Quarantined (BakuDeku AU)

0015

"How in the fuck, do you always win?" an exasperated Bakugo asks me, staring in disbelief at the television in front of us. Kuma the bear poses victoriously on the screen, taunting the blond next to me.

"I don't know Kacchan, maybe I'm born with it. Maybe it's Maybelline." I half-assedly sass back, tossing my controller onto the duvet beside me.

Bakugo rolls his eyes at my response without bothering to retort.

The pair of us had been playing Tekken for a couple of hours, and my eyes are honestly starting to hurt from glaring unblinkingly at the game. A while after my mid-morning meltdown, I had swallowed my pride and rapped my knuckles on the painted wood of my roommate's door. Neither of us mentioned the conversation from earlier, opting instead to banter back and forth about the game like we usually do.

"Oi, fuckface, we playin' another round or what?" Bakugo queries, leaning back on his elbows on the bed, his controller lazily held in one hand.

I cover my mouth as a yawn pushes it's way out of me. Blinking a few times, I feel the sting from my eyes and a wave of tiredness washes over me, "Depends. Are you going to put up a fight this time? I'm getting bored of winning." I complain with a fake pout.

"Fuck. Off." Bakugo says in annoyance, punctuating each word with a pillow thrown at my face.

I block the attack with my arms, laughing, "Hey! Winners have crosses to bear too." I tease, and am met with one of Bakugo's signature glares. I smile slightly, before clearing my throat, "For real though, I think I'll pass. I'm kind of tired, so I might just go take a nap." I admit, pushing myself off the bed, collecting my things and getting ready to bounce.

"Didn't you lay on the fucking floor for three hours? How the fuck can you be tired?" Bakugo frowns, asperity surfacing in his tone.

I pause at his insensitive comment, feeling my body stiffen with chagrin as though it were injected into my bloodstream, "Laying on the floor is exhausting stuff." I respond, a noticeable edge present in my voice. Embarrassment from my vulnerability this morning floods my body and presents itself as the beginnings of anger. I can feel myself bristling with annoyance, so to avoid what could turn into yet another explosive argument, I act proactively and remove myself from the situation. Scooping my phone off the bed, I make for the door. With a condescending and cloyingly saccharine, "Catch ya later, Kacchan." I pull the door open and march down the hall towards my room, without looking back.

I smirk as I hear the footsteps of a scoffing Bakugo stomp a few times before stopping short, "You could at least close the god damn door, asshole!" he shouts down the hall after me, promptly slamming the door for emphasis.

I mock his words under my breath, slamming my own door, and flopping onto my bed with a heavy sigh. Placing my phone face down on the bedside table, I try to block out the irritation from my thoughts and get comfortable on the plush duvet, squeezing my eyes shut.

The cool fabric of the pillow case presses against my cheek comfortingly. I attempt to blank my thoughts, and slip into slumber when, despite my protests, my brain summons Bakugo's words from earlier:

It's okay to be yellow.

An uneasy feeling twists my gut, as I cautiously recall the things Bakugo said to me while I was spiralling.

'It's okay to be yellow.' I am particularly stuck on.

Whether Bakugo knew the true intent behind my colour metaphor or not, the way he reassured me was... kind of nice. Strange, as I would never have expected my arch nemesis turned roommate to say something so kind and comforting to me, but nice nonetheless. I mean, the guy relentlessly insults me, calls me names, even going as far as telling me to jump off a roof a couple days ago... Recently however, something seems to have changed. He's become increasingly more civil—even pleasant at times. If I wasn't mistaken, I might even think the blond had grown a certain fondness for me in these past few days.