tharroswrites:

Uraraka swallows the bitter tang on her tongue at the sight of Deku—rubbing the back of his neck and blushing as he fumbles for words with Melissa across the room.

Stupid party. Stupid dance. If it were up to her she’d just disappear to her room and leave the others to defend the place incognito. 

But she’s a hero just like the rest of them and she’s not going to let her jealous heart get the best of her. 

“Well?” 

It’s more of a demand than a question, and Uraraka doesn’t have to turn to know it’s Bakugou—but she does turn and it’s to see him holding out his hand like a god demanding tribute.

She looks from his hand to his face, her brows knit together in confusion. Even though some of their classmates have made their way to the dance floor…could he really mean…?

“Tch. We’re supposed to be here together or some shit, right?” Then, in more of a grumble than his usual commanding tone, he adds, “Speaking of…”

He pulls a white flower barrette from where he’s clipped it to his vest, holding it out to her like this isn’t the class hothead offering her a matching hairpiece to his suit.

Her cheeks heat up and there’s red at the tips of his ears as she meets his eye. Too surprised to actually reach out and take the flower, she says, “I… Bakugou… what…?”

“Gods fucking dammit,” he mutters, taking a step toward her and sweeping a lock of hair from her face, clipping it away with the barrette and stepping back to examine his work—expression unreadable as it drifts from the flower, down to her dress, and back up to her face. “Don’t touch it.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and scowls, looking away from her and back toward the dance floor and Uraraka chews on her lip. Gaze flicking back briefly to Deku, she takes a breath to steady herself before turning toward Bakugou.

“Before…were you trying to ask me to—”

“I wasn’t asking, shit-wit,” Bakugou says, eyes still focused ahead of him.

Uraraka can’t help the small smirk that tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I didn’t know you could dance.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I know how to dance?” His voice is something like an amused growl as his eyes slide back to hers.

Uraraka finds herself smiling fully now, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him with a challenge heavy on her tongue. “So you do know how to dance? Wanna prove it?”

“I already made that pretty fucking clear,” he says, grabbing her hand and dragging her out onto the dance floor.

His other hand settles at her waist like he’s done this before and Uraraka can’t help but shake her head and laugh, even though his fingers are sending sparks up her spine in a way that has nothing to do with his Quirk.

“You’re kinda amazing, Bakugou, you know?” she asks, her face heating up as the words spill out of her before she can stop them.

But he blushes too, looking away from her and giving that familiar “tch” and something about all of it is comforting in a strangely easy way. 

“Yeah well,” he says, meeting her eyes and holding them. “You’re my partner for this whole shitty thing so you better stay on my level.”

Uraraka doesn’t bother fighting her smile. “You can count on me, Bakugou.”

“Yeah…I fucking know.”