Chapter Text
(Your lights are on, but you're not home
Your mind is not your own)
The day Ochako discovers she’s a pervert is an unremarkable one.
It’s Spring – Ochako’s favorite time of year – and the trees are unfurling tiny, delicate leaves in the warm sunshine. Flowers have appeared seemingly overnight, lacing the campus in an aroma that makes Ochako’s head swim. As she stands in the doorway of the 3-A dorms, she stretches her arms and sighs contentedly – this time of year could put anyone in a good mood.
Well, almost anyone.
“Quit blockin’ the doorway, dumbass.”
Ochako squeaks as Bakugo brushes her out the way. Not hard enough to topple her, but firm enough to be rude from anyone else. From Bakugo, it’s actually pretty considerate, but she scowls at the back of his head anyway. “Excuse you.”
“Excuse yourself!” he barks over his shoulder.
“A-ah, sorry, Uraraka.” Kirishima’s apologetic grin pops into view and he pats her carelessly on the shoulder. He’s never kicked the habit of softening the tension Bakugo stirs in his wake, but to be fair he’s very good at it. “You training today?”
Hackles smoothed out, Uraraka sighs dramatically and holds up a maths textbook. “Can’t. I missed the last test because of my internship, so I gotta study for it now. Was the test difficult?”
Kirishima winces, sharky teeth bared in a rueful grimace. “Wellll…”
“That bad?”
“You’ll be fine. Just – ah – take the rest of the afternoon to study, I guess. If you want-”
“Oi, shitty-hair!” Bakugo’s yell from up ahead severs his encouragement. “Hurry the fuck up! I wanna get to the gym before those other losers take the good spots.”
Kirishima rolls his eyes playfully, then winks at Uraraka. “Happy studying! Catch ya later.”
And little does she know, she will catch them later. But until then she’s carefree and content as she crosses the campus to her favorite study location outside. It seems wasteful to spend such a beautiful day indoors and oftentimes even the quietest of rooms in the main building threatens her with distraction. Maths isn’t her forte and she cannot afford to fall behind in the third year.
Her secret study spot is tucked behind the back of Gym Gamma, twenty feet or so from the rear exit. There’s a cluster of trees set a small distance from the surrounding forest, and their tangled roots shield her from passersby. It’s shady and quiet and smells like fir trees and she loves it.
In fact, it would have been perfect if not for the explosions echoing deep within Gym Gamma, a sign that Bakugo and Kirishima’s sparring session was underway.
She feels a flash of wistfulness at the thought. She’s sparred with them both on occasion over the years, especially after the first year’s Sport’s Festival. But because she’s part of – in Bakugo’s words – the ‘nerd squad’, she’s rarely invited to participate in their training sessions. They never refuse when she asks to join, but she doesn’t want to intrude either, so usually ends up watching from the sidelines.
And honestly, they’re a sight to behold – especially Bakugo, who is hell incarnate across the battlefield, twisting and turning at a rate too rapid to follow, reaping whirlwinds of brimstone and fireworks. She’ll never admit it out loud, but she puts him on a pedestal even higher than Deku – always has done, since the festival. She strives hard to meet the high bar he sets, as much as her quirk will allow.
By contrast, Kirishima is sturdy, strong, unwavering. If Bakugo is fire in a furnace, then Kirishima is the steel hammered against the anvil. He has the resolve and drive to match Bakugo, but he expresses it in a way that is far more palatable… and doesn’t involve calling her mean names every two minutes.
Although she and Deku have developed strong quirk combinations over the years and are in their own way idolized by almost everyone in school, they never seem to live up to U.A.’s ‘power couple’. Can never meet their level of effortless cool.
Shrugging off those green-tinted thoughts, she settles into her favorite spot and begins to study.
The afternoon bells are chiming when she hears the back door to Gym Gamma open and slam shut. She still has a few more pages to cover and doesn’t want to be interrupted, but she peeks around the trunk anyway.
Bakugo and Kirishima have emerged from their training session. Breathless and sweating, Bakugo stands by the back door with his hands in his pockets and scowls at the setting sun, while Kirishima wipes off his face with a towel.
They’ve been classmates long enough that Ochako should have, by all rational means, become indifferent to their physiques, but they’ve grown taller and broader and impossibly sculpted with age, and in recent months it’s been very hard not to stare at them when she’s absolutely positive nobody is looking. For one, Kirishima never wears a shirt when he trains, which is so distracting it borders on rude, and Bakugo’s sweat plasters his black t-shirts so tightly to his chest and biceps that he may as well not wear one at all.
Not that she’s complaining, but it is slightly problematic. For her, anyway. While boys like Deku make her heart sing with delight, Bakugo and Kirishima ignite a dizzying, carnal fire in the pit of her belly that she will never, ever admit to anyone. Ever.
Eveeer.
The pair stand in companionable silence for a moment, then Kirishima’s gaze snags on Bakugo and he says something too quietly for Ochako to hear.
Bakugo’s expression shifts from nonchalance to… what? She can’t quite put her finger on it; it’s a feral smirk below eyes that grow suddenly hot, though not with his usual anger; there’s a dare written across his face, a wordless challenge, and perhaps a dash of anticipation. She thinks it looks familiar but can’t quite place it until –
Kirishima leans forward and kisses him.
Ochako is so shocked that she jerks back and smacks her head against the tree trunk. Is she hallucinating? She must be. Because there’s no way – no frickin’ way – that Kirishima just –
She leans back around the trunk.
Yup. They are.
Holy moly.
She can’t believe what she’s seeing – there’s no way, no way Bakugo will let his best friend kiss him but… the seconds tick by and yep, he definitely is. More than that, he’s kissing him back, and with increasing fervor.
Ochako’s mouth hangs uselessly open as Kirishima’s hand snakes around the back of Bakugo’s neck, deepening the kiss, while Bakugo remains with his hands in his pockets like this is a normal daily occurrence despite it blowing Ochako’s mind.
She can’t believe it. She can’t believe it. But also, she totally can and suddenly a lot of things make sense and oh my gosh what she’s witnessing is unbelievably hot and –
Wait, what?
Kirishima growls something unintelligible then grabs the front of Bakugo’s shirt and shoves him against the wall. Bakugo wedges an arm between their chests in retaliation, the other still casually stuck in his pocket, and between their locked mouths Ochako’s spies that smirk – that hungry challenge that suddenly makes the pit of her stomach flutter deliciously.
Kirishima mumbles something against Bakugo’s mouth and runs a hand up the front of shirt, then it dips down and starts tugging at his belt.
Ochako’s mouth goes dry. She knows she shouldn’t be watching this. It’s a total invasion of privacy and kinda creepy and they are definitely going further than kissing and she is absolutely going to sit here and get off on it like a total perv because for some reason watching those two make out is the hottest thing she’s ever seen –
Turn away turn away turn away turn away –
She can’t. She’s weak. She’s weak, perverted trash.
As Kirishima’s hand disappears down the front of Bakugo’s pants, the blond catches his wrist and suddenly his eyes dart to the treeline –
Ochako ducks behind the trunk faster than she’s moved in her whole entire life. Her heart gallops in her chest and she clutches the math’s book like a lifeline because surely she must be floating away from the sheer terror of being caught spying on them. And she’s a terrible liar! She’ll have to tell them the truth and Bakugo will murder her. Literally. Murder. Her.
Silence prevails; there’s no footsteps or angry shouts or explosions. Just birdsong and the pounding of blood in her ears.
After what seems like a short decade, Ochako risks a glance around the tree trunk.
They’re gone.
She releases the breath she’s been holding then slumps against the trunk. Close call. But now she has to wrap her head around what she’s seen and that is going to take some time. Not that she cares about their orientation; it’s their business and she’s happy for them, but it’s still weird knowing they’ve been – what? – dating? Fooling around? And nobody knows?
Forget about it, she tells herself. You didn’t see a thing.
She reopens the textbook and tries very hard to divert her wandering attention back to mathematics.
“Fail.”
Two days later, Aizawa slams the math’s test on her desk with a disapproving look that could flatten a building. Ochako sinks into her seat and swallows a groan while Deku offers a sympathetic smile over his shoulder.
“Try harder,” Aizawa says, then much to her mortification, he adds, “You haven’t been paying attention in class, Uraraka. It’s your third year. Focus.”
Her cheeks grow a bit pink under the admonishment. Third year is relentless and everyone who fails is scolded in front of the class, perhaps with the hope that embarrassment might spark motivation in those with wandering attentions. Like Ochako, for example.
Thank goodness he doesn’t ask why her attention has been wandering, because that would make for an interesting story.
She glances around the class and is immediately speared by Bakugo’s glare. His crimson eyes are wide and furious, and he holds her startled look for a long moment before she looks hurriedly away, heart thundering in her chest.
Just a coincidence. Has to be. Because unless he’s learned to read minds, there’s no way he could know.
Which is a good thing too, because her mind is currently a trove of embarrassing fantasies all involving him and Kirishima making out behind the back of Gym Gamma while she watches. The image is burned behind her eyes, haunting her every moment; she can shake it no more than she can her quirk. She’s had fantasies before, sure, but this is different. This is consuming her like a fever and all she wants is to watch two of her classmates make out again and ugh what is wrong with her!
Aizawa dismisses the class and Ochako trudges through the door with a cloud hanging over her head. She walks to her locker, dials in her number, then starts begrudgingly hunting inside for the mathematics textbook.
“You’ll get it next time, Uraraka-san,” Deku pipes up next to her. “You want a study partner? I only came, like, fourth in the class but –“
Only. Only! She loves Deku to pieces but his ability to consistently remain top of the class for three years straight is enough to make her want to bang her head against a wall. “Who came above you?”
“The usual,” he chirps brightly. “Momo-san, Iida-kun and Kaachan.”
Ah, another name that breezes past every damn obstacle like the gods unjustly dished out all the world’s talent to one irritating, arrogant, sexy –
No not sexy, not sexy! Dammit, Ochako, this is why you failed! Learn your lesson!
“You, ah, okay…?” Deku asks, blinking at her flustered expression.
“Yeah. Just… not looking forward to the retakes. Anyway, I’m gonna go study, I guess. I can’t afford to fail again.”
Deku’s clouded look clears and he pats her companionably on the shoulder. “You’ll get it next time, Uraraka-san!”
Deku leaves her staring ruefully at the bottom of her locker. She hates failing more than anything. She’s a good hero-in-training, she knows it, but if there’s even the slightest distraction she falls – and falls hard. She can’t let some dumb boys and their dumb muscles get the best of her.
“Why do we even need algebra,” she laments as she plucks the textbook from a pile.
A hand slams shut her locker so violently she accidentally activates her quirk and sends the book floating into the air. When she spins around, she finds herself pinned to her locker by Bakugo.
His crimson eyes are furious beneath his furrowed brow and his lips are twisted into an ugly sneer. He’s shattered the boundary of her personal space, his muscular arm a whisper from her ear, and she’s honestly not sure whether he’s going to kiss her or hit her.
An image flashes unbidden before her eyes - Kirishima tugging on Bakugo’s belt while he bites his bottom lip – and her cheeks flush helplessly pink.
“Y-yes?” she squeaks as she shrinks back against the locker.
He inhales sharply like he’s going to yell at her, then seems to think better of it and straightens, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Library,” he snaps.
She blinks, still hunkered against the locker. If Bakugo is anything he’s unpredictable, and she doesn’t like that weird look in his eye. He’s annoyed about something, but it can’t be about what she saw – no way – because he would’ve blown her to bits long before now if he knew.
“Eh? Why?”
He reaches up and snatches the textbook from where its floating in the air, then tucks it under his arm. “To study, dumbass.”
Her brain works sluggishly to process what he’s saying. “With… you?”
“Yes, you idiot, who else?” He turns sharply on his heel and stomps down the hallway. “Hurry the fuck up, I wanna be in the gym by four!”
“Oh – ah – but – I…” Her fumbled protest trails off when he doesn’t slow his pace, clearly not giving a hoot about how weird it is that he’s asking her to study with him for the first time in three years for no apparent reason.
Well, fine. Maybe he can teach her the secret of being the best at everything while he’s at it.
She hurriedly collects her things and jogs after him. He snaps angrily at her when she tries to keep pace, so she falls back a few steps. Not that she minds. Her cheeks are still rosy-pink and she wants them to go back to normal by the time they reach the library, otherwise it will be weird. Well. Weirder.
It’s just a study session. Just a study session. If he was going to call you out for spying he would’ve done it before now. Chill out.
And she manages to chill out just a tad by the time they reach the library, where they work their way between the book shelves to a quiet corner at the back – only for her chill to abruptly combust when she sees who’s waiting for them at an otherwise unoccupied table.
“Yo, Uraraka,” Kirishima greets in a mock whisper. “Thought you might want some help after flunking.”
Absolute horror solders her to the spot. Her smile becomes a wobbly line. She’s pretty sure she squeaks, but also isn’t sure, because suddenly the blood is pounding in her ears and oh my god they are going to murder her in the library –
“Sit down, idiot,” Bakugo snaps before slumping into the seat beside Kirishima. “Shitty-hair only wants to help you because if you fail again then the whole class has to retake algebra.”
Fear of being murdered is banked beneath this newfound horror. “Retake algebra?”
“Yeah,” Kirishima says. “Something about group punishment bolstering teamwork. I dunno. It was weird. Guess you weren’t listening?”
No, she hadn’t been listening. She’d been thinking about Kirishima’s tongue in Bakugo’s mouth.
“Am I the only one who failed?”
“Yep!” Kirishima tells her while cheerfully cracking open a soda and passing it to Bakugo. “Lord Explosion Murder happens to be a whiz with numbers, so I convinced him to help you.”
Her eyes slide reluctantly to Bakugo, who glares at her over the top of his soda like he wants her to refute the statement, just so he has an excuse to explode her into little bits. “I mean… I could just ask Momo. N-not that I’m ungrateful for your help or anything – I totally am – but I don’t want to be a bother and I’m sure you guys have more important stuff to do.”
Kirishima cracks open a second soda for himself and lifts an eyebrow. She swears to god there’s a playful spark in his eye, but she can’t be sure. “Such as?”
Making out behind the back of Gym Gamma. “Sparring.”
“I’m not helping you,” Bakugo declares hotly while side-eyeing Kirishima. “This was your stupid idea so you can teach her.”
Kirishima’s jaw drops. “Wha-? But I’m not even that good at –“
“I’m not gonna waste my time teachin’ someone who can’t pay attention in class. It’s basic fucking algebra. If she can’t pick it up then she can drop out with the rest of the sub-par losers.” He tugs a pair of airpods from his pocket and jams them in his ears, then slams another textbook onto the table and opens it. “Don’t talk to me. Some of us have actual studying to do.”
Kirishima and Ochako share a despondent look.
“Sorry,” Kirishima whispers, more so Bakugo can’t hear him over the music blaring from his airpods. “He changes his mind like that sometimes. But, uh, I came tenth in the class, so I should be able to help a little bit.”
“Tenth is really good!” Ochako exclaims, pressing her fingers together as she drops into the seat opposite him. “Thanks for taking the time to help me.”
Kirishima shrugs blithely and grins. “You’re a quick learner! And smart. I was surprised when you failed, honestly. You’re usually top ten nowadays.”
His easy, boyish smile makes her stomach turn somersaults and she fights back the color spreading across her cheeks. Kirishima is a little eccentric with his shock of red hair and pointed teeth, but he’s roguishly good looking. A bit like Bakugo, she supposes, although it’s hard to tell when he’s constantly scowling and sneering and snarling like a rabid dog.
When did I start getting these thoughts? she wonders despairingly as she thumbs through the pages of her textbook.
And so for the next fifteen minutes Ochako valiantly attempts to relearn the basics under Kirishima’s tuition. He’s an energetic and thorough teacher, and somehow makes something as god-awful as algebra entertaining.
Meanwhile, Bakugo ignores the pair and powers through his textbook with aggressive focus. His eyes whisk across the page at a rate faster than she can comprehend, and he chews on the inside of his cheek with an expression that sits somewhere between petulant and thoughtful.
Kirishima taps her on the back of the hand and she startles. Darn. Caught staring.
“Distracted?” He’s wearing a smirk that is far too knowing for Ochako’s liking, and she swallows down a knot of panic.
“Ah, s-sorry, I just, um… can’t concentrate lately. There’s a lot of pressure in third year, right?”
Kirishima shifts in his seat and she’s suddenly aware that the table is way too narrow for his long legs. Their knees bump occasionally and somehow she knows – just knows – that his and Bakugo’s legs are carelessly pressed against one another’s under the table. It reminds her of how their legs entwined when Kirishima rammed Bakugo against the wall, the latter’s hands stuffed in his pockets so naturally while Kirishima pushed up the front of his shirt –
Stop thinking about it!
“I get it,” Kirishima tells her, still wearing that lazy smirk. “You and I are kinda alike, Uraraka.”
“Eh?”
“Easily distracted.”
“Oh…” Where is this going?
“Not all of us are blessed with razor sharp focus like some people.” He jerks his head toward the oblivious Bakugo. “But the best thing I’ve found – for me, anyway - is to let yourself get distracted once in a while. Embrace it. Eventually the distraction becomes part of your routine and isn’t so, well, distracting anymore.”
Ochako stares obliviously at him. She has no idea what he’s hinting at. “Uh…huh.”
“In fact, it can be a real motivator.” Kirishima leans forward, eyes glittering, knees brushing against hers under the table. “You need some motivation, Uraraka?”
“Um… I don’t –“
With no forewarning Kirishima suddenly grabs Bakugo’s jaw and smashes his lips against his. Bakugo splutters in surprise and grabs the front of Kirishima’s shirt and for a second she’s absolutely sure he’s going to blast him through the wall, but then Kirishima trails his hand along the blond’s jaw and into his hair, and Bakugo’s grip on his shirt slackens just a fraction.
Ochako is struck dumb. She pinches herself under the table. Nope, definitely not dreaming. Which means Kirishima and Bakugo are definitely making out in front of her in the middle of the damn library like it’s no big deal and what is happening –
Bakugo jerks away from Kirishima’s face –
“Oi, the fuck do you think you’re doing, we’re in the fucking library –“
- but Kirishima cuts him off with another kiss that nearly knocks him out the chair. He slams his hand onto the table to stay upright while Kirishima takes advantage of his grunt of annoyance by pushing his tongue into his mouth. Ochako knows this because she has a very clear view from exactly two feet away, which is sorta mind blowing; it’s one thing seeing it from a distance and another seeing it this close.
It’s… better. Way, way better.
For whatever reason Bakugo does not care about her open-mouthed gawping. His eyes close as he runs his tongue along Kirishima’s bottom lip, then bites it hard enough to make Kirishima grunt. Their tongues slide together before Bakugo tilts his head and their lips lock, jaws moving in unison. The sound of sucking and ragged breathing sinks into Ochako’s brain and she knows she’s going to be hearing this long after they stop.
And so for what feels like the longest thirty seconds of Ochako’s life, she’s entranced by the sight of two boys making out within arm’s reach.
Until Kirishima runs his hand up her thigh under the table.
She shrieks – an unholy noise that echoes around the silent library – and stands so hastily her knees hit the table and sends stars flashing in front of her eyes. The spell is broken, and they stop kissing to look at her, and all the words she’s ever learned hurtle into outer space.
So she does the only rational thing she can think of: she runs away.
In the silent library, she clearly hears Kirishima’s smug ‘Told you’ and Bakugo’s dismissive scoff.