miracle romance (bakugou x reader love story)

cute

The ride back to the city takes a few hours. Bakugou's drained, slouching in his seat amongst an unavoidable and idiotic conversation that nearly makes him rip his hair out.

"Do you not know your multiplication table?!" He finally roars to the procrastinators around him just now coming around to completing their summer packets. He'd help them to shut them up, but then he'd never be able to get them off his back for the rest of the free weekend where they'd be stuck working and he'd be chilling.

"Hey, it's not cool to make fun of my learning abilities," Kaminari's voice huffs from somewhere.

Focused, Kirishima's frown doesn't say much as he balances his papers and folder on his lap, Sero beside him doing the same, "Multiplication? Isn't that why calculators were made?"

"Denki, do you have an eraser I can borrow?" Jirou leans over the backrest in front of her from beside the exasperated blond.

"Parentheses first, dude. We learned this in junior high," Sero noticed a mistake on Kirishima's paper.

"You all are fucked, by the way! In case you didn't know that either!"

At his shout, Jirou leans away, pressing herself into the window, "Can you move? Or let me switch seats."

He does so gladly, standing up from the nasty face she makes as she holds her ear.

Aizawa is ordering him to sit down, the bus is moving, and Bakugou rolls his eyes as he shoves himself down the aisle for a random seat.

He locates an empty aisle spot near the back, but is surprised when he spots the head of your hair next to it.

He's immediately looking for another option - anywhere else, literally any other seat would do - finding that the only other up for grabs is the one in the very back left beside a head of purple balls. Fuck no.

Nails would do.

You barely glance at him as he throws himself on the seat, silencing Four Eyes from where he started to chagrin him too. His legs are out into the aisle instead of facing anywhere towards you and still, your shoulder brushes his arm. He brings it in closer to his chest.

It's not like him to be so aware of himself, to be so mindful of where his limbs are in approximation to another person. But you're close; closer than you were last night. These seats aren't big enough for him to sit comfortably with Kirishima, but you're inches away, a good distance, and he still feels uncomfortable.

The bus is hot back here. His skin grows warm and his chest beats faster in response to the change in body temperature.

"Open the window," he turns to finally bark at you.

"Sure," you nod, pulling on the lever and sliding down the top glass a crack, "Is that good?"

"Peachy," he huffs, crossing his arms and being irritated in general. He gives you a side-eye when you sigh happily, "The breeze does feel nice."

He doesn't respond, staring at the void. A few moments later, there's a soft tug on his sleeve and he glares at you wordlessly offering some gum.

"No."

You nod, unzipping the bag on your lap and suddenly whispering like it's a secret, "Want something else? I have a stash."

"Hah?"

You show him the inside. There's a pink soda can, juice bottles, cookies, chips. "I raided the vending machine before we left. So worth it. Want chips? I have cheesy ones and hot ones."