Continuation.
Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.
And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.
He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-
He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.
Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.
Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.
"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.
You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.
"I'm retired."
Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.
"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."
"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."
Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.
"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"
You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.
"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."
Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-
"You twitch like one too."
"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.
"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.
"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.
"Soda water with lime."
"No alcohol?"
"I like to keep my wits about me."
The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.
"You scared the fuck outta him."
"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."
Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."
"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"
He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."
"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."
That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-
"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.
"I do.'
"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."
"It's better if you don't know."
Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-
A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.
"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."
"You kill people?" he whispers back.
"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."
It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.
If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.
"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."
"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."
"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"
You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."
There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-
So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.
"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.
Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.
