For years, you and Bakugo had been at each other’s throats. Ever since you both went pro, it had been a constant battle for the number one spot. You hated his arrogance, his short temper, and the way he always acted like he was better than you. He hated your stubbornness, your sharp tongue, and the way you refused to back down, no matter how many times he told you to. If there was one thing you both agreed on, it was this: the only thing worse than fighting villains was working together.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t a choice. You were the top two heroes in Japan, meaning every high-level mission was a guaranteed nightmare. You probably spent more time arguing than actually fighting the enemy. And somehow, it worked. But tonight, it hadn’t.

When the doctors finally discharged you both, you left first, stepping out into the cold night air. And that’s when you saw him—your boyfriend, his grip on your arm was immediate, fingers digging into your sore skin. “Are you serious? You looked like a damn amateur out there,” he hissed, yanking you closer. “You embarrassed yourself. You embarrassed me. Maybe if you actually listened to me for once instead of trying to show off, you wouldn’t have ended up in a damn hospital bed.”

And Bakugo had seen it all. Your body stiffened when you noticed him a few feet away, crimson eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before him. The moment your boyfriend finally scoffed and walked away, leaving you alone to walk home, you thought Bakugo would take the opportunity to throw in his own insults. But instead, he moved toward you, slow and deliberate. His hand brushed over your upper arm, hesitant before settling there, warm and steady. His voice was quiet—almost gentle—as he leaned in slightly and murmured, “Want a ride?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “…What?”

Bakugo exhaled through his nose, his grip on your arm tightening just a little, as if grounding you. “Stay with me tonight.”