you had been so confident, so self-assured, that he wouldn’t be here. why on earth would he be?
how could the man who snarled at you over coffee, the man you’ve built a stubborn, extremely petty, and in your opinion completely deserved one-sided vendetta against based on one interaction (which he likely doesn’t even remember you from), possibly have the patience to coach a bunch of seven year olds?!
god the sound of his voice is irritating. the amount of sheer arrogance he manages to exude from simply clicking his tongue would be almost impressive, if it wasn’t infuriating. the slight sneer on his face makes your skin burn. he may not remember you from the cafe, but you remember him and it’s clear, you decide then and there, he’s the exact asshole you thought he was, despite his ‘good-behaviour’ last time.
the sound of your son’s voice reminds you quickly to school your expression back to neutral, realising quickly you’re in no position to be glaring at the man right now. even if he’s putting on an act as a semi-decent human being, you should be too! regardless of your distaste for the man, it isn’t exactly the mature role model you’re trying to be for kaito.
visibly, his own face forcibly softens, glancing down to the boy and jerking his head in acknowledgement quickly before turning back to midoryia, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “some hags on the phone wanting you.”
hag? jeez, this guy really has no manners.
“ah!” midoryia clasps his hands together, bowing his head apologetically towards you. “i’m sorry, i have to go take that. but bakugo can get kaito kitted out before the other boys get here!”
judging by the look on bakugo’s face, that’s the last thing he wants to do. but he doesn’t complain, so you don’t either (as much as you want to say you don’t mind, and would actually much prefer, waiting).
the air feels suffocating as midoryia steps away, leaving you alone in the proximity of the blonde. instinctively, your arms raise to fold across your chest, eyeing him warily.
his eyes follow midoryia’s back, sharpened into a glare before he looks back to you, studying your clearly defensive position in a way that makes your skin prickle uncomfortably. it feels too knowing, too close — but it ends abruptly. without a word, he turns sharply on his heel, not waiting as he marches off.
you don’t even realise you’re supposed to be following until you watch your son practically skip after him, clearly more comfortable with man than you are, seemingly unbothered by his brash demeanour and apparent inability to communicate like a normal person.
sighing under your breath, you compose yourself, fighting back the urge to scream out in frustration and pushing down the brewing meltdown over how quickly this situation has spiralled our of your control to obsess over later and, instead, reluctantly following the pair.
silently, he leads you through a labyrinth of corridors to a large, well-stocked storage room. kirishima wasn’t kidding, they had plenty of gear to lend out.
“sit down kid,” he mutters, nodding at a bench. immediately, kaito happily complies and you lean against the doorframe, a safe distance away, watching skeptically. “shoe size?”
you don’t realise the questions directed towards you until he impatiently turns his head and you straighten, clearing your throat. right, you’re the parent. “he’s a 13.”
he grunts, opening a cabinet and rifling about before pulling out a pair of skates. moving back towards the benches, he takes a seat opposite kaito, spreading his legs and patting his thigh wordlessly.
understanding, kaito lifts his foot, plopping down on the thick perch of muscle. adjusting him slightly, bakugo holds the skate next to kaito’s shoe, squinting between the two silently for a moment before muttering, “yeah, that’ll do.”
he unties the laces, fitting the skate onto your sons foot with a surprising amount of gentleness. “that feel alright?”
he raises a brow, “not too tight?”
satisfied he grunts, finishing properly tying the laces before standing. “put the other one on.”
eagerly, kaito listens, yanking off his other shoe and reaching for the other boot. meanwhile, bakugo walks over to you and you pretend not to stiffen. he stops beside you, mirroring your pose, muscles straining in the fabric of his t-shirt as his arms engulf his broad chest.
the man may he a dick, but he’s built like a tank.
snapping out of your own thoughts, you quickly fix your eyes back up to his, feeling your cheeks heat defensively as you catch yourself. his question doesn’t help; obviously you wouldn’t bring him to to play ice-hockey if he couldn’t skate. your brothers taken him plenty of times.
bakugo raises a brow, the doubt almost mocking. “without one of those penguin things?”
“yes!” you scoff, a little snappier. it’s like he knows all the right buttons..
“that’s..” you falter, caught off guard by the sudden redirection. your mind scrambles and you huff, “i don’t see how that’s relevant.”
for a moment, the edges of his lips quirk into an aggravating little grin, seemingly thrilled to be successfully getting under your skin.
though, rather than retorting, he simply shrugs, picking himself up off the doorframe and walking back towards kaito. “you got them on? good.”
these mood changes are going to give you whiplash.
he squats down in front of him, reaching out and fixing the laces tightly.
“i’ll run a one-on-one session with him today,” he continues, lifting his head back up to face you, “see where he’s at. midoryia can handle the rest of the team.”
you bite back the urge to ask if they’d switch, mustering a (grimaced) smile.
because you have nothing better to do than scrutinise the man, you sit in the stands, watching the session run. the other boys occupy one side with midoryia wrangling them all, while kaito and bakugo have the other. thankfully, kaito does not let you down, skating perfectly fine as you’d confidently argued he could earlier. and, well, you can’t hear the pair, but bakugo seems.. surprisingly patient.
he explains each drill thoroughly, demonstrating first before letting kaito give it a try, watching him with arms crossed and correcting him when needed. he even gives him a fist-bump at one point, a total contradiction to the image you’d constructed of the man.
really, you shouldn’t be so judgmental. he was perfectly fine last time and had been nothing but perfectly decent when interacting with kaito. still, it’s hard to filter out the animosity and consider the fact he may be something resembling a normal human being and not the demon you’ve been mentally envisioning him as. maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to cry over spilled coffee…
slowly but surely, as you watch the the two skate, some of the tension bleeds out of you. it seems like it’s going well. you hope it is. kaito seems happy, at least, which is all you wanted.
at the end, bakugo brings him to the middle, meeting midoryia and the other boys. you watch nervously as they introduce him, hands clasped tightly in your lap. though you should know better than to doubt your son. he inherited his dad’s people skills, not yours.
he integrates quickly, jumping immediately into conversation with the other boys with a bright smile. you’re so distracted watching, you almost miss bakugo skating in your direction.
when he knocks on the glass, you jump slightly, head snapping towards him. he jerks his thumb towards the gate and you stand, making your way down to him.
“kid was great,” he grunts and your shoulders sag with relief, pride flaring in your chest. of course he was. “pass me my bottle?”
you raise a brow, but bite the quip on the tip of your tongue, looking around until you spot a plastic orange water bottle on a nearby bench. you lift it and he nods, his cold fingers brushing over yours as he takes it.
you watch as he downs it, waiting impatiently for him to continue.
finally moving the bottle away from his mouth, he wipes his chin with his shirt. stubbornly, you keep your eyes on his face rather than the tempting sliver of abdomen. you are not a pervert.
“should be fine to join the others next week.”
he grunts, nodding. “yeah. i mean, if you’re planning to bring him back that is.”
you fold your arms back over your chest, feeling defensive again. he’s just a little too infuriatingly on the nose.
it had been something you briefly considered, but after watching, seeing the elation on kaito’s face as he skated, quickly discarded all together. you wouldn’t take that from him. “well, he clearly enjoyed himself, so why wouldn’t i?”
silently, his eyes linger on your face, before the edges of his lips twitch back up and he raises his bottle, offering another noncommittal shrug.
it’s as if he’s aware of your annoyance with him and is actively trying to pull it out of you, wanting to break the carefully contained act you’re hanging onto with the skin of your teeth. it’s as if you’ve got your thoughts printed out and slapped onto your forehead and he finds it hilarious.
you glower, before looking back over to kaito. he’s skating with the other boys now, already completely integrated and smiling as wide as his little face possibly can.
softening almost instantly, you scrape your teeth over your bottom lip, chewing nervously.
“..you don’t think it’s a bit soon?”
you’re not exactly sure what ‘too soon’ really is in this situation, but was that really it? sure, yaoyorozo mentioned the entire team is relatively new as it is, so it’s not like he’s miles behind the other kids, but still, a single one-on-one and he’s good to go?
bakugo follows your eyes. “kid’s a quick learner.”
“i ain’t gonna let him lag behind, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he adds, leaning against the board between you. “s’not like i’m fucking throwing him to the wolves.”
you huff, annoyed again as he seems to read your mind, taking a step back and reinstating the distance he just closed.
“shouldn’t you watch your language around children?” you prod, unable to hold your tongue. staying mature around him is a lot harder without kaito to act as a buffer.
he pauses, glancing over at the team before looking back at you, raising a sarcastic brow.
“didn’t know the brats could hear from me this far away.” he leans in even closer, dropping his voice low, “your kid got super-hearing?”
you smile back mockingly, considering if you reach across and strangle him with both hands quicker than he could skate away.
“just trying to avoid bad influences.”
kaito shoe size is based of UK children’s size lol, it’s just the average for a seven year old (I don’t really know it matches up with other countries but it’s not actually important)
