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Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t like parties. The music is shit, the punch is too weak and the suit he’s wearing is making him too fucking hot. He didn’t want to come to this stupid reunion party but Kirishima and Deku pestered him until he finally broke. It's not ‘nice to see people’ or ‘a great night out’ as they’d promised - it's a fucking pain in the ass. He allowed Kirishima to drag him around for a while at the beginning, mainly offering grunts in response to various conversations, but after he decided to head for the dance floor with the rest of the self-proclaimed ‘Bakusquad’, Katsuki could finally retire to the seating area near the free bar. He’s drunk enough brightly-coloured punch to feel a bit tipsy but he reaches for another anyway. He reaches for another because he’s been unable to tear his eyes away from her. Yaoyorozu Momo stands not too far from where he’s sitting, in a mixed group of 1-A and 1-B graduates. She’s listening to aluminum-Kirishima speak, waving his arms animatedly as he tells his story. There’s an amused smile on her face and every now and then she laughs and the sound crosses the room. It’s a nice sound, he thinks, knocking back more alcohol. He wonders what the guy was saying to make her laugh, if she’d ever laughed at anything he’s said. No, don’t be a fucking idiot, he tells himself, you’ve barely said a nice or funny thing to anyone in your entire life. Momo’s beautiful. She’s always been beautiful, but fuck has age been good to her. Her face is still youthful and flushed pink due to the glass of champagne in her hand, but all the childish roundness has dissipated, leaving gentle curves and sharp lines around her cheekbones and jaw. He notices she’s grown taller and that she stands with excellent posture, as expected of someone of her social status. Sometime during third year she cut her hair off to her shoulders - who’s he kidding, he remembers exactly when she walked into the classroom sporting the new hairstyle, he couldn’t stop staring at the nape of her neck - and now she tends to wear it down, rather than in the usual ponytail. The dress she’s wearing is, well fuck, it’s distracting - a long black affair that hugs her hips and exposes her back. It’s high necked and sleeveless and boy, does it tick every single box he has. The only thing he doesn’t like is the ring sparkling on her finger. Bakugou mentally punches himself for staring, any longer and she’ll notice. He’ll notice. The blond’s eye twitches in annoyance as a hand comes to rest on the small of Yaoyorozu’s back. The man it belongs to is standing with his back to Bakugou but he knows full well who it is by the garish mop of red and white hair atop his head. It’s not like it’s a surprise, they’ve been ‘going out’ since second year but it’s not often that they show outward signs of affection whilst in class or training. They’re more subtle - Momo’s wearing his jumper in the common room again, Todoroki smells of the expensive brand of tea she brews in her room, there’s a fucking hickey on her chest that her hero costume can’t cover. Bakugou could barely control the small explosions coming from his palms that day. The couple are a good match, even he has to admit that. Both from well-known families, graduating in the top five of their class, both gentle and polite. Momo’s smarter, Todoroki has an objectively more powerful Quirk, their teamwork is fucking flawless - he could list all the reasons their perfect together but it makes him want to clap his hands around Todoroki’s ears and blow his head off. Bakugou grabs another drink from the free bar and slumps back into his seat, rolling his head back to look at the ceiling, at anything that isn’t the fucking power couple of 1-A. It’s your own stupid fault, he berates himself, you never said a word. His crush on Yaoyorozu began after he was kidnapped and Class 1-A started back at school again. He’d dragged Kirishima away to give him a wad of cash in return for his spy-goggle investment and offered a private thanks to Iida for his part in the ‘not-rescue’ rescue mission. Todoroki got a jerk of the head and that was all the shithead was getting. Deku - well, Deku got a slightly less cold glare than usual. The little idiot still seemed pleased by that and beamed so brightly that it damn near blinded him. The last person he needed to thank was Yaoyorozu, who he didn’t really know that well at the time. She was posh, clever and she had a ponytail - that was about all he knew. Oh, and she was stacked. Bakugou approached her at the end of the day, after they’d all finished moved into their dorms. He found her washing dishes alone in the kitchen, already clad in her pajamas. She was humming softly to herself, bobbing her head from to the beat of the tune. Kirishima had told him that she made the tracking device which assisted the Pro-Heroes and that she’d planted it on a villain whilst suffering from a pretty vicious head wound. He wasn’t sure why Yaoyorozu risked expulsion and a goddamn brain injury for his sake but he wanted to say thanks regardless. “Oi.” Yaoyorozu jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be stood behind her. She placed the plate she had been washing into the racked and turned to face Bakugou, wiping her hands on a small towel. A polite smile stretched across her face. “Good evening Bakugou, how are you?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms and didn’t return her smile. “Yeah, I ain’t here for shitty small talk. I just wanted to say thanks. For, y’know, helping out when- when, uh- fuck -” “You don’t have to thank me,” she interrupted, pursing her lips. Bakugou opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand to silence him. For once, he actually shut his mouth and listened. “I did what I thought was best, what any hero would do. What any friend would do.” “Friend?” he repeated, raising a brow. Were they friends? They’d not really spoken all that much, only in passing curses and grunts. Yaoyorozu shrugged. “Acquaintance then, if the term bothers you.” She was more forthright than he initially expected. In fact, the polite, somewhat nervous girl who acted as Vice-President was totally different from the person stood in front of him. This was someone who put important things on the line - including her fucking life - to rescue a person who didn’t even bother to call her by her own name. He blinked and felt the tension in his shoulders relax a touch, enough for him to offer her the barest hint of a smile. “Friend is fine, Ponytail,” Bakugou replied, shifting his weight onto his other hip. She smiled back and he felt his stomach twist uneasily - what the fuck was he so nervous for? It was probably residual embarrassment and guilt from the kidnapping, that was all. “Yaoyorozu, I mean.” “Momo,” she insisted, passing him to walk to the common room area. He turned to watch her collapse onto one of the sofas, hand reaching up to pull out her tight ponytail. His palms started to crackle as he hair cascaded down her back and he quickly wiped the sweat onto his trousers before any larger explosions could occur. What the fuck was going on? Yaoyorozu turned back to look at him and tilted her head toward the large television in front of the sofa. “I was thinking of watching some mindless action film. I- I could do with a bit of escapism at the moment. Would you like to join me?” Bakugou paused for a moment, brows furrowed in bemusement. “Escapism?” Yaoyorozu nodded, frowning slightly. It was only then that he noted how exhausted she looked and how dark the circles beneath her eyes were. “I’m just tired.” Eventually he sighed and vaulted over the back of the sofa to stretch out next to her. Yaoyorozu got up and started to flick through the DVD cases in the unit beneath the television until she found something suitable and returned to the sofa, stopping briefly to turn off the lights. They sat at opposite ends, backs leaning against the arm pillows, legs sprawled out beside one another’s. The film began - some zombie flick that Bakugou had seen before - and the two of them sat in comfortable silence, only punctuated every now and then by quiet gasps from Yaoyorozu. Bakugou glanced across at her a number of times, gaze lingering on the way the flickering light of the television highlighted the angles of her face. She was pretty, he hadn’t really noticed that before. After the fifth or sixth glance, he noticed that she kept rubbing a spot on the back of her head and wincing. “How’s your head?” he asked, before he could stop himself. “You’re an idiot, y’know. Taking on a fuckin’ Nomu like that.” She frowns and touches her forehead gently with her fingers. “Recovery Girl patched me up just fine. It’s still a little sore though.” Bakugou pushed himself onto his knees and crawled forward so that he was beside her curled up legs. She lowered her hand and watched him curiously as he laid his large palm across the back of her skull. There was a noticeable lump on the left hand side, he could feel a set of stitches beneath the softness of her hair. Yaoyorozu hissed quietly when he pressed down a little more firmly, so he drew back and gave her a stern look. “You gotta ice that more or the swelling will take ages to go down,” he said, standing up. He moved around the sofa and headed back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you an ice-pack, wait there.” “You don’t need to do that Baku-” “Katsuki,” he called back, waving a hand behind him. “Just sit fucking tight, Ponytail. I’ll be right back.” Bakugou can’t watch them any longer, so he heads out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. The area is quiet, he’s thankful for the peace of the place. It’s a warm night and a tumescent, pockmarked moon is a pale, bright stain on the navy sky. He takes a seat at one of the small tables near the railing and sparks up a cigarette, needing the harsh relief of ash on the back of his throat. The tie around his neck is suffocating, so he tugs it loose and lets it hang around his neck, reminding him of a high-school Deku. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair and looks up at the sky, hand moving mechanically back and forth to his mouth. This stupid infatuation has to end, it’s been years . If he’d told her maybe she would have accepted him. If he’d told her maybe she’d be here here with him instead of fucking Half-n-Half. Maybe he’d be the one to hold her hand and kiss her every night. Fuck. He’s halfway through the cigarette when he hears the balcony door creak open. Well, this is just fucking typical. “Katsuki!” Yaoyorozu greets, raising her hand to give a short wave. He jerks his head in response, jaw clenching as she walks over to the table. “It’s so good to see you, I didn’t think you were coming.” Bakugou grunts and shrugs his shoulders, looking out over the edge of the balcony as she sits down opposite him. “Kirishima would’ve dragged me here by the ear if I stayed at home.” Yaoyorozu gives him a smile so lovely that he thinks his fucking heart explodes. “Well, I’m very happy you came. It’s been too long since we last saw one another in person.” In reality it’s only been about a month but considering their close friendship at school, it feels like they never see one another. Bakugou feels a pang of unwanted guilt - perhaps he should make more of an effort to stay in touch, it’s not like she doesn’t email him or call. He rarely replies or answers when he sees her name on the screen. Better to cut it off and save himself from being pissed off and angry and upset - or at least that was what he thought. “Yeah, been ages,” he grumbles, flicking the still-burning cigarette tip over the balcony. He eyes the diamond sitting on her finger and motions to it with his head. “Congratulations, by the way.” “Thank you!” she flushes, smiling as she flexes her hand. She looks happy, she looks so fucking happy and it makes him want to blow something up. “We’ll send out invites soon, so watch for a letter.” There’s no way in Hell he’s opening that letter, let alone going to the fucking event. He makes a non-committal hum and rests his cheek against his fist. The image of Yaoyorozu in a wedding dress makes him feel queasy. He wants to shout 'it should be fucking me waiting for you at the end of the aisle' but he knows it’s his own fault for being too pathetic to tell her how he felt years ago. If he hadn’t been so stubborn and engrossed in his own pride he might have realised there was far more to life than being the best. “Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet this evening,” Yaoyorozu asks, brows furrowing in concern. She places a hand on his forearm and he knows it’s meant to be a comforting gesture but he can feel that fucking ring digging into his skin and it makes his hands crackle with pent up frustration. Momo flinches back, surprised by the small explosions bursting across his palms. “Katsuki?” Bakugou stares down at his hands and scowls, irritated by the reaction of his own body. When he glances back up at her he finds she’s staring back, worried. “Fine. Just- I’m fucking tired. I need to go home.” He bolts upright and she rises to follow him, holding out a hand. Yaoyorozu’s fingers brush his shoulder as he passes her and he jerks away, batting her away. They face one another for a second, Bakugou scowling, Momo looking wounded at the harsh reaction from her friend. Hate me, he thinks, hate me and stop being so fucking perfect. “Just fuck off, Ponytail,” he growls, looking down at the floor so he doesn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes. “See you.” He turns around and head for the door without looking back. Yaoyorozu stands alone on the balcony, watching her friend stomp away, utterly confused as to what just happened. She bites her bottom lip anxiously and stares at the floor, debating whether or not to follow him. The door creaks open again and she glances up to see Kirishima peering around the frame. “Hey Momo - is Katsuki out here?” he says, moving onto the balcony and closing the door behind him. He raises his hand in greeting but pauses when he notices the distressed look on her face. “Are you okay?” Momo furrows her brow and shakes her head. “He just left. I- I think I upset him.” Kirishima raises a brow and quickly glances at the woman’s hand, at the engagement ring shining in the dim light. He sighs softly and gives Yaoyorozu a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you didn’t! He’s probably tired, it’s been a busy week for him.” The woman nods sadly. “I suppose. He seemed stressed. I’ll call him in a few days, I’m worried about him.” “You’re too nice to him,” Kirishima grins. He makes a mental note to pay Bakugou a visit this week, there’s clearly some issue that they need to discuss. It’s not nice to see Yaoyorozu so upset, especially when he knows that the reason for Bakugou’s attitude is unrequited love. It angers him that his best friend would lash out when the fault is his own. He offers a hand to Momo and widens his grin. The bright smile doesn’t fail to make Momo relax slightly - very few people can resist Kirishima’s pearly whites and cheery disposition when he turns on the charm. “Shall we go and dance?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Mina will throw a hissy fit if she doesn’t get to dance with you.” Yaoyorozu smiles softly and nods. “That sounds great, thanks Eijirou.” Graduation was a fucking pain. The ceremony and dinner passed without much event but, as they were all of age it had been suggested that they take a cab to a nightclub in the city. Bakugou thought it was a fucking stupid idea but Kirishima all but manhandled him into the cab before he could say no. He had a cigarette outside alone before entering, needing a moment to relax after the events of the evening so far. It was a pleasant evening, there was a pleasant breeze which cooled the air enough to make it more comfortable wearing a dress-shirt and trousers. Bakugou was still a little overheated, his body always seemed to run hotter than most people’s, most likely due to his Quirk. Eventually, he pushed himself away from the wall and flipped open his ID to enter the club. The bouncer eyed him carefully then nodded and handed back his wallet. The music was pounding inside, the floor vibrating due to the bass coming from another room. Bakugou headed for the bar area which was lined with booths and peered curiously around the packed room until he caught sight of a hand waving through the crowd. He pushed through the sweaty, writhing crowd to see Kirishima, Kaminari and Jirou sitting in a booth in the corner of the room. Kirishima was already drenched and panting slightly, clearly having a momentary break from dancing. Jirou and Kaminari were tucked into one corner, closer than usual. Jirou was thrumming her fingers against the side of her glass in time to the music and her other hand was resting on Kaminari’s knee. Bakugou cast him a sly look and the other boy gave a casual shrug in return as if to say ‘I literally have no idea how I managed this’. “Clubbing guys, really?” he asked, shaking his head. He sat down next to Kirishima, who immediately flopped onto his shoulder and wrapped his arms around Bakugou’s waist. For once, he just rolled his eyes and patted his friend’s head fondly. It was graduation and the club was rammed, it wouldn’t be the best place to start exploding. “Fucking drunkard.” “He’s only had a few beers,” Kaminari chuckled. “He wore himself out by dancing like a maniac for the last few hours.” They spoke casually among themselves for a little while, sticking to simple topics such as what they were planning on doing now they had finished school. A few familiar faces came and went - a sweat slick Midoriya and a very tipsy Uraraka sat with them for a while, Sero and Mina dropped by for a few seconds to refuel before heading back to the dance-floor and eventually they were joined by a very tired looking Shinsou Hitoshi from Gen-Ed. Bakugou let Kirishima remain slumped against his side, rolling his eyes at anyone who looked curiously at the drunken mess that was his best friend. “So what you doin’ now we’ve graduated?” Bakugou asked Shinsou, who was busy slurping down a brightly coloured cocktail. Shinsou wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You may be surprised to hear that I’m interning at an agency. Hopefully getting a license.” Midoriya gasped and clapped his hands excitedly. “Congratulations, Shinsou!” They grinned at one another happily and Bakugou noticed that way Deku’s hamster-cheeks flushed pink. It wasn’t just the booze causing that, he was so fucking obvious. “How’d you manage that, mindfreak?” Bakugou asked, gruffly. He clicked his tongue at Midoriya and gestured to the bucket of beers on the table. “Pass me one, would ‘ya? I can’t move fucking move because of this idiot.” Midoriya nodded and offered him an unopened can. He cracked it open quickly, desperate for a chilled beverage to cool him down a bit. Too much sweat was a bad thing, not just for the smell of his pits but also to prevent unwanted explosions. Shinsou chuckled at the sight of Kirishima and then glanced back up at Bakugou. “Aizawa put me in touch with a specialist underground agency,” he explained, fiddling with the umbrella in his drink. “They take people with mental Quirks. It’s way less flashy than what you guys will be doing because it’s better for us to be unrecognisable.” “Covert operations and shit?” Kaminari piped up. Shinsou nodded. “Yep. Negotiations, intelligence gathering, undercover, that sort of stuff.” Kirishima bolted upright suddenly, causing Bakugou to drop his beer on the floor. “Like James Bond!” The blond growled and shoved the other man with his elbow, causing him to wail loudly. Shinsou chuckled under his breath and took another sip of his drink. “Yeah, kinda like James Bond.” “Who’s James Bond?” The group turned to look at the source of the question and Bakugou felt his stomach twist uneasily. Yaoyorozu and Todoroki were approaching the table with two jugs of fresh cocktails in their hands. He wasn’t avoiding her, in fact he loved spending time with her - alone. Or at least without the Half-n-Half bastard at her side. The days where the two of them hung out in the library or sprawled out in the gardens of U.A. with their homework were his favourite, fuck even when the rest of the ‘Bakusquad’ were around wasn’t all bad. Todoroki tended to keep his distance during school hours, they weren’t joined at the hip like a lot of couples but it was still too fucking much for his liking. Yaoyorozu took the free seat on the other side of Bakugou and Todoroki moved to sit with Midoriya, who greeted his friend with a sweaty hug. Fuck, she was close. They started handing out glasses of booze to those sat around the table, most of whom readily accepted. Bakugou decided to stick to beer, nothing stronger. With the way the night was going he was probably going to have to carry Kirishima back to his dorm, so it would be best not to get too wasted. “I am, apparently,” Shinsou answered, amused. “Thanks for the drinks, s’much appreciated.” “Not at all!” Momo replied, happily. The other end of the table started up some uninteresting conversation so Bakugou rolled his head to the side to look at her. Fuck, fuck. Perhaps he shouldn’t have looked. Red, high-necked, sleeveless, Jesus fucking Christ, her legs- “Are you having a pleasant evening so far, Bakugou?” “Didn’t I tell you fuckin’ ages ago to call me Katsuki?” he grumbled, taking a swig of beer. She laughed softly and pushed a few errant hairs behind her ear. “Ah yes. Sorry.” “S’fine,” he replied, awkwardly. “Well done on getting top of the class, by the way, Brainbox.” “Brainbox?” He gestured to her hair, which was laying undone around her shoulders. “Can’t really call you Ponytail anymore, can I?” “I suppose not!” she smiled, taking a sip of her drink. The way she held the glass was so elegant and fuck when did he start noticing stupid shit like that? “Thank you, but I wasn’t top overall, just in the academics.” “Don’t sell yourself short, idiot,” he frowned. “You’re the smartest person in the class by a long way.” Yaoyorozu nudges him with her elbow. “Ah, well coming from you that’s high praise.” Bakugou starts to speak but is interrupted by the piercing screech of Ashido. She bounces up to the table and plants her hands on Midoriya’s shoulders. “Guys! If you don’t come and dance then I’m going to spike your drinks with acid!” she shrieked, still bopping to the music. “C’mon!” The self-proclaimed ‘Alien Queen’ span on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, singing the lyrics to the song playing at the top of her lungs. Shinsou sighed and spread his arms out across the back of the seat, staring at Midoriya. “She’s terrifying,” he muttered, chucking back the rest of his drink. He set the glass on the table and stood, jerking his head toward the dancefloor. “Come on, let’s show them how it’s done.” Midoriya jumped at the chance and the two of them headed toward the mass of people. Bakugou almost smiled at the way Deku took the brainwasher’s hand in his. At least the little shit had guts. Todoroki was engaged in a conversation with Jirou and Kaminari, who decided to stay at the table and watch their bags. Kirishima was still out cold, slumped against the wall with his drooling mouth open. Yaoyorozu stood and extended a hand toward Bakugou, smiling expectantly. “Dance?” she asked, raising a brow. She laughed at the sullen face he made back to her. “Come on! Just one, for me?” In what world could he turn that down? Bakugou grunted and got to his feet, allowing Momo to pull him deep into the pulsating crowd by the hand. They found a group of their fellows and melded into the dancers. The alcohol and atmosphere started to make him feel dizzy, the flashing lights were blinding, it was too hot. Nothing was comfortable but he took a deep breath and started to move to the crashing beat, trying to ignore how well Yaoyorozu’s hand fit into his. Eventually she let go and turned to face him as the next song came on. Well, fuck, he actually knew this one. Mina hollered in appreciation and the group started to sway to the music. Yaoyorozu was beside him, hips - those goddamn fucking hips - moving from side to side as she danced. He swallowed thickly, unable to keep his eyes off her. It was too much, too fucking much. The rhythm quickened and she must have felt his hesitation as she turned and grabbed hold of his hand, playfully making him spin her around. He tried to keep up as the bass guitar kicked in, eventually deciding ‘fuck it’ and let himself enjoy the moment, if only just for this song. He moved forward and wrapped an arm around the back of her waist, just as she laid an arm across his shoulders. Momo was there, she was beside him and he loved her and for just the few moments where she swayed against him he could pretend that everything had worked out. It was side by side, it was friends rather than lovers, he knew that. But, for the time Bakugou Katsuki was overwhelmingly happy. The guitars started to scream and the crowd began thrashing, wilder than before. They separated when the group started to bang their heads to the music. Bakugou looked at them, all of them, overwhelmed and dizzy from the experience. U.A. was over, they’d made it, the rest of life stretched out ahead of them. The moment passed, for all of them. It would not come again.