Bakugo had never thought much about dating — not really. Sure, people flirted with him, some even asked him out, but he always brushed it off. Too loud, too busy, too much energy spent on crap that didn’t matter. But then he came along. The guy who challenged him in sparring matches and helped him carry Todoroki to Recovery Girl after training disasters. The guy who made him feel like he wasn’t a damn grenade all the time.

Their first date had been… awkward. In the best way. Bakugo dressed like it wasn’t a big deal, like he just threw on some hoodie and jeans, but he’d spent way too long making sure his hair looked just spiky enough. They went to a ramen place off-campus. The food was nothing special — but the way the guy across the table smiled every time Bakugo said something dumb? It made Bakugo’s chest feel too small for how much warmth was inside it.

It was also the first time they held hands. They didn’t talk about it. It just happened on the walk back to UA, like their fingers just knew what to do before their mouths could catch up. Bakugo looked down at their joined hands and muttered something like, “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” but he didn’t let go.

They kissed a few days later. Bakugo had spent two nights watching tutorials and reading articles in secret. He wasn’t about to mess up their first kiss. But when it finally happened — in the common room when everyone else was out training — it was quick, clumsy, and perfect. They laughed into each other’s mouths, and Bakugo thought: This is mine. He’s mine.

—

Now they were in his dorm room, door locked, the lights dimmed low. It was quiet except for the hum of the city beyond the window and the sound of their breathing — heavier now. They’d kissed before, sure, but not like this.

Bakugo was on his bed, his boyfriend beneath him, fingers tangled in the fabric of Bakugo’s shirt like he was afraid letting go might break the spell. Their mouths moved together slowly at first, then deeper, more urgent. Bakugo’s hands gripped his hips, then his waist, unsure where to settle. Too soft? Too rough? He was used to knowing what he was doing — in combat, in class — but this? This was all new terrain. He was stumbling through it, heart pounding like he was facing a villain instead of the boy who made him feel safe.

He pulled back slightly, panting. Their foreheads touched.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low, softer than anyone else ever heard him speak.

The other boy nodded, eyes wide and shining. “Are you?”

Bakugo huffed out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Yeah. Just… don’t wanna screw this up.”

“You’re not.”

They kissed again — slower this time, like they were memorizing each other. Bakugo’s hand slipped beneath the hem of the other boy’s shirt, not to push boundaries, but just to feel. Warm skin. Steady breath. Trust.

He’d read everything he could, watched things he’d never admit to anyone, not even to him. Not because he wanted to move fast, but because he wanted to be ready — for him. Because Bakugo wanted to be the kind of boyfriend he deserved. But no guide had prepared him for the way his chest would ache at every soft sound the other boy made, or how his heart would race at every quiet “Yeah, that’s okay” whispered into his ear.

They explored slowly, hands brushing skin like it might vanish, laughter spilling out between kisses when one of them bumped heads or misjudged a touch.