 

“Ma! Pa! I’m here!” There was silence for several seconds before an answer came. 

“Hi, Katsuki, just pretend we aren’t here and grab whatever you came for! No need to talk.” 

Okay, he deserved that, but it made his eye twitch nonetheless. 

“I didn’t come to grab anything,” he called, now following the direction his mom’s voice had come from. “I came to… you know.” 

“Do I know?” she asked just as she came into view. 

A deliberately quirked brow accessorized an unamused expression. She wasn’t even acting like she was overly enraged at all. But he knew from experience that this reaction meant he was really fucked. 

"Apologize," he finally choked out. "I was being a little shit."

"You sure were," she agreed. Her expression remained impassive. Was he supposed to say more? Goddamn it, he sucked at this bullshit. He was being genuine, but how was he supposed to seem genuine?

"How often do you want me to visit?" he asked, the question no more than a grumble. Mitsuki sighed. 

"Katsuki, I don't want to have to keep forcing you to do things. You're basically an adult. I want you to want to see us. I just don't know how to do that."

Mitsuki was not one to show vulnerability. It was a large part of why Bakugou was the same way; he learned from the best. But now? Now she looked small, almost helpless. She always knew what to say and how to execute pretty much anything she set her mind to, but not now.

He hated it, more than he thought he would.

"I do want to see you." She looked at him then, a tiny moment of softness in her eyes before they hardened. 

"Your actions beg to differ, ya brat," she said, a bit of her usual feisty energy coming back to her. 

"I know. I'm… sorry."

She was silent for a moment.

"Your dad said you're probably going through something," she said thoughtfully, glossing over the apology he had to beat out of himself. "And that it's something you don't want us to know about. You're not in trouble, are you? Don't bullshit me." 

He felt incredibly stupid for his actual reason, because he apparently had his mom thinking he was involved in something dangerous.

‘No mom, it’s not gang shit, it’s actually this beautiful round girl in my class.’ That would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen. 

“No, I swear I’m not in trouble. But…” He sighed loudly. “Dad is sort of right.”

She studied his face silently, something he wasn’t very used to. This conversation lacked all of the yelling he had become accustomed to with their interactions, and it set his nerves on fire.

“I’m not going to pretend I get it, but I’ll let it go for now. But that doesn’t mean I like being taken for granted.” She yanked open a drawer nearby and snatched up an envelope, which then came hurtling toward him. He caught it just before it could hit him square in the face.

“Live on that for a while, but you won’t get anything else.” 

She must have known he was coming and prepared this beforehand. He looked inside to find some cash and a few random gift cards, probably some she found lying around the place.

“Your cousin's birthday party is in three weeks. Come back then and we can settle this. I’ll probably stop being mad by then,” she said, then turned around to attend to whatever she had been doing. He was dismissed.

“Fine. Bye, Mom.”

When he was back in his dorm, he took stock of what she had given him for the next three weeks. 10,000 yen and four 2000 yen gift cards to random convenience stores and takeout joints.

Well, it was fucking better than nothing.

He still had some groceries he had bought before this whole fiasco, so he could at least make himself one more decent dinner before he had to start eating like shit. 

Bakugou trudged to the kitchen and hoped to god that there were no irritating extras around to ever further sour his mood.

Good, it was just Uraraka. Though his heart started pumping a little faster when his eyes landed on her, it would be easy enough to just ignore her like he always did. She was sitting at the small table nearest the kitchen by herself. That was odd, she was usually around tons of other annoying shits, even when she was studying. But since when did studying involve scissors?

“The fuck are you doing?” Bakugou found himself asking, and her shoulders jumped slightly as the scissors fell out of her hands.

“Oh, Bakugou-kun! You scared me, no one is usually around at this time.” In all of his sulking, he hadn’t realized how late it got. It was nearly 10 PM on a school night. Fuck. 

“I’m just clipping coupons,” she finished.

Oh. Coupons. He knew what they were, obviously, but he had never used one. But he probably should now that he was going to be poor for three weeks.

“Where do you get those?” he asked brusquely, crashing down into the chair next to hers.

“The coupons? Oh well most of the time I get them for grocery store ads. Sometimes you can even ask the cashiers if they have any. You can also get them online now, which is cool! But I’m pretty used to doing it the old fashioned way so, yeah…” 

She spoke a mile a minute and then seemed to realize herself, trailing off because she thought Bakugou didn’t care, he suspected. Tch, he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know.

“So what, you just google coupons?”

“Pretty much, or go directly to the store's website and find them there. Why?”

Her big doe eyes blinked at him in confusion. It wasn’t as though he was rich or flaunted wealth around like Ponytail and Icy Hot, but it was probably common knowledge that his family was fairly well off. Uraraka had thought it was “super cool” that his parents were fashion designers. For some stupid reason, his ears stayed red for a full ten minutes after that comment, but that was back when he hadn’t learned how to control himself around her.

“Trying to save money,” he said simply. It was as good an excuse as any.

“Oh, okay! Saving up for something special?”

What was this? Were they engaging in small talk? This was completely uncharted territory, and he found with that realization he suddenly had no idea how to act.

“Uh, not exactly… My parents cut me off.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned her chin into the palm of her hand, like this was the most invigorating thing she had heard all day.

“You must have done something bad! Your mom is so sweet.”

“She ain’t fucking— wait, when the hell did you meet my mom?” She giggled and he tried his damnedest to lower his heart rate.

“She’s come to the school lots of times before! I always make sure to say hi since the first time we met and she apologized for the way you kicked the snot out of me at the first sports festival.” 

“She fucking apologized for that?!” 

Uraraka didn’t need anyone feeling fucking sorry for her, especially not his own mother. She could handle herself, and she did handle herself during that fight. Hell, he almost reached his quirks limit back there.

“Oh yeah, it was nice but I told her it wasn’t necessary.” She looked off at some random point on the ceiling, but wasn’t really seeing it. “I needed you to go all out against me, it wouldn’t have been right otherwise. And I learned a lot even just with that one fight. I think that’s the moment I started being super serious about getting better.”

Her eyes widened again as she realized she was rambling. Her cheeks grew even rosier than before, and the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up at the sight.

“A-anyway! Yeah, she’s nice! Your dad too. So, uh… What did you do?” This time her palm actually hit her forehead as she visibly floundered. “No, wait, that’s personal, isn’t it? Nevermind! You don’t have to answer.”

He really wanted to chuckle at her flustered display, but he didn’t. He had to look away so her red as fuck cheeks wouldn’t make him smile.

“It’s not a big deal,” he found himself saying. “I just… was kind of a dick to them. And I…”

Bakugou cleared his throat, not sure why he was still fucking talking. He obviously wasn’t going to tell her why he had been dodging his parents for months. 

He felt the sudden urge to do something. Abruptly, he leaned back in his chair to reach for the drawer on the edge of the counter and dug around for the scissors. He snatched up one of her pages and began to cut out a coupon for miso paste.

He didn’t look at her, but he already knew she was staring at him with those wide eyes of hers. Shortly thereafter, she picked up her scissors and began to cut again. They did this for the duration of four coupons before Bakugou finally spoke again.

“I tried to pretend like I could hide something from them, but god knows those damn bastards know me too fucking well. I was a little shit about it, so this happened.” 

He finally looked at her. Uraraka’s expression was thoughtful, as though she was thinking hard about his situation and what she could say to make it better. But maybe she sensed that he wanted very much to drop the subject.

“Well, at least you seem to know what you’ve done wrong. It should be better moving forward if you keep that in mind. Anyway, uh, thanks for helping, but you don’t have to.” A realization glistened in her eyes just then. “Unless you want some? Definitely take some! I don’t usually end up using all of them anyway. Here, let’s divide them up!” 

He didn’t know how the fuck it came to this, but he found himself accepting her dumb coupons. He sat with her for a good fifteen minutes doing this, and it was the most he had ever spoken to her in his life. He wouldn’t be surprised if his ears were red the whole time.

“You know, there’s lots of ways to save money,” she said as they were finally putting everything away. “You can’t just do couponing if your budget is really that tight.” 

“What the fuck else do I have to do then?”

“Well, you have to figure out what you can live without, use what you have in more efficient ways, never waste anything, say no to going out with friends…” She trailed off, then laughed awkwardly. “I could probably teach a class on the subject.”

“Then teach me.”

For what seemed like the tenth time, her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“W—what?”

“You said you could teach a class, right?” He looked away from her incredulous gaze, suddenly feeling embarrassed at the suggestion but still unwilling to back down. “Then I’ll be your student.” 

She was silent for a moment, but he couldn’t look at her. He felt like a total idiot. Maybe he should just get up, abort the whole thing, and walk away. He could probably never talk to her again.

“Okay!” Uraraka said more enthusiastically than he was expecting. His eyes darted to her and she had the sunniest smile he had ever seen plastered across her pretty face.

His face was a fucking tomato. How could it not be?

“Okay?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun! We can even use the classroom and I’ll be like a real teacher.” 

That damn fucking giggle of hers was going to kill him. He needed to pull himself the fuck together if they were going to spend more time together.

Of course he was going to say yes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did he say yes? He shouldn't have fucking said yes. He could do any number of idiotic things in front of her just by being close. It was a miracle he hadn't made a simping fool of himself that night with the coupon clipping. 

Freshly showered and wearing his typical street clothes, after much deliberation into whether or not he should put any extra care into his appearance or not—no, it seemed too desperate—he showed up to their homeroom classroom at 5:30 PM like they agreed upon. 

“Bakugou-kun!” Uraraka said excitedly the very second he opened the door. Fuck, he didn’t even get a single second to see her and collect himself.

And goddamn , did she have to look so cute?! Her sweater looked soft and comfortable, both things he had learned she looked for in clothing, and the neckline slipped down her shoulders. He had never noticed someone’s collar bones more than he was noticing hers. Had he seen them before? Surely he hadn’t, he would have remembered this.

Her skirt was a little shorter than he may have expected from her. A characteristic soft pink with a bit of a flair, but short enough for him to see a majority of her toned thighs.

Maybe she was trying to kill him.

“Hey,” he said simply. Trying to form more than one word at that time could have been disastrous. A stutter or voice crack felt more probable than not.

“Well, sit down, sit down! The lesson is all ready!” 

She was adorable when she was excited. She was adorable all the time, but most of all when she was amped up about something. Not to mention the way she bounced in anticipation of their little class made her skirt bob even further up her legs. If she turned around and did that, he was done for.

He took a seat in the front row, something he had literally never done before as he preferred the back. He even took out a notebook and pencil like a dutiful student. No feet on the desk or anything.

How he had grown.

“Lesson number one! The most important,” she said, using the pointer that always sat unused on the chalkboard ledge to indicate the words she had written on the board before he arrived. Underneath the title ‘How to be poor’ was a tiny heart and a curved underline—was there any real reason to make it that adorable? Beneath that was the first rule.

“Tell the difference between a need and a want.” 

She looked so proud of herself, with her hand on her hip and confident smile on her lips. She was usually incredibly sheepish about the topic of finances; it was probably why she did her coupon clipping in the evenings when the others had gone to their rooms for the night. But now that her amassed knowledge and life experience could be of use to someone? She was glowing.

He hoped he wasn’t blushing. He was probably fucking blushing.

“There are probably a ton of things you think you need because you’ve always had them. That expensive protein powder you use? Not a need. The fancy cuts of meat? Not a need.” Just as he was about to argue, she cut him off. “I’m sure you’re going to say it's healthier or whatever your argument was going to be, but when you’re poor you have to settle for the healthiest you can get. That means discounted produce and cutting off the bruised or wilted parts. It means going grocery shopping more often because the discounted things you buy probably need to be used immediately. It means buying the things you have coupons for and not the stuff you feel like eating.”

He realized a little too late that he should be writing some of these things down. He had never furiously written notes in his life, opting to just remember what was said, until then. This was completely new territory he had no concept of.

She moved through the lesson with ease. She knew the topic like the back of her hand and rarely even had to reference her notes, which looked quite extensive from where he was sitting. She really went through all of this effort for him, huh? 

“Now to end the lesson, I have a few helpful tips and tricks!”

Use grocery bags for your garbage so you don’t have to buy trash bags. Instead of shaving cream, use hair conditioner; something with multiple uses is more worth the buy. Add a little bit of water in with your mouthwash to make it go farther.

“Really, Cheeks?”

“What? I have never had a cavity, so it works just fine!” 

He supposed that was as good an argument as any.

“Got all that down?” she asked some time later.

“Yeah. Is that everything?” 

“Well, there’s probably more but that’s all I have for now,” she said, a finger stuck to her chin thoughtfully. “I could show you more if I went shopping with you.” 

His poor, dumb heart was going to beat right out of his chest. An outing? With him?

“I— fucking guess. Just… when are you going to go shopping next?”

“I was going to go tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, huh? This would be the third day in a row that he would be with her in some capacity, after months of avoiding her. But he was weak; if she was offering, he was accepting.

“Tomorrow it is,” he said.

"Come on, we'll be late for the bus!" Never mind that it was her that had made them late. 

They just barely made it and took a couple of free seats next to each other.

"This will be so fun! I've never done this with anyone else before. No one else really does couponing…" 

The last part came out sheepishly. Every once in a while her confidence would wane, especially in regards to other people knowing about her financial woes. She didn't seem to care that he knew for some reason. 

"Yeah, well let's get this over with then," he said. That wasn't truly how he felt at all, just a guise he needed to maintain. In reality he would walk next to her as long as she would let him. 

What had happened to avoiding her? 

When they finally entered the store after what Bakugou felt was the most charged bus ride of his life—though she seemed her usual happy-go-lucky self—Uraraka beelined for an aisle end cap he usually ignored. 

"Always check the discount section first. Your coupons won't apply to things that are already marked down, but it's always a good idea to check these prices against your coupons to see which one is the better deal." 

He never would have thought to do that. 

Shopping went well. It felt like the practical after the lesson. He applied what she had taught him and learned new things along the way. Some of this shit just made sense too; he never realized how much money he was wasting just for convenience.

"You'll have to go again in a couple of days probably, but not bad for your first time!" Why did his brain decide that was an innuendo? He looked away as they walked. "Next time you'll have to text me if you have any questions."

"Can't. Don't have your number."

She stopped in her tracks, which Bakugou didn't even realize until he was several paces away. He turned around and took in her shocked expression. 

"We've known each other for almost three years and we don't have each other's phone numbers?"

Before he could even answer, she was approaching swiftly. She could have just fucking asked, but instead her hand plunged into his jacket pocket.

"What the f—" 

"Oh hush! I'm giving you my number."

Once her grubby little paw was on his phone, she grasped his thumb in her other and pressed it to the home button. The phone unlocked for her and she began tapping away.

"You can't just fucking do that, Cheeks!" He was more flustered than angry.

"Oh, you could have stopped me if you wanted to!" She finished tapping and handed him his phone again. "Good to go! Text me questions anytime! Or just… ya know, if you wanted to hang out or something."

Hang out? Since when did they hang out?

Well fuck, they were sort of hanging out right then.

"R—right," he said, cursing his stutter. Real fucking smooth.

Days came and went. Though his next shopping trip went according to plan and he came under budget, he still texted Uraraka to let her know. She sent a string of excited emoji’s, and because he was in the solace of his bedroom alone, he openly smiled.

Cheeks: Pretty soon you’ll be a pro!

Blasty: I’m a pro at everything I do

Cheeks: Everything, huh? That’s a lot of fields!!

Blasty: What can I say? I’m number one for a reason.

Cheeks: What a man

He knew she was joking, but for some reason that statement did something to him. And because the words came through text, he could imagine her saying them in whatever tone of voice he wanted. 

That was dangerous.

As most of their recent interactions had started out, he had no fucking idea how this had happened. 

“Tag, you’re it!” Mina shrieked after she tapped Bakugou on the shoulder. She went sprinting down the street.

“Tag?!” Kaminari yelled, gearing up to follow her.

“No, we aren’t playing fucking tag,” Bakugou said, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, what a party pooper!” Kaminari whined. Uraraka, from Bakugou’s side, giggled.

“Well it’s not really a good time if not everyone is having fun,” Uraraka said good-naturedly.

“Listen, Uraraka-chan, there’s a certain way we do things around here.” As he spoke, Kaminari came up on Uraraka’s other side and threw an arm over her shoulder. Bakugou’s eyes zeroed in on the action. 

“We bug the crap out of Bakubro, he gets mad, we all laugh, he pretends he isn’t having a great time. It’s the routine! You’ll learn.” With his final statement, he poked her lightly on the nose.

“All right, all right,” Bakugou said, a bit of that aforementioned anger seeping into his tone. He brusquely shoved Kaminari’s arm off of Uraraka’s shoulder.

“Aw, is Bakubro getting a teeny tiny bit je—”

“Shut the fuck up if you want to keep your tongue in your mouth, Fry Brain.”

They all knew by now when he was being serious. This was one of those times.

“Anyway,” Kirishima began, redirecting before the situation became catastrophic. “The place is just around the corner!”

This was honestly stupid. She didn’t need to come—not that he didn’t want her there. But he didn’t need her to babysit his wallet. He had been doing this budgeting thing for just over two weeks now. He had demonstrated that he could do this just fine on his own, but when she heard he had plans to go out with his friends, she insisted. 

“What if you get tempted by something! It’s easy to think ‘wow, I’ve been budgeting so well, I’m going to treat myself.’ But you can’t, that’s a trap!”

It was a somewhat flimsy, somewhat logical excuse to tag along, and Bakugou got the distinct impression that she just… wanted to come.

She must have wanted some time to hang out with Mina. He noticed they were getting a little closer lately. Yeah, that was it.

When they arrived they found a large enough table with little to no issue in the food court style place. The Bakusquad fell into their usual seating arrangements, with Bakugou on one of the ends of the table and Kirishima on his other side.

“Oh, mind if we trade?” a high, cheery voice said suddenly, stopping the group's little routine in an instant. They all looked at her as she peered at Kirishima, waiting for his answer.

“Oh! Yeah, sure!” he finally said.

In the next few seconds, the entirety of the Bakusquad seemed to form some silent, cheeky alliance as they all decided Bakugou and Uraraka would man the table while they retrieved their food. They were abruptly alone.

Damn his shitty friends and their perceptiveness. He had suspected that they knew about his crush on Uraraka, but hoped he was wrong. The look in their eyes as they scurried off confirmed to him that he was not.

“Uh,” Bakugou said, because the three second long silence was already killing him. 

"I asked to switch because I figured we could share something? Find the cheapest, decently sized meal then split, if that's okay!" 

Right, this was about the money. Of course, that was the whole reason she was there. 

"But… Um, if you don't want to, that's fine! Yeah, no, that was probably a weird suggestion." He had heard her giggle many, many times now. But this was a nervous one. "Nevermind! So, uh, what do you think is the cheapest thing here?"

"We can share."

For a second she only stared at him, his words seeming to need time to be processed. 

"You— We— Yeah. Yeah, okay. It's economical! Cool. Okay." 

The fact that she was so fucking cute when she was flustered nearly distracted him from his train of thought, but he held on to it somehow. 

She was flustered. Uraraka was flustered by the idea of sharing food with him. Her cheeks had even turned a deeper pink than normal. Not to mention that when he had agreed to her suggestion, an undeniable, sweet smile graced her lips.

What did this mean? It seemed obvious, he wasn't stupid. But were there any alternatives that could come swooping in and ruin this new found confidence of his? Was this some kind of fluke he shouldn't trust? 

He told himself that he needed to calm down, because maybe she was just like this. He had hung out with her so few times and only very recently. Maybe just the idea of sharing a meal with any guy to her was something slightly scandalous, like all that indirect kissing bullshit they tout in anime.

It was sort of like an indirect kiss though. 

Dear god, focus.

It was the most awkward four minutes in history waiting for one of the bumbling groupees to get back with their food. The very second Mina returned, Bakugou was off with Uraraka trailing closely behind.

They made quick work of eliminating the more expensive options and pinpointing just what they were looking for. 

They split up and each came back with something, Bakugou with takoyaki in his hand and Uraraka with gyoza. She had fought him on who would acquire which item, but her argument was fairly sound.

"There is finally someone that is on an even tighter budget than I am! Let me get the more expensive thing for once, please?"

It was the 'please' that really gave her the edge. He couldn't look at her adorable puppy dog eyes and hear her soft plea without caving immediately.

She could never know that she had this power over him. 

The extras were incredibly loud in their silence about the two of them sharing. He knew every one of them was itching to start some shit, but something stopped them. Maybe they didn't want to embarrass Uraraka, maybe they didn't want him to explode. It was likely a combination of the two.

"I forgot how many I ate," she said, and they stared down at the last takoyaki. 

"You can have it," he said. Eyes widened all around the table at the way Bakugou had so easily conceded. Even when they were subtle they were deafening somehow.

"No, let's just share it."

When he expected her to split the ball in half, instead she picked it up with her chopstick. Weird, she just said they would split, but she was going to eat it?

She took a big bite, about half of the ball in one go, then held the rest in front of his mouth, her other hand positioned underneath to catch any crumbs. 

How many times had he tried and failed to keep himself from blushing in front of her? Well, this one was the worst, because all of his closest friends—read annoyances—were there to see it this time. 

Uraraka's eyes darted around as she realized they were all watching with bated breath. She swallowed her food.

"Un—unless you don't want it?" she said, suddenly unsure. 

He acted fast, probably too fast because he was certain he startled her. His mouth closed around her chopsticks and he took the food that had her lips on it less than a minute before. Her pretty, plump, pink lips.

Everyone was unbearably irritating about it. Not wanting to embarrass Uraraka seemed to fly completely out the window.

“Indirect kiss!” both Mina and Kaminari shouted, making excited eye contact. Kirishima just chuckled, something he seemed to try to contain but couldn’t. Sero reached across the table and clapped Bakugou on the shoulder, the bravest response really. But Bakugou held it together, because he figured he would only make things worse for her if he blew up.

“Shut the hell up, you fucking hooligans,” Bakugou said, with little to no zeal. 

Uraraka’s face erupted into a blush so potent, he thought she might start glowing. She tried to cover it up with an anxious giggle. 

“Come on guys, it’s not a big deal,” she said, quickly setting her chopsticks down and busying herself with tucking some hair behind her ear.

“ Right, like you using the oldest move in the book on Bakugou isn’t the best thing that has happened all week. All month! Dare I say all year!” Mina said.

“I did not!” Uraraka argued. 

“You fed him, Uraraka-chan! And it was the cutest thing I have ever seen!” Kaminari said, then reached for a high five. Uraraka did not return, but instead shot out of her chair.

“I, uh, need the restroom!”

She proceeded to walk off in the exact opposite direction of the restrooms.

“Fucking nice, guys,” Bakugou sneered as he too stood.

“Aw, he’s gonna go after her!” Mina exclaimed, a hand over her heart.

“Go get your girl, man!” Kirishima encouraged.

“That’s not what’s fucking happening!”

As he caught up with her, he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Sorry for his idiot friends? He guessed that was as good a thing to say as anything else.

“Don’t listen to those jackasses,” he found himself saying instead. That was probably close enough.

She turned around, a deer in headlights look in her eyes even before she spotted him, at just the sound of his voice.

"Wh—what?"

Fuck, she even looked pretty when she was mortified. 

"They— You know, they do this. They just try to be embarrassing and shit." 

“I’m not embarrassed!” A blatant lie, but okay. “I’m… I…” He had literally no idea what she was going to say, so all he could do was watch her squirm.

“I just… got a little too hopeful. Had to step away.” 

Uraraka looked like she wanted to slap herself, and she was surely screaming at herself inside her own head. She buried her face in her hands. 

“Nevermind! Just, give me a second?”

“No, I want to know what you mean.” 

The words came out more stern than he had intended, and her body stiffened at his tone.

“I— fuck, just… what do you mean ‘hopeful’?” He at least partially succeeded in sounding softer that time. She removed her hands from her face and studied his expression.

“I just meant… you know, they were acting like— like we were a thing.” She gestured between them half-heartedly. “But I’m just… your money manager, I guess. That’s the reason you started talking to me, and that’s sort of all I am to you. I just got carried away, like I always do.” 

“That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve heard in my entire life,” he blurted without a second thought to what the fuck he was saying. She stared with a dumbfounded expression.

Kirishima had said to get his girl, right? Well, apparently that was what was fucking happening.

Bakugou grasped her hand and she offered no resistance. He held it—so small compared to his own—in both of his. A deep breath gave him the wherewithal to continue.

“We never talked much in the first place, but for months now, I’ve been avoiding you like the damn plague. Do you know why?” She shook her head minutely. “Because I like you so much I don’t know what to fucking do with it all. Do you know why my mom got pissed and cut me off? I swerved my parents for five months because I knew they would know. They would catch on to my dumb, lovesick puppy deal instantly.”

He stepped closer, their personal spaces becoming one bubble that shielded them from anything that wasn’t each other.

“When I saw you clipping coupons, even though I was fucking nervous to stop avoiding you, deep down I saw it as my opportunity, fucking finally, to talk to you. I ain’t a fucking coward, but I… I have been when it came to you. And fuck how I wish I could go back and do it over. So no, you’re not just my ‘money manager,’ you’re…” 

He didn’t know how to put it into words. What was she to him? Or better yet, what could she be to him?

“Mine, if you want to be.” 

He held his breath as he waited for her response. Why was she so still? Why was her expression so… blank? Fuck, he broke her. She was an emotionless statue who had only let him get so close, let him touch her, and let him confess his undying fucking love because her brain was fractured.

He loosened his hold on her hand—when had he started holding it so tight?—and began to back away. Her eyes came into focus as she felt him grow further, and he could see the gears turning in her head. Thank god.

She gripped his hand, hers no longer limp in his grasp, and pulled him closer, back where he belonged. A sound of surprise escaped his lips as he felt himself being yanked even closer than he had been.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine,” she said before their lips connected. 

He would have heard the distant whoops and hollers from his band of dumbasses if he hadn’t been so completely consumed by her. Her soft lips on his were captivating, her hand on his cheek set his skin on fire, his own hand finding her waist and sending a noticeable shiver down her spine made his heart want to implode, taking him with it.

It was over too soon, but the thought that he could kiss her whenever he wanted made him feel much better.

“I guess we both should have said something months ago,” she whispered centimeters from his mouth, enough that he could taste her breath.

Both of them? Months ago? She… Wanted… Months?

His brain didn’t seem capable of even the most basic of reasoning skills any longer, but that didn’t stop him from slamming his mouth against hers yet again. He could feel her smiling against his lips, and he no longer felt the need to hide the grin she caused across his face.

Goddamn, he was going to be a simp on the outside now too, he could feel it. She was going to have him wrapped around her little finger and he was going to love it.

The squad was going to be insufferable about this.

He walked into his cousin's birthday party with his girlfriend of one week on his arm. He had even asked his auntie if she could come, and he imagined the woman’s eyes popping out of her head just from the shocked tone she’d had on the phone. Bakugou asking permission for something was not usual.

He had thought they would have at least a little time before the conversation with his mom would get into full swing, but he had been wrong. He supposed he should have expected it; his mom was the least likely person to beat around the bush.

“Uraraka-chan!” Mitsuki said, a little surprise lacing her greeting. “I didn’t know you would be coming.” 

Uraraka’s eyes widened then darted to his. He knew what she was thinking, she was worried she had intruded, that she wasn’t welcome.

“Auntie Chiyo said it was okay, Cheeks, don’t worry.” She visibly relaxed.

“You asked? Really?” Mitsuki said, now a lot of surprise behind her words.

“Yeah, mom. I’ve been practicing this whole communicating thing. It’s been working out pretty well, I think.” 

He squeezed Uraraka’s hand a little tighter and glanced at her knowingly. He even returned her small smile.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Mitsuki asked. Rather than only inquiry lining her voice, she had an undeniable tone of hope.

He sucked in a breath as he prepared to explain what had gone down, everything. If he was doing this communicating thing, he was doing it fucking right. Burying the hatchet with his mom would feel good, and going to see his parents—maybe even weekly now—would be nice. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he missed them. 

“Mom, meet the reason I was avoiding you,” he said, his thumb pointing directly at Uraraka. The brunette held a sheepish smile as Mitsuki glanced at her with yet more confusion.

“Because I didn’t want you to know how much of a goddamn simp I was for this amazing girl.”

The biggest smile he had ever seen on his mothers face erupted then. He knew then that they were in the clear, that he could make up with his parents. His mom would surely call him an idiot and give him a mild smack down for being so dumb, but he could tell from her grin that all would be quickly forgiven. Then he could get to their life of coupon clipping.