bc all i think abt is college!katsuki
Katsuki Bakugou is the epitome of the type of friend where you donât actually know if you are friends.
It started off slow and gradual; a head nod when you sat next to him in class for the first time. You didnât think much of it at firstâjust Bakugou being Bakugou, cold and distant as can be. But then came the day the professor prompted the class to discuss the reading with the person next to you. Oh boy.
Distant caves would be jealous of him as he offered impressive silence. He sat there with his arms crossed, glaring at the textbook like it had personally offended him. You tried your best to speak about the text, feeling the weight of his weightless replies, and occasionally heâd grunt or nod, but the conversation resembled your middle school talent show performance. Awkward, yes, but not surprising for a college class.
Still, you found yourself sitting next to him every couple of days, the unspoken rules of college and assigned seating habits pulling you back into his orbit. You tried to be kind, offering small talk here and there, but Bakugou always brushed you off with a grunt or a glare. He was prickly, always on edge, and you figured that was just how he was.
You were like this too on most days. After having your fair share of college-creep experiences you laid off the whole talking to people bit. But there was this exception you made for Bakugou. Not an exception but a curiosity of some sorts. Hell, you also were never good at math but you were on edge to solve the missing variable that is Katsuki Bakugou. Seriously, what's his deal?
Maybe it was the way he didnât care of how he seemed, it could be the mystery or maybe it was just the fact he looked like he was carved by Lysippos sitting by you at 9 a.m. lecture. Those thoughts were in the back of your mind⌠you even wonder if Bakugo is good at math? maybe then he could help.
But then there were these odd moments, moments where his usual gruffness gave way to something else. Like the day you mentioned how thirsty you were, sitting there in that old, sweltering classroom with no air conditioning. Bakugou rolled his eyes, muttered something about âare you always unprepared?â (he lent you a pen once before) but then wordlessly reached into his bag and handed you a water bottle.
âThanks,â you say, trying to match his nonchalant demeanor. Trying to let it go.
But the gesture stuck with you. He didnât acknowledge it, didnât say anything more. He just went back to his notebook like nothing happened. Typical. But you couldnât shake the feeling of slight butterflies in your stomach, even if you tried to brush them off as nothing.
Things continued in much the same way. Bakugou, still gruff and abrasive, but every now and then, something would slip through the cracks. A quiet moment of consideration, a begrudging act of kindness. He never let you get too close, but there was always that flicker of kindness. Of Bakugou. The real him, you think.
It was a rainy afternoon when you found yourself stranded at a bus stop with him. The two of you had just finished class, and the rain came out of nowhere, pouring down in quick splatters. You both stood under the narrow shelter that barely helped. Bakugou was glaring up like he was challenging the sky to a duel while his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He didnât acknowledge you at first. And you didnât think he would.
âYouâre gonna catch a cold standing out here,â he grumbled suddenly, his voice low and annoyed.
Before you could reply, he was already shrugging off his jacket and, without looking at you, shoved it in front of you. He urged you to take it but you blinked in surprise, not knowing how to react.
But then, you felt the weight of the jacket warm and heavy on your skin. The scent of himâsomething sharp and cleanâlingered in the fabric.
âBakugou, you donât have toââ
âShut up. I donât need your thanks,â he muttered, not meeting your gaze. He chose to stare at the rain instead.
He rolled his eyes but from that moment, something shifted. The dynamic between you two wasnât any less tense, and he still barked at you when you got on his nerves, but the hostility had softened, just a little. There was still sharpness in his words, but now mixed in with these brief, unexpected moments of kindness? (for Bakugou, normal for everyone else)
The day before your big exam, you sat next to him in class, anxiety buzzing in your stomach. âAre you ready for tomorrow?â you asked, peeking over at him.
âYeah,â he grunted, eyes not leaving his textbook.
You turned back to your seat, mentally patting yourself on the back for initiating (yet another) pointless conversation. But then, after a pause, Bakugou spoke again.
âWanna review the material after class?â
You blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly nodded. âSure.â
And so after class, he led the way to the library, not even waiting for you to catch up. He moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the room for a quiet, secluded spot. When he finally sat down and pulled out his notes, you were surprised to see how meticulously organized everything wasâcolor-coded, labeled, every detail in its place. So he probably is good at math? You were definitely getting somewhere.
He started drilling you with questions, breaking down complicated concepts with a precision you hadnât expected. His intensity was relentless, but it pushed you to focus, to work harder, and slowly, your understanding of the material started to click into place.
Hours passed in a blur, and the sun began to set outside the windows. The two of you were still going over definitions when Bakugou glanced over at you. âYou get it now?â
âYeah,â you said, a small smile on your lips. âThanks, Bakugou.â
âGood,â he muttered, turning back to his notes, but something about the way he said it felt less harsh than usual.
But all this time of him testing you made you want to test him. Probably because you suspected how sexy heâd look getting every question rightâŚ
You smirked, feeling a little bold. âAw, not you caring if I understand the material.â
He shot you a glare and his face twitched like he was holding back a grin. âI donât,â he snapped, though his tone lacked the usual bite.
âYou just looked so damn scared earlier, it was pathetic.â
You faked a small gasp at that. He wanted to laugh.
âAww, are you worried about me being sad?â you teased, leaning in a little closer. âItâs almost like weâre friends or something.â
âShut up,â he growled, his face turning slightly red.
Thatâs not a no, you think. You laughed, the sound light in the quiet library, and for the first time, you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, barely there, but real.
Quaint and underneath all his surroundings lied Bakugou Katsuki. Almost as if he were labeled X in some math problem.
So yeah⌠heâs cold and mean and gruff, but⌠you know he has your back with exams⌠and when youâre cold, and when you say you're thirsty, and when you need something nice to look at. Definitely, Katsuki Bakugou is your friendâŚ
That happens to have a massive crush on you.
(⌠and unashamedly, so do you.)
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