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Kaminari never thought about what it would feel like to be electrocuted by something other than his own quirk.
But Bakugou Katsuki’s presence? Yeah. That was it’s own kind of lightning strike.
It started off small. A nudge here, an insult there. Kaminari had been used to Bakugou’s explosive temper since day one, but something had shifted. Maybe it was the way Bakugou never actually got mad at him the way he did with the others. Sure, he called Kaminari an “extra” and threatened to blast his face off on a regular basis, but there was a bite missing from his words. Almost like he was holding back.
Weird, right?
So, naturally, Kaminari did what Kaminari does best — he pushed his luck.
“You know, Blasty,” he said one afternoon, flopping onto the couch in the common room. “For someone who acts like he hates me, you sure let me hang around a lot.”
Bakugou, seated next to him with his arms crossed, barely spared him a glance, “Shut up.”
“See? Case in point!” Kaminari grinned, leaning in, “If you really hated me, you’d have blown me up by now.”
Bakugou twitched, “Don’t tempt me.”
But there was no heat to it, Kaminari could tell. And for the first time, he got the insane idea that maybe — just maybe — Bakugou didn’t actually mind having him around.
That theory was tested when, during a training exercise, Kaminari took a hit meant for Bakugou. It wasn’t a big deal — just a light burn on his shoulder — but the second Bakugou realized what had happened, he lost it
“What the hell were you thinking, Dumbass?!”
“I dunno, saving your life?” Kaminari groaned, sitting up on the ground. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Bakugou clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. His whole body was tense, like he was ready to explode — literally. Kaminari had never seen him look so rattled.
“Don’t do that again,” His voice was quieter this time, but no less intense. “Ever.”
Kaminari blinked. “You—” He stopped, something clicking in his brain, “Wait. Are you worried about me?”
Bakugou’s eyes widened before he scowled, turning on his heel. “Tch. Whatever.”
But Kaminari saw through him. And for the first time, he thought maybe the static between them wasn’t just in his head.
The next time they sat together on the couch, Bakugou didn’t move away when Kaminari’s knee knocked against his. And when Kaminari let his head drop onto Bakugou’s shoulder, expecting to be shoved off—
Nothing happened.
Except for the quiet, barely-there sigh from Bakugou as he muttered, “Idiot.”
Kaminari just grinned.
Progress.
Kaminari was playing a dangerous game.
That much he knew. Because ever since that moment — since Bakugou had let him rest his head on his shoulder without shoving him off — Kaminari had been testing his limits.
And Bakugou?
He let him.
Which was insane.
Kaminari had started small. Sitting next to him during meals, dropping casual compliments in the middle of training, purposely leaning against Bakugou’s side whenever he could get away with it.
Bakugou still never stopped him.
Oh, he complained, grumbling about “needy idiots” and “personal space”, but he never actually did anything about it. Never told him to piss off, never pushed him away.
Kaminari was beginning to think he might be onto something.
And then it happened.
A storm had rolled in, cutting the electricity in Heights Alliance. It was nothing major — Aizawa had reassured them the backup generators would kick in soon — but for now, the common area was dark except for the dim glow of emergency lights.
Which is how Kaminari found himself sitting on the couch next to Bakugou, legs tucked under him, blanket draped over his shoulders.
“Man, this sucks!” He sighed dramatically, “No power, no Wi-Fi… We’re practically living in the Dark Ages.”
Bakugou, seated beside him, scoffed, “You can charge your own damn phone. Quit whining.”
Kaminari pouted. “That’s not the point, dude! This is boring.
Bakugou rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, thunder rumbled through the building.
Kaminari flinched.
It wasn’t a big reaction, just a twitch of his shoulders, barely noticeable, but apparently, Bakugo noticed.
Because a second later, Kaminari felt warmth.
Solid. Steady.
He glanced down and almost short-circuited on the spot.
Bakugou’s hand, resting against his knee, casual, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it hadn’t just sent Kaminari’s heart into overdrive.
He swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close they were.
“You scared of storms or somethin’?” Bakugou asked, voice low.
Kaminari shook his head, but his face betrayed him, “Not scared. Just… I dunno, not a fan.”
Bakugou hummed. He still didn’t move his hand.
Kaminari stared at him. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but before he could stop himself, he shifted — just enough to let his fingers brush against Bakugou’s.
A test.
He braced for an explosion. An insult. A something.
But Bakugou didn’t jerk away. Didn’t tell him to cut it out.
Instead, he exhaled. Slow, controlled. And then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world—
He intertwined their fingers.
Kaminari nearly combusted.
His brain short-circuited. His whole body felt like it had been hit with an electric current, but not the usual kind. This was different. Warm. Good.
Bakugou didn’t look at him, just kept his eyes on the storm outside, like this was nothing. Like Kaminari wasn’t about to lose his damn mind over it.
So Kaminari took a breath, let the silence settle, and did what felt right.
He squeezed Bakugou’s hand.
Bakugou squeezed back.
And suddenly, the storm didn’t feel so bad anymore.
Kaminari didn’t know how long they sat like that.
His hand in Bakugou’s. The storm raging outside.
It was surreal. If someone had told him a few months ago that Bakugou Katsuki , the human embodiment of a firecracker, would willingly hold his hand, he would’ve laughed.
But here they were.
And Bakugou wasn’t letting go.
Kaminari didn’t want to push his luck any further. He didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to ruin whatever this was.
Instead, he just sat there, hand warm in Bakugou’s, heart pounding loud enough to rival the thunder outside.
Eventually, the storm died down, and with it, the tension in Bakugou’s shoulders. Kaminari had been stealing glances at him all night, but when Bakugou finally turned his head, ruby eyes flickering with something Kaminari couldn’t quite place. He froze.
“You good?” Bakugou asked, voice gruff.
Kaminari blinked. Was he good? His brain was currently malfunctioning, so the answer was a resounding no, but instead, he forced a lopsided grin.
“Uh, yeah. Totally.”
Bakugou’s gaze lingered, like he didn’t quite believe him. Then, without a word, he gave Kaminari’s hand one last squeeze before finally— finally letting go.
The loss of warmth was immediate. Kaminari tried not to show his disappointment, but judging by the way Bakugou’s eyes narrowed slightly, he failed.
“Tch.” Bakugou crossed his arms, looking away, “You’re so damn obvious.”
Kaminari blinked dumbly, “Huh?”
Bakugou didn’t answer, just pushed himself off the couch and stretched, like nothing had happened. Kaminari scrambled to follow, brain working overtime to process whatever the hell that meant.
But then Bakugou glanced at him again—this time with something dangerously close to a smirk .
And Kaminari knew.
Oh.
This wasn’t one-sided.
The realization haunted him for the next week.
Bakugou knew. Kaminari knew he knew, and yet neither of them addressed it.
It was like an invisible thread had formed between them, tugging Kaminari closer, making every interaction charged.
A lingering glance during training, the way their hands brushed when they sat next to each other, the way Bakugou had started standing just a little too close whenever Kaminari was nearby.
It was driving him insane.
Finally, on a Friday night that was 9 days after that night, Kaminari snapped.
The dorms were mostly quiet — everyone either asleep or holed up in their rooms. Kaminari found Bakugou in the kitchen, drinking from a water bottle, looking entirely too normal for someone who had been tormenting him all week.
Kaminari marched over, planting his hands on the counter.
“Alright, dude. What’s your deal?”
Bakugou raised an eyebrow, “The hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Kaminari groaned, exasperated. “You’ve been acting weird.
Bakugou scoffed. “I don’t act weird, Dunce Face.”
Kaminari pointed an accusing finger. “See?! That! You didn’t even insult me properly! You’re off your game, man.”
Bakugou stared at him. And for a moment, Kaminari thought he was about to get yelled at, maybe even blasted across the room.
But then Bakugou took a step forward.
And suddenly, Kaminari realised just how close they were.
“You really wanna know my deal?” Bakugou murmured.
Kaminari swallowed. “Uh, yes?”
Bakugou leaned in. Just enough to make Kaminari’s breath hitch and just enough for Kaminari to see the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
Then, in a voice so smug it nearly killed Kaminari on the spot, he said:
“You like me.”
Kaminari’s brain blue-screened.
He made a sound — somewhere between a strangled laugh and a dying animal. “Wha— I— Excuse me??”
Bakugou tilted his head, “You heard me.”
Kaminari gaped at him. His face was on fire. “That’s— That’s not—”
Bakugou just smirked. “Told you. Obvious.”
Kaminari wanted to die.
But then — then — Bakugou had the audacity to flick his forehead before turning around and walking off, leaving Kaminari standing there, completely stunned.
WHAT JUST HAPPENED.
He groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Yeah.
Bakugou Katsuki was going to be the death of him.
Kaminari was spiraling.
Like, full-on, out-of-control, gravity-no-longer-exists spiraling.
Because Bakugou knew — Bakugou knew.
And worse? Bakugou was enjoying this.
Ever since the kitchen incident (aka the absolute worst moment of Kaminari’s life) Bakugou had been messing with him. Not outright, of course, because the Bakugou Katsuki would rather die than admit to playing games. But the proof was there.
Exhibit A: Bakugou started invading Kaminari’s personal space more than usual. Not aggressively, but just enough to make Kaminari’s brain short-circuit. It was a brush of shoulders in the hallway, a casual lean against Kaminari’s desk in class, a hand on the small of his back when Bakugou pushed past him.
Exhibit B: Bakugou had started calling him “Sparky.”
Not “Dunce Face.” Not “Extra.” Not “Moron.”
Sparky.
And it wasn’t fair.
Because Kaminari was barely holding on. He was one bad decision away from grabbing Bakugou by the stupid collar of his stupid shirt and kissing his stupid face.
And then, because fate had a horrible sense of humor, the universe threw one final test at him:
Truth or Dare.
It started off innocent enough. Just another Friday night, the class gathered in the common room. Uraraka had suggested a game, Mina had taken it too seriously, and suddenly, half the dorm was involved.
Kaminari had planned on keeping a low profile.
Until Mina happened.
“Alright, Pikachu,” she sing-songed, eyes practically glowing with mischief. “Truth or dare?”
Kaminari hesitated. He knew better than to trust that look, but if he picked truth , he was definitely getting grilled about Bakugou.
So, against his better judgment—
“Dare.”
Ashido beamed, “Kiss someone in the room.”
Kaminari choked.
“W-WHAT?!”
The room erupted. Laughter, whistles, Sero slapping his back like he’d just been sentenced to death.
Kaminari turned red, “Dude, that’s— That’s not fair—”
Ashido just smirked, “You picked dare, babe. Now pay up.”
Kaminari groaned, burying his face in his hands. Okay. Breathe. Think logically. Who can I kiss that won’t make this weird?
Before he could decide, a voice cut through the chaos—
“Tch. Just get it over with, Dumbass.”
Silence.
The entire room went still.
Because Bakugou had spoken.
And he was looking right at Kaminari.
Kaminari’s soul left his body.
Mina’s jaw dropped and Kirishima wheezed, “BRO.”
Kaminari, helpless and overheating, squeaked, “You— Are you serious right now—”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “You gonna sit there all night, or are you gonna do the damn dare?”
Kaminari was malfunctioning.
There was no way Bakugou just— No, this was a trick. A trap. This was just Bakugou messing with him again.
But then he saw it.
The way Bakugou’s ears were red. The way his jaw was tense. The way his fingers twitched like he was forcing himself to look casual.
And Kaminari realized—
Oh my god, he actually wants me to do it.
A new kind of static crawled over Kaminari’s skin, buzzing under his fingertips. It was different from his quirk. It was warmer.
Okay. Screw it.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Kaminari moved.
A quick shift forward. A heartbeat of hesitation.
Then—
A kiss.
It was fast. Barely more than a press of lips. But it was real.
And it was Bakugou.
For half a second, Kaminari swore he felt Bakugou lean in. But then—
BOOM.
Bakugou jerked back, face burning, palms sparking.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”
Kaminari yelped, throwing his hands up. “YOU TOLD ME TO—”
“NOT LIKE THAT, IDIOT—”
“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!”
The others lost it. Sero was on the floor, Uraraka and Jirou were screaming, and Kirishima looked like he had witnessed God.
Kaminari, still recovering from heart failure, locked eyes with Bakugou.
And then—
Bakugou stormed off.
Silence.
Then, Mina, absolutely delighted: “Ohhhh my god, you broke him.”
Kaminari slumped onto the couch.
Yeah.
This was not over.
Kaminari was dead.
Not literally, but emotionally? Spiritually? But socially? Oh yeah, he was done for.
Because he had kissed Bakugou. In front of everyone.
And Bakugou had stormed out.
Kaminari groaned, slumping further into the couch as Mina replayed the scene for the fifth time.
“I mean, the way his whole brain just shut down—”
Kirishima was still recovering and wiped a tear from his eye. “Dude. I have never seen Bakugou run away from something before. You actually broke him, Denki!”
Jirou smirked. “So, you gonna go after him or what?”
Kaminari choked. “HUH?!”
Sero laughed, nudging him. “C’mon, dude. He was so into it. You saw his face.”
Kaminari had seen his face. He had seen everything. The way Bakugou’s eyes had widened just a fraction, the way his fingers had twitched against his knee, the way—
Nope. Not thinking about it. Not thinking about how soft Bakugou’s lips had been or how he had felt the slightest bit of warmth before Bakugou had panicked and combusted.
“Y’all are crazy,” Kaminari muttered, standing up. “I’m going to bed.”
Mina grinned, “You mean you’re gonna go find Bakugou.”
Kaminari pointed at her. “Shut.”
Then he left.
Kaminari had no plan.
None.
But his feet moved anyway.
Straight to Bakugou’s dorm.
He hesitated in front of the door. Because if Bakugou didn’t feel the same way — if Kaminari had just made the biggest mistake of his life — this was gonna end in flames.
Literally.
But if Bakugou did?
Kaminari exhaled and then knocked once.
Silence.
He knocked again, “Yo. You in there?”
He was faced with more silence. Kaminari was about to give up when—
Click.
The door swung open, and there he was.
Bakugou Katsuki.
Arms crossed, expression flat, but his ears? They were still red.
Kaminari swallowed. “Uh, hey.”
Bakugou narrowed his eyes before snarking, “What do you want?”
Kaminari shifted, suddenly very aware of the weight of the moment.
Because this? This was it.
He could brush it off. Laugh, and pretend it was just a dare and go back to normal.
Or—
Kaminari took a breath.
“I just wanted to— y’know. Make sure we’re cool?”
Bakugou stared at him, then scoffed. “We’re fine, Dumbass.”
Kaminari frowned. “Okay, but, like… you literally ran away—”
“I didn’t run,” Bakugou spat.
“Bro, you sprinted.”
Bakugou ticked, “Shut up.”
Kaminari huffed. “Look, man, if you’re mad, just say it. I won’t—”
“I’m not mad.”
Kaminari froze.
Bakugou sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…” He paused, visibly struggling, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Kaminari bit his lip. “Yeah. Me neither.”
Bakugou glanced at him. And for once, Kaminari saw something unguarded in his eyes.
A crack in the usual fire.
“You…” Kaminari licked his lips, nervous. “You’re really not mad?”
Bakugou exhaled sharply, like the words physically hurt. “No, Dumbass.”
Something warm bloomed in Kaminari’s chest.
He grinned, “Sooo… does that mean I can do it again?”
BOOM.
The door slammed in his face.
From inside: “GO TO HELL.”
Kaminari cackled.
Yeah.
They were so not done.
Kaminari was having the time of his life.
Because ever since the incident (aka The Kiss That Broke Bakugou Katsuki™) Bakugou had been acting… off.
Not in an angry way. More like a short-circuiting computer kind of way. Like a dumb Kaminari Denki way.
Every time Kaminari got too close? Bakugou would stiffen like someone had set him to sleep mode.
Every time Kaminari has so much as looked at him for too long? Bakugou would turn red and aggressively look away.
Plus, he hadn’t called Kaminari ‘Dunce Face’ in days.
Kirishima had noticed, and so had the rest of the Bakusquad.
And, naturally, Mina was losing her mind.
“Okay, but hear me out,” she said one afternoon, perched on the couch in the common room. “What if you kissed him again?”
Kaminari, lounging across from her, grinned. “What, like a science experiment?”
“Exactly.” She threw her hands in the air. “For research!”
Kirishima snorted, “Dude, I don’t think his heart can take it.”
Sero nodded solemnly in agreement. “The first one almost killed him.”
Jirou smirked, flipping a page in her music notebook. “I dunno. Sounds like a worthy sacrifice.”
Kaminari laughed, stretching his arms behind his head, “I mean, it’d be fun watching him combust again, but if I push too hard, he might actually kill me.”
Mina hummed. “Or maybe he’d finally just kiss you back.”
Kaminari huffed and threw a pillow at her and changed the subject.
But now?
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Would Bakugou kiss him back?
Kaminari groaned into his hands. He was in too deep. This was supposed to be a fun little crush — just some dumb feelings for his grumpy, explosive, ridiculously attractive friend. But now it was real. Now it was all-consuming.
And the worst part?
Bakugou knew.
And he was avoiding him.
Not in an obvious I’m-never-speaking-to-you-again way. Bakugou still sat next to him in class, still trained with him, still argued with him over stupid things.
But the little things were gone.
No more lingering touches or playful insults or soft moments when Bakugou thought no one was looking.
It was like he had shut down.
And Kaminari hated it.
After two days of this, he snapped.
It was late. Most of the dorm was asleep, except for a few night owls still in the common room.
Kaminari found the man in question in the kitchen, refilling his water bottle like everything was perfectly normal that and he wasn’t driving Kaminari insane.
Not today, Blasty.
Kaminari marched in, planting his hands on the counter.
“Alright, dude. What’s your deal?”
Bakugou didn’t even look at him. “The hell are you talking about?”
Kaminari scowled, “You’ve been acting weird.”
Bakugou scoffed back, “I don’t act weird.”
“Oh, really?” Kaminari folded his arms. “So, you avoiding me is totally normal?”
At that, Bakugou’s grip on his water bottle tightened.
Kaminari narrowed his eyes. “See? That. You’re doing it right now.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” Kaminari stepped closer, voice softer now. “Dude. Did I… mess something up?”
Bakugou froze. “What?”
Kaminari scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, with the kiss. I dunno, man, you’ve been acting off ever since, and if I overstepped or made things weird, I—”
“Shut up.”
Kaminari blinked.
Bakugou gritted his teeth and mumbled, “You didn’t mess anything up.”
Kaminari tilted his head. “Then what’s the problem?”
Bakugou was silent.
For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the fridge.
Then—
“You’re an idiot.”
Kaminari raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay?”
Bakugou exhaled sharply, glaring at the floor like it had personally offended him.
“I’m not avoiding you because of the damn kiss,” he muttered. “I’m avoiding you because—” He clenched his jaw, “Because I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”
Kaminari’s heart stuttered.
“Oh.”
Bakugou scoffed, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah, oh.”
Something unspoken passed between them.
Kaminari took a breath. “So, uh… What do we do about that?”
Bakugou looked away, ears turning red, “Tch. Hell if I know.”
Kaminari watched him for a moment. The crossed arms, the clenched jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out but didn’t know how.
Oh.
Oh.
Kaminari smiled.
Then, slowly — carefully — he reached out and tugged on the sleeve of Bakugou’s hoodie.
The way Bakugou’s breath hitched?
Yeah, that was everything.
“You could start by kissing me back,” Kaminari teased, voice light but heart pounding.
Bakugou flinched. “Wha—”
“I mean,” Kaminari smirked, “Just a suggestion. Since you clearly—”
And Bakugou did. Fast, sudden — like an explosion.
Kaminari barely had time to react before Bakugou was pulling away, face on fire.
“There,” Bakugou grumbled, scowling at the wall. “Happy now?”
Kaminari, still processing, blinked. Then he grinned, “Dude, you totally like me.”
Bakugou groaned, “Shut the hell up.”
But Kaminari just laughed, because Bakugou still wasn’t letting go.
Kaminari had imagined a lot of ways this could go.
Maybe Bakugou would shove him and pretend nothing happened, maybe he’d blow something up and stomp out of the room, or maybe he’d straight-up deny everything, call Kaminari a dumbass, and go back to avoiding him.
But this?
This was so much better.
Because Bakugou still hadn’t let go.
They were still standing there, Kaminari’s fingers curled around Bakugou’s sleeve and Bakugou’s hand gripping the front of Kaminari’s hoodie like he was debating whether to punch him or pull him closer.
And yeah, Kaminari was thriving.
“You kissed me,” he said, grinning.
Bakugou’s eye twitched, “No shit, Sherlock.”
“Like, on purpose.”
Bakugou groaned. “Oh my god—”
“With feeling.”
Bakugou exploded. Not literally, but he shoved Kaminari against the counter, hands fisting his hoodie, and snarled, “Say one more thing and I’ll kill you.”
Kaminari, still grinning like an idiot, leaned in. “Dude. If you wanted to kiss me again, you could’ve just said that.”
Bakugou twitched and his grip tightened.
And then—
He did.
This time, it wasn’t fast and desperate like the first one. This time, Bakugou lingered.
Kaminari barely had time to process the warmth of it before Bakugou was tugging him closer, tilting his head, deepening the kiss like it was a challenge.
Kaminari melted, because Bakugou kissed the way he did everything else — intense, unrelenting, all-in.
Kaminari’s hands found Bakugou’s waist, fingertips sparking involuntarily. Bakugou shivered against him but didn’t pull away.
He didn’t run, he didn’t explode.
Just kissed him.
And holy hell, Kaminari was so gone for him.
They eventually pulled apart, both breathless.
For a second, neither of them spoke. They just stared at each other, faces flushed, hands still gripping each other’s clothes.
Then Kaminari, because he couldn’t help himself, whispered, “So, uh… You like me, huh?”
Bakugou dropped his forehead onto Kaminari’s shoulder and groaned.
Kaminari laughed.
“Shut up, Sparky.”
Yeah, this was so much better.
The thing about kissing your explosive, hotheaded crush in the middle of the kitchen?
It kinda… changed everything.
Kaminari wasn’t complaining. Not even a little bit.
But Bakugou?
Bakugou was struggling.
Hard.
Not in the oh my god what have I done kind of way. More like the oh my god what do I do now kind of way.
Because after the kiss — the very good, very real, very intense kiss — Bakugou hadn’t said anything. He just stood there, face pressed against Kaminari’s shoulder, suffering.
And Kaminari, being the absolute menace that he was, decided to let him.
For, like, a minute.
Then he cleared his throat, “Sooo…”
Bakugou grumbled something against his hoodie.
“What was that?” Kaminari teased. “Did you just admit you like me?”
Bakugou’s fists clenched. “Shut the hell up, Denki.”
Kaminari beamed.
This was much better than he had ever allowed himself to imagine it would be.
For the next two days, things were… weird.
Not bad weird. Just… different.
Because Bakugou didn’t go back to ignoring him. If anything, he was always there now.
Kaminari would walk into the common room? Bakugou was already on the couch.
Kaminari went to train? Bakugou was suddenly his sparring partner.
Kaminari reached for something in the fridge? Bakugou snatched it first and shoved it into his hands without a word.
It was cute.
It was also hilarious.
Because Bakugou clearly had no idea how to handle this.
Kirishima noticed first.
“You good, man?” The redhead asked the ash blonde after the third time he accidentally sat next to Kaminari at breakfast.
Bakugou, mid-chew, scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Kirishima smirked, “You’ve been acting… different.”
“Yeah,” Sero chimed in, grinning. “Like, super clingy.”
Bakugou choked on his food.
Kaminari patted his back, trying so hard not to laugh.
“I am NOT clingy,” Bakugou barked, still coughing.
Kirishima and Sero shared a look.
Kaminari couldn’t take it anymore.
He turned to Bakugou, all wide-eyed and innocent. “Wait… do you actually like me or do you just really enjoy my company now?”
Bakugou snarled as his brain crashed.
“YOU—” He stood up so fast his chair fell over.
Sero howled and Kirishima wheezed.
Kaminari? He just winked.
“Just saying, babe,” He teased. “You might as well admit it.”
Bakugou huffed and snapped angrily, ears flushed red and fists clenched.
To Kaminari, there was nothing better than this.