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“Where—is—the—fucking—scale!?” Bakugou slammed the cupboards and drawers he'd opened with each word. He looked everywhere until his gaze landed on a shelf above the sink. “Why is it up there?!”
“Because only Satou bakes,” a voice came from behind him. Startled, Bakugou yelled out and turned to find Uraraka leaning against the kitchen counter. “And, he has his own scale in his room. Things that don’t get used get put in odd places.”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Why aren’t you with your friends or your parents? The dorms are supposed to be empty.”
“I didn’t want to impose.” Uraraka shrugged. “What are you baking?”
“Nothing.”
“I thought you said you don’t bake very often.”
“I don’t.”
Uraraka raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “Are you seriously not going to tell me?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Bakugou grumbled as he climbed onto the counter to reach the scale.
“A surprise?” Uraraka asked sweetly. “Was it for me?”
“Not if you keep asking about it!” Bakugou raged as he jumped off the counter with a scale and measuring utensils in his grasp.
“Can I help?”
“No!”
“Come on,” Uraraka begged. “It’ll be fun!”
Bakugou glared at her and started measuring out flour to sift.
“You have to leave when it’s time to decorate,” Bakugou muttered as he angrily poured the flour into a bowl.
“Decoration? What are we baking?”
Bakugou clenched his jaw as he began sifting. “A cake.”
“A…cake? Are you making me a birthday cake?” Uraraka asked hurriedly.
Bakugou glanced in her direction, and she barely kept her excitement contained. “You are the sweetest—”
“I’m not sweet,” Bakugou interrupted. “We agreed we wouldn’t buy each other gifts.”
Bakugou touched the wooden skull amulet that hung around his neck; she’d carved it for him for Christmas. He was glad they agreed that buying each other shit was out of the question, but he hadn’t expected her to be so thoughtful with her gift. All he had done was make her dinner. It seemed so stupid in retrospect. He always cooked for her. It was nothing special.
“You’re wearing it?” Uraraka asked, seeing his fingers graze the amulet. “I’m so glad you like it! I was worried it wouldn’t mesh with your super cool style.”
“Get out the eggs and milk,” Bakugou instructed. He hated that she thought he wouldn’t like her gift to him. Uraraka must have spent a while on it to get it to match the skull from his favorite shirt. He was shit at showing his true feelings, but he couldn’t let that affect their relationship.
He gritted his teeth as he measured out the baking powder and salt. “I can keep it under my uniform or my hero suit.”
Uraraka set the ingredients next to him and gave him a wide smile. “That’s why I made it! I thought it might come off as kind of cheesy but we’re on the same wavelength.”
“You worry too much.”
“Maybe,” Uraraka said with a giggle and a shrug. “What else do you need?”
Bakugou gave her more things to do and focused on trying not to fuck up the batter. It was cheesy that she’d given him something that would remind him of her when they were apart, but Bakugou treasured it. They’d only been dating a few months. It was proof she actually wanted to be around him when he was still floored that she had agreed to go out with him in the first place.
“So, what kind of cake is it?” Uraraka asked tentatively as Bakugou whisked together the wet ingredients.
“Vanilla.”
“My favorite! It pairs so well with other flavors.”
“I know.”
“So, why did you come to the dorms to make this? I thought it’d just be me until I heard you raging.”
Bakugou scowled and whisked faster, his focus singularly on the batter. “You’re not going to like my answer.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to do this alone.”
“Oh.”
“Everyone, including my parents, always bother me when I cook, and they get in my business,” Bakugou explained but stopped upon seeing Uraraka’s expression. “I wanted to focus on getting this right.”
“Since when have you been worried about if something you make turns out right?”
“Since I fucked up for Christmas.”
“What? I loved your Christmas gift! That fried chicken was delicious.”
“I always make you dinner.”
“So?”
“So, I need to step it up.”
Uraraka smiled softly and touched the hand that was still whisking fervently. He stopped whisking and stared at her fingers. “I’m gonna love whatever you make and if you don’t want me here, that’s fine too. I’m not gonna get mad at you for wanting to bake me things. I believe in positive reinforcement.”
Bakugou let out a singular bark of laughter before pouring what he was whisking into the bowl of dry ingredients. “You can stay for now."
Uraraka cheekily stuck her fingers in the batter when it was fully mixed and popped it in her mouth.
“Hey! There are uncooked eggs in there!” Bakugou scolded.
Uraraka sucked on her finger and danced away from him. “I don’t think a fingertip of batter is going to kill me.” She laughed as she washed her hands.
“Fucking watch you get sick on your birthday,” Bakugou grumbled. Uraraka dried her hands and hopped onto the counter to watch Bakugou pour the batter into cake pans. After he put them in the oven, he started on the frosting.
“You’re making the frosting by scratch?” Uraraka asked in shock.
“Of course I am! I’m not a savage,” Bakugou said. Unfortunately, he didn’t have an electric mixer, but that didn’t stop Uraraka from chiming in as soon as he added the last ingredient.
“Can I mix it?”
Bakugou handed her the bowl full of butter, powdered sugar, vanilla, and heavy cream. Uraraka grabbed the nearest mixing spatula and went at it. Within seconds, powdered sugar was strewn all over the counter, and Uraraka was covered with flecks of partially mixed frosting.
“I didn’t think I’d ever have to say this to you, but calm down,” Bakugou said, holding back a smirk.
“What? It needs to get mixed together. That takes speed and power!”
“And restraint,” Bakugou added. Uraraka smiled and dipped her finger into the frosting. Bakugou glared at her, but she pointed the frosting-covered finger toward him.
“No eggs. You’re free to taste,” she offered.
Bakugou looked down at the frosting. It looked like it was mixed enough. Maybe it needed another minute to get the peaks he wanted. Uraraka wiggled her finger at him, and he leaned down to suck the frosting off it.
“Did I do a good job?” Uraraka asked hopefully. Bakugou nodded and licked his lips.
“Tastes like vanilla frosting,” Bakugou said. Uraraka dipped her finger in the frosting again and stuck it in her mouth.
“Yep! Imagine if it didn’t!” Uraraka laughed and handed the bowl to Bakugou, who discreetly mixed it while Uraraka washed her hands again. She turned around, and Bakugou stood there frozen mid-stroke. Uraraka gasped.
“It needed some more mixing!” Bakugou shouted in defense.
“Don’t worry, I’m not actually offended. I saw your face when I showed you.”
Bakugou scowled as Uraraka took another fingerful of frosting.
“Stop it!” Bakugou ran to the fridge to get the frosting away from her. He gave Uraraka a warning glare as he closed the fridge and leaned against the door. Uraraka wiped her finger on her pants and smiled at him.
“What on Earth are we gonna do while we wait?” Uraraka asked in a suggestive tone. She looked around the room and threw her hands up in mock frustration.
“We’re gonna cut strawberries,” Bakugou said with a knowing smirk.
“What? All work and no play makes Uraraka a sad girlfriend.”
“That’s not how the saying—okay, fine.” Bakugou leaned down and kissed her. Uraraka wrapped her hands behind his head and pulled him down. Normally, he would say no to kissing in common spaces, but they were alone.
“Thank you,” Uraraka breathed, her lips still touching his.
“For?” Bakugou asked.
“For putting in so much effort. It means a lot to me.”
“It’s a cake.” Bakugou scoffed as he leaned away from her. Uraraka lowered her hands and wrapped her arms around his torso. She hugged him tightly as she looked up at him.
“You looked up a recipe, which I know took you forever because you wanted to find the perfect one. You bought all the ingredients, which is kind of like buying a present, but I'll let it slide because I get cake. Though it was likely a lot since you don’t bake—”
“I stole some stuff from Satou’s stash,” Bakugou interjected.
“You asked Satou for ingredients that you didn’t want to buy because you’ll never use them, which I know you hate,” Uraraka revised. Bakugou clicked his tongue at how well she knew him. “You traveled to the dorms and were probably going to stay the night since we’re meeting at our favorite spot tomorrow for breakfast.”
Bakugou thought about the backpack full of his overnight items sitting on the couch. Their favorite spot was near the dorms, and he hadn’t wanted to leave the cake unattended. It would’ve been his luck that one of his dipshit classmates would happen to stumble upon it and eat it without hesitation.
“Even if the cake somehow exploded or you accidentally replaced the sugar with salt, I would still love your present,” Uraraka said. Bakugou lip curled in disdain at the thought that either of those events would cross her mind. Uraraka giggled at his reaction and rubbed circles on his back. “Now, obviously that’s not gonna happen, don’t get angry, but if it did, it wouldn’t matter to me. So, thank you for the wonderful gift.”
Bakugou gulped as she gazed at him with awe and sincerity. She had this nasty habit of making him feel vulnerable and almost nice.
“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.
“Wow, that’s practically another present.” Uraraka grinned. Bakugou rolled his eyes and kissed the top of her head.
“I need to prep the strawberries,” he whispered into her hair.
“Can I help?”
“Are you going to eat them?”
“Of course not,” Uraraka lied.
She had seven while Bakugou cut the tops off and scooped out the middle. Her fingers and lips were red from the fruit. He tried not to think of it as natural lipstick when she pecked his cheek to cover her thievery of another strawberry from the cutting board.
When the timer went off for the cakes, Uraraka checked them with a toothpick. Once she had determined they were done, she pulled them out to put them on the cooling racks she had found hidden in the back of a cupboard.
As the cakes cooled, they discussed Uraraka’s other plans for her birthday the next day. She had dinner with her family, which Bakugou was invited to but he declined. He had her for the entire morning. Uraraka’s parents deserved her for themselves at some point. Tsu was planning a lunch get together with friends later on, which again, Bakugou declined to attend. He spent enough time with the class during school.
“You have a big day tomorrow,” Bakugou said. “Eighteen.”
“I know, right? Doesn’t feel real yet.”
“Go to bed. It’s time for decorating anyway.”
Uraraka closed her eyes and pouted.
“Don’t make a fuss,” Bakugou said. “Go.”
“Fine. I expect cake first thing before breakfast.”
“Fine.”
“Good. Night!” Uraraka grinned, let him go, and opened the fridge. She pulled out the frosting, set it on the counter, dipped her finger in one last time, then skipped off toward the elevator to go to bed.
“Fucking sugar addict,” Bakugou muttered before taking the now-cooled cakes out of their pans. He stayed up way too late decorating that fucking cake. Unbeknownst to Uraraka, he had bought jelly to put between the layers too. He severely underestimated how long it would take to stack the cake, put on a crumb coat, and frost the damn thing to his standards.
Once that was done, he separated out the remaining frosting, dyed some of it pink, and looked up how to make roses. That took ages. Then, he painstakingly decorated the edges and the top with the frosting that was left.
When it was finally finished, he stole a glance at the clock. It was past two in the morning. He stood there, groggily looking at what he’d made for her, and appreciated his work. There wasn’t a strawberry out of place. He wasn’t about to give her a shitty-looking cake for the first birthday they shared as a couple. After cleaning the mess Uraraka had made while mixing, he put the cake in the fridge, slumped onto the couch, and fell asleep in his clothes within seconds.
The next day, Bakugou woke to a soft kiss on his forehead.
“Good morning, sleepy-head,” Uraraka whispered. “How late did you stay up? It’s after ten.”
“Shit.” Bakugou sat up and rubbed the sleep off his face. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. Do you still want to go out for breakfast?”
“What kind of question is that?” Bakugou gave her a look, and Uraraka's eyes squinted as she grinned at him.
“Cake first, remember?”
“I’m not dumb. Close your eyes.”
“Okay!” Uraraka squeezed her eyes shut, and Bakugou had to stifle a laugh at her scrunched up face. He pulled out the candles he had bought from his backpack and set up the cake in the kitchen. When he was ready, he went back over to her and grabbed her hand, pulling her up to her feet.
“Keep ‘em closed.”
“Okay,” Uraraka whispered. She shook with excitement as he led her through the common area. It was apparently contagious as a smile spread across Bakugou’s face.
When she stood in front of her cake, he tapped her shoulder. Uraraka opened her eyes and gasped.
“Oh my goodness,” she murmured. Somehow, tears were already sliding down her cheeks, and he suddenly felt very awkward. Did it look bad? He’d never frosted anything like this before. Uraraka turned toward him, her eyes wet and beginning to swell.
“This must have taken forever. I—I can’t believe you did all of this—how much energy—it’s so beautiful.” Uraraka stumbled around the words, and Bakugou gently wiped away her tears.
“The wax is melting and ruining your cake,” he pointed out.
“My...cake. Oh!” Uraraka turned around and quickly blew out the candles.
“Did you even make a wish?” Bakugou asked with a shake of his head.
“No, I forgot,” Uraraka said, wiping her eyes. “That’s okay. I don’t need anything else.”
“Are you gonna cry all morning or would you like to indulge in the sugar rush I made for you?”
“Sugar, please.”
Bakugou removed the candles and cut her a slice that had at least two strawberries and a frosting rose. Uraraka took the first bite, and stars exploded in her eyes.
“It’s so good! Wow,” she said hungrily and dove into the slice with vigor. “Is that jelly?”
Uraraka ate excitedly as Bakugou cut his own slice.
“You know, this is the first cake I’ve ever made,” Bakugou said nonchalantly. He basked in the glory of Uraraka’s shocked expression.
“That’s not fair! How are you so good at everything you do? What if you made me a cake for every anniversary? Our fifth month anniversary is in a couple weeks. How about then?”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It could be if it meant cake.”
“No.”
“Party pooper.”
“Sugar fiend.”
Uraraka stole a finger of frosting from his slice and sucked it off before Bakugou could stop her.
“You have a whole cake!” Bakugou raged.
“You’re lucky I’m even letting you have a slice. It’s that good.” Uraraka took a bite from his piece. Bakugou’s face fell into a scowl.
“You’re lucky it’s your birthday or I’d fight you. Keep your grubby little hands away from my cake.”
Uraraka silently agreed as she picked another strawberry off her cake.
“Best birthday present ever. A boyfriend who will bake me the best cakes whenever I want them.”
“That’s not what’s happening,” Bakugou said firmly.
“Whenever I want them,” Uraraka repeated with a dreamy smile. “And it’s just gonna get better with practice. I can’t wait to see what else you make!”
Bakugou tried not to show how much the prospect of future cakes meant to him.
“Did you like making it?” Uraraka asked.
“If you’re trying to feel out if you’re getting more cake in the future, while you’re eating cake, I’m gonna have to say you’re being a greedy little sugar-gremlin.”
Uraraka laughed and Bakugou couldn’t deny that he’d bake her a cake anytime she wanted if it meant her showering him with compliments or seeing her eyes light up like that again. He craved that just as much as she craved her sweets.