You and Bakugou have been “friends” for a while now. He’d never use that label out loud—but he tolerated you. Which, in his language, basically meant he liked you more than most.

The night started off like any other. Bakugou went out on patrol, caught a few low-level villains, filed the usual stack of paperwork, and then—like the freeloader he is—made his way to your apartment for a home-cooked meal.

But tonight, something was different.

On the walk over, he was ambushed by what seemed like a low-life villain. The fight was short, sloppy. The only unusual part? The bastard managed to bite him—on the neck. Before disappearing into the shadows, the villain muttered something strange:

“Salve fame. Cum tandem te alloquatur… intelleges cur subriserim.”

Bakugou scowled, rubbing the spot where he’d been bitten. He filed a quick report but brushed it off, blaming exhaustion. Still, something felt…off.

He eventually made it to your door—but instead of barging in like he usually did, he leaned against the wall just outside, arms crossed, jaw tense.

“Can I come in or what?”

He’d never asked before. He always just walked in like he owned the place. But now… it was like he physically couldn’t cross the threshold without your permission.