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In Uraraka’s experience, school field trips were always interesting.
To say the least.
Most of the time, they were fun. Even the ones where they were training themselves into dust. You’d think they’d be awful, but even those field trips were exciting. Uraraka enjoyed working on her quirk, on her fighting style, on anything that would help her be a better hero. Plus, even during the insane training trips, they did fun stuff. Mostly, field trips weren’t fun if they got crashed by villains, but that was about it.
She liked field trips, is what she was saying. Especially the overnight ones.
It always made everyone get closer. Drew everyone in. Everyone.
Even Bakugou.
Over the years, he’d gotten less prickly with everyone. Mellowed out wasn’t really the right word, but it was probably as close as you could get. He was less likely to bark, and even less likely to bite—as least, when it came to his classmates, anyway—and he was even sort of pleasant to work with.
Mostly.
It kind of depended on who you were. Everyone seemed to be on an internal scale of his. A scale that determined exactly how much of you he could take, and for how long. People like Mineta were useless to him. Denki and Kirishima were probably highest on the tolerance scale. Mina was pretty up there, and Deku was too—much to everyone’s surprise. They’d gotten on a lot better at the start of their third year, for some reason. Uraraka chalked it up to maturity, and how both of them had work study, and how their agencies worked together a lot.
But, what surprised everyone the most was how Uraraka fit on the scale.
Which was almost…
Not at all?
Not in a bad way. Not really. Just in a stunning sort of way.
It seemed that Bakugou had an endless well of time for Uraraka. That he didn’t mind her in the slightest bit. They worked well together, could conversate for hours (which, admittedly, they had done before), and he was even comfortable enough that he never growled at her. Occasionally, he’d scoff, but that was a replacement for a laugh in his case.
No.
Bakugou definitely had a higher tolerance for Uraraka.
And nobody was really sure why.
It wasn’t like he gave her special attention or anything. He didn’t. And, according to Mina, he didn’t fit the profile for a guy who was cupid-struck.
Yet…
Everyone was sure that was what it was.
What else could it be?
Not even Uraraka was sure. However, she didn’t think it was wise to think like that.
…it’d get her hopes up.
Because, in all honesty:
She liked Bakugou.
Like… in a romantic sort of way.
She thought he was…
Well, a lot of things.
He was determined. And brave. Unafraid of the tough stuff, like being honest or facing down villains. Sure, Deku was like that, too. Most of the guys were. But they didn’t have the same flare Bakugou did. And, yeah, she’d liked Deku for a bit, but that wasn’t the same.
With Deku, it was more like… infatuation? Yeah, that was the word. The butterflies and the staring and the nerves. He always made her feel like she’d sucked in too much helium, like she was constantly inflating, floating herself to the moon, and couldn’t stop.
But, she realized some time during their second year that Deku wasn’t…
…well…
He wasn’t too considerate when it came to interpersonal matters. He was far too preoccupied with being everyone’s hero. With pursuing All Might’s shadow. Deku didn’t have time for a life. He had to fill the empty spot the Symbol of Peace had left behind, and that was a hefty task to place on your shoulders. It meant being everyone’s hero, all the time. Hers, included—and even his own.
Not that there wasn’t anything wrong with that. It just… left a lot to be desired. Left no room for things like real, heart-to-heart feelings.
When she realized that, she stopped noticing Deku so much. Her eyes stopped trying to find his first in the classroom, and she stopped looking out her dorm window, hoping to catch a glimpse of him training late into the night.
Not that they weren’t friends.
She just…
Didn’t think of him in a romantic way. Didn’t think of him as someone she could partner with.
Think of him as someone she could fight with. Could stand next to.
Deku wasn’t a solo act, not entirely. It was just that he never stood still long enough to let anyone really BE next to him.
Yeah.
That was it.
Bakugou used to be like that too. Used to be moving so fast no one was allowed to catch up. That place next to him? He knew it was empty. Knew it could be filled.
He just wouldn’t allow it.
But, that shifted sometime. Uraraka didn’t know when exactly, but she noticed it.
Bakugou knew:
He couldn’t do this hero-thing alone. He needed a support. Another leg to stand on.
Some days, Uraraka hoped she could be that person. The one he relied on.
For some reason, she couldn’t help but think that’d be awesome. To stand next to someone as bold, and as strong, and as reliable as Bakugou. To be the one that a guy like him relied on. To be able to stand with him, that shit-eating grin on his face as the two of them took on the world.
It was a fantasy, really. But still.
The idea of it made her giddy, and antsy, and yet, content, all at the same time.
Yeah.
What she felt for Bakugou was way different than what she had felt for Deku. With Deku, it had been all about butterflies. But, with Bakugou, she felt like she could take part in something. Like he would let her participate.
Because he did.
In all her experiences with him, he did let her participate.
During their current training camp field trip, they’d been partnered up. Asked to find someone in class to work with. It was an exercise in teamwork, of course. They didn’t do those as often as they used to—honestly, they should have teamwork down by now, they were in their third year after all—but, occasionally, they did. Just to brush up on their team skills.
Earlier that day, they had to pick their partner.
And Bakugou had, for some reason, picked her.
“Oi, Uravity.”
It had caught her off-guard, to hear his gruff voice calling her by her hero name.
Bakugou almost never called anyone by their names, let alone their hero names.
She felt like she’d nearly fallen out of her costume.
“Um, yes?”
“Wanna pair up? We could kick some ass together.”
He’d said it with such confidence. Like there was no way they WOULDN’T kick ass together.
He trusted her as his partner.
That’s what it was.
And yeah, she felt some butterflies at that. Like her veins were pumping blood too fast and her heart was beating way beyond what was normal. As if she’d just floated an entire city into the sky, and like she’d ran all the way to the moon. She definitely felt that, there’s no denying she did.
But she also felt more than that.
Something hot like lava moving through her bones. At the very core of her being, rather than just at the surface. Changing the earth’s center. Making gravity readjust to fit this new establishment.
Yeah.
The way she felt about Bakugou and Deku were way, way different.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” she’d said.
And, sure enough, Bakugou wasn’t wrong.
They’d kicked ass.
Came in first place in the exercise, actually.
Thinking back on it, she couldn’t help but smile.
But that was neither here nor there at the moment.
At the moment, Uraraka was sneaking out of her room to the kitchen. For some reason, she’d woken up in the middle of the night, completely parched. That almost never happened. Hardly ever. And, although she knew she wasn’t supposed to leave her room, it was alright if she was just going to get a glass of water, right? It wasn’t like she was up to no good. She was just thirsty.
In all honesty, she didn’t feel like she was doing anything wrong.
When she got to the kitchen, she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, aiming to take it back to her room. Minimize the time she was out of bed, able to get caught. Plus, the bottle would give her evidence that she had pure intent if a teacher did end up finding her.
But, that wasn’t what happened.
As she left the kitchen, she bumped into something and dropped the bottle.
Something was in the doorway.
Something that hadn’t been there before.
A person.
“Oof!” she grunted, smacking into the person.
Holy crap.
This person was like a brick wall!
So then, there was no way it was Aizawa…
Hands came up and gripped her upper arms, keeping her balanced. Preventing her from falling backward. Strong, sturdy hands. Hands that were calloused, and hot.
Huh.
Looking up, she noticed two things.
Thing one:
This person was not wearing a shirt. In fact, they weren’t even really wearing shorts. They were only wearing boxers.
Thing two:
It was Bakugou.
All the blood drained from her being at once, only to rush back into all the wrong places. Places like her face, and her stomach, and some place just south of that. Heat reared up inside her belly and her heartrate roared into her ears.
Oh man.
Why did he have to be so naked?
“Sorry,” Uraraka stammered, her voice a whisper, unable to look up at his bare chest.
“’S alright,” he replied, voice thick with sleep.
Oh wow.
It was…
So deep.
And so husky.
If she wasn’t awake before that moment, she definitely was once she’d heard his voice.
She opened her mouth to reply—though, in all honesty, she wasn’t sure what she was going to say—when a noise down the hall could be heard.
Very distinctly: a door opening.
Both of their heads whipped toward the sound, then back at each other. Bakugou’s hands were still lightly gripping her upper arms, and she was still standing there like a deer in the headlights when he made a snap decision.
His eyes narrowed, focusing up. Going into reaction mode.
In two seconds, he had the situation analyzed.
“We have to hide,” he whispered, his hand sliding down her arm to grip her own hand. Dragging her—gently—behind him, back into the kitchen.
Uraraka looked around, uncertain where they should hide.
The pantry? No, that door was the most likely to be opened.
“There!” she whispered, pointing to the storage closet. The one that housed the cooking utensils and Tupperware.
Because whoever it was wasn’t going to be cooking, right? It was definitely way too late for that.
Apparently, Bakugou thought it was a good idea, too. Without any further discussion, he steered them toward that door, swung it open, and pulled both of them inside.
Very quietly, he closed the door. Moving slowly—so slow actually, that it didn’t even make a click.
They were successfully closed inside the closet.
Great.
It was dark now. Completely dark. The two of them doing their best to listen. To hear anything besides their own breathing.
But it was difficult.
There was so little space, and what little they had was hot.
Very hot.
Uraraka found that her breaths sounded like wind blasts, and that her heartbeat was pounding louder than a bass drum at a punk rock concert.
She couldn’t even hear herself think.
And the space was small. Too small.
Honestly, between Bakugou’s bulky chest and her own, she wasn’t sure how they managed to fit in the little closet. She was completely backed against the shelves, and she was sure he wasn’t fairing any better. Her legs were tangled with his, and his hand somehow came to rest on the small of her back as he’d closed them in. Not that she could complain. Probably, it was the only thing holding her on balance. The only thing keeping her from falling over.
It was bearable at that moment. Bearable because of necessity.
She knew it wouldn’t be for long though. Eventually, it would be too much.
Eventually, she was going to implode.
Another breath went by, and someone came into the kitchen.
They saw the light go on, it lit up the floor beneath them. A dim slice of brightness that cut into their space, that made Uraraka’s heart rate and breathing feel a million times louder than it already did.
And it seemed to be getting harder to control…
“Relax.”
The command was an exhale. A whisper. It ghosted across her ear, slanting down to tickle her neck with a short blast of heat that draped over her shoulder like an invisible hand.
She shivered.
She couldn’t help it.
She hoped he didn’t notice. That would make things weird, wouldn’t it?
When she peeked at him though, he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his eyes were slanted sideways, watching the door. As if he could see whoever was on the other side.
Right.
They were in here because they weren’t supposed to be out.
Not because they were trying to rendezvous.
This was completely innocent.
Nothing was going on.
Right.
Nothing was going on.
She repeated that, over and over, to herself. Made it into a mantra, used it to steady her heart and quiet her breathing. Best to remind herself. That way, she didn’t get the wrong idea. Didn’t inadvertently get her hopes up.
By the time the light turned off and footsteps shuffled their way out of the kitchen, she had it all under control.
But still.
They waited a few more breaths before they both let out a completely unified exhale.
“Phew, that was close,” Uraraka whispered.
“Hmm,” Bakugou agreed with a grunt.
It was only then that she realized where her hand was.
On his bare chest.
Luckily, it was dark. He didn’t see her notice, and didn’t see her flushing bright red. He couldn’t see the way she tried to feel for him in the dark, curious as to where his muscles lead. How much of it there was.
He was so steady. So strong.
Before the fire started up in her belly, she mentally stepped aside from those thoughts.
Because she realized:
Bakugou wasn’t just well-muscled.
He was burning up.
Concern took the reins, dethroning desire in an instant.
“Bakugou, are you okay?” she whispered, hand ghosting up to touch his face, her aim being his forehead. “You’re burning up,” she explained.
Before her hand could reach his head, he snagged it. Stopped its path.
“I’m fine,” he grumbled into the dark.
“But, Bakugou—”
A hand jumped over her mouth. She registered the sweet scent of the nitroglycerin in his palms just a moment before she realized why he’d shushed her.
More footsteps.
Someone was coming into the kitchen again.
He removed his hand now that she was aware. Trusted her enough to keep quiet. To keep them from getting caught.
And she did.
But that didn’t mean she dropped the subject.
“Bakugou, I think you have a fever,” she whispered, leaning up so the sound didn’t have to travel far. So her voice could be even quieter. Just above a breath.
As the sound traveled the short distance, she noticed.
He shuddered.
Just as she had before.
Later, she’d realize that it meant he’d seen her shiver, too. But, in the moment, all she could focus on were his red eyes, piercing her in the dark. Boring holes into her with its intent stare.
Hungry eyes.
Eyes that wanted.
The kind of eyes that made your stomach quiver when you saw them in the woods at night.
The footsteps receded, but there was nothing more important to her mind than this moment. Than the sweltering feeling of being in the dark with Bakugou. Of being face to face with him, so, so close. Close enough that, if they wanted it, their lips could meet.
Her mouth was even drier than before, as her wild thoughts took over. As he leaned over her–when had he gotten so tall?—and whispered into her hair.
“Stop me, if you want, but I’m at my limit. I’m going to explode.”
Before she could ask him for clarification, his head jumped down.
And he kissed her.
Heat lanced all over her skin, pouring out from his body in waves. Building, and building, and building. It was even hotter than she’d thought it would be. Burning much, much brighter. Spiraling into a ball of flames, she was sure. They’d burn a hole through the wall if they weren’t careful.
Not that they cared.
Not him, not her.
They were on the verge of collapse anyway. Twin stars on the brink of eruption.
Supernova.
That’s where they were.
That point where everything was heat and fight and fierceness. A desperate battle against the dark, against space itself. Bakugou grabbed her, wrapped one steady arm underneath her to bring her to a better height. So he could hold her and pin her against the wall and breathe warmth into her body with his own. So she could feel exactly where the heat started, and how there wasn’t anything there to stop it.
Oh.
Oh man.
She was definitely going to die here. Definitely going to explode.
He was too much. Too much heat, and too much skin, and too much touch. He was everywhere, and still, not touching her nearly enough. His hands running along her waist, her legs, her face. Tangled in her hair while his tongue burned its way across her lips. As his exhales ghosted into her mouth, his fingers digging warmth into her skin with his blunt nails.
Yeah, he was too much.
Way too much.
Yet, somehow, he wasn’t nearly enough.
He could be.
But he wasn’t.
Not yet.
Uraraka wanted more.
More heat, more skin, more touch. More everything.
More of him.
She ran her hands along his chest, felt the heat that was there. The tight muscle. The ferocity with which his heart pounded against her palm, and the way his breaths hitched at her touch, stuttering against his own lungs.
“Damnit,” he grumbled, jolting like a startled beast. “You’re gunna kill me Ochaco.”
Oh.
Oh wow.
That was the first time she’d ever heard him say her first name. The first time she’d ever heard any boy use her first name, for that matter.
Another shiver ripped down her spine, and his hips jerked in response.
As they did, he changed direction. Stopped pouring kisses into her mouth, stopped biting her lip gently. Instead, he trailed kisses down her neck. Hot kisses that ran further than his lips. Further than his reach. Breaths heaving more heat into every kiss he pounded into her skin.
She couldn’t help herself. His kisses were laid with such ferocity, and were so surprising. The feeling of them tingled her skin, made her shake.
She couldn’t help it.
Her breath hitched, just like his had. One exhale stuttered inside her lungs. Stalling out before her breathing could get back to normal.
She didn’t mean to do it.
But it brought them both to a new level.
A growl slipped out of him. A growl very unlike the one he used for everyone else.
This was a new species entirely.
The kind of growl that raised the hair on her arms. That stirred the heat that was pulling at her stomach. The kind of growl that ran its fingers along her spine, and ghosted back through her skin.
It was… sexy.
She liked it.
She liked it a lot.
She added it to the growing list of things she wanted more of.
“Katsuki,” she murmured, completely breathless. Unsure of what she wanted to say—what she wanted to convey. She only knew that she did want to convey. That she had to say SOMETHING to the boy stealing her air in favor of his own.
He stopped trailing kisses down her neck. It was so sudden, she was kind of in shock. Unable to make sense of what he was doing. Why he’d stopped. Tamed himself. Reigned himself in. She could feel his hot exhales on the skin of her shoulder where the strap of her tank top had fallen down. Felt the way he was ragged and worn.
He chuckled.
“Finally.”
He said it as if it were obvious. As sure as the sun. A day that had to dawn eventually.
He said it like he’d been waiting.
Like he’d wanted this supernova experience, all along.
And, she had to admit:
She could see why.
It still wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted more. A thousand more hours with him. A thousand years of heat, of fierce fires burning between them and supernovas lighting the night. Wanted to spend the next six hours in this stupid closet with him, if that was the only place where she could get those things.
But, of course, that was unreasonable.
They had to get back to their rooms eventually.
When Bakugou’s chest stopped heaving so much—and thank gods it did, every time his chest pressed against hers, Uraraka’s legs shook a little bit more as they dangled at his sides, unable to calm down—he finally drew back. His red eyes locking with her again. Still hungry, but, controlled.
He grinned at her.
Not a smirk, not a smile of triumph or victory. A genuinely happy, giddy grin. As if he’d just tasted the sun, drained it with one gulp.
It set her on fire in a whole other direction. Not just fire and flame and ferocity. Not just the death of stars in her hands, working through her stomach. There was more to it than that. More than just that moment of bright explosion. Lava moving through her, thick and strong. Flowing like a river. Scorching the earth to bring about new places, new things. It wasn’t an unusual feeling for her. In fact, this was how she usually felt when she was thinking about Bakugou. About how much she liked him. Respected him.
…how much she loved him, probably.
It had been a long time coming, this supernova.
And she couldn’t blame him for being happy that it finally did happen. Not when she, herself, was in complete bliss as well.
He set her down. Careful with her, not letting go immediately. Which, in all honesty, was good. Her legs were wobbly, and her head was slightly clouded. Dizzy. His hand slid along her back, brushing the bare skin as her tank top came up, the edge of the fabric getting caught just above his hand. His fingers danced the line of her spine while she tried to collect herself.
Not that his hand helped.
It sent her tingling, her desire rearing its head again as his fingers ghosted gently over her skin.
But she had to ignore it. Had to get herself together.
It took way longer than it probably should have.
When her breathing finally evened out, and her fists stopped being clenched against his chest, he stepped back some (as much as he could anyway).
Leaning over the space he’d just created, he gave the top of her head a kiss.
“Sorry. Probably should’ve asked you out first or something,” he said into her hair.
She shook her head. “This is fine. As long as you ask me out now, I mean.”
He chuckled. “Think I won’t?”
She shrugged, but she didn’t mean it. In the darkness, she was smiling, and it could be heard in her voice. “I mean, you’re a bit unpredictable Katsuki Bakugou.”
Another growl slipped out of him. Almost as if she’d pulled it from his teeth.
A jolt of electricity ran through her veins.
“Don’t call me that when I’m trying to have some self-control roundface. It’s mean as fuck,” he grumbled, voice husky again. Burning like coals under a campfire.
“Sorry,” she squeaked.
He chuckled, a deep throaty sound that bounced back and forth between them. “Well. I guess it’s now or never, huh?”
He created as much space as he could between them. Removing his hand from her back so he could hold hers instead.
“Would you like to go out with me Uraraka?”
She giggled. “THAT’S how you’re going ask? Really?”
“Hey, I’ve never fucking done this before. What the hell am I supposed to say, huh?”
He could feel her shrug through their connected hands.
“I don’t know. Just say it how you would’ve said it if you weren’t nervous.”
“Who the fuck said I was nervous?”
She rolled her eyes, but the motion was lost in the aftermath of their supernova.
Eventually, he sighed. “Fine, but you asked for it.”
Space disappeared again as Katsuki leaned in. Came to a stop just inches from Uraraka’s face.
It made her insides quiver again. Ready. Excited for the next supernova. For the next kiss.
Only, he didn’t kiss her.
Face close to hers, he did his best to make sure she could see his eyes. How serious they were when he spoke. How steady. How ready he was for this explosion. For this chaos of sound and light and heat.
Bakugou knew what he was doing, knew he was inciting that supernova.
“Go out with me.”
The words were so heavy. Clung so tightly to her mind. They were the words she’d heard over and over again in her dreams.
How could she ever say no?