Chapter Text
“What in the ever loving fuck are you watching?”
Bakugou Katsuki’s thunderous and, frankly, offended growl broke through the delightful bubble of soft, tinkering music and mild innuendos that Kaminari had cultivated around himself.
He fixed Bakugou with a scandalised glare, “You can’t swear in front of Mary Berry, Kacchan!”
Bakugou visibly bristled at his boldness, “Who the fuck is Mary Berry?”
“She’s an absolutely delightful British baking genius and you’re ruining my bubble.”
Kaminari Denki was clearly a man unafraid of death.
Bakugou scoffed at the screen as he ignored Kaminari’s shooing hands, “She’s a freaking grandma.”
“I’d say she’s more like your rich, strict aunt who doesn’t let you touch any of her expensive ornaments but still slips you sweets under the dinner table,” Mina contributed as she flopped onto the sofa next to Kaminari with a bucket of popcorn tucked into her elbow.
“Shh, we’re missing the technical bake!”
“The freakin’ what now?”
“Sit down and watch it with us, Blasty!” Mina offered cheerfully, patting the cushion next to her.
“I’m not wasting my time watching this crap!” Bakugou barked back, though didn’t make to move, staring at the screen viciously.
“SHHHHH.” Kaminari whispered frantically, practically on the edge of his seat.
“ This week, the Technical Challenge is going to be a treacle tart with a woven lattice top. This is Mary Berry’s reci…”
“Why do they look so whiney and scared?” Bakugou practically screamed from his standing position next to Mina - he hadn’t moved a muscle since Kaminari had hushed him, and the other two had almost forgotten he was there. His sudden exclamation had the pair jumping and losing a good handful of popcorn down the creases of the sofa.
“Aw man, Bakugou,” Mina whined, brushing popcorn dust off her lap, “Class Pres is gonna freak at this mess.”
“They’re supposed to be bakers, for fuck’s sake,” Bakugou continued, looking absolutely outraged. “A treacle tart with a woven lattice top isn’t freaking difficult.”
“I mean, they don’t have a full recipe in front of -”
“ These losers shouldn’t need one!”
The challenge continued. As the contestants grew more and more flustered and made more and more mistakes, Bakugou inched closer and closer to the screen.
“ No, that’s not how you blind bake a… fucking hell, how does this country even function with these mo… no. No! Don’t do that to your treacle, you assho-”
“Mina,” Kaminari whispered, his legs tucked up to his chin defensively, “I’m worried he’s gonna blow the screen up.”
Mina tossed some popcorn into her mouth and flitted between watching their friend’s sparking palms and the drama on the screen. “Isn’t it great?”
“You’re gonna present that to the judges? Have some self-respect!”
By the end of the episode, Bakugou had ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his nose practically pressed up against the TV screen.
“Uh,” Kaminari craned his head to try and see the showstopping bakes the contestants were presenting. “Enjoying yourself down there, Blasty?”
“Some of these ‘people’ should be too embarrassed to go home to their families after that mess. I would disown them.”
“That’s the spirit, Bakubabe!” Mina cheered, tossing a handful of popcorn over when he held his hand out expectantly, without breaking his attention from the judge’s comments.
“I’d like to see you do better under that much pressure,” Kaminari mumbled to himself.
It was the wrong thing to say.
Bakugou turned to face him slowly, his face nothing short of demonic.
“Is that a fucking challenge , Dunce-Face?”
Kaminari froze. An idea had just come to him. A great idea. An idea that would go down in history. An idea that would become a tradition, handed down to all the years following them.
“Oh my God, we should do our own dorm bake off!” He exclaimed, jumping up in excitement.
***
“ Absolutely not.” Aizawa intoned before Kaminari had even finished explaining his proposal.
His face fell, “Why not!?”
His teacher sighed, the bags under his eyes seemingly growing heavier by the second. “Okay, first of all: twenty of you hellions in the kitchen? Using knives? No.” Kaminari opened his mouth to argue, but Aizawa spoke over him before he could even get a breath in. “Second of all. Bakugou in a baking competition with Midoriya and Todoroki in the room? That kitchen is brand new; I don’t want to have to explain to Nezu why we’re going to have to cash in the building insurance less than six months after opening the dorms.
Third of all. I have a life. I quite like my life. I don’t want to lose that life sampling whatever poisons your class presents me to judge.”
“Aw, but sir-”
An excited voice broke off his complaint. Midnight suddenly popped up behind Aizawa like a flower in spring.
“A baking competition?” she squealed, “Oh, how delicious. How enticing. I volunteer to co-judge along with Shouta!”
“No, Nemuri, that’s not-”
“Yeah, Ms. Midnight!” Kaminari whooped, “We’d love to have you onboard as a co-judge!”
“ No-”
“ Yes!” Midnight groaned, “Oh, imagine. All those baked goods. All those stiff peaks. So much sugar to lick from the-!”
“And this is exactly why I don’t -”
“Thank you so much, both of you!” Kaminari exclaimed excitedly, “Let me check the others’ schedules and I’ll let you know a date and time!”
And with that, he dashed off, shutting the staff room door on Aizawa’s appalled face.
***
“A baking competition? That sounds great, you guys!” Satou said with a good-natured grin, as he whisked whatever was in his large mixing bowl.
Within seconds, the mixing bowl was in large shards on the floor, as Bakugou valiantly tried to tower over the much larger student.
“Oh, you think you’re the best baker here? Just ‘cause you’ve got some fancy oven in your room and you need cakes and shit for your pathetic quirk?”
“Um… Bakugou?” Kirishima held out a hesitant hand, debating whether to try and pull his friend away or not. “I don’t think-”
“I’ll beat you!” he spat, “I’ll prove to everyone I’m the best damn baker in this whole school!”
“Um, okay,” Satou replied, looking bemused, “May the best person win?”
“Oh,” Bakuogu snarled, another demonic grin crawling across his face, “They will.”
***
“Midoriya.”
Izuku jumped about a foot out of his skin with a yelp. He whipped around in his chair where he had been writing up notes from lessons earlier that day.
“Todoroki!” he exclaimed. “How long have you been standing there?”
Todoroki stared at him unblinkingly. “I have a question.”
“Sure,” Izuku closed his notebook and moved his chair around so he was facing his friend directly. “Sounds serious - are you okay?”
“I’ve been doing some research.”
Izuku frowned. “Oh? What about?”
“Midoriya.” Todoroki took a seat on the sofa behind him, looking very intently into Izuku’s eyes. “How do I ensure that my bottom is not soggy?”
Izuku blinked.
“...Pardon me?”
“How do I ensure that my bottom is not soggy?”
Izuku paused, his jaw loose.
“Are you talking about…”
“The baking competition, yes.”
Izuku felt a wave of relief crash through him, as his cheeks simultaneously burned, “Oh! You’re talking about cake!”
Todoroki frowned. “What else would I be talking about, Midoriya?”