Everyone in Class 1-A was absolutely convinced that Katsuki Bakugou and [Y/N] hated each other, and, to be fair, they had put considerable effort into making it believable. “Move, extra.” “You move, Bakugou.” “You’re sitting in my seat.” “You don’t own the damn couch.” “I should. I’m the only one here with taste.” “Your taste is literally just explosions and yelling.” “Your face is an explosion.” “Was that supposed to make sense?” “No.” Their classmates had long ago accepted that Bakugou and her simply could not exist in the same room without arguing, but what nobody knew was that the second they were behind a closed dorm-room door, the entire performance disappeared. Somewhere between late-night study sessions, accidentally falling asleep beside each other, and discovering that they actually had approximately a million stupid things in common, the two of them had gone from constantly fighting to secretly dating, and they were disgustingly adorable about it. Bakugou had even learned how to braid her hair after watching approximately fourteen tutorials and getting increasingly furious at the concept of hair. “Stop moving.” “You’re pulling.” “Your hair is attacking me.” “It’s hair, Katsuki.” “Exactly. Suspicious.” Eventually, he became surprisingly good at it. They had inside jokes that made absolutely no sense to anyone else, and they could exchange one look across the common room and immediately start silently laughing while everyone else stared at them like they’d lost their minds. During movie nights, they’d sit on opposite ends of the couch like sworn enemies, but under the blanket, their hands would occasionally find each other, Bakugou squeezing her hand when something ridiculous happened while she traced little shapes against his palm just to annoy him. It was a flawless system—until one movie night. It had been a brutal boxing training week, and Bakugou was exhausted, although he spent the entire evening aggressively insisting that he was perfectly fine. “I’M FINE.” “You fell asleep standing up five minutes ago,” Kirishima pointed out. “I WAS THINKING.” “Your eyes were closed.” “THINKING WITH MY EYES CLOSED.” Eventually, everyone settled in for a movie, and she sat beside him while they both behaved perfectly, making sure there was no suspicious hand-holding, whispering, or smiling. Everything was under control until about forty minutes into the movie, when Bakugou’s eyelids became heavier, his head dipped once, then twice, and suddenly, completely unconsciously, he leaned sideways and rested his head against her shoulder exactly like he would when they were alone. She froze. The entire room froze. Kirishima slowly lowered his popcorn, Mina’s eyes became approximately three times their normal size, Kaminari stopped breathing, Midoriya looked like he’d just witnessed a historical event, and Todoroki simply stared. She looked down at Bakugou, who opened one eye, realized where he was, noticed everyone staring, and immediately sat upright. “…I WAS TIRED.” “…” “…” “…” Mina slowly pointed at him. “You just cuddled [Y/N].” “I DID NOT.” “You absolutely did.” “I WAS SITTING.” “You were sleeping on her shoulder!” “TACTICAL RESTING.” “That is not a thing!” “It is now!” [Y/N], desperately trying not to laugh, crossed their arms and said, “Honestly, I don’t know what everyone’s problem is. Bakugou probably just mistook me for a pillow.” Bakugou whipped around. “A PILLOW?!” “Well, you drooled on me.” “I DID NOT!” “You absolutely did.” He looked ready to explode, but she was wearing that tiny, smug smile that meant she was enjoying every second of this. “You’re enjoying this,” he growled. “Immensely.” “You’re dead.” “See?” Mina yelled. “THERE! That’s the Bakugou-[Y/N]hatred we know!” Everyone relaxed slightly, thinking the situation had been explained, but then Kaminari narrowed his eyes. “Wait.” Everyone turned toward him. He pointed dramatically between them. “Why did Bakugou look at her like that?” “Like what?” Kirishima asked. “Like he actually likes her.” Silence. Bakugou’s eye twitched. [Y/N’s] smile vanished. Midoriya whispered, “Oh no.” Todoroki nodded thoughtfully. “That would explain the hair braiding.” Bakugou slowly turned toward him. “…What did you just say?” [Y/N] slowly covered their face while Bakugou looked ready to launch himself through the nearest wall. “WE DON’T LIKE EACH OTHER!” he shouted. [Y/N] nodded solemnly. “Absolutely not.” Bakugou glanced at her. She glanced back. Both immediately started laughing. The room went silent again. Kaminari pointed at them in horror. “THAT. THAT RIGHT THERE.” Their carefully constructed enemies-to-everyone-but-them facade had survived arguments, insults, fake disgust, secret smiles, and countless suspiciously synchronized movie nights, but apparently none of that could survive one exhausted Bakugou forgetting for approximately thirty seconds that he was supposed to hate his favorite person. Their secret was officially doomed.