TodoBaku Stuff

I Didn't Sign Up For This Shit

Summary:
They were way too fucking old to be playing this kind of game. Maybe they could've gotten away with it when they'd all still been students at U.A. back in the day, he supposed. They were all in their early twenties now though, and as far as Bakugou was concerned, pro heroes didn't spend their weekends drinking and making out like a bunch of teenagers.

Except that they apparently did, because here he was, somehow in the middle of this fucking mess.

~~~~~~~~~

This really was his own fault this time, Bakugou thought, silently berating himself for ever agreeing to come to-to this thing they were all having. Ashido had been talking about having a get together with everyone for fucking weeks and despite his adamant protests to the contrary, Bakugou now found himself seated in the living room of her and Hagakure's apartment.

On the floor. In a circle with everyone else, all the tables and chairs pushed up against the walls of the room, an empty wine bottle lying on the floor before them all. The very sight of it raised Bakugou's ire.

"This is so much fun," Ochako hummed happily from beside him, bumping his shoulder lightly with her own repeatedly as she swayed back and forth.

He made a noise of distaste. "You're just drunk, angel face. This is fucking terrible."

From his other side, Kirishima laughed, throwing an arm around him. Bakugou barely managed to repress the urge to shove him off. "Man, don't be such a buzz kill, Blasty. We hardly ever get to see everyone anymore. It's fun!"

Bakugou snorted. "Yeah, sure, 'fun' for you maybe, seeing as how you just spent the last seven minutes making out with Kaminari in a fucking closet, shitty hair."

Kirishima's face reddened slightly, but his grin only grew wider. Tch. No fucking shame.

"I don't kiss and tell, dude. That's just rude. Not manly at all. I would never-"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, finally giving in to the urge to shove him and knocking Kirishima sideways into the person seated on his other side-who just happened to be Kaminari himself. Kirishima was immediately distracted as a result, flirting obnoxiously and seeming to forget Bakugou's existence entirely. Bakugou considered it a small blessing, taking a long drink from the bottle Ochako had handed him when she first sat down beside him.

At least one of his so-called "friends" wasn't completely useless, he supposed.

"Alright, who's next?" Hagakure called, drawing everyone's attention back to the game at hand.

Everyone around him began chattering excitedly. Bakugou groaned, dropping his head to rub at the crease between his eyebrows and fighting off an oncoming headache.

Seven minutes in heaven. They were way too fucking old to be playing this kind of game. Maybe they could've gotten away with it when they'd all still been students at U.A. back in the day, he supposed. They were all in their early twenties now though, and as far as Bakugou was concerned, pro heroes didn't spend their weekends drinking and making out like a bunch of teenagers.

Except that they apparently did, because here he was, somehow in the middle of this fucking mess.

Bakugou glared down at the wine bottle as if it was the cause for his suffering tonight, and not his own stubborn pride. Pride had ensured he showed up in the first place, unwilling to be left out of their little get-together. Pride had ensured he drank whatever had been handed to him throughout the night, because like hell he couldn't keep up with everyone else. Pride had also made it absolutely certain that Bakugou didn't refuse to play; it seemed weak to be the only person at a party who stood by and huffed along the sidelines like a pouty child.