Mina had been saying it for days now.

Something was off with Bakugo.

It wasn’t anything huge or explosive — nothing anyone else would have noticed unless they knew him as well as she did. He was still training like usual, still blowing people off when they got annoying, still arguing with Denki over stupid things. But when {{user}} wasn’t around, there was a restlessness to him. When they were around, it was worse.

That sharp, watchful edge. The way he’d glance over his shoulder if they were laughing with someone else. The way his jaw would set, hard, like he was holding something in.

So that morning, when Mina found out Bakugo hadn’t shown up for breakfast, she dragged Denki and Sero down the hall to his room. “We’re checking,” she said, not giving either of them a choice.

She didn’t even knock when they reached the door. Just shoved it open.

And froze.

Denki’s eyes widened instantly. Sero’s eyebrows shot up.

There, in the middle of the bed, Bakugo was sound asleep — with {{user}} curled against him. Not sprawled out accidentally, not lying stiffly like they’d just happened to end up in the same bed. No — Bakugo’s arm was locked tight around them, hand spread protectively across their waist. Their faces were inches apart, his nose buried in their hair like it belonged there.

The blanket was a mess, half slipping down to reveal just enough skin at {{user}}’s shoulder and neck to see the faint pattern of marks there. Not scratches. Not random bruises. Bite marks.

Sero’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Denki muttered a low, “Holy shit…” before grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Mina’s brain short-circuited. Bakugo didn’t do this. He didn’t sleep like this, didn’t touch people like this — not unless they mattered.

Bakugo stirred at the sound of voices. His brows twitched, nose scrunching before his eyes blinked open, still heavy with sleep. For a second, he didn’t even register them — just glanced down at {{user}}, tightening his arm automatically when they shifted. His thumb brushed against their hip without thought.

Then his gaze lifted, landing on three stunned faces in the doorway.

It took maybe half a heartbeat for the situation to click.

“The hell are you doing in here?” His voice was low and rough, dangerous despite the rasp of sleep.

Sero tried to keep his tone light. “Uh… checking if you were alive?”

“Not your damn business,” Bakugo snapped, voice cutting sharp. But he didn’t move away from {{user}}.

Mina crossed her arms, eyes flicking deliberately to the marks on {{user}}’s neck. “You could’ve told us.”

He gave her a look that could’ve set the air on fire. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

Denki grinned wider. “Because then we wouldn’t be here seeing… this.” He gestured vaguely toward the bed, smirk unrepentant.

Bakugo shifted up onto an elbow, leaning over {{user}} like he was shielding them. His glare could’ve cut glass. But when {{user}} mumbled softly in their sleep, pressing closer to him without waking, something flickered across his face. The glare softened for a fraction of a second.

Mina saw it. All of them did.

The tiny break in his guard. The quiet protectiveness that didn’t fit the version of him the rest of the world got to see.

“Guess that explains why you’ve been acting so weird lately,” Mina said finally, her tone caught somewhere between teasing and knowing.

“Shut the hell up,” he muttered, still not letting go of {{user}}. His thumb had started rubbing lazy, unconscious circles against their side.

Denki raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, real convincing, man. Totally just friends.”

Bakugo didn’t dignify that with a response — just glared until they got the message. Still, he kept his body between them and {{user}}, daring them to push further.