Thanks for having me [Christmas Eve 2k19]

The entire class had been buzzing for weeks. It had taken a lot of pleading, but eventually Aizawa had caved, and Class 3-A had been allowed their winter holiday party. 

Originally they'd asked to use the classroom, but Aizawa had refused that idea right away on the grounds that they would end up destroying it and not cleaning up after themselves. They'd begged for days, explaining that they would do it outdoors but the weather had shot that idea down too, and that they would use the dorm common area but it was just too small with everything that was in it, especially if they wanted to invite the other first years to join them. 

They realised how much Aizawa really, truly liked his students when he walked into the classroom on the last Monday of the year, holding a slip of paper signed by himself and the Principal.

"You have the rest of your homeroom time to go over this contract together and make sure you agree to it. If you all agree to abide by the rules we've set out, Iida and Yaoyorozu can sign on your behalf, and we'll allow you to use the small training hall. I don't trust you to keep the big one clean and undamaged, but maybe you can handle the small one."

"Aren't the halls designed to withstand all our quirks?" Kirishima pointed out. "You think we're gonna damage something?"

"I've been with you students for the better part of three years, I know you will find a way to damage something."

Every eye turned to Bakugou, but he didn't bother to answer, focussed instead on a textbook that lay open on his desk. It wasn't like him to not argue back, wasn't like him to avoid a fight, but when his eyes darted up for a moment they all quickly realised why.

"What, assholes?" he growled. "Leave me out of your shit, I'm trying to read."

Bakugou wasn't the most social of their classmates, after all. It was no surprise that he wasn't getting involved in the excitement. He'd been dragged pretty begrudgingly into their school festivals over the years, had escaped as quickly as he could from any celebration he was roped into, but this was their last winter as classmates – surely he was going to celebrate the holidays with them?

"I'm not coming," he said flatly, when Ashido sat herself down on the edge of his desk, swinging her feet as she prodded at him with her words and her hands alike. "Leave me out of it."

"You have to!" she insisted, watching Kirishima leap out of his chair to join them. "Blasty, it's our last Christmas together!"

"It's Christmas," Bakugou pointed out stubbornly. "It's just a dumb holiday that other places celebrate and assholes here use it as an excuse for parties. I hate parties."

"But Bakugou, it's our last one," Kirishima insisted. "You show up to our little ones, why not a big one just this once?"

"I never showed up to shit. You assholes held them in our living room and then dragged me into it."

"Don't you want presents?! You gotta come get presents!"

"Haah? I don't give a shit about that shit."

"Bakugou, cut it out," Aizawa sighed. "None of that language in class. Ashido, get off the desk. Both of you go back to your seats and take this seriously, you're not getting your party unless you agree to the rules we've set out."

"Sorry, Sensei!" Ashido jumped up quickly, hurrying back to her desk. "It's okay Kiri, we'll convince him later."

Their plans were ruined when they showed up to an empty dorm room that afternoon, ready to nag and goad and potentially beg. He'd beaten them at their own game, had made his escape before they could get to him, and Kirishima suspected he wouldn't be back until he was ready for bed.

"I don't see why it's such a big deal," Kirishima whined, as they trudged back down the stairs. "He always shows up when we ask him! What changed?!"

"He says he doesn't like big parties, maybe he just thinks it'll be too many people for him? We did talk about inviting other classes."

"Aizawa-sensei was pretty adamant about keeping it under control," Midoriya pointed out, smiling faintly as they joined him in the living room. "He's not exactly good at that, he wouldn't want to ruin it for everyone that's so excited about that party."

"Bakugou? Thinking about the rest of us?" Ashido laughed, "Midoriya, you think too much of the guy."

"Kacchan thinks about everything," he shrugged, looking back to his laptop screen. "He just isn't very good at talking about it?"

"Maybe we should ask him," Ashido mused. "He might tell us the problem if we ask in the right way."

"He won't," Kirishima sighed. "Midoriya is right, he doesn't talk about any of this stuff. If anything, we're gonna have to trick him into it. Make him think it was his own idea, you know?"

"That's gonna be easier said than done," Ashido slumped in her seat, folding her arms. "He's too smart for that."

"Well then let's start brainstorming!"

They dug out a sheet of paper and some pens, drafting up ideas that got more and more ludicrous as time went on. Midoriya weighed in on a couple, along with various passers-by from the rest of the class, but by the time the night grew dark and their stomachs began to growl, they had to concede that ultimately, they really had nothing.

"So our options are 'call him a coward for not wanting to go, avoid getting blown up, hope he takes the bait and doesn't realise what we're doing'; 'convince him the party won't be the same without him and that he's the glue holding us all together, hope his superiority complex is enough to buy it'; or somehow come up with a way to trick him into going, which we still have zero ideas on. Is that about right?"

"Yeah," Ashido sighed. "Let's sleep on it and try again tomorrow."

Midoriya couldn't quite keep his face steady when he heard the words "superiority complex", his smile wobbling a little as he remembered a fight that felt like so long ago and just yesterday all at the same time, the crack of a voice that was normally so strong, the tears spilling from eyes normally narrowed and stern. He would never dare to tell anyone else, never dream of letting anyone in on their private moment, but so often that image returned to his head when people were talking about arrogance or cockiness.

He'd grown since then, though. Not physically – he was still his same little one-seventy-something self while his friends had shot up around him, although he'd packed on a little more muscle. Mentally, though? Emotionally? He'd soared to new heights, even if the people around him refused to see it sometimes. His friends saw it, that was the most important thing. His parents saw it, though they didn't dare to mention it in front of him. His teachers saw it for sure, All Might and Aizawa were endlessly proud of him. But civilians? Other heroes? Most of the other students at his school? They still refused to acknowledge his growth.

As the dorm began to wind down for the night, people cooking and showering and getting ready to sleep, Bakugou still remained in the student gym, working up a sweat with the free weights then cooling it down with a ride on the stationary bikes, sat back with a book in his hands to read as he worked. It was silent around him – the students who deigned to come on their own time tended to stick with mornings and weekends, maybe straight after class for a small few. It was rare to see anyone there in the evenings, and while Bakugou didn't much enjoy it himself, he did like the sense of quiet and privacy he got there when he needed some alone time.

"Have you eaten yet, Bakugou?"

He looked up to see Aizawa in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watched Bakugou pedal steadily.

"Not yet, wanted to get in a quick workout first."

"Quick meaning four hours?" Aizawa asked, watching Bakugou scowl. "What are you hiding from?"

"I don't hide from anything," he scowled. "I just wanted a break, alright? Isn't that why this place exists?"

"This place exists to support your efforts in training as a hero. I'm glad you've made good use of it over the years, but it is not supposed to take the place of proper communication."

"Whatever," Bakugou grumbled, climbing off the bike and cleaning the seat with a disinfectant wipe. "And you came here for what, you use the student facilities to work out too? Somehow I doubt that."

"I came here to check if you'd eaten," Aizawa shrugged. "I'm going to assume that's a no."

"It's a no," he admitted. "I'll make something when our kitchen clears out. They should be done soon, except the Bird Face but he's quiet enough."

"I'm taking you out for dinner, don't tell your classmates I'm playing favourites."

"What?"

"Go grab a shower and get changed, I'll wait."

Bakugou considered saying no, but he'd spent enough time with Aizawa over the years to be okay with it – the man had pretty good taste in food, and Bakugou didn't often turn down a free meal.

He showered in a hurry and threw his school uniform back on, and sure enough Aizawa was waiting when he returned, sat on one of the machines with his phone in his hand and his usual impassive look on his face.

"Come on," he spoke up, before Bakugou got a chance to say anything. "I feel like ramen. I know a place that does spicy ones."

"Sure."

They walked in near silence, Aizawa leading the way and Bakugou keeping pace at his side. It was maybe the biggest reason he was okay with Aizawa, maybe even liked him if you asked him on a good day. Not only did he understand Bakugou, and actually help him and support him rather than yelling at him to change who he was, but he didn't feel the need to make annoying small talk all the time, and that was a massive bonus to Bakugou.

They found two seats at a little store down a narrow side street and Aizawa handed over a wad of cash when they placed their orders. It wasn't until their food arrived and the customers before them cleared out that Aizawa finally broached the subject he'd come for.

"So you're not going to their Christmas party, huh?"

"It's stupid," Bakugou said stubbornly, slurping at his noodles. "Who cares?"

"It wouldn't be the first time you went to an event you thought was stupid. You've spent these years building a relationship with your future colleagues, learning to get along with people you might have to fight with later, so why is this event such an exception?"

"Because that shit is stupid, I told you. It's not like anyone wants me there anyway."

They fell silent, working away at their bowls of noodles instead of continuing the awkward discussion, but the words continued to ring in Aizawa's head. It had taken less than a year for him to understand how Bakugou's brain really worked, to see the anxiety and loathing he hid away so carefully with his attitude and volume. Now he'd had almost three, so it would have been impossible to not understand the self-deprecation. Even an idiot could hear it in his voice, and Aizawa was no idiot. Not when it came to his students.

"It's the holiday season," Aizawa pointed out finally. "If you don't want to attend their party, maybe you could do something else for them. Show them that it's not because you hate them, so you don't ruin your relationships right before graduation."

"That shit is just as stupid," he grumbled. "What the hell would I even do?"

"Something nice? Spirit of the season and all. Who knows? It was just a thought."

"Whatever," Bakugou blushed, looking away stubbornly. "I don't care what any of them think."

"Yeah, I know."

─────

When Midoriya showed up to class on their last day, he was surprised to find a shiny parcel sitting on his desk. In fact, as he looked around, he saw shiny parcels on just about every desk. Some of the seats were already occupied, hands already tearing into their packages, others were still lying in wait for their owners to claim.

"What's this?" he asked, turning to look at Kirishima and Sero with their own little gifts across the aisle. "Where did these come from?"

"Dunno! No notes!" Sero shrugged, already opening his sack of bright, pretty oranges, each wrapped with a bow of sticky tape. "We just came in and found them waiting!"

"Yeah! Look at this!" Kirishima leaned forward a little to grin at him from his own desk, waving a new set of bright red training weights. "Whoever left them knows us all too well, maybe one of the teachers?"

"Too early for Aizawa-sensei," Midoriya mused, flipping his flat package over in his hands to inspect the other side. "He'll still be asleep right now. Maybe All Might? But he's more the type to just barge in and throw them at us rather than leave them in secret."

"It's a mystery! An exciting Christmas mystery!" Uraraka grinned, throwing her arm around Midoriya's shoulders to show off a fancy box of mochi treats and a giftcard to her favourite cafe. "Maybe they'll reveal themselves at the party?"

"Maybe," Midoriya agreed, as the bell rang and the last of their classmates hurried into the room, the discussion beginning all over again. "We can talk about it at lunch!"

As Iida began to read off the daily notices, Midoriya tucked his gift into his backpack for later. He would open it at lunch or between classes, he couldn't bring himself to do it while his friend was up doing his job. Other people were playing with their gifts or rustling under their desks as they opened them, but Midoriya did his best to sit up and smile at Iida as he spoke, making sure his friend knew he was paying attention, even if some of the others weren't.

Classes came and went, their gifts the topic of discussion between every one – no one was admitting to being the gifter, no one was even trying to take credit. He was a little surprised by that, honestly. He'd expected someone like Kaminari or Sero to even jokingly try to claim it was them, but everyone was too enraptured by the mystery to risk the distraction.

"What did you get, Midoriya?" Iida asked, when they gathered for lunch. "I got a very nice leather planner, it was rather lovely. I wish I knew who it was so I could thank them."

"Oh, actually, I haven't opened mine yet," he admitted. "I didn't have time before school, and I didn't want to do it during class. Should I do it now?"

"Yeah!" Uraraka insisted. "Let us see!"  

He pulled out the pretty red package as they sat down with their food, both of them leaning over to look as he peeled off the tape. He unveiled a set of pretty, hard-cover notebooks, running his hand over the top one slowly and admiring the smooth fabric that bound it.

"Wow, they're so nice!" he marvelled. "I always end up using cheap things from the hundred yen store, these are beautiful! I'm gonna use them to compile my best hero notes!"

"Someone knows you well," Uraraka teased. "They've seen all your ratty ones that are falling apart from being dragged around with you, huh?"

"Was it one of you?"

"No! I swear!" Uraraka shook her head. "I would just give them to everyone personally!"

"Me too," Iida agreed. "I don't see a reason to hide it."

Midoriya wondered if he was the only one who realised how much those words really meant, eyes darting over to where a group of their classmates fawned over their gifts, one lone scowl brushing them off when they pried for answers.

"Stress ball," the grumpy voice answered, when he got tired of them asking questions. "Explosion-proof."

"Oh, that's so cute!"

At their insistence, he pulled out a little red ball with a frowny face on it, squeezing it a few times as they watched. Somehow, it didn't quite add up in Midoriya's head. All the other gifts had been so thoughtful, and as far as he could tell, they were fairly expensive, too. His top suspects had been Todoroki and Yaoyorozu, for the costs involved, but there was no reason for Yaoyorozu to hide it when asked, unless it was some kind of strange secret santa game? Todoroki was more likely to hide it, out of sheer awkwardness, and yet it would have taken such an intimate level of knowledge about their classmates to procure all the thoughtful gifts, and Midoriya just didn't see Todoroki having that. About some of them, sure, but all of them? No way.

Maybe it was a joint effort, the two of them had been spending more time together lately, after all. Everyone had just assumed one or other of them had a crush or something, but maybe they had been planning the secret little gifts together.

But now, there was a third subject in Midoriya's mind. Someone who would never dream of giving anyone a gift face to face, who had access to enough money as long as he was willing to ask his father for it and face the teasing it might bring about, who held a toy Midoriya was sure he'd seen weeks ago, when he stopped by a dorm room that was rarely opened to guests.

By the time classes ended, Midoriya was just as invested in the mystery as everyone else. Still no one had owned up to it, and he suspected they never would. Half of his classmates had suggested they just leave it be, just enjoy the gifts and let the culprit keep the anonymity they clearly desired. The other half had turned into the U.A. detective agency, interviewing everybody one by one and searching for clues around the building. As much as he agreed with the first group, Midoriya couldn't help but listen in to the clues from the latter.

"Iida, you were in class first, right?" Midoriya asked, as they walked back to the dorms. "You must have seen someone there before everyone else."

"Not at all, Midoriya," Iida answered quickly, waving his hands in a near frantic motion. "I saw nothing! No one!"

"I just really want to thank them. They were such beautiful gifts, and I can't wait to put all my notes together in my sturdy new books. I have a few suspicions, but it would be nice to thank them directly, you know?"

"Now, Midoriya, if our classmate wishes to be anonymous in this, don't you think we should respect that?"

"I do," he agreed. "But it doesn't stop me being curious."

"I understand! I myself am curious, I am very interested to know why they decided to get everyone gifts all of a sudden, but as the class representative I must respect the privacy of my fellow students!"

"I understand."

When he reached his bedroom, he set his bag aside, sliding out his gifts and spreading them over his desk. They were all so handsome, bound in dark green covers, made of rich, heavy paper and sturdy bindings. They would last him a lifetime, treated well. Unlike his older ones that had been worn away by spills and cramped backpacks and occasionally an explosive quirk.

He flipped open the cover of the first one, picking up his nicest pen to give it a title, but when he saw the little yellow slip, he froze. A plain, simple note, with the line of glue on the back to stick it to things, easily out of any one of their classmates' study supplies. But the handwriting was so bold, so clear, and the words left nothing to his imagination.

I don't hate you.

He would treasure that note forever. Maybe he could find a tiny frame to put it in, to keep it at his bedside to smile at every night as he fell asleep.

Gears whirred in his brain, suppressing the urge to run downstairs to the room he knew would be occupied, reminding himself of Iida's words.

On the other hand, he wouldn't have left the note if he was trying to hide it. Maybe from the others, but not from Midoriya. Not from Deku.

Midoriya gave up quickly on suppressing the urge, heart pounding as he raced to the elevator, sinking far too slowly between the floors. The corridor was quiet, his footsteps and his knock echoing equally loud, but sure enough the door cracked open on a familiar scowl.

"Thank you, I love them."

"Whatever," Bakugou grumbled, looking away with a little pout. "It's fine."

"I, um, I found the note," he admitted, watching the face before him flood with pink. "I just- Thank you. For that, too. I'm... I'm really glad you don't hate me."

"I'm not saying it out loud," Bakugou growled, "don't try it."

"I'm not! I just- It means a lot to me, you know? After everything we've been through, I'm just... I'm just really glad."

"Are you crying?" Bakugou demanded, flinging the door open to look, finding stupid tears trickling down the freckled cheeks. "You are. You damn nerd, ugh. Get in here."

He dragged Midoriya inside, slamming the door behind them, and Midoriya couldn't help but laugh as he wiped the tears on his sleeve awkwardly. Bakugou handed him a box of tissues, and he accepted gratefully, rubbing at his eyes and nose.

"Let's hang out," Midoriya blurted out, watching blond eyebrows drop low over ruby eyes. "If you don't hate me, we can hang out, right? On- On Christmas Eve?"

"Only couples do that shit, nerd."

"Yeah," Midoriya nodded, swallowing hard. "So what do you think?"

Bakugou paused, and Midoriya held his breath, gnawing at his lip as he waited.

"You asking me on a date?"

"I know you, Kacchan. I don't hate you is the closest thing anyone will ever get to a love confession. So how about it? Can I take you on a date?"

"Fine, but it better be sappy as all hell," Bakugou blushed, looking away again. "I want flowers and fairy lights and hot chocolate, the works."

"Nothing but the best for Kacchan!" Midoriya agreed, finally smiling again despite his tears still flowing. "And I'll give you your present, too!"

"You don't need to get me anything."

"Too late! I already did! It's waiting for you in my room!"

"Then give it here, nerdass."

"Nope! It's for Christmas, not for two days before Christmas. You gotta wait!"

"I hate surprises."

"No, you love surprises," Midoriya pouted. "You just hate knowing there's a surprise coming because you're impatient."

"Shut up."

"Never."

Bakugou huffed, and Midoriya just grinned at him in return, waiting for the scowl to crack.

"Fine," he conceded finally. "Christmas Eve, nerd. No later."

"Deal!"

He paused in the doorway as he moved to show himself out, fingers drumming on the door handle as he contemplated.

"Are you really not gonna come to the Christmas party?" he asked sadly, peeking back over his shoulder.

"Nope. Hate that shit."

"Not even for me?"

"Especially not for you."

"Fine," he pouted again, taking another step. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. For our Christmas date."

"I'll be there."

"We'll get dinner, so don't eat after lunch."

"Fine."

"And wear something warm, we'll be outside a lot."

"Whatever."

"And-"

"I get it, nerd, I'll be prepared."

"Okay!" Midoriya grinned, wiping his eyes one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kacchan!"

"Whatever. See you tomorrow."

─────

Bakugou wasn't sure what he was thinking. It had taken too much damn courage to leave the note in the book, to trust the nerd not to rat him out to any of their classmates – then again, he knew the idiot could keep his mouth shut. He had about his quirk, after all. It had just been a dumb little sticky note, though, he had never expected a date to come of it.

Not that he was complaining. His mind had been occupied by the stuttery, anxious, freckled nerd face for as long as he could remember. Not that he'd ever admit that.

In all his years, he'd thought about dating only a handful of times. He'd never really thought it was him, so to speak. Why would he waste time holding hands with another human being when he could be training in the gym or apprehending villains?

Maybe it was because he'd spent his whole life with Midoriya already. He didn't see the point in investing extra time into someone, because he already had the person he wanted right by his side. It had just taken him a few years to recognise that.

At least he'd gained some self-awareness over the years, he supposed. That was something.

Enough self-awareness to realise exactly how stupid it was that he was staring in his closet when it was barely two o'clock, wondering which of his heavy winter jackets was the nicest. He knew they'd be out in the cold – not only because Midoriya had confirmed it, but because it was just such a Midoriya kind of date to have on Christmas Eve. Out under the stars and the lights, mitten-clad hands linked together clumsily, sipping at their hot chocolate and cuddling together for warmth.

It was sickening.

And he wanted it.

He settled on the red one, Midoriya's favourite colour, contrary to popular belief. He'd embraced the green theme to go with his hair and eyes, but his old shoes were the real giveaway. He'd been wearing the things for as long as Bakugou could remember, always bright red. He didn't even remember why, to be honest. The weirdo had just seen them one day and decided they were the coolest thing ever, and had been wearing them ever since. He had to have gone through multiple pairs as he grew, but still he stuck with the same dumb red ones. What a nerd.

When his phone finally buzzed, he snatched it in a hurry, confirming the sender before he grabbed his gloves and hurried downstairs. Midoriya was waiting nervously in the entryway, fingers drumming on his phone, but when Bakugou arrived, that familiar bright smile spread across his face.

"Your toes are gonna fall off," Bakugou grumbled, kicking his shoe lightly. "Where are your boots?"

"It's okay," he giggled. "It's only snowing a little, it's not deep!"

"Whatever, don't come crying to me when you get frostbite."

"I won't, I promise."

Midoriya stepped aside, holding open the front door, and Bakugou was already blushing when he stepped out into the cold breeze. It was still at least an hour until the sun would begin to set, but others like them were out in droves, wandering through the little street markets and taking photos in front of the decorations. Bakugou got dragged into his first one at the mall, pulled into a little hug in front of a giant Christmas tree while Midoriya snapped a picture on his phone. He knew he was blushing in it, but he would blame the cold later, and no one would ever have to be any the wiser.

There was a little crowd in the middle of the mall, gathered to watch some band playing Christmas carols, and as they stepped into the mass of people, Midoriya reached out his hand. His fingers threaded through Bakugou's as if it was the most natural thing in the world, keeping them linked together so they wouldn't be separated in the throngs, and after a moment of awkwardness Bakugou squeezed him back.

When a light dusting of snow began to fall, Bakugou found himself shivering a little, brushing snow off his neck stubbornly with a glove that was coated in it too.

"Do you want your Christmas present?" Midoriya asked with a smile, already pulling it from his bag. "Here! It's not much, but I hope you like it."

"Now?"

"Yeah!"

Bakugou caved and took the floppy package from him, opening it up carefully and tucking the ribbon and paper into his bag. Inside he found the softest black wool in the world, unfolding it into an oversized scarf that he could bunch up nice and full around his neck.

"I know you're picky about them," Midoriya smiled sheepishly. "And your old one was full of holes, so I hunted down a new one I thought was nice."

"It is. Nice."

He doubled it over and wrapped it around his neck, threading the ends through the loop it formed. Most scarves became too short when he wore them that way, the way he preferred, but Midoriya's pick was perfect. The ends hung to around his sternum, weighed down a little, and he lifted his hand to inspect one of them.

"Oh, there's a little dome," he explained, stepping forward to show him. "See? Little pocket."

He unfastened it and Bakugou slipped out a thin plastic pouch, clear with a metal disk inside.

"Reusable," Midoriya assured him. "The kind you boil to reuse. I thought it was neat! They'll keep you nice and toasty, or you can take them out to warm up your gloves or pockets instead if you want!"

"It's perfect," he admitted, flexing the little disk to make the pouch start to heat up, then repeating the process with the other side. "Um, thanks, ner- Deku. Thanks, Deku."

"You're welcome! I'm glad you like it!"

He took Bakugou's hand again, pretending not to notice the blush in his cheeks, and continued to lead the way down the street. He didn't stop again until they reached a cute little stall dishing out hot drinks, the delicious smell of chocolate and coffee wafting over them.

"Two large chocolate with the works!" Midoriya requested, handing over cash before Bakugou could reach for his wallet. "Thank you so much!"

The paper mugs were huge, topped with swirls of whipped cream and marshmallow, mounds of chocolate shavings, and even a smattering of rainbow sprinkles for good measure. Midoriya beamed at them, and Bakugou could do nothing but laugh as he accepted, wondering where to even begin with the monstrosity.

"Oh, pictures," Midoriya insisted, digging out his phone again and pulling Bakugou close. "They're so pretty, we can't let it go to waste!"

He snapped a few shots of them together holding their drinks, one of just their hands holding them side by side, and finally one of them taking matching sips just for good measure. It was like Midoriya was trying to become some kind of social media guru, taking the prettiest pictures to post and earn a thousand likes, but something about it was too cute for Bakugou to stop him.

God, he was so damn gone for the nerd.

─────

When he heard the knock at his door, Bakugou assumed it was one of his idiot friends, come to beg him about the party. He wasn't going to answer, was going to pretend he was already gone for the morning, but the lingering thought of what if it's Deku halted him in his tracks.

Screw it, he'd just slam it in their face if it was the wrong person.

"Good morning, Bakugou, I hope I didn't wake you."

"What are you doing here?" Bakugou frowned.

"May I come in?"

"Whatever, Four-Eyes. Whatever floats your boat."

He stepped aside, letting Iida in, and watched his eyes rake over the room briefly.

"You have a fine room, I don't think I've seen it before. I suppose I expected more skulls and... mess."

"Whatever," Bakugou shrugged again, waving toward his desk chair as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's just a bedroom. What do you want? Come to blackmail me or some shit?"

"Of course not!" Iida insisted, horrified. "I would never!"

"You tried to attack a villain when you didn't have a hero license," Bakugou snorted. "I heard the stories. Don't give me that holier-than-thou shit. What do you want?"

"I was hoping I could convince you to come to the party today."

"Aaaand there it is. No."

"I know it's not my place to say so, but I... May have overheard Aizawa-sensei talking to All Might, and maybe he let your name slip. I apologise, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but be concerned by the things I heard."

"What did he say?" Bakugou asked through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tensing up. "I have a right to know."

"You think no one wants you there?" Iida asked, surprised when Bakugou burned bright red in the face. "I assure you, Bakugou, that isn't true."

"Whatever, nerd-ass. I don't give a damn about some shitty party."

"Was that why you bought all the gifts? You were trying to make amends?"

"Fucking no," he growled. "It's what you fuckin' do at the end of the year, right? You buy your shitty coworkers a gift. And if they're obsessed with Christmas, it may as well be a Christmas gift."

"It was very kind of you. Everyone has been incredibly happy, you were very thoughtful."

"Whatever. I'm an asshole, I know that, I'm not blind. You idiots go have fun at your dumb party, I don't need to be there yelling at people and shit."

"It wouldn't be the same if you weren't there yelling at people."

"You don't need to do this shit just because you're meant to be the class leader or whatever. I don't care. Go have fun."

"I came to personally invite you," Iida said firmly. "I don't know what anyone else would say, and I'm not acting on behalf of anyone else, but I would like you to be there. I would like for you to come tell us how dumb our games are, then join in anyway. I'd like to hear you criticise the food, while eating everything on offer. I'd like to hear you yelling at your friends for being idiots, while they continue to poke you for a reaction and hang around you anyway. And if you ever feel for a moment like people don't want you there, I'd like you to come and spend time with me instead, because I want you there."

Bakugou swallowed hard, lost for words, and Iida finally cracked his serious expression to smile instead.

"You got a crush on me or some shit?" Bakugou accused.

"Not at all. But you're my classmate, and I'd like to think you're my friend on some level, too. This might be our last chance to really celebrate together as a class, and I would hate to spend the night knowing someone was missing."

"Whatever," Bakugou grumbled, pouting as he looked away. "I'll consider it."

"I'll leave this here," Iida smiled warmly, setting down one of their little flyers on the top of his bookshelf. "I hope to see you there."

He showed himself out, and for a long time Bakugou stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the flyer across the room.

"God damn it," he muttered, standing up to snatch it stubbornly. "I hate this damn class."

Despite all his protests and all the ignored texts and calls, when he heard everyone getting ready downstairs he found himself getting dressed, pulling on a decent pair of jeans that his old mentor would have been proud of, and a button-up shirt that he left unbuttoned, his dark tank top serving as decency beneath.

When he opened his door, he found not one, not two, but three classmates waiting, grinning at him the moment they saw his face emerge from the darkness.

"Good to see you, Bakugou!" Iida was practically giddy in his glee. "I came to escort you to the party, but it seems these two had the same idea."

"You made it!" Kirishima grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "You had us worried for a minute there, bro. Wouldn't be the same without you!"

With a shy little smile, Midoriya held out a hand, and pink rose in Bakugou's cheeks again as he accepted.

"I'm glad you came, Kacchan," he smiled warmly. "I would have missed you."

"Awww, look at you two, holding hands like cute li'l childhood friends, I love it!"

Midoriya giggled, shaking his head, and Bakugou groaned the moment his mouth opened.

"We went on a date, Kirishima!" Midoriya said gleefully. "And Kacchan agreed to go out again!"

"For real? Dude, that's so manly! I'm so proud of you both!"

"You don't have to tell the world," Bakugou grumbled. "You're embarrassing."

"And you like it, don't you?" Midoriya giggled, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "I'm happy you're here, Kacchan."

"Whatever, nerd."

Together the four of them walked across campus to the training hall, and Bakugou blushed once more when they met Aizawa in the doorway, acting as security and chaperone alike.

"Good to see you, Bakugou," Aizawa nodded, electing to ignore the linked hands. "Enjoy your night, all of you, and be safe."

"We will, Sensei! Thank you again for letting us do this!" Iida bowed low. "It means a lot to all of us!"

"Just keep it under control. Bakugou, no blowing out walls."

"I told you, Sensei," Kirishima grinned. "They're designed to withstand our quirks, a party is nothing!"

"Don't test that theory on my watch, at least wait until All Might takes over for me."

"Understood!"

The moment they stepped in the door they were bombarded by classmates, and Bakugou's eyes grew a little wider with every face that turned his way, every hand that clapped him on the back, even a few that shoved gifts of snacks and sweets with shiny red and green ribbons into his bag without waiting for him to accept their kindness.

"I'm glad you came!" they all told him brightly. "It wouldn't be the same without you!"

He refused to look back and see the self-satisfied looks that he knew Iida and Aizawa both wore, but he nodded all the same, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Whatever, nerds," he grumbled. "Thanks for having me."