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An Updated Relationship Status Is A Kindness

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The students of class 2-A have been witness to a lot in their time.

Some saw things before entering Yuuei, but everyone has seen much, much more since their induction into the halls and classes of the top hero academy. They've seen villains defeated and heroes defeated; the great highs and lows of the world they're planning to enter, and more blood and violence than they're really comfortable with at this stage of their education.

Collectively, they've seen some truly weird and awful shit, but none of them have ever seen anything like the bizarre relationship between Midoriya and Bakugou. They're not even sure where it fits on the scale.

"Imposters," Hakagure says. "Shape-shifters? Or like, some kind of Freaky Friday scenario."

"You mean like, body swapping?" Jirou asks, and dutifully writes it down at Hakagure's affirmative. "With who?"

"Less dysfunctional people," Sero says. "Who cares who, just that I like these people better."

There's a scattering of agreement that makes its way through those gathered, a few nodding heads.

"I don't know," Ojiro chimes in quietly. "New Bakugou's preferable, but Midoriya is starting to scare me."

The agreement this time is unanimous, the group huddled around Jirou's desk all nodding in creepy unison.

"You think it's a villain?" Kaminari whispers. "Undercover spy villain that can like, shape-shift, or--"

"I'm not writing that down," Jirou says. "You're just repeating what's already there."

"--or brainwashing? Don't we have a guy with a brainwashing quirk around here?"

"That's rude to even suggest," Shouji says as Jirou adds it to the list. "I think if we look at the facts and consider what we know about the two of them, it's obvious what's happening."

Everyone looks at him, Hakagure making a little circular go on motion with her gloves. Shouji crosses two of his arms and uses the others to shrug blandly. "They've finally broken each other."

There's a collective hum that ripples through the group as they consider this.

"Interesting," Yaoyorozu says. "You're suggesting that rather than looking to outside forces, their issues with each other have reach crucial capacity, effectively pushing them past a point of mental stability?"

"He's saying that Bakugou is being quiet and twitchy and Midoriya is being intense and scary," Sero says. "So either they've finally gone mad, or they switched bodies--personalities?--whatever."

"How am I even supposed to word that?" Jirou asks. "Localised insanity?"

"Mental break," Tokoyami says, from his seat behind the group. He's not technically a part of this whole conspiracy gossip thing, but he can't help but overhear.

"Mental break," Shouji agrees.

Jirou writes it down.



It starts with little things.

What the class has to continually remind themselves is that things like rationality and the rules of civil engagement do not--and never have--applied to Bakugou and Midoriya when they're in the same vicinity.

Individually, they're relatively okay. Midoriya is a ray of pure sunshine and determination that has seen them through some of the class's darkest times and strangest tests. Bakugou is less agreeable, but consistently at the top of the class and no less a force that they all know they can depend on when shit gets real.

Together, and they're like betta fish in a single bowl. They lock eyes and inevitably something ends up broken and something else ends up on fire, damn the consequences. 

This is just a universal fact within 2-A; they've made their peace with it and have a silent understanding to strategically keep the two of them apart wherever possible.

So when Bakugou starts staring and following Midoriya to lunch for a month, and Midoriya responds to this with no less than three demolished buildings and two incapacitated classmates on separate occasions, it's enough to set off warning bells.

Quiet ones, because this is still somewhat expected in the range of Bakugou-Midoriya interactions, but they take notice.

The little things keep happening, and the sense of alarm within the class grows.

Mineta starts crying when he learns he's part of Midoriya's team project, because only days before Midoriya had walked right into him and then told him to watch where he's standing because he's too small to see. Todoroki gets the same kind of treatment, though he thankfully doesn't cry about it.

Iida is quietly indignant that he got dropped in favour of an argument, which makes Midoriya's whole friends-before-enemies spiel to him in the Stain incident slightly hypocritical.

Bakugou's project team make a silent pact to just do all the work and make him, like, the final editor, because he's been acting like a grenade with its pin pulled: all quiet simmering menace and crazy eyes that's better left alone.   

The class hasn't been this on edge since the last time villains decided to crash one of their early second year training exercises. Half the class think back on that event fondly now, because at least they knew what they were up against then. 

The most alarming thing of all, though, is that it stops almost as soon as it starts with no clear cause.

And that's when things start getting weird.  



Ashido takes one look at the tableau of books and tea and intense discussion taking place over the kitchen bench and very quietly slides back out, only turning around when she reaches the couches where a small group has gathered to watch the scene unfold with morbid fascination.

"Can anyone explain to me why Yao-Momo is trying to explain the appeal of Mr. Darcy to Bakugou in the kitchen?" She says lowly. "What exactly am I looking at here?"

"We don't know," Sero says with an edge of distress in his voice. "They were already deep into it when we came in." 

"I tried asking," Iida adds. "Do you know what Bakugou-kun said to me? He said--well, something I don't wish to repeat, but then he told me to leave unless I had any insight into why anyone would fall for such a--a dick!"

"The irony," Jirou groans, slumped into the couch cushions. "Maybe someone thought this would be a funny way to raise his self-awareness."

Ashido looks back towards the kitchen, where Bakugou is flipping through pages in clear frustration. Yaoyorozu is speaking quietly and calmly, pouring out another tea for the both of them.

"You don't think he's, like, hitting on her or something, do you?" She whispers conspiratorially, startling when Iida stands abruptly enough to knock his knees into the coffee table.

"Sit back down," Jirou mutters, slumping further as if to demonstrate how to relax in the face of terrifying concepts like Bakugou and romance. "Not even Bakugou's that brazen. Probably."

"That!" Bakugou yells, startling the group and violently shoving the book over to Yaoyorozu to point angrily at a something. "This prick is a clear asshole, how the fuck does this bullshit mean he likes her?!"

"'Likes' her?" Sero whispers, sounding slightly more distressed.

"See?" Jirou says. "I don't think he's even hit mental puberty yet."

Iida sits back down, looking weirdly mollified by this.

Taking out one unlikely option doesn't really help explain what they're looking at though. If anything, it raises more questions, like why the actual hell Bakugou is trying to understand one of the great romantic works to the point of having coloured sticky notes littered throughout the pages. 

"My worldview can't take this," Sero says. "I'm going to my room and forgetting any of this happened."

They all end up following suit.



Contrary to what most people think, Tokoyami is not a natural night person. He may have Dark Shadow as a quirk, but that doesn't mean he likes being up at all hours, lurking around in the dark.

It just means Dark Shadow can be a dick and--like its name suggests--enjoys the dark enough to bully Tokoyami into being up and about at weird times of the night.

This is why he's the one who finds Midoriya standing in the kitchen, bathed in full fluorescent light at a quarter to three in the morning. He appears to be waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing, swaying slightly side to side as each drip falls.

Tokoyami doesn't want to get involved, but he also feels like maybe he should at least make sure Midoriya is okay before bailing back to his room.

"Good morning, Tokoyami-kun," Midoriya says, still staring at the coffee machine and swaying. Tokoyami has no idea how Midoriya even knew he was here, but now he's definitely got an obligation to say something.

"Good morning," Tokoyami replies, stepping fully into the kitchen. Since he's here, he might as well get something to drink; he eyes the half-full coffee pot. "Can't sleep?"  

Midoriya hums vaguely. "Thinking. Did you know biting is a form of dominance?" he says. "It's the natural progression of baring teeth."

Okay, Tokoyami thinks. It's a really good thing that everyone already knows that Midoriya is a walking collection of random knowledge and poor brain-to-mouth filter, or else this would easily be one of the creepiest things Tokoyami has ever encountered in the dark. 

"Only there's no clear dominant," Midoriya continues, "which suggests equal action and reaction. You know what happens then? Both parties win. Or lose, I guess, but I think this is a win."

He grins triumphantly at Tokoyami and there's a faint smear of blood at the corner of his bottom lip. 

Yeah. This is officially now the creepiest thing he has ever encountered in the dark. This is what he gets for getting involved.

"Congratulations on your victory," Tokoyami says politely and melds back into the shadows.



At some point, the cloud of confusion that hangs over the class became a source of great amusement for both Todoroki and Kirishima.

Everyone largely suspects they have answers and are withholding their knowledge for petty reasons, like laughing every time they're handed one of the many surveys that go around.

One night, on the tail end of a study group that accomplishes nothing other than how to translate morse code into increasingly panicked eyebrow movements, Midoriya pulls both Todoroki and Kirishima into a corner and starts having what appears to be a silent meltdown.

This seems to be a calculated move, since he'd seemed fine right up until Bakugou had shoved a hand in his hair on his way past to the stairs.

Honestly, everyone still sitting around feel like they want to have a meltdown about it too.  

Kaminari waves frantically until he gets Kirishima's attention. Using his newfound powers of eyebrow morse code, he signals 'what'.

Kirishima shrugs half-heartedly and goes back to giving Midoriya the double thumbs up. Todoroki looks like he wants to break them, and Midoriya himself doesn't even see them because he's buried his face in his hands.

"Does Midoriya-kun look really red to you?" Aoyama says. "I really hope that's cry-red, and not mad-red."

Uraraka cracks her knuckles, looking far more dangerous than even Midoriya on his angriest day. "All I need is a reason," she says, heedless as everyone scoots further away from her. "Doesn't matter what kind of upset Deku-kun is, just that he is."

"I don't think Midoriya is upset," Asui offers, the only one who stayed her ground. "I think he's embarrassed."

As one, they all look back to the corner; Midoriya and Kirishima now both seem to be consoling Todoroki, who's pinching the bridge of his nose and looking more weary than any high schooler should.

They looked away for a second, what the hell kind of exchange happened in that time? This makes legitimately less sense than anything else leading up to it.

"Maybe they're all having a love quadrangle," Asui murmurs.

Kaminari shrugs. Sure, why the fuck not.



The classroom blackboard displays the names Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, and Kirishima arranged like corners of a square. An intricate mass of lines connects them. It looks like one of those boards from detective shows, all it's missing is crime scene photos and red string.  

"The theory goes like this," Ashido says, and then points to the four names in a random sequence multiple times. "Bakugou and Kirishima, Kirishima and Todoroki, Todoroki and Midoriya, Midoriya and Bakugou, Bakugou and Todoroki, Kirishima and Midoriya. Right?"

There's silence as they all try to figure that out and piece it into something that makes sense.

"You're overthinking this," Aizawa says from his place under the desk. Iida frantically starts erasing the blackboard and berating himself for letting this defilement even happen. "Polygamy exists, and also you're all way off base."

There's a pause. Even Iida stops his frantic scrubbing.

"Are you saying--"

"I'm saying get out of my classroom and take your poorly thought out relationship drama somewhere else."  

So probably not a love quadrangle, then. They trust in Aizawa-sensei as both a teacher, and also as a scarily well-informed underground hero who knows about things he has no right knowing about.



Bakugou Katsuki is not as manly as he thinks he is.

Kirishima will never tell Bakugou this, because he values their friendship and his own continual existence, but on a scale of zero to peak manly, Bakugou comes in somewhere around the you tried, buddy mark.

He's confident, strong, wilful, and dependable in many ways.

He's also a poor loser and takes very badly to any and all kind of criticism, which has the unfortunate tendency to twist his positive traits into far less favourable ones.

And this isn't even taking into account the special kind of dick Bakugou becomes when Midoriya is involved. Kirishima can only grade the dude on what he's witnessed himself, but he suspects that past behaviour would not help his score here in the least. If Kirishima is truly honest with himself, the reason he doesn't want to know about that with any certainty is because he's almost certain that it'll put Bakugou into the negatives, and Kirishima really likes him as a friend, now, as his current disagreeable but mid-manly self.

It's a selfish ignorance, but the fact that Midoriya also seems to operate on the same forgive/forget system makes him feel slightly better about it.

"You fucking--!" Bakugou yells. "Did you just break something?!"

Midoriya tries a faint shrug from his awkward position laying in the rubble and winces. "It's a possibility," he says and sits up slowly, supporting himself with his left arm and staring down at where his right drags uselessly with the movement. "Or--no, I think I just dislocated it. We're good."

Bakugou's teeth grind loudly.

Kirishima does not want to know the particulars of where Midoriya's pain tolerance comes from. A dislocation is something that a startlingly large portion of the class has suffered at some point or another, and really isn't that much to worry about with Recovery Girl on hand, but he thinks it still has to hurt. "You sure you're okay, bro?"

"Hm?" Midoriya hums, distracted by slapping at Bakugou's hands. Bakugou's hands, which Kirishima notes are hovering around Midoriya without quite touching, flitting here and there like he wants to but isn't sure he trusts himself enough to close the gap. "Yeah, this isn't--would you stop that? It's fine."

"Everything's always fucking fine with you," Bakugou mutters lowly, taking a step back and offering a hand.

Midoriya stares at it for a second before taking it, rising to his feet with only a faint, pained huff.

Later--much, much later when nobody in their right mind should be bothering others when they should be sleeping--Kirishima is treated to the rare sight of shame on Bakugou's face.

"It pisses me off," he says angrily. "Like I haven't done enough to him, he has to go and do it to himself and then he has the fucking gall to tell me it's fine. It's not fuckin' fine."

And Kirishima thinks, as much as this is an admission of guilt, it also says a lot about how Bakugou feels about it. Kirishima really does like this Bakugou, the one who's learning to take criticism and responsibility for his actions.

He adds another manly mark into his mental scoreboard for Bakugou. A few more displays of humility like that and the dude might finally tip over to something that is actually respectable.  



Both Bakugou and Midoriya start disappearing during their lunch breaks.

Nobody's sure how long this has been happening, since they normally run with different circles, but now it's been noticed they have to add it to the puzzle.  

If it were any other pair, it would be fine. But it's this pair, and nobody has an answer for where they go.

"Deku-kun's been doing this for a while," Uraraka says. "He won't say where he goes, but I've seen Bakugou-kun around when he's not, so maybe they're not in the same place?"

"It's possible," Iida puts in. "There's been no damage to the school, and Midoriya-kun doesn't seem injured when he returns; this leads me to believe that wherever Midoriya-kun might be spending his time, it's not with Bakugou-kun."

Todoroki snorts. Everyone ignores him because he clearly knows something but won't let them in on what that something is, so he doesn't get an opinion.

"That means nothing," Kaminari says. "It's not as if they're gonna start a full-blown fight right on school grounds."

The gathered group stares at him long enough that Kaminari starts wondering if he's short-circuited himself.

"Lately," he corrects defensively. "They don't seem like they'd start a brawl with each other lately."

In fact, lately, it seems like whatever they're up to, aggression is no longer the deciding factor. The betta fish have apparently come to an agreement in their single bowl and can now invade each other's space without even the barest hint of a physical fight.

The fact that they still verbally fight all the time while standing shoulder to shoulder is what stops the class from losing its shit entirely, because it's a comforting gesture of normalcy in this brand new touchy reality they've found themselves in.

"Why can't you guys just let this go?" Kirishima says and shoves a piece of tamagoyaki into his mouth. "They're hanging out and nobody's getting hurt, I'm not seeing the issue here. This is a good thing.

Todoroki grunts, but doesn't argue the point. Kirishima rolls his eyes anyway; Todoroki doesn't know how lucky he is, with his pure and delightful half of the equation. Todoroki isn't treated to Bakugou kicking his door down at all hours to blurt embarrassing truths at him while in the midst of a personality crisis. Todoroki thinks he knows, but Todoroki doesn't know like Kirishima knows.

Everyone else just looks at each other, waggling their eyebrows furiously in their refusal to be the one to say what they're all thinking.

Uraraka sighs in defeat. "We know it's good," she says. "We're just not sure it's, y'know, good, with what they were like."

The group shifts awkwardly, each remembering what they were like before shit got weird.

"Oh," Kirishima says, wincing as understanding blooms across his face. "Yeah, no, that's good, too. One hundred percent A-OK, you guys don't need to worry about that anymore."

Todoroki snorts again. "Yeah, but now try and make it sound convincing."

Kirishima flips him off this time.



"The internet keeps telling me that holding hands is a thing," Midoriya says. "We've never held hands. Should we be holding hands? I don't see how holding hands is giving a relationship more legitimacy, if it's just physical contact then they should just say physical contact."

Todoroki hums noncommittally from his place on the bed. He wants to point out that the definition of physical contact has a wide scope and that the differences between both ends are extreme. He wants to, but he also can't be bothered to explain those differences to a person who considers fighting as a precursor to flirting.

He grew up with Endeavour as a father, and even he can see how that's messed up.

"What's your problem with hand-holding?" He asks instead. "It sounds normal enough."

For one, it's in all the movies. And two, in the case of Midoriya and Bakugou, hand-holding would limit the use of at least two limbs between them should violence happen; Todoroki isn't seeing a downside.

Midoriya clearly does though, enough that he spins in his chair and shifts his glaring from the laptop screen to Todoroki himself. "You're aware of how Explosion works as a quirk, right?"

The secretion of a nitroglycerine-like substance though the sweat glands located in the palm of Bakugou's hands, which can then be ignited to create powerful explosions.

Todoroki is beginning to see his point.  

"Sweaty hands," Midoriya says and makes a face.

Like sweaty hands are the most objectionable part of the whole thing, and not the fact that that is only one part of a two part process that ends in fire and possible dismemberment.

"Maybe when it's cold enough to wear gloves," Midoriya mutters to himself, turning back to his laptop.

Todoroki sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on.



And so it happens the class settles down for a bit.

The two not directly involved seem to think that whatever is happening is for the best--even if Todoroki is less enthusiastic about it--and that's good enough to quiet down some of the interest.

The rest is lost because neither Midoriya or Bakugou do anything all that interesting or weird for enough time that the class almost forgets that they were being weird in the first place. Some suspect that they're just accustom to it now.

They still want to know what it is, but it's apparently not villains or (more) mental instability in two of their heaviest hitters, and that's reassuring enough to put them at ease for the time being.



Midoriya kicks Bakugou in the shin, right as he really starts pitching a fit in their shared kitchen.

Bakugou swears--normal--and then asks Midoriya what the fuck it was for while bent over, cradling his shin and not actually retaliating in any way.

"Are you really planning to get expelled over Pocari Sweat?" Midoriya asks and then he just leans in and pats Bakugou on the shoulder, like touching Bakugou when he's on the edge of one of his intense meltdowns is just something people do.

Like it's something that Midoriya feels safe enough to do. To Bakugou.

Even considering their new non-aggressive threshold for normal, invading each other's personal space on a good day is one thing; approaching a live bomb when the trigger has historically always been you is another thing entirely.

It's abnormal.

Bakugou swings his head around and bites him on the wrist, grinning meanly at the noise of surprise Midoriya lets out at the move.

The world steadies a bit.

Those gathered wish they were as surprised as Midoriya, but no. They're surprised about a lot of things going down right now, but Bakugou biting someone is not one of them.

"I'm gonna find who stole my shit and I won't just be expelled, I'll be arrested, and it'll be worth it," he spits, turning his glare to the group of onlookers. "Which one of you chucklefucks was it, tell me and I promise you a quick death."

"It's a bottle of Pocari Sweat," Midoriya stresses, still inexplicably touching Bakugou, at the same time as Kirishima says, "Me, it was me. Sorry bro."

Nobody contests this, because Kirishima is one of the few that might actually make it out alive even if he was guilty. He's not, obviously, but they're also not really in the mood for playing a game of whodunit with the world's most irrational victim-cum-detective.

Sometimes, a true hero must take the fall for the greater good. Kirishima is the truest of them all, even when he's lying.

"The fuck it was," Bakugou snaps, pointing a threatening finger at them. "You're all dead, all of you, except for wannabe-Spartacus over there."

"Legitimately a thing that can be replaced from a vending machine," Midoriya whines.

He is still touching Bakugou. Those on the far left even think they see him rubbing a calming hand over his shoulder blades.

"Let's go find a vending machine, Kacchan," Midoriya says, and starts unceremoniously pushing Bakugou towards the doors. "I'll even buy it for you."

"Fuck you and your charity," Bakugou says, and lets himself be pushed out the doors.

Again, with absolutely no physical or verbal retaliation to Midoriya pushing him around.

"Huh," Uraraka says into the ensuing silence and is echoed by a murmur of collective wonderment.

"He marks everything with a giant red K, you guys," Kirishima sighs. "You gotta pay more attention to what you're taking out of the fridge."



It's Mineta that discovers the answer. There's some kind of delightful karmic irony in that, Yaoyorozu thinks, right before what he's saying really registers.

"Kissing!" He screams hysterically. "There was kissing! Full, dude-on-dude lip action!"

Everyone sitting around the tables stop to stare at him.

"We've all clicked on the wrong video at some point, man." Kaminari says into the silence. "You need to learn to internalise these things."

"No!" He screeches, climbing up on an empty chair to look them in the eye. "Midoriya! Bakugou! Midoriya and Bakugou, like--like--"

Mineta makes a sound suspiciously like a sob and starts miming with his hands. Yaoyorozu really wishes he'd stop, because people are trying to eat.

"They were all--" the sound of Mineta's hands slapping together, "and then like--" vigorous rubbing of palms. 

"Whatever that is supposed to be," Sero murmurs faintly, "it sure ain't kissing."

Iida raises a hand tentatively, looking a weird mix of scandalised and hopeful. "Are you sure they weren't just... fighting?"

Everyone ignores Todoroki's low, "why not both" and Kirishima's answering sigh, because they still don't get an opinion here.

"Tongue fighting is not a thing," Mineta says gravely, before clearly thinking about it. "Is it? I mean, I'd watch that. But not with two dudes, y'know? Ladies are important to these things. Like lady mud wrestling--classy, right? There's nothing classy about balls slipping out on a rainy day."

Yaoyorozu very neatly places her fork down and pushes her plate away.

"Well," she says, not really sure what to say to this but determined to be the voice of reason in a room suspended between states of shock and disbelief. Really, she should have seen this coming the instant Bakugou had asked for help in disassembling the romantic aspects of Jane Austen. "I'm glad they've found a way to sort out their differences."

Apparently, this is the wrong thing to say as everyone dissolves into chaos: talking over each other with their own exclamations and questions, asking Mineta if he's sure he saw what he thought he saw, and also to describe it in detail.

"I was joking about the star-crossed lovers thing!" Sero says. "I thought Midoriya put money on that because he thought it was funny, not because it's true!"

"Does this mean all of their past bullshit was just pigtail pulling?" Jirou asks to no one, and is answered by Ashido cackling and saying, "We gotta bake him a cake. Rikidou, can you bake him a cake? Make it say 'congrats on finally doing it'--double meanings, totally can't lose."

"Absolutely not!" Iida yells when Hakagure suggests a dick-shaped cake would cover all their bases and communicate just as well.

"I can do rainbow colours," Rikidou offers quietly, looking frozen and awkward in the middle.  

Yaoyorozu watches as half the class pull at their hair, reflecting on all they know about the two involved and debating everything that could wrong, while the other half enthusiastically argue about what aspects of the relationship the congratulatory cake should be congratulating.

Kirishima is focusing on the former side, trying to appease their fears with steady determination and a sincere belief that absolutely no death or grievous injury will become of this, despite historical evidence to the contrary.

"Their first domestic is going to tear this family apart," Mineta whines, sounding teary at the thought. "Everything we've built together, in ruins."

"Mom and dad love us, bro," Kaminari says and pats him comfortingly on the back. "It'll be okay."

"Right," Kirishima nods. "We all passed our conflict resolution tests, we've got nothing to worry about."

"I think the safest and wisest thing would be to stay out of it," Tokoyami says from his indifferent position at the end of the table. Yaoyorozu isn't quite sure whether he already knew, or if he just doesn't care; his face a steady neutral for the entire revelation. "At the very least, not provoke them with incendiary cakes."  

"We just want to give them a reward," Ashido says. "They're touching each other in good ways, we should be encouraging it."

"With penis cake," Todoroki says.

"With penis cake," Ashido agrees, high-fiving the hand Todoroki offers. Kirishima raises an eyebrow at the apparent pact they've formed.

Todoroki shugs at the look. "I've been through things. Did you know ducks have corkscrew dicks? Because you do now, and that's why they deserve this cake."

"Bro." Kirishima sighs with the beginnings of exasperation and then pauses. Nods. "Yeah, now you mention it, dick cake is kinda appropriate."

"I don't think I have a cake tin for that," Rikidou says, sounding more alarmed the more the consensus turns in favour of a phallic cake shape. "I don't want to buy a cake tin for that."    

Yaoyorozu looks around and takes in the reactions now that the shock has worn off. For all that there's some moaning about imminent demise and groaning about how the staircase to the boys rooms are defiled, there's a thread of acceptance running throughout the conversation. It seems that no matter their personal reservations, each of her classmates recognise that this is something that should be supported.

She smiles, ignoring her own proper blush as she claps her hands together to get their attention. "I know of a patisserie that makes custom orders. I'd be happy to organise a cake of your design."  

The response is delighted and thankful--but none as thankful as Rikidou when he realises this lets him off the hook for dick cake.



For about two days, the students of class 2-A--minus Midoriya and Bakugou--start acting... weird.

"Mineta-kun keeps asking if he can follow me around and 'film my day'. For 'the internet'," Midoriya says, twisting his head and getting a face full of unidentifiable debris from the floor. "When was the last time you cleaned in here? He keeps stressing about the importance of 'doing everything' like he's not there. I keep telling him no, but I think he's been doing it secretly."

"Clean it yourself if it makes you so unhappy," Bakugou says, pushing away his laptop with a shove and falling backwards to lay on a seemingly clear patch beside him. The movement sends up a cloud of dust and ash. "Shit, fine. Is that why Pinky is stalking me with her fucking phone?"

"I think they're in cahoots. Doing something. Todoroki-kun knows something but won't tell me what it is. The way he looks at me--the way everyone's being shifty, have you noticed?--I'm scared to ask."

Bakugou hums vaguely, staring at his ceiling. He can honestly say he has not noticed, because his classmates are largely beneath his notice on a good day--with the exception of Ashido, who seems to always be there when he turns around, giving him the thumbs up for fuck-all reason as far as Bakugou can tell, and Kirishima, who's been acting normal.

"Rikidou-kun baked me cookies," Midoriya continues. "Came by with Tokoyami-kun, who said--I quote--they mean well and we had nothing to do with it'. With what? I don't know. I hate not knowing, but I'm not sure I want to know, you know?"

"What? No, wait, shut up. I just realised how much I don't give a fuck, let the losers do whatever," Bakugou says, rolling himself over with a lazy grunt and hauling himself off the floor. It is legitimately disgusting now that he's on it and he deserves better than rolling around in filth. Midoriya seems perfectly happy to stay there, however, which Bakugou finds typical; like Stand users, shit attracts shit.

He kicks out a foot, catching Midoriya in the side lightly. "Get up. Move. I will throw you out with the rest of the trash."

Midoriya responds to this by moving with great theatrics, hefting himself up at glacial pace and making a displeased face as bits of him crack and creak after laying so long on the hardwood. 

"I would question who raised you," he says, "but I'm pretty sure I've heard your mother use that exact threat on you."  

"Are you trying to say something to me, asshole?"

"Yes," Midoriya says, and opens Bakugou's door to a gathering in the hallway just outside, clearly eavesdropping.

"Are you sure this isn't a joke?" Sero asks to nobody in particular before scattering like the rest of them.

"Cockroaches! You better run!" Bakugou yells after them.

"This is why you should always keep a clean room," Midoriya says, and leaves to go check his own room for hidden recording devices. Normally he likes to trust his classmates, but lately he thinks maybe he better, for his own peace of mind.



They present the cake with all the pomp and parade of a birthday party, crowding the two recipients in close with pats on the back and wide smiles and a rain of confetti.

The patisserie did an amazing job with it, considering Yaoyorozu couldn't bring herself to describe what she wanted and had settled on a vague description. "You can't just ask for a dick straight out," Ashido had said after her minor meltdown about propriety. "You gotta like, describe something totally different that has the same kinda shape."

Yaoyorozu has to admit, those old wheeled canons are near impossible to differentiate when one covers it in pink icing and removes things like decency and distinguishing details.

"What's the occasion?" Midoriya stutters uncertainly, staring down at the cake like he can't quite bring himself to ask what it's supposed to be, but he suspects he knows and wants to be wrong.

"A dick cake to celebrate two of our biggest dicks being into each other's dicks," Ashido, Hakagure, Kaminari, and Kirishima all chorus together, clearly planned and rehearsed. Hakagure's gloves spice it up with some jazz hands.

"The candle in the tip was my idea," Mineta says. "Which one of you wants to do the honours and blow it?"

Yaoyorozu subtly kicks the chair he's standing on.

"Oh my god," Midoriya whispers, mortified. And then again, "Oh my god. You guys bought us a penis cake?"

Bakugou twitches from where he still hasn't taken his eyes off the thing, his face starting to look worryingly red. "Choke it down," Todoroki warns quietly, sliding up to where he stands unmoving and broken.

"We used the bet winnings, yeah," Sero says. "Or rather, your bet winnings, which were won in dishonest and underhanded circumstances. So technically, you bought yourself congratulatory penis cake."

Midoriya makes a strangled noise. "Thanks," he says, sounding the opposite of thankful, and buries his face in his hands.

"I still don't understand why the fuck this in front of me," Bakugou says evenly, finally ready to join the party after a visible attempt at reigning himself in. "Why does this exist?"

"Because we want to support and encourage your relationship with each other," Yaoyorozu says.

"'Cause you guys made the stairs unsafe with your making out and like, good for you, but also dick move, my dudes," Kaminari says at the same time.

"Oh," Midoriya squeaks, head snapping up before wincing back down into his shoulders. "You guys saw that, huh. Um. ...Sorry?"

"I'm not," Bakugou offers. 

"Ignore him," Jirou says, walking over from the kitchen with a knife. "He's just upset because his body pillow doesn't kiss him back. We gonna cut this or what?"

As one, all the boys stare down at the cake and wince; they've just discovered a downside to this joke.

Two downsides. 

"I'm not putting any part of that in my mouth," Bakugou says and proceeds to viciously elbow anyone who even looks like they've got some smartass response to that.

"Just the tip?" Uraraka says, offering a paper plate to Bakugou like a challenge. He grinds his teeth but reluctantly takes the proffered cake; he can't fight it, it's a matter of pride now.

"It's not that bad, Kacchan," Midoriya says, ignoring his own red face and shoving a piece in his mouth. "It's actually... really good? Thanks, you guys."

He sounds like he means it this time.

And well, the whole idea is to support them, and nobody is too manly to argue free cake--phallic or not.