I don't like chocolate (bkdk Valentine's Day)

It was the third package that day, and it was only lunch time. Timidly she approached the desk, sliding the wrapped box slowly across the surface.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Bakugou!”

He grunted a little, barely looking up as he accepted it with a nod.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Beaming, she skipped away, and Bakugou scowled as he watched her go. The moment she left the room, he lobbed the box over to Kaminari's seat, his face lighting up.

“Are you sure?!”

“Yeah, eat it. I don't want it.”

“Waiting for the right girl?” Jirou queried, raising an eyebrow at him from the next desk over. “Didn't take you for someone so devoted.”

“I don't like chocolate.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“Pikachu doesn't get any of his own,” Bakugou smirked. “He may as well eat my spares.”

“Rude!” Kaminari said indignantly, the impact lessened by his cheeks stuffed with chocolate. “Girls just like bad boys, that's all!”

“Oh yeah, the baddest boy ever,” Jirou drawled. “Straight-A student, always does his homework, perfect attendance, goes to bed at eight o clock...”

“Shut up,” Bakugou glared. “I do whatever the fuck I want, and what I want is to rub it in all your shitty faces when I become the Number One Hero. I'm not gonna skip class just so some shitty extra thinks I'm cool.”

“The baddest of all boys,” she reiterated, smirking as she turned back to her phone. “I'm shaking in my boots.”

“Damn straight.”

He glanced up when the door opened again, watching Midoriya and his nerd-crew return from getting lunch, and for a brief moment their eyes met. Midoriya seemed to take it as an invitation, much to Bakugou's disdain, and as he approached the desk he pulled a little red package from his bag. Bakugou glared at him, clenching his fists, opening his mouth to cuss the nerd out, but was cut off by the timid voice that parted Midoriya's pink lips.

“I know you don't really like chocolate,” he began, “and the others have been making fun of me all day for this, but guys are supposed to get their gifts today, right? It shouldn't matter who they come from. So, um, happy Valentine's Day, Kacchan, I hope you like them!”

He handed over the box, his face glowing as red as the paper, and out of sheer curiosity Bakugou found himself opening it. Sure enough, it was the same shape as a box of chocolates, but when he opened the carton he found nine little jars covered in gnarly looking warning labels, the skull-and-crossbones logos scribbled over in permanent marker with familiar little smiley faces.

Weirdly familiar, actually.

He stared at them for a moment, at the way the mouths curled up just a little too tightly, almost like a U rather than a real smile.

He looked up, finding eyes that were a little too watery, a smile that was a little too wobbly, and in his outstretched hand, a tiny giftcard.

“Happy Valentine's Day! C:”

That same face, that same writing. How had he never recognised that damn handwriting before?

He accepted the card, nodding, but before he could say a word, the bell rang and Midoriya jumped so hard Bakugou felt a little bad for him.

“Thanks,” he said instead, packing the little spice mixes away into his bag safely. “I'll try them out tonight.”

Smiling a little easier, Midoriya returned to his desk, left to stare at the back of Bakugou's head. Bakugou kept the card clutched in his hand through the entire set of afternoon classes, and the moment the bell went, he practically ran back to his room.

In an old shoebox, tucked away under his bed, the card joined eleven more with the same words, the same smiley faces, only with slightly shittier handwriting.

─────

Bakugou took over the kitchen the moment they finished school, his classmates quickly learning to keep their distance. Usually when Bakugou barricaded himself in with the stove it was a sure sign that he was pissed about something or other, and everyone knew better than to get involved. They could hear pots clanging, cupboards slamming, Bakugou yelling at his own tools, but soon it became just their everyday background noise, tuned out in favour of comparing gifts and watching cheesy romance movies.

Ding

Kirishima pulled his phone from his pocket, finally noticing the quiet coming from the kitchen when he saw the name light up on his screen. 

New message: Bakugou

“Send the nerd in. And be subtle, shitty-hair.”

He raised an eyebrow as he read it a second time, thinking back to the cute little scene the bell had interrupted earlier in the day, then put his best smile on his face as he leaned back to look across the room.

“Hey Midoriya, can you go check on Bakugou for me? I'd do it myself, but I've been threatened one too many times already today.”

“It got kind of quiet,” Midoriya noted, nodding. “I'll go look.”

“Thanks man, you're the best.”

He smirked as Midoriya padded off in his fluffy socks, ignoring the curious looks he got from various classmates, and shoved his phone away. He wouldn't be needing it for a while.

Midoriya froze when he saw the table, laid out with two places, a vase of brightly coloured flowers between the plates. As he looked up, Bakugou returned with two heaped bowls, and Midoriya wiped his mouth quickly to make sure he wasn't drooling.

“Is everything okay, Kacchan?”

“Sit.”

“Wait, really?”

“I figured I owed you for twelve years of Valentine's gifts,” he grumbled, shrugging as he set a perfectly arranged Katsudon on each side. “Do you want it or not?”

“Yes! Kacchan, it's so beautiful! And it smells amazing!”

“Then eat while it's still hot.”

He took his seat obediently, grinning as Bakugou joined him at the table, and this time he was certain he had to be drooling, as he took his first bite.

“Oh my god,” Midoriya murmured, eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

“Good, huh?”

“The best, Kacchan! Literally the best I've ever had! Oh my god!”

“It's like you've never had my cooking before,” Bakugou smirked. “My food is always the best.”

“I know it is! But I'm still always amazed!”

“You're not meant to agree with me, stupid nerd.”

“But it's true!”

He returned to scoffing his food, and Bakugou smiled faintly as he watched, sticky rice all over Midoriya's freckled face. He looked up when he caught Bakugou staring, smiling slightly when Bakugou huffed and looked down at his food. He'd grown up so much since they started high school, even if he'd never admit to it, and Midoriya couldn't help but smile as he ate his meal. 

When they'd settled in a little, Bakugou quietly brought up the latest Hero Chronicle issue, of which two identical copies were thrown at them when the mail came in earlier in the week. Midoriya's eyes lit up, swallowing his mouthful to let the words fall out in a rush.

“Did you read the bit about Kesagiriman?! The analysis of the crime syndicate growth?!”

“It's an interesting use of his quirk,” Bakugou acknowledged. “If that were my quirk, it wouldn't be the way I used it, you know?”

“Me neither! It's amazing that he's so versatile!”

“I liked the stuff about Miruko,” Bakugou continued, toying with his food. “The way she talks about the job is fascinating.”

“You should try to meet her, she'd be a great hero for you to intern with!”

“You think?”

“Yeah! She would like you, I think. They were really scientific about her write-up though, it didn't seem like they talked to her much?”

“It reminded me of your books,” Bakugou admitted. “Analysing someone without their knowledge, you know?”

“Maybe that'll be my job when I retire,” Midoriya hummed faintly, contemplating. “I wonder if I could make any of my stuff interesting? It's not very compelling to read.”

“Start your own magazine, aim it at nerds who want data, not fluff writing.”

“Yeah! That'd be so cool! You could come write with me, if you want. You can do the critical stuff while I rave about their quirks.”

“Sure, why not.”

In the main room, all their classmates could hear was excited discussion and the occasional laughter. Kirishima grinned to himself, proud of his friends for finally initiating something special, but the rest of the class sat in mutual confusion, mumbling their speculation over what could be going on. By the time any of them mustered up the courage to go look, all they found was two teenage boys at a sink, splashing each other with bubbles as they argued.

“I told you, I can do it.”

“Nuh-uh! I'm helping! I'll wash, you dry.”

“I'll wash and you can dry.”

“But it's bad for your hands, Kacchan!”

“Fuck off, you think I can't fight if I've done dishes? I'm washing.”

“Fine, fine! I give! You wash, I'll dry.”

“Damn right, nerd.”

Uraraka squeaked when she watched Midoriya roll up a tea towel, whipping Bakugou with it playfully. She expected explosions, yelling, swearing, but all she saw was a toothy grin stretch across Bakugou's face as he reached for a towel of his own.

“I think we should leave them to it,” Iida whispered. “They don't seem to be fighting.”

“Yeah, let's go!”

They closed the door quietly behind them, and in disbelief, returned to their waiting classmates, lost for words to try to explain.

“I think they're friends?” Uraraka said finally, tilting her head to the side as she considered it. “Like, they're being genuinely friendly, in their own way?”

“Just leave them,” Kirishima grinned. “They're having fun! Isn't that the most important thing?”

“Right!” Uraraka agreed, beaming. “I'm so happy they're friends!”

When the dishes were done and stacked away neatly in the cupboards, Midoriya smiled sadly, gesturing toward the doorway.

“I guess I should go, people will be wondering where I am. Thank you for this, Kacchan.”

Bakugou sighed, folding his arms, and Midoriya waited patiently for him to find the words he wanted.

“Here,” he said simply, taking a step forward.

Midoriya's eyes teared up when Bakugou wound his arms around his waist, shaking as he gently hugged his friend back for the first time since they were toddlers. He felt so warm, so snuggly, and suddenly Midoriya had the urge to hold on to him forever.

“Are we even now?” Bakugou grumbled.

“You never owed me anything, Kacchan. I got you presents because I wanted to!”

“I probably should have guessed it was you. You're the only one who, uh, pays that much attention to me.”

“I'll be counting down until the next time we do this. Only... Four thousand, three hundred and eighty days?”

“Don't forget leap years.”

“Damn it!”

Bakugou let go, smiling faintly, and ruffled Midoriya's messy hair.

“How about Saturday?” he asked, in a moment of weakness. “We'll go out somewhere, this time.”

“That sounds great, Kacchan!”

“Wear something that won't embarrass me.”

“I have the perfect outfit! I've been saving it for something just like this! I can't wait!”

“Yeah, it'll be fun.”

Midoriya paused, folding his arms, and pulled a face as he considered.

"Does this mean we're dating now?"

"Yeah"

"Finally!"

He threw his arms back around Bakugou's slim waist, squeezing him tight, and Bakugou smiled softly into his mop of hair.

"Yeah. Finally."