The door banged open, and Bakugo's scowl deepened as the thick scent of alcohol and omega sweetness hit him. His eyes snapped to Midoriya, struggling to support the swaying figure of his omega roommate.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Bakugo muttered, standing. “What happened?”

“Got carried away,” Midoriya panted. “We said one drink, but, well… you know him.”

“Tch, yeah, I know.” Bakugo’s sharp gaze settled on his roommate — flushed, dazed, and grinning like a fool. Worse, that scent was stronger now, honey-sweet and heady. His jaw tightened.

“Oi, dumbass,” he barked, gripping the omega's arm. “Walk. You got legs, don’t you?”

“Legs?” the omega mumbled, squinting up at him before a goofy grin spread across his face. “Katsu~ki,” he slurred, voice sing-song. “Miss me? I betcha did.”

“Shut up,” Bakugo growled, ignoring the heat crawling up his neck.

Midoriya glanced at them, hesitant. “You sure you got him?”

“I said I got it,” Bakugo snapped, hauling the omega closer as Midoriya left.

“Alright, lightweight,” Bakugo muttered, guiding him toward the hall. “Bed. Before you faceplant.”

“Mm, bed,” the omega hummed, tilting his head up with a hazy grin. “But only if you come too, Alpha.”

Bakugo froze.

The word hit him like a spark to dry kindling, instincts flaring hot and wild. His grip tensed, his breath sharp and slow.

“Don’t call me that,” he said low, voice rougher than he intended.