𝐑 𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄?

𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 going to be a busy day today, according to Bakugou's schedule. Mainly because he has to prepare for the press conference he has this afternoon.

According to Ken, it's always busy when Bakugou has to go on the news, since there's always a hassle when it comes to it. There's always an argument over what to wear, what to say, what not to say. Sometimes the PR team doesn't even try because they know he won't listen to them anyways. And lucky you get to be right in the middle of it.

"That's enough I don't need you any more of that shit!" You heard Bakugou snap from outside the room, just before a group of people walked out...his makeup team.

"He's in a pretty bad mood. Good luck." One of the women on the team told you as they left. You took a breath, knocking at his door.

"Give me a damn minute!" Bakugou barked angrily. Yep, they were right, seemed like he is in a shitty mood.

"It's _______. If you need some space, that's fine. I just wanted to check in and see how things are going." You said through the door.

A minute passed, and he stepped outside with you, shutting the door behind him. He's in his hero uniform, his hair is slightly tussled, and there was some makeup on his face that covered his scars and the bags under his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" You asked.

He frowned at that, pushing past you and shutting the door behind him. He started to walk down the hallway, and you followed after him. "Do you even have to ask? I feel like I'm wearing clown paint. I don't need this shit. People shouldn't care about what I look like, as long as I'm saving them and kicking ass."

He's wiping at his face with his gloved hands, smearing it and making it look worse. He keeps on wiping at it, and it gets to the point where you have to pull him aside and help him. For the sake of Ken and the rest of the PR team, you have to do this.

"Okay, okay, stop. You're going to drive me crazy." You grab him by the arm, leading him into the bathroom. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fixing your face, since you keep on freaking out about it." You grab a towel from the dispenser, putting it under water, and wetting it.

You softly dab all over his face, wiping off the excess amounts of makeup, until whatever's left is unnoticeable. You didn't just come in here to just wipe off his makeup, though. You know he's nervous.

He might not say anything, but you've learned enough to read people's emotions and know if they're lying. You know he doesn't care what anyone thinks, not the PR team or people in general, but you know he's upset about the hero commission. They've been as he phrased "up his ass" and yours to make sure he's behaving, forcing you to write up those stupid reports. Most of the time, you bullshit your way through it.

He knows those eyes are going to be on him, and he doesn't want to risk getting in trouble again, so he has to watch what he says, and try not to get too...passionate, which is something he's not good at.

You're far too lost in thought to realize how close your face is to his, and how he's doing best to avoid contact, fidgeting awkwardly. You're staring at his face intensely, your eyebrows furrowed, and your tongue peeking out from your lips in concentration.

He could feel his cheeks grow slightly rosy at that, doing whatever he can not to look at you, no matter how much he wants to. Fuck, shit, you're cute.

"How much longer?" He growls impatiently, acting like a little kid, pretending as if he doesn't like the attention.

"You're done, okay? There." You ball up the paper towel and throw it into the trash can. Then, you grabbed his arm and turn him towards the mirror.

"You look great either way. And yeah, it doesn't matter how you look, because you'll always kick-ass, including this stupid interview." Bakugou finally caught on to what you were doing, and he didn't like it.

"I don't need some stupid pep talk, alright? I know I'll kick ass." He told you, shrugging your hand off of his arm. He entered the room confidently, seeming much calmer than before, while you trailed behind him. It seems like it worked.

--

The conference went smoothly, and Bakugou did great. Not that you expected otherwise, and lucky for him, he has nothing else to do, except for his evening patrol.

Normally, you're out of the office by the time Bakugo's finished. But tonight, you decided to work late. So you're there when he gets back.

He doesn't even realize you're there until he sees a light in the corner of his eye. He spots you, sitting at your computer and typing with your earbuds in, humming along to whatever song you're listening to.

"______? ______?" Bakugou called, his voice making you jump and pause your music. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing some overtime and making sure I'm staying on top of everything with schedules, calendars, and reports and stuff. What are you doing here?" You replied.

"I just got back from patrol." He told you. You looked him up and down, noticing the injuries. He had gotten into a small struggle with some villains, and it seems like he was a little scuffed up.

"You're bleeding." You murmured, noticing the small cuts on him scattered across his body, his hero suit slightly torn. Whoever he dealt with must've had some sort of quirk or weapon with a sharp edge to it.

"It's nothing, just a few scratches. You should see the other guy." He boasted. You smirked at that. "Of course."

You walked over to him, getting a closer look at him, glancing over his injuries. They weren't too bad, but he could probably use some bandages. Luckily, you know where the first aid kit is.

"Here, let me fix you up." You told him. After grabbing a first aid kit off the shelf, before leading him into his office.

"Take a seat." You patted the desk. He decided not to fight you and pushed some papers aside, before sitting down.

You popped the medkit open, grabbing some disinfectant wipes. You go to dab him with them, but Bakugou dodges you. You frowned. "Sit still."

"This is fuckin unnecessary. I'll be fine." He protested. "Will you be fine when your cuts get infected and you lose an arm? Will you?"

He mumbled under his breath, before reluctantly sitting on the table. "So dramatic."

As you disinfected his cuts, he winced, muttering swears. You grinned at him. "Who's the dramatic one now?"

"Shut up." He scoffed, making you giggle. Once again, you were standing in between his legs, patching up his injuries. He shouldn't be doing this. He can't be doing this. Not with all these conflicted thoughts and feelings he's getting.

He barely even knows you, after all. He met you just a month ago. But he knows Camie. He loves Camie. She's the woman he wants to be with for the rest of his life.

You're just his coworker that the commission forced him to work with. The one that's constantly monitoring and writing reports on him. At most, you're acquaintances.

Yet, he still loves the attention you're giving him, and the way your eyes feel on him. Especially now, when you're oh so close, focused on cleaning his wounds.

He really needs to figure his shit out.

A/N: Some more development for y'all....

Thanks for reading!

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