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Bakubro

Summary:

On his morning jog, Bakugo sees Mineta sulking at the edge of the bridge.

Against his better judgment, he decides to see what's up.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Bakugo Katsuki’s running routine took him to all sorts of places.

If anything, the move to the dorms after that disastrous summer camp only made them weirder. There was a certain appeal in trying to find new, unthreaded paths with each run – and a challenge in finding the most efficient way of going through them. Bakugo was nothing if not competitive, even if his opponent was just a slightly off pavement stone.

His peers would be surprised to see that Bakugo’s face while running wasn’t tightened up in his typical scowl, or that it included no amount of teeth-gnashing. If anything, it was almost… mellow. Not that he’d be caught dead looking like some moped-up pissant in front of this crowd of extras, no siree. Bakugo was a hardass, and he planned to remain a hardass.

It was there, in the middle of an early morning run, where he stumbled upon Mineta staring forlornly at the river. The bridge was small and antique, made of red cobblestone – a strange oddity that survived the test of time. A person of average teenager size would have no trouble looking over the stone railing – but a dwarf like 1A’s resident “ladies’ man” could be comfortable sitting right on top of it, not quite looking like he was about to jump, but rather contemplating what got him to this point of life.

Bakugo didn’t think much of it once he saw him for the first time, the ridiculous grapevine hairdo poking out from under the horizon. It was early Sunday, they were free to do whatever they wanted. If one of the extras in his class wanted to just sit on his ass and do nothing, that was just fine by him. Yet, some part of this hardassness hesitated as the distance steadily decreased between them. Why the fuck would Mineta sit here, in this Bumfuck, Nowhere, and not in his room or anywhere closer to the dorms? There was no shortage of places to go to if you wanted to be alone.

Against his better judgment, Bakugo stopped once he was about to step his foot off the bridge – and cast an annoyed look at the back of Mineta’s head. One last calculation in his brain, and 1A’s problem child approached another. “Oi, Grape Dwarf—“ And, somewhat predictably, the rough grunt of a greeting got Mineta to jump in place in surprise – and come dangerously closely to dunking himself in the river. Bakugo growled in annoyance, seizing him by the scruff of his neck before he fell. “First of all, don’t fucking do that.”

“B-b-bakugo?! What are you doing here?!”

“Saving your sorry ass, apparently.” Not too gently, but Katsuki deposited Mineta back on the pavement. “You havin’ a deathwish or what?”

“T-that’s not… I… um...” The purple dwarf was a self-admitted coward, but it seemed like he was trying very hard to brave it out this time and try weaseling out of an answer. Bakugo glowered a little harder. “It’s not… your… business...”

“People looking like they’re about to jump is in fact my fucking business.” The blonde wasn’t good with people, unless it involved telling them to beat it or beating them. That’s how he fucked up the Provisional Hero License exam. “Especially classmates. Or something.”

“Just leave me alone, alright? Please?” Bakugo glowered even harder. This time Mineta balked. The last person he wanted on his case was the explosive murderking of 1A, but… Bakugo was also the last person he would ever spill the beans to about anything, let alone his current problem.

...well, what the hell. At best he would just laugh him off, call him an extra, tell him to go fuck himself. Bakugo things. Well-deserved this time, probably. “...why do you care?” Still, he couldn’t help but be defiant, even if his voice had any defiance threatened right out of. 1A’s fighting savant gave him an odd look, a very un-Bakugo look; of melancholic contemplation.

“Beats me.” It didn’t last for long, the blond waving it off without a care. “But I ain’t gonna have any of you assholes ruining the class I am in with some petty melodrama, got it?”

----

Ultimately, Mineta chose to spill the beans.

It felt like a fever dream: he and Bakugo just sitting on the bench in a park, with barely anyone around. The hour was still young, but it seemed this part of the city just didn’t see much movement to begin with. Minoru didn’t really take notice earlier, just walking where his feet would carry him.

“Alright, I don’t have whole fucking day to deal with this. Spill, Mineta.” The shorter of the two jolted in surprise, staring at Bakugo just addressing him with his actual name and not some demeaning nickname. He could count people called their real names by Bakugo on a single hand.

Well, this wasn’t the time to ponder. “Uh, well… I was thinking to quit the UA.”

Bakugo remained silent for an uncomfortably long amount of time to Mineta’s taste. “The fuck would you?”

“There’s… I’ve been…” Somehow, he felt both annoyed and disturbed that Bakugo didn’t rush him. He barely pretended to care, just stretching his arms behind the bench and staring at the morning sky, true, but... “I don’t think I belong here.”

“Lemme guess, you’re having a moral hangover.” Mineta blinked, not sure how to process what his peer just said. “It’s not about your stupid-ass Quirk – class’s rife with them. It’s not about you being the size of chihuahua shit, we’ve got all kinds of weirdass-looking extras. You ain’t that much of a dumbass, since you were halfway in the theoretical, and you keep coasting that mediocrity bay like it owes you fucking money.”

...did Bakugo just compliment him?

“So if it’s not any of these things… it’s about your pervy-ass shit.”

“...it’s about my pervy-ass shit.”

“Well, about fucking time you took notice.” Bakugo half-chortled, half-scoffed. “Took only Bubblegum putting you through some Clockwork Orange shit.”

“...what?”

“Whatever. So, you’re leaving because you’re a shitheel?”

“That’s… the gist of it, yeah.” Mineta sighed. “I don’t know. I thought I’m not. I thought I’m just doing natural stuff, the kind of stuff a hormonal man – guy – uh, teen would.”

“You don’t see fucking anyone else do it.” Bakugo shook his head.

“...K-kaminari does, sometimes...”

“Yeah, and no one bothers putting Pikachu in his place, somehow. Except for Ears. About fucking time they stopped dancing around the issue and just fucking asked each other out...” Slowly, Bakugo’s head craned down to look at Mineta. The shorter of the boys shrunk despite himself. “Here’s a million-yen question: why do you think that is?”

Mineta wasn’t an idiot – but whether due to some kind of sunk cost fallacy, denial or another factor, it took him a long while to muster an answer. “Uh… ‘cause he’s better-looking?”

“If you’re planning to be a dipshit on purpose, I’m not gonna fucking bother.”

Another moment of silence. “Because he’s not as bad as me.”

“Outstanding, you’ve got basic fucking common sense down pat.” Bakugo groaned and went back to staring at the clouds. “Look, Mineta, I ain’t your fucking babysitter. You think you want out, you give Eraser the paper and that’s that. Or you could just stop being a shitheel.”

“...stop being a shitheel? Like it’s that fucking easy.”

“What, you have it medically checked that you need to feel some chick up bi-daily?”

“That’s not… that’s not it.” Bizarrely enough, Mineta found enough confidence to look at Bakugo – and not shrink from the withering glare that met him. “If I do this now, everyone will just think I’m… buttering them up, or something. I screwed up real bad. Like, can’t say I didn’t. I just...”

“You just what?”

“...dunno.” He finally opted to simply shrug indifferently. “Wish I could explain it any better.”

It seemed emotional talk just wasn’t their strong suit, was it? A Bakugo of old would probably blow Mineta off ten seconds in, and forget the conversation even happened, but his first year in U.A. was nothing if not insightful. One revelation after the other, most of them unwanted, they gave him some measure of experience relating to “not fitting in”.

Mineta’s case was nothing like his – it was stupid, dumb, it was petty and he already wasted so much time on it, he could have very well just try and solve it. “Do you know why League of Shitstains abducted me?” The purple boy blinked, unsure if this was a trick question. Bakugo was silent, letting him answer.

“Uh…” There was a lot of speculation on that part. The media at the time were merciless in pointing out that Bakugo’s conduct was… not very heroic. The Sports Festival was just one display of a feral teenager after the other, right down to U.A.’s number one freshman having to be chained and gagged on the podium. “Guess they thought you’re a villain in the making?” Mineta took a moment to realize that these kinds of words could get him yeeted into the river yet at the very least.

And yet, Bakugo only nodded in confirmation. “That’s about right. Shittygaki threw me a sales pitch, I threw it right back at his fucking drywall face.” His expression softened slightly. “Honest talk, Mineta: did I look like a villain to you then?”

“...kinda.”

“To you, to the League, to the media chasing clicks, to everyone who watched me on TV that Festival.” A long, weary sigh left Bakugo’s lips. “And if the League hadn’t made off with me that fucking night, I’d probably not give a half an ounce of deep-fried shit about it.”

“So… when do we get back to the point…?” This time Bakugo cast him a withering look so hostile, Mineta almost bit his tongue in half.

“The point, you slimy lecherous fuck, is that if you think you can make things right by fucking off like a coward, you have another fucking thing coming.” A finger jabbed Minoru in the forehead. “You fix your fucking problems, you don’t run from them.” Mineta wasn’t sure if Bakugo had his problems fixed, but he knew better than to quip at him right now. And, well… it kind of seemed like the guy was trying to help him, in his own roundabout way.

“You want to be a hero to pick up chicks? Fucking whatever. Earn it. Show the world you’re not just what you look to be.”

“B-but how do I even—“

“That’s on you, dipshit.” Bakugo rose from his seat, stretching in preparation of resuming his jog. He already wasted too much time humoring Mineta’s teen melodrama. “But don’t fucking waste that kind of chance. You got into U.A., the best Hero School in Japan, one of the best in the fucking world. Go the fuck beyond. Apologize for real. Pick up your slack. Stop making pervy comments and grabby hands.”

Mineta was silent, digesting what he was just told. Bakugo made it sound easy, but maybe it really wasn’t that difficult, after all? He had this realization during the bout with Midnight when he tugged knocked-out Sero to the finish line. Heroes didn’t become heroes to be cool – it was instead cool people who were heroes instead, and Mineta had yet to become any cool.

Bakugo didn’t say bye, just resuming his jog without a care in the world, as if he didn’t just run him through an impromptu therapy session. Before he could think this through, he bowed, heedless of the fact the other guy couldn’t see him or the fact that the resignation paper in his jacket crumpled uncomfortably against his chest. “Thanks a ton, Bakugo!”

Bakugo only deigned to flip him off before disappearing in the distance.

----

“Got a moment, Midori?”

Izuku looked up from his Quirk notebook with a raised eyebrow, having just finished putting in some observations regarding the Joint Training they had with 1B almost a month ago – finding out about having seven new prospective quirks did distract him more than enough. Only Ashido called him that, and there she was, looking unusually pensive.

“Uh, sure. What’s up, Ashido-san?”

“Honest talk: did you cast some spell on Mineta or what?” The green-haired boy blinked and tilted his head in confusion. Then he blinked again. Mina bit back a frustrated sigh – Midori could get awful dense sometimes – before she carried on. “You’re… basically his best friend at school. We tried to poke Shinsou about it, too, but he’s got nothing.”

“I, uh… did something happen to Mineta-kun?” He hasn’t really seen him today, true. When Mina replied to his question, her face was a strange mixture of confused, relieved, and spooked.

“He’s… different. Nicer. Way less horny.”

“That sounds like a good thing…?”

“But what happened?!” Mina wasn’t going to let this go, flopping on the couch with a childish pout. “What wizardry did you pull?!”

“I, uh—“

“First thing in the morning he found me and Tooru-chan in the kitchen, bent down in two and began apologizing! I’ve never been so creeped-out in my life!”

“Well, I—“

“Yaomomo showed up a moment later, barely awake and barely conscious and her top was almost slipping off, and you know what Mineta did? He blinked, turned on his heel and left!” Mina looked at Izuku as if she scoured the secrets of the universe. “No whistle, no catcall, didn’t even get within groping range! She didn’t have a bra on, Midori!” She seized his shoulders and shook the freckled boy. Midoriya squeaked. “What did you do?!”

“Ashido? Why are you using Midoriya like a stress ball?” Todoroki asked in confusion, walking onto the scene. Izuku, completely red in the face from both the vivid description and Mina still being physical with him, could only offer another squeak.

“Todoroki, perfect timing!”

“...it is?”

“I’m trying to squeeze the info out of Midori here, what did he do to Mineta. Got any conspiracy theories in mind?” The Fire-Ice user tilted his head in further confusion.

“Well, why do you think it’s Midoriya behind that?”

“I’m not sure who else would have the patience for it, and Midori here’s a saint!” Valid point, that; the freckled boy got along with everyone but Bakugo (and even that was starting to change for the better, however slightly). Todoroki didn’t really not get along with Mineta, so much as he never actually interacted with him much – but he’d seen and heard enough of his exploits to have a general picture as to why Ashido would be so bewildered.

Yet, there was no outlandish theory to be found there. “What about Mineta himself?” He suggested. Mina stared at him as if he grew out a second head. “It’s about time he cleaned up his act, right?”

“That… makes a frightening amount of sense, actually, but...” Todoroki shrugged indifferently.

“If me or Bakugo can clean up their act, then I guess so can Mineta. Better late than never, I guess?”

“Uh, did the other girls comment on it?” Midoriya asked quietly now that Mina finally let him go.

“Ochako-chan and Kyouka-chan are as spooked as I was. Tsu’s just carrying on, and I think Yaomomo is still fast asleep.” For a moment no one says anything, the awkward air slowly permeating the living room. “...I mean, it’s not like I’m unhappy with this, right? Just so we’re clear.”

“You’re just… weirded out?”

“Y-yeah, I guess. Almost feels like he’s trying to play nice to lower our guard or something.” As another moment of awkward silence grew out between them, Izuku felt his eyes wandering – and caught sight of Kacchan leaving in the corner of his eye. It almost looked like he was smiling, and not in his usual feral grin. It felt… strangely serene, and it told the freckled boy enough about Kacchan’s involvement in Mineta’s sudden change.

Their eyes met somehow, and Bakugo’s quiet glower spoke enough. There would not be enough left of Izuku to respectfully bury if this ever got out that 1A’s resident hardass had some heart after all. “...I think I’m with Todoroki-kun on this one.” He found himself smiling despite this brush with death. “Perhaps he really did clean up on his own.”

Notes:

I don't even know.

I had this silly idea, and I decided to put it to work. I'm not sure if the end result is worth it, but with this off my chest I can refocus on other, bigger ideas. Either way, hope you don't mind me putting out these strange streams of consciousness now and then. ^-^;

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