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If you’re going to wear a goddamn button down in your dick pic then at least have the fucking decency to leave it open. Okay hand positioning. Your lighting is waaaay too fuckin dark. 6/10


Bakugou slumps in his seat as he posts the last rating in his inbox and checks down the row of seats. Present Mic has made it to his row. He hates having to come to class for these stupid writing conferences, but at least he can go back to his dorm as soon as Mic finishes reviewing his stupid paper. He glances at the four pages of bullshit on the desk next to him and winces. Usually he wouldn’t have had to write it in one night, but between his remedial classes and the rest of his workload this deadline snuck up on him. He rests his head on his arms and sighs. 


He hears the classroom door open and shut and someone shuffles in late, taking a seat in the last row directly behind him. 


“Long night, Bakuho?”


Shit. Bakugou’s lip curls. Monoma. The bastard seems to have a vendetta against damn near half the freshman class, himself included. He doesn’t know what his issue is, but he also doesn’t want to fucking deal with it today either. 


“Huh… you know,” the human embodiment of all things bitch continued, “I’d be more worried about keeping your head up before ah... anything else .”


What? “Fuck!” Bakugou hissed, slamming his laptop shut. He had forgotten to change his tab, switch to Word, anything to hide the incriminating sight of his blog from anyone. And now Monoma has seen it. Awesome.


“What is that? A hobby of yours? It figures that all those rumours about you being a cock connoisseur would actually turn out to be true.” Monoma laughs, loud enough for Mic to glance up before going back to critiquing Sero’s paper. 


Bakugou’s ears burn. Any other time he could take this from the copy cunt but in the middle of class ? Sure he was shameless, but he definitely drew the line at his professors knowing his hobbies. “Would you shut your pathetic fucking mouth, dipshit? I’ll fucking destroy you if you breathe another word of this.” 


“So it’s your blog. I should have known only you were capable of that level of filth. I wish I could say I was surprised.” The bastard sneers.


Bakugou’s hands curl into fists on the desk in front of him. If this bitch was looking for a fight he’d get one, but not in the middle of his 10 a.m. English class. So instead, he plasters his usual smirk on his face and turns around, leaning on Monoma’s desk. 


“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about me a lot there, babe.” He drawls. “If you’re that curious about my… palette, I’d be happy to help myself to a taste.” 


Well, shit. That worked better than Katsuki could have hoped. Monoma immediately pulls back in his seat. He blanches slightly, before blooming scarlet from the neck up. “F-fucking slut. Do you have a single ounce of shame?”


“Nope!” Bakugou pops the p happily before sneering at the other blond. “Now fuck off, will you?” And with that he turns back to his own desk, where Mic is just now approaching to discuss his polished turd of a paper. Monoma doesn’t say a word for the rest of class, and Bakugou is more than satisfied with his silence. Seriously, fuck that guy. 



Slamming his tray between his boyfriend and Kaminari, Bakugou slides onto the bench at the squad’s usual lunch table. So far, it’s just the three of them. “Alright, shitheads. Fucking look at this dick.” 


Bakugou takes out his phone and holds it out to show the boys the recent pic he’d been eyeing in the hallway. Eijirou is his boyfriend so of course he’s going to show him. And Kaminari already knows about the blog since he fucking sent in his own . Might as well use their knowledge to have more opinions on the pretty pieces he gets to judge. What he isn’t counting on is Sero making his way to the table at that precise moment and looking directly over his shoulder at the photo. Sero lets out a low whistle at his angry friend, “Is the amount of dick in your personality not enough for you, man?”


“Well fuck you, Soy Sauce. I’d like a bigger dick in me. More specifically: in my ass. Problem?”


Setting his tray on the table across from his squad, Sero laughs at his angry friend. “Relax, Blasty. I’m pretty sure we all know you’re a bit of a hoe. Nothing wrong with that. It’s not really much of a surprise that account there is how you spend your free time. So who’s dick is it we’re all appreciating? Is it mine?”


“You did not send one in to me.”


Sero shoves a fork-full of food into his mouth as he mumbles, “Mm. As far as you know.”


Bakugou side eyes Sero and makes sure to store that little tidbit in the back of his mind for later. He then goes back to the picture in question. The photo shows a pretty 5 ½ inch dick that curves ever so slightly. Whoever took it has an apparent playful side. They’ve positioned their middle finger to sit against their dick, drawing the attention of the viewer. Gotta love a little personality. “Well, back to the specific specimen in question.”


Kaminari cuts him off, “Wait, wait. Specimen? That’s what you call a dick?”


“If it’s a pretty piece, yeah sure. Anyway , back to it. Look at this fucker. The composition isn’t anything special and really it isn’t the best picture, but damn if it doesn’t get prettier the more I look at it. And I’m pissed about how much I want to sit on that fucking prick’s middle finger flipping me off right next to his dick. This is definitely a pretentious asshole and I don’t even fucking care.” 


Kiri laughs as he throws his arm over Bakugou’s shoulders to pull him close and look at the photo a little closer. “Okay, babe. We got it. You like the dick? Get after it. But first, what’s the verdict on this ‘specimen’ of yours?”


Bakugou looks back down at the submission while biting his lip. Considering for a moment he reads aloud as he types:


6/10 Alright we’re gonna address the elephant in the room here first. You’re fucking flipping me off. Haha. Very funny asshole. Good dick I guess. Composition could use some work. But damn that thing gets prettier the more I look at it. And alright fuck I’m lying, you flipping me off is annoyingly hot and I want to sit on that fucking finger and spin. But using that as the focal point and not your dick? Fuck you.


Sero laughs at how annoyed Bakugou is at attention being taken away from a dick. Kaminari hums in appreciation while munching on his sandwich as Kirishima smiles, grabbing Katsuki’s chin to pull him close for a kiss on the cheek. As the squad enjoys their laughter and teasing, a voice shouts across the cafeteria. Bakugou looks to the call of his name. “Hey there Bakugou! How goes it, hoe?”


Bakugou glares at the fucking asshole. If the prick could just leave him the fuck alone, that’d be great. And, the asshole is not wrong. He is a hoe, but fucking calling him out in the middle of the goddamn cafeteria packed with students? Fucking pretentious prick. 




That pretentious prick? He’s holding a pretentious middle finger next to his covered prick. Just like the goddamn photo he was just drooling over. 


The fucking dick is fucking Monoma’s. The world must really fucking hate him. Goddammit! Bakugou immediately looks away from Monoma, staring down at the stupid submission. “FUCK!” Bakugou screams as he slams his head on the table, rattling his friend’s lunches. The retreating laughter ringing in his ears really doesn’t do anything to help. Ignoring the questions the boys at his table send his way, Bakugou shoves his lunch away and storms across the cafeteria. 


Finding the person he’s looking for, Bakugou throws one leg over the bench to straddle it as he stares at Uraraka, slamming his hand on the table in front of her. Before she can do anything more than look to him in shock, Bakugou blurts out, “I gotta fuck Monoma.”


Iida nearly chokes on his lunch across the table. Didn’t really notice Glasses there, but too late to go back now. He was a little focused on getting to Raka and ranting, so he was a little distracted. Raka is staring at him, mouth agape as she asks, “Kat. Why do you have to fuck Monoma?”


Still with a slight bit of red dusting his cheeks, Bakugou angrily holds his phone out to her, showing Monoma’s stupid submission. Raka takes the phone, gives the picture a once over and looks back at Bakugou. “Okay. So he has a pretty decent penis. Yes, you’re a cockslut. But that doesn’t mean you have to fuck him.”


Bakugou groans, “Are we looking at the same dick here, Raka? Look at that thing and the stupid fucking bullshit taunting. You know I gotta hop on that dick. FUCK. I have to fuck Monoma. I’m going to fuck Monoma. Goddammit. Fucking hell, why?”


Uraraka laughs at her friend’s dilemma. “Oh you stupid bitch. You know you’ll have to swallow your pride to get it, right?”


“Won’t be the only thing I’ll be swallowing. Ideally.”


Iida gets his wits about him and for the first time since Bakugou had his outburst, he manages to form a coherent thought. “What the two of you are discussing is incredibly inappropriate. How did this even come up?”


As if it’s the most obvious and normal thing in the world--though for him it really is-- Bakugou replies flatly, “Monoma found my dick pic rating blog and sent his own in.”


Iida sputters, “Why would you have this?!”


Shrugging while looking at the photo again, Bakugou explains, “I like dicks.”  


“It has also gotten him laid a few times now. So you know he has to keep it going.” This is added by Uraraka as she goes back to her lunch. For her, this is just any other day with Bakugou. All that is missing is a spar that ends with her sitting on his face. Well they can still have that later, considering it is unlikely Bakugou will take Monoma’s bait for a few more days, yet. “Well, what’s your plan, slut?”


“...I at least have to make the fuckface wait. Make him come to me again. Keep some of my goddamn dignity with this. Guess we’ll have to see how the next few days go. Cause fuck him. Two can tease.” 


Iida only stares. “Why are you like this?”


“Just am,” Bakugou calls over his shoulder as he stands to head back to his usual squad. He doesn’t really want to be here with Deku and Todoroki walking over. His idiots are enough trouble. 



Those next few days are absolute shit. 


Bakugou goes to the gym to train. Monoma is there with his stupid middle finger. Bakugou goes to class and Monoma is giving him bedroom eyes. He swears Monoma has never been around this often, but now the fucker just keeps showing up at every turn. The most annoying part? Monoma clearly has the upper hand. Bakugou has been trying to get him just as riled, but that is not working in the slightest. Monoma is certainly interested, that’s very apparent on his face. But somehow, the asshole has more self control and patience than Bakugou. 


Fuck. Bakugou is going to be the one to break first.


Maybe he can hold out. Maybe he can outlast the Copy-Cunt. Maybe-- oh fuck no he can’t. No he can’t. 


Their classes are sparring together today because Aizawa and Vlad wanted to give everyone some different competition; vary the opponents and fighting style matchups. Bakugou is currently staring at Monoma, who somehow managed to pin Sero. Which doesn’t last long since Sero is tough competition (because fuck you, Bakugou only lets the best into his squad). But holy hell. Those two seconds of seeing that asshole take down someone and have them pinned to the floor? Yeah it was hot as hell and doing it for Bakugou. It does not help that the bitch had the nerve to find Bakugou just to fucking wink at him. 


Yeah, he’s gotta fuck him after this. He can’t keep avoiding it anymore. 


For the rest of the merged training class, Bakugou is distracted with planning his next move. He’s struggling to figure out how to possibly maintain even the smallest shred of his pride in this scenario. He really can’t find an answer. So far his only option is to just head over to 1B’s dorm afterwards for his dicking down. 

He’s still running bullshit scenarios in his head as he downs his water beside his bag. Vlad and Aisawa Sensei are talking over on the side of the gym, likely discussing which students need to improve what and how they can work it into later trainings. Bakugou is trying to read their lips to see what they say about him when he feels someone trail a finger up his spine, making him shiver. He doesn’t bother to turn around.


Monoma continues trailing his finger along Bakugou’s back, bringing his head forward to whisper in Bakugou’s ear. “Second floor. Third door on the right. I’ll leave it unlocked so you can crawl right on in.”


The warmth vanishes as Monoma pulls away, already starting a conversation with Kendo about how much 1B crushed 1A in training. (That’s bullshit.) But Bakugou can’t be bothered by that because he’s too focused on not popping a boner in the middle of the training room. Unfreezing, Bakugou screws his water bottle shut, chucks it in his bag, yanks the bag up over his shoulder, stomps after Monoma, grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. Monoma is making that stupid fucking smug face behind him, but fuck it. They’re getting up to that room. Now


“Well. I know you’re a little slut, but a little eager are we?”


“The sooner we get up there the sooner I can fucking cross this off my list and be fucking done with you. You’re the worst .”


Monoma fucking laughs at him and goddamn it Bakugou wants to punch him in the face but dammit he wants that dick first. Dick first. Fist after. Bakugou inwardly curses at the poor wording. Dick first. Punch later.



Bakugou isn’t the only one who’s impatient, he thinks with a smirk as the door clicks shut against his back. Monoma wastes no time crowding against him the moment they are alone, licking into his mouth like someone starving and slipping slender fingers under Bakugou’s shirt to grasp at his hips. 


Bakugou gives as good as he gets, reaching up and twisting his fingers into blond locks and tugging. The resulting growl goes straight to his cock. Fuck. Since when did shitty Monoma make noises like that


“Knew you’d be gagging for it,” Monoma rasps, only breaking from the kiss to trail down and sink his teeth into Bakugou’s neck, well above his collar. He can only manage a punched out moan in reply, the back of his head hitting the door with a hollow thunk. “I saw you watching me during class today.” 


“Been fuckin’ teasing me all week , bastard. ‘Course I was watching.” Bakugou barely manages to find his words as Monoma laves his wicked tongue over the imprints of his teeth. Of course he’d want to mark him. Just like the bitch.


“Not just that.” Monoma’s grin splits his face in a way that makes Bakugou shudder, cold grey eyes filled with dark promises. “You liked how I pinned your friend down, didn’t you?” He takes that moment to roll his hips slightly, pressing his thigh between Bakugou’s. “Want someone to hold you down? Fuck the fight out of you?”


Dammit . Bakugou’s cock jerks hard in his pants and he can tell that the asshole pinning him doesn’t miss it. His eyes flick away to some far off corner of the room, unable to look at that downright sinful gaze Monoma has on him. He’s flushed from the tip of his ears to his chest and he wants it so fucking bad it hurts. 


“No response, huh? Too bad, I’m not going to do a goddamn thing you don’t ask for.” And to prove his point Monoma starts to pull away, only to be stopped by Bakugou’s white knuckled grip on his shirt. 


“Fuck… yeah. That-” Shit, Bakugou hates how his voice trembles now. He was supposed to ride this bastard until he tapped out, not roll over and bare his throat at the first hint of dirty talk. 


“Yeah? That? ” Monoma reaches down, palming Bakugou through his pants and he fucking whimpers . He knows he must look a mess, crimson eyes blown wide, cock already fully hard under an expectant grip. “Are you fucking drooling? Shit, I was wrong, you’re a perfect little slut. I’m going to ruin you and you’re going to beg me for it.” He punctuates with a roll of his hips and Bakugou has no hope of stifling his moan, hiding his face in the copy-cunt’s shoulder.


“Uh-uh. None of that.” A rough hand weaves its way into Bakugou’s coarse hair and yanks until his hazy gaze meets the other man’s again. “Don’t you fucking hide from me,” Monoma sneers. “Just look at you, fuck. I’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking, you want it so bad.”


Bakugou’s mouth hangs open, barely lucid as he tugs his hair against Monoma’s grip. “Please.” He can barely hear the plea himself, but judging by the absolutely wicked smile on the bastard’s face, he was heard loud and clear. “Fuck…”


“Oh baby boy,” Bakugou tries hard not to think about how that made his cock twitch. “If I fuck you now there’s no way you’d last, and you haven’t earned it.” He twists his fingers further into coarse blond hair and Bakugou gasps. 


The copy-cunt takes advantage, gently tracing his lips with his thumb before pressing it into his mouth. Bakugou moans, sucking on the offered digit, and it’s Monoma’s turn to gasp as the pad of his thumb catches Bakugou’s teeth. 


“Maybe I’ll just fuck this pretty mouth of yours. Give you something to think about next time you want to start talking shit.” 


“Mmfuck…” Bakugou’s voice is muffled as he pockets Monoma’s thumb in the corner of his mouth. “Please… please,” he gasps as Monoma yanks the corner of his mouth back. It’s a weak hold but Bakugou allows it to pin him to the wall.


“You are just all bark, aren’t you?” Monoma clicks his tongue disapprovingly, pulling his thumb from the wet, inviting heat of Bakugou’s mouth. “Pathetic. I really expected more.”


Something dark curls in Bakugou’s belly, rearing its ugly head in response to a challenge. He plants his palms in the center of the bastard's chest and gives him a hard shove. “ Fuck you.” He stalks after him, practically tearing his shirt off as he goes. “You want more ?” 


Monoma can’t even hide his delighted grin as he shucks his own shirt. “I want you to beg, Katsuki.”


“Too bad. I don’t beg for little bitches like—”




Bakugou clutches his head to shield his eyes from the flash, his ears ringing. What the fuck was that? Distantly he can hear the copycat bastard laughing. Fuck. Did he just—


Monoma seizes Bakugou by the back of his neck, using one foot to kick his knees out from under him. Bakugou hits the floor with a thud, the air rushing out of him as Monoma pins his back to the foot of his bed. He slips one slender hand around his throat, almost perfectly matching what remained of Todoroki’s bruises. 


“Let me remind you who the real bitch is, here.” Monoma hisses when Bakugou’s senses finally return. Fucking bastard. Bakugou grits his teeth and glares up at the cold silver gaze above him. He lashes out, trying to grab a fistful of flaxen hair and yank


But Monoma is somehow faster, snatching Bakugou’s wrist out of the air. He relinquished his hold on his throat to grab his other wrist too, pinning them to the mattress above his head. Switching his wrists into a one handed hold Monoma smirks. “Should have seen the look on your face . Using your quirk to stun was way more fun than I thought it would be.” He seizes Bakugou’s jaw, wrenching it up and clamping his teeth down over the purpling mark he already left below his ear. 


“A-ah!!” Fucking hell. All Bakugou can manage is a choked off sob, all thrashing and struggling ceasing at once as he goes limp under the King of Fighting Dirty. 


“Mm… right there, huh?” Monoma has the audacity to chuckle into his skin, his hot breath making Bakugou’s skin erupt in goosebumps. He can’t take the teasing anymore. The copy-cunt has barely touched his cock and yet he’s ready to fire off like some virgin and fuck, this is not how this was supposed to go . He has to calm down. His breath is starting to get out of control, especially now with Monoma roughly mapping out his chest with his free hand. He pulls on a nipple, scratches down his chest, digs crescent moons into his pectorals until he’s gasping for mercy. “So worked up for me. What do you want, baby boy?” Monoma croons, and the floodgates never stood a chance.


“Your cock,” he gasps as Monoma’s nails rake hard down his belly, leaving angry red trails in their wake. “Fucking shit, Copycat. Want you to- to fuck my mmm—shit!” He pants pathetically, trying to find the words as Monoma’s teeth close over a nipple, fully intent on distracting him. “Fuck! Ohhhh shit shit, please Neito , I want you to fuck my mouth I want it so bad just fucking shut me the fuck up -” He chokes on his words, the threat of tears bubbling in his chest. No. He will not be reduced to tears by Monoma of all people. 


Despite the pricking in Bakugou’s eyes he doesn’t miss the way Monoma’s pupils blow wide. “Shit, Katsuki.” He shakes himself from his reverie, smirking and reaching for the fly of his pants. “Want my cock in your mouth that bad, huh? Want me to shut you up, slut?”


Ohhh fuck. His plan was totally backfiring. “Yeeeess,” he keens, pressing his hips towards any kind of friction. It’s not until Monoma slots his calf in between his thighs that the first tears spill down his face. “Ffffuck... Please just fucking… ah!” The friction is delicious and Katsuki is crying and begging for the steely eyed boy to use him and it’s so so so much. 


And Monoma? He laughs. It’s the best begging performance of his life and all he can hear in response is his cruel dark laughter as he grinds his shin against his cock again, just a shade on the side of too painful. Bakugou wishes he could be angry but all he can do is hold on and beg for more. 


Monoma groans as he finally frees his own cock, pulling it slowly and holding it just out of Bakugou’s reach. The photo didn’t even do it justice. Monoma gave him shit about being worked up, but if the angry red of his cock was any indication, the bastard was just as desperate as he was, but he still holds back, allowing the Bakuho a good long look at his prize.


On his knees, pressed up against the foot of the bed, his head resting on the edge of the mattress, he realizes that Copy-Cunt has set him up perfectly for this. His gut twists. Monoma is about to fuck his face.


“That’s right, you little whore.” He sneers down at Bakugou, whose face is slick with tears and snot. Gross. “I’m gonna shove my cock in that dirty fucking mouth of yours and fuck that stupid look off your face. The only way you’ll get off—” he punctuates with a press of his calf against Bakugou’s cock, “—is if you hump my leg like the pathetic dog you are.” 


“Neito…” he gasps, eyes rolling back and hips bucking against the offered leg desperately. “Fucking… please!” He opens his mouth wide, flattening his tongue hungrily, and fuck, Monoma can’t refuse an invitation like that now, can he? 


He relents, dragging his cock in an experimental slide up Bakugou’s tongue, hissing at the heat. Bakugou takes a deep breath in, preparing himself for the onslaught. His cock throbs in anticipation and he ruts against Monoma’s ankle again. 


“Go on then, bitch,” Monoma rasps, tightening his grip on Bakugou’s wrists and sliding his other hand into his hair. “Suck my cock.”


Bakugou opens wide, taking most of it down hungrily before hitting the back of his throat. He moans quietly at the taste of him, flicking his tongue right up underneath the head. 


“Ah! Yeah…” Monoma growls, long and low. “Just like that. Fuck!” He rocks his hips into that wet heat, being careful to not choke the slut… yet. Bakugou takes another deep breath through his nose and flexes his fingers against Monoma’s grip, catching his attention. Tugging against his iron grip on his hair, Bakugou gives an almost imperceptible nod, and that’s all the permission he needs. 


He rocks his hips deeper into Bakugou’s mouth, grunting as he gags slightly and swallows around him. Slowly, Monoma sinks the rest of his cock into his throat and moans. “Shiiit. You take it so fucking good don’t you?” Bakugou’s inner clockslut preens at the praise, swallowing around the tip of his cock, urging the other man to continue.


Monoma’s hips stutter before plunging deeper, setting a sudden brutal pace. Caught between his hips and the mattress Bakugou can do nothing but focus on not gagging as the slim hips piston that stunning cock between spit slicked lips. 


Bakugou is an absolute mess, tears and drool mixing on his quickly reddening face in a way that is both disgusting and delightful . He feels high. He feels used. He thrusts his hips mindlessly against Monoma’s shin, feeling absolutely fucking filthy, hopelessly lost to chasing the friction.


“Yeah… you like that? Little slut.” Monoma pulls out to let him breathe, allowing his cock to slap an angled cheekbone. “You’ll just take whatever I give you huh?” He can feel Bakugou’s thrusts against his leg increase their pitch, as if in answer, and he takes that as his invitation to plunge back into the inviting wet heat of Bakgou’s throat, relishing in the slightly choked noise that escapes. 


“Just like that, huh? You like it when I use your mouth to jerk off? Shit—” his rhythm stutters at the same time Bakugou’s does, gritting his teeth to keep from shooting without warning. Bakugou doesn’t seem so lucky however. 


With another choked noise, Monoma watches in awe as crimson eyes roll almost all the way back into his head, hips trembling against his leg as he comes in his pants. “Fuuuuuck.” The smirk on his face is nothing short of evil as he plunges his cock deep into Bakugou’s throat, reveling in the tightness as he swallows around his own moans. “Shit, Katsuki… gonna come..!” 


Bakugou’s eyes flutter shut in euphoria, moaning around the cock in his throat, and that’s what does it. Thrusting another once, twice, three times, Monoma presses his hips flush to the reddened face below him and comes deep .


Bakugou chokes, his chest heaving with the effort, but swallows everything he’s given. And when Monoma pulls out, releasing his hair and wrists, Bakugou slumps back against the bed, going completely boneless with a wet cough. 


When he looks up, Monoma is gone, but he hears running water somewhere. Within seconds, those grey eyes are back in view, though significantly less cold. 


He closes the distance, sitting down next to Katsuki and slinging an awkward arm around his shoulders as he passes a glass of water over. Too tired to bite the hand that feeds him, Bakugou leans into the touch, resting his head on a pale shoulder. The other man raises a wet washcloth he didn’t know he’d been holding and wipes the mess from his face in a way that Katsuki would describe as tender if he didn’t know any better.


The two sit in silence for a while, Bakugou occasionally drinking clearing his throat and Monoma rubbing soothing circles into his back until, almost simultaneously, the two become sick of their newfound intimacy, pulling away from each other to find their discarded shirts. 


Bakugou winces, the feeling of cooling come in his pants none too comfortable. He’ll have to take care of that as soon as he gets back to his dorm, but first—


“Oi, Copycat.” He clears his throat again, voice way rougher than normal.


“Yes, Bakuho?” Monoma looks pretty fucking pleased with himself at that, so Bakugou doesn’t even feel a bit bad when his fist connects squarely over Monoma’s eye socket. “ Fuck!! What the hell was that for!?” He demands, still glaring menacingly with one hand cupped over his eye.


“For thinking you of all people could fuck the fight out of me.” Bakugou retorts, giving him another shove before heading to the door. “Better luck next time.” 


Monoma, for his usual lack of humor, actually finds it in himself to laugh. “Yeah, sure. Next time.” 


Bakugou slams the door behind him, stomping back to his own dorm, glaring down any knowing glances sent his way, and when he finally gets to his room and accomplishes a change of pants he pulls out his phone.


Edit: Just as much of a prick as you’d think.